A/N: Bran and Jojen are the same age in this (otherwise Jojen and Robb would be the same age), but I have maintained the correct distances between sibling ages. This is not only my first work for Game of Thrones, but my first fanfiction in nearly four years. This work was not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine, but if someone has the time and inclination I'd be much obliged. The story takes place in Washington State, and if you can figure out where and what everything is, you probably live there, though there are a few aspects that have been bent.

Jojen tapped aimlessly at his AP Calculus textbook, willing the answers to fall out of the pages. He hadn't meant to sleep through class, really he hadn't, but nightmares of skeleton men in the snow had kept him awake. Not that it did snow much in Moat Cailin. His calc teacher had allowed him to sleep, and when he tried to apologize she said she'd rather have him sleep through class than get injured due to a seizure triggered by exhaustion. Truthfully, he hadn't experienced a major seizure in almost a year, only auras that he'd come to refer to as 'seeing green'. He'd read about people smelling paint thinner or fudge, or hearing static, but he saw the world in green.

He was still pouring over the same problem when the bell over the door jingled softly. Jojen straightened to his full, and rather unimpressive, Reed height, and shoved his homework out of sight, pushing blonde curls out of solemn green eyes. Half past two, same as always, the auburn haired boy pushed through the door, glaring at anyone who dared offer any assistance as he navigated his chair to the counter. Today, however, he wasn't alone. There was a dark, petite girl beside him, not touching the chair, and she looked ready to fight anyone who got too close. Apparently, the boy's new companion didn't know how to whisper either, as he could clearly hear her as they came closer.

"So, do you come here for the cute barista? Because I could get behind that," she said easily, combing fingers through her wind tossed pageboy haircut. Jojen shifted unconsciously, straightening his plain, dark blue sweater.

"Arya, will you please shut up," the boy sighed, exasperated, as he shrugged off his grey jacket. "The coffee is good and it's quiet, like most places you aren't."

"Gods, Bran, you don't need to be so mean," the girl huffed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of dark jeans. Probably his sister. Gods knew Jojen and Meera had had enough of those conversations.

He did his best to smile, and act as though he hadn't been heard them. "What can I get for you?"

"The Vienna coffee," the girl said, grabbing for her wallet. "Bran?"

"The usual," he said, before turning his attention to his sister. "You don't need to pay, Arya."

"I forced you to let me come," she replied. "By paying I'm rebuilding lost older sister cred." The boy—Bran—shook his head, smiling like an indulgent father. A smile that had Jojen in its clutches until the girl interrupted, "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Um, maybe?" They probably had gone to high school together since this girl was Bran's older sister.

"He's in Father's picture of the Reeds, Arya," Bran nudged her along. "You know, his best friend, Howland Reed. He owns this bookstore."

"Oh!" Arya passed Jojen her money, "I could swear I knew you from somewhere else, though. Did you graduate with the class of 2014?"

"No, I graduate this year," he said simply, counting out her change.

She nodded, obviously about to continue, but Bran was already pulling her toward a table in the back corner of the shop. When Jojen brought over their coffee, he heard him say to her, "You wanted to talk about the mechanic, so talk." Presumably he meant Gendry Waters, the boy adopted by Tobho Mott after he was left in a cardboard box in front of his garage as a baby twenty years ago. There was talk about his resemblance to Robert Baratheon, mayor of King's Landing, but no one ever thought much on it beyond the odd comment.

Arya's comment stuck in his mind, "do you come here for the cute barista?" He didn't know if that was true, but he admitted to himself that he asked to work the afternoon shift to see Bran, even when he didn't know his name. He also admitted that it was weird. And so, vaguely irritated by his own pathetic love life, he went back to calculus in hopes that he might find solace in the possibility of intelligence. He found none. Half an hour and three unsuccessful attempts later, Arya was leaving and Bran was approaching the counter, empty cups in hand.

"I'm sorry about Arya," Bran said, his voice oddly gentle as he offered the cups. Usually his words were clipped and sharp, if he spoke at all. "She doesn't always know when to stop."

Jojen shrugged, accepting the cups, "It's fine, not the worst customer I've had."

Bran nodded, noting the textbook. "You know, I got pretty good grades in calc last year, I could help you. Not that you need help, but you've been staring at that page since before we came in here."

"Oh, ah, that would be great, actually. I mean, it's a week and a half into the school year and I'm already lost." He wasn't blushing; his face didn't feel disproportionately warm, nope, not at all.

"Great, when do you finish work?"

"Not until seven, but Loras usually gets here by six and I don't think he'd mind if I cut out early." Oh gods that probably sounded desperate, came unbidden into his mind, followed by a justification, except I am, I'm shit at calculus.

"Great, I'll see you then," Bran said, turning toward the door. "You don't mind getting that door do you?"

Jojen hid the grin threatening to appear on his lips. "Of course not."

"Wait, do you have a date?" Meera demanded after overhearing her brother ask Loras Tyrell, one of their fathers few hires not based in nepotism, to cover for him. Actually, Loras had been hired to cement a relationship with the Highgarden Pastry Company that operated out of the Reach in the south which would allow the Reeds to use Tyrell recipes in their café kitchen.

"No, someone it just helping me with homework," he said, trying to be vague as he untied his white apron. Of course, the ludicrous little smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

"So it is a date," Loras insisted, throwing an arm around the shorter boy and ruffling his hair. "Little Reed is finally all grown up."

"It's not a date," Jojen hissed, ducking out from under the brunette's arm. "Bran is just helping me with calculus."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Loras asked suggestively before wilting under the intensity of his green-eyed glare. "Whatever, just go. You'd cover for me if I wanted some time with Renly." He exchanged a knowing look with Meera while her brother's back was turned. It wasn't as if they hadn't noticed the way he looked at Brandon Stark, son of one of the Neck's most well-known business men. The Starks were entrenched in the world of medical equipment, and would have been rich as the Lannisters of Casterly Rock if they weren't quite so involved in charity. Ned Stark was just about everyone's favorite person, and if not it was one of his children.

Jojen was still shoving books into his bag when Bran arrived, choosing to wait outside instead of dealing with that godsforsaken door. They didn't speak as Bran led him to the Moat Cailin public library which was a few blocks from Good Reeds, a name that Bran asked after to break the silence once the entered the building.

Jojen chuckled softly. "About twenty-five years ago, my father attended the May music festival at Harrenhal. That was where he met your father and your aunt, Lyanna. On the second night of the festival, he revealed that he wanted to open a bookstore, and Lyanna drunkenly proposed the name, which he drunkenly agreed to and soberly, five years later, she held him to it."

"That sounds like Aunt Lyanna," Bran agreed, opening the textbook at a table. "All right, tell me what your problems are."

This was the beginning of a tradition, particularly seeing as Jojen never did get better at calculus, and every Friday afternoon he would leave early for the library and Bran would help him muddle through math. In return, Jojen taught Bran how to analyze text in AP Language and Composition. Early September turned into early October, and Meera began her junior year at Moat Cailin University. Loras and Renly Baratheon began to plan their long anticipated wedding much to the chagrin of both families. Bran's cousin, Jon, returned from beyond the Wall with a fiancé, and Robb and his wife announced that they would have a child by next June. All was as it should have been. At least, until Catelyn Stark had something to say about it.