What we've lost

by Lady Bee

I washed the land with the blood of my enemies. Ghost feasted in human flesh, if a Bolton can be considered a human at all. I sat at the throne built for the Kings Of Winter, where my mother's ancestors once sat, and I waited.

2. Chapter 2

So this is what you meant?

When you said that you were spent?

And now it's time to build from the

Bottom of the pit

Right to the top

Don't hold back

Packing my bags and giving the

Academy a rain-check

I feel some kind of comfort whenever I go down to the crypts. There's something in the silence and the stone faces that had stared at me since I was a child. Of course there are new faces and those are the ones that frighten me more than any kind of ghost ever could. Jon doesn't understand why I keep coming here. He thinks that I blame him for all the tragedy. I could blame him if I wished to, but the truth is that without him I would be lost now.

There's a marble board with nothing but a names carved. Brandon, son of Prince Jon Targaryen and Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell. I hated it when they presented me the artisan's work, with those hideous titles, wolves and dragons adorning the edges. Brandon had a northerner name. His father is as much a Stark as any one of the King's in the North, but that damn name and those silly dragons were supposed to be everywhere Jon was mentioned. It sounds as if my son doesn't belong here, as if he wasn't a child of Winterfell as I am.

At least he was buried between my father and my brother. Father would have liked to hold him in his arms, I suppose. Robb would have been a good uncle and an even better father. It's strange how one's heart can change. I never wished to be a wife or a mother, but I've became both nonetheless. Strange as it may seem, I don't completely hate it. In fact, after the war, it gave me a sense of belonging and the security of a place to call home. Obviously, Jon is the one to blame for it.

I wasted a precious time looking for a way to forget who I was and what was my legate. If my time in Braavos taught me anything was that my bond with Winterfell, with my family, and specially with Jon was too strong to be neglected for so long. No matter how much I tried, I could never abandon my identity fully and in my heart there was this hole, this empty space where once I carried so much love.

My family, my pack, had been butchered. My home was put to the torch and my last hope was attached to the Wall for a lifetime. I had nowhere to go and I thought it would be easy to put my past behind me and adopt a new face. I was wrong.

I thought I had a hole in my chest where once was a heart. I thought I could forget everything if I putted my mind to it, but Needle kept me attached to everything that I held dear. Don't think that I'm not devoted to The One Of Many Faces. I still believe that Death is the one true god, but I understood that I wasn't meant to serve him as a Faceless Man. It was only when I heard about Jon's death that I realized that I was the last Stark and it meant that it was my responsibility to reclaim Winterfell and avenge my family.

I can't even start to describe the pain I felt when I saw my father's beheading, or heard the sounds of the massacre at the Red Wedding, knowing that my mother and brother were lost to me forever; but hearing about Jon's death was even worst. The earth was cracking and crumbling under my feet. I felt on my knees and it was like as if my strength had been drained. I couldn't walk, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think of anything but my pain. It was when I realized that in fact I still had a heart and a soul.

I held Needle's scabbard, feeling the soft grey leather against my palm. It was as smooth as Jon's cheeks had been to me. The grey was of the same color of his eyes. The blade as shining as his smile had ever been. That is my secret. My heart and soul had long been divided in two equal parts and Jon carried half of me with him when he gave me Needle. I came back to Westeros for him. I came back to avenge his death and give him justice.

The war and winter were raging at that time I reached the coast. In order to avenge my family and Jon I entered the troops of Daenerys under disguise. I fought for the Queen and her nephew until the news of a mysterious event in the North came to my ears. Jon was alive and the North had bent it knees to the new King in the North and Lord of Winterfell.

The nerve he had to claim those titles. I could have bitten the hell out of him for such an audacity if I wasn't so…Happy.

I couldn't run to him straight away. I had to think first. I had duties to perform. The queen had planned to attack the North after naming Jon a traitor. Things would have been disastrous if wasn't for Howland Reed and his shocking revelation. It was disturbing to hear that Jon Snow, my Jon, had never been my brother. He was the last one of my family, my whole pack, and he wasn't even my true brother. He was a royal prince, with a weak claim to the Winter Throne but a place in the Iron Throne's line of succession. Daenerys would never attack him after such a revelation, instead she summoned him and called for a truce. Jon surrendered the North to become a royal prince of the Iron Throne and the Lord of Winterfell.

I hated him for it, but I also understood. Only when the hostilities came to an end I summoned my courage and traveled back to Winterfell.

He had made a fine trap for me, killing Bolton's and delivering justice to my family's murderers. I guess he knew that I would come eventually to have my share of carnage and blood. Jon was right there, waiting for me in the Winter Throne. His grim was wolfish and his eyes as intense as I remembered. The boy I once knew and called brother had died long ago, letting that handsome dark man in his place.

The three headed dragon in his breast plate scared me. It was a cruel reminder that maybe he had no place for a dead sister in his heart. Luckily I was wrong about it.

I don't ever want to let you down

I don't ever want to leave this town

'Cause after all

This city never sleeps at night

It's time to begin, isn't it, I get a little bit

Bigger, but then, I'll admit

I'm just the same as I was

Now, don't you understand

That I'm never changing who I am

We are much alike, Jon and me. The same eyes, the same northern features, the same lack of social grace. The mutual understanding we share is something rare, I believe. We missed each other, we craved for affection, but the truth is that we never learnt to demonstrate how much we care about anyone or anything. Our lack of eloquence is stunning and while we stumble in the words that we don't know how to pronounce, we dance.

If at the time I could already be considered a woman, I was also very childish about many aspects of a woman's life. I can understand it now that all was said and done. Since I came back I started to notice how Jon looked at me. His eyes seemed hungry, his behavior was too energetic or anxious whenever I was near. He tried to please me constantly and lost an awful lot of time staring at me.

I wasn't totally foreigner to lust and desire. I saw it directed to other women, but I had never experienced it myself until then. It frightened me at first seeing Jon struggling against it. However, I started to feel flattered and then curious about where such a feeling could lead us to.

I could barely sleep those days. By night my mind was always crowded with dreadful images. Beheaded men, burned flesh, blades and blood all around me. It was like having ghosts dragging chains in my room; therefore my eyes never got closed for long. It was when I gave in and rose from my bed to meditate in the great hall.

Jon came like thief in the night, silent like a shadow. I'll never be able to forget his face at that moment. The need, the despair, the fire…I've never realized how handsome he had always been and I liked how his features got rougher along the year. A long and unshaved face, a squared chin, his fierce and imposing figure, his musky smell. Nothing about him was unpleasant to me; even his scars had an appeal I can't quite describe.

The fascination I feel when I see Jon falling to his knees just for me. The way he looks at me while kissing my legs. The touch of his fingers and his devious mouth. He makes me shiver every time and I just can't get enough of him.

I don't know if there's such a thing as soul mates, but Jon is the closest thing to a soul mate that I have. He simply fits me, as if we were to pieces of a puzzle. Since we both had a strong connection to wolves, I assume that accepting him in my bed was basically claiming him as my mate. He surely did the same to me, so I won't play coy by pretending that it wasn't a significant event.

I've never really considerate how much that night could change us. Of course I feared the consequences and I never wanted to get with child, specially his child. A bastard's life wasn't a proper life to anyone, but it wasn't a bastard what followed such a reckless night. The way Jon held me, the way he looked deeply inside my eyes, the way he treasured my presence despite of my lack of tenderness and words to him…Jon was in love with me and I had no idea of what to do about it.

You see, I had always loved him as a brother, as friend and confident, but the heart of a woman was something I wasn't used to. Therefore, I had no idea of how I felt about him. Lust was simple enough to understand, the security his presence granted me was also easy to figure, the thing I couldn't put my finger at was the peace he gave me. It's like as if my whole life I had been lost in the core of a storm until Jon came around like a refuge where I could get rest and protection. When you get used to hell, peace is quite frightening.

Jon may have tried to convince himself of the contrary, but the truth is that he always wanted a family of his own. A good wife to provide him with a bunch of noisy children that would call him father. That had always been his secret dream and suddenly I saw myself dragged to the center of the picture.

Whenever he came to my bed I tried to prevent him of finishing inside me. Sometimes I succeeded, sometimes I didn't. Jon has a talent to trick me. He gets me numbed by pleasure and ceases the very moment when my mind disconnects from my convulsing body with stunning precision. No wonder I got with child. No wonder he took me as his wife after it.

I may have never wished to be anyone's wife, but I like to Jon's wife. It's a way to say that I have rights and that he belongs to me. I surely never wanted to be a mother but while my belly grew and the child kicked inside me I was sure that as Jon had half of me when he gave me Needle, I had half of him too.

Brandon came to this world before the proper time, too feeble and sickly to resist long. I thought I would die in childbirth, the pain was nothing like I've ever knew. When the maester put him in my arms I tried to not cry, I tried to be the heartless creature I once was, but all to no avail. Jon made me human again and our son taught me how to love and fear for something beyond my own life.

Jon sat by my side knowing how unlikely was the possibility of our son's survival, but he tried to give me hope nonetheless. If only he had listened to me and avoided that pregnancy. If only he had waited a few years, maybe…No. Such thoughts won't bring Brandon back to me and I believe I've punished Jon enough for a hundred lifetimes with my silence.

So this is where you fell

And I am left to sell

The path to heaven runs through miles

Of clouded hell

Right to the top

Don't look back

Turning to rags and giving the commodities

A rain-check

"Do you think it's wise to keep coming here in your current state, my lady?" I heard his voice coming from the stairs. "It's quite a journey and you should be resting."

He's always like that. Jon worries too much and cares too much about his responsibilities which includes me.

"I'll have plenty of rest after the birth. I just like to come here." I answered when his arm involved part of my middle section and his hand rested in my belly. "And if you call me my lady again I'll make sure that this will be your last child."

"Stubborn woman!" He cursed. "Could you please come up with me? I'm serious about it, Arya. The effort, the agitation, nothing of it is good for the baby or you."

"Breathe, Jon. I'm not planning to dig another grave for a child here, if it's what you are truly concerned about." My words were harsh, but Jon needed to hear them anyway. Brandon was my son too and nothing could be worse than having him dead in my arms. Jon needed to be reassured that I wasn't looking for that same kind of pain again.

"A raven arrived this morning." He bluntly changed the subject.

"Dark words?" I'm quite a pessimist these days. I couldn't help but worry about everything since the war. Jon made a face.

"It depends on how you feel about having Sansa around. I know that you like to pretend that none of your siblings survived, but the truth is that lady Tyrell is very much alive and heading to the North while we speak." That was something I wasn't expecting. It was the first time in forever that I would face Sansa and…I wasn't sure if that would be a good thing.

"I suppose that she will be useful when the baby comes." I answered without enthusiasm. "What about…You know. What about Rickon?"

"My brother says he's doing well in King's Landing. A wild boy, but quite gifted with blades." Jon answered me while trying to conceal a smile. Rickon was nothing but a baby when we parted and now he was old enough to be Prince Aegon's squire. I wished he could come home and stay for a while. "I could try to persuade Aegon to send Rickon home for a while, if it's that what you want."

"That would be good." Jon caressed my round belly mindlessly, making me close my eyes. "Does he look like Robb?"

"I suppose so, but Rickon will grow into a handsome lad." He teased me and I had to admit that I'm fond of the rare moments when he displays some sense of humor.

Jon helped me back to our chambers and made sure that I would be put to rest. He is a fine man, better than most I've known in a lifetime. I couldn't say much of husbands, but he was the best option for me and I liked being his lady. I don't think that Sansa could say the same about her options. A dwarf, a well-known ladies' man and a cripple; all of them the opposite of what she had always dreamt about, even though I am very fond of Tyrion Lannister.

The news of my sister coming home with her own court distressed me more that I can say. We never got along very well and after so many years and faults in both our records I couldn't see anything positive coming out of this visit. I could at least get to know my nephews and niece.

Sansa arrived in a briskly day. Although spring was upon us, Winterfell never failed to provide us with fresh snow even in the hottest days. She came to my chambers, her auburn hair wet with melted snow and her cheeks flushed. I wish I could stand on my feet to greet her properly, as Lady of Winterfell, but at this point my ankles were too swallowed and the pain in my back was killing me.

She looked like mother, but she got even prettier. By her side there was a little girl with light brown hair and huge blue eyes, wearing a dress all embroidered with golden flowers and wolves.

"She's truly a flower." The girl was so pretty that she reminded me of a miniature of Ser Loras.

"With your temper and bad attitude." Sansa answered me with piercing eyes, making me smile.

"She will be a beauty." I cracked a smile at my sister and Sansa's eyes softened. "What is your name, little lady?"

"I am Catlyn Tyrell, Your Highness." The girl answered bowing with the same lack of grace that I ever showed. I laughed.

"Please to meet you, little lady." I tried to sit properly in my bed without much success. Sansa rushed to help me. "Long time no see, sister."

"Not my fault. When the news of your wedding came to the Reach I was as heavy as you and then my lord husband's leg got the best of him. Willas stood a bed for nearly six months and I had to take care of my children and the state." She answered me immediately and them she made a sober pause. "I'm sorry about your first born. Jon wrote telling us about it, the poor man. I can see why he's so distressed about your current situation."

"You never approved of me marrying him. Just admit it." I answered bluntly while rolling my eyes. Sansa twisted in the chair she was sat on.

"I can't say that it was something that I expected. He was raised as our brother and even though he is truly a Targaryen it doesn't make things easy to understand. Besides, he usurped Rickon's titles. Marrying you was a fine way to put an end to any dispute and talk of rebellion." I smiled lightly at her. I prefer when Sansa is frank and straightforward. "I've never wished for any harm to come for both of you, nor your baby. I can't imagine how dreadful it must have been. I've lost a boy to, a stillborn. I named him Rickard, after our grandfather."

"A handsome name. Mine was named Brandon. We buried him between Robb and father. I didn't want him to be alone." There were tears in her blue eyes and surely they were mirroring my own. "Jon is trying to convince Aegon to send Rickon home. If he must be anyone's squire, I prefer him to stay with us. Jon doesn't have a squire for himself and Rickon could have use of a family."

"Look at you. I've never thought that you would turn into such a maternal creature." Sansa for once in her life seemed to be proud of me. What a strange thing to happen.

"Most people prefer to say that I have no heart and no softness in me. I am the she-wolf of Winterfell." I corrected her.

"I'm sure you can be as heartless as any murderer should be, but this is the consequence of war. It's crueler to us women. We lost father, brothers, I lost a husband and nearly my first born. There isn't room for softness in us, only steal. Now that we survived we can try to find happiness in what remained for us. Willas makes me very happy indeed and if Jon can make you feel the same, than I can find it in my heart to forgive him."

"Look at you. When you became so gentle to lowborn creatures and to your baby sister?" She made a face.

"You are impossible."

I don't ever want to let you down

I don't ever want to leave this town

'Cause after all

This city never sleeps at night

It's time to begin, isn't it, I get a little bit

Bigger, but then, I'll admit, I'm just the

Same as I was

Now, don't you understand

That I'm never changing who I am

Having Sansa around wasn't as bad as I expected it to be, but it doesn't mean that it was all fun and smooth. We still have our differences, but at least she helped me a great deal until the birth. As ridiculous as it may seem, the one Sansa crossed the most was Jon. Both of them were constantly disagreeing in nearly everything about how to administrate the castle and about paternal duties.

The pain started late in the morning and by the end of the day I delivered not one, but two babies. Jon stood by my side all the time, despite Sansa's complains and notions about men being inept to help in such a situation. Now I can see the humor in the scene, but at the time I wanted to kill both Sansa and Jon for being so annoying.

If Jon's face in the occasion of Brandon's birth had been dark and sober, when the twins were born he couldn't look happier. His infinite questions about the children's health and mine were insufferable until the maester assure him that everything was fine with us.

I suppose that Jon have never realized how much he wanted those children. Eddard and Lyanna were healthy and so much alike that one could be mistaken by the other easily. Both of them Starks in their colors and stunning in their looks. From time to time I see Jon sneaking in to the nursery to watch them sleeping. I can't avoid smiling at such a scene.

Even though I asked Jon to for another child, nothing will ever be capable of making me forget the pain of losing Brandon. I do love the twins and they keep me busy enough to not think constantly about my first born, but nothing can erase the lost. Jon understands. He likes to pretend that he doesn't feel the same, but I see him sneaking to the crypts as I do once in a moon cycle.

Once I walked into the nursery to check on the babies. They had barely reached the sixth month and had learnt to laugh and smile. Soon they would be walking and talking. Jon was already there with Lyanna in his arms. Despite the need of a male heir, I suspect he had always wanted for a baby girl for him to spoil.

He smiled at me when I got close. Little Ned was already asleep in the cradle. Lyanna was busy trying to pull Jon's hair with her chubby hands, but when she looked at me she immediately threw her arms at my direction.

"This is unfair. She likes you better." Jon complained and I tried to conceal a smile.

"Of course she does. I carried her inside me for quite a long time, but I believe she finds you funnier with all this hair for her to pull." Jon replied me with a light kiss in the lips.

"I hope so." His voice was soft and intimate, reminding me how long it had been since we last shared some intimacy.

It took me about fifteen minutes to put Lya to sleep. Jon waited for me as he usually did before both of us could retire for the night. He put Lyanna in the cradle carefully before he could turn to me for a kiss.

"Shall we sleep, love?" Jon asked me kindly. Oh, sleep wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

"I would rather do something else in bed." I whispered back. His facial expression changed immediately, but not in the way I wanted.

"I don't think it's wise. The maester said…" Jon said immediately.

"The maester said a month and it had been nearly six since the birth." I rolled my eyes. "Come back to my bed and don't make me beg for it. I will sooner find an understudy for you than hurt my pride."

His answer was a feral kiss, like the ones I enjoyed so much. Jon is absurdly possessive some times and nothing can make him answer quicker than jalousie. He pulled my hair and bitted my lip slowly. He buried his nose in the curve of my neck while unlacing my dress. I've missed those moments and the fire he always displayed.

"You wouldn't dare." He replayed in a husky tone near my ear.

"Try me." My answer made him growl.

It's time to begin, isn't it, I get a little bit

Bigger, but then, I'll admit, I'm just the

Same as I was

Now, don't you understand

That I'm never changing who I am

This road never looked so lonely

This house doesn't burn down slowly

To ashes, to ashes

Jon grabbed me by my waist and threw me over his shoulder like a peasant would do with a sack of grains. He carried me thru the empty halls while I kicked the air commanding him to put me down. He never did it, though.

He laid me in our bed with no delicacy at all. Before I could blink he was already on top of me, tearing the bodice of my dress apart to expose my breast still full of milk. His beard screeched the expose skin of my bosom and I have to say that I've missed the sensation dearly.

I like the way Jon acts as if he were a green boy sometimes. He grabs me with eager hands and I can't feel his cock pressing against the layer of fabric between us with almost no effort. I wonder if husbands show such kind of passion to their wives, because I surely appreciate being desired in such a fierceful way.

I've threw his tunic and shirt away with equal eagerness. His mouth left a track of wet kisses from my neck to my belly after he managed to get rid of my dress. Soon I unbuckled his belt and unlaced his trousers to have his throbbing cock in my hands. Jon lost his breath the moment my hand started to work on his growing. I suppose he have missed me too.

There was not time for playing around. We were both too desperate to consume our need and lust to explore the possibilities. As soon his trousers were of I felt Jon invading me with a straightforward stab. I closed my eyes instinctively and bitted my inferior lip trying to contain my moans while he kept thrusting.

His nails scratched my legs while Jon tried to keep them in a way that allowed him to move even further. It was fast and violent. Soon I felt my toes curling and that familiar wave of spasms all over my body. I was blind again for a few seconds. Only when the numbness started to fade I could feel the sticky liquid between my legs. Jon's body was still on top of mine, his head resting against my breasts.

"Damn you!" I cursed in a lazy tone.

"Why is that?" He asked.

"You've finished inside." I complained and Jon gave me a muffled laugh in return.

"I'm sorry, love. It had been a while. I couldn't avoid it." That was a blunt lie and we both knew it.

"You better not get me with child again or I'll gut you." Jon rolled his eyes.

"I suppose that you would be the one to suffer the most about it. You can take moon tea for a couple of years, if you like. We already have two children to keep us busy for a while." He said calmly. "But I'd like to remind you that I've always wanted a large family."

"Oh, is that so?! Why you joined the Night's Watch then? You've became too greedy for my taste, Jon Snow." I grumbled. Jon laughed.

"I joined the Night's Watch precisely because I was a Snow. It has been a while since you last called me that." He teased me while kissing my neck. "I don't like it, though."

"As I don't like being with child and giving birth. It's not your body, you know?" I complained.

"You were the one to ask me for another child. We just received more blessings than we expected." He kissed my lips again. "I thought you enjoyed motherhood."

"I do enjoy it. I just hate being pregnant."

"I must say that things aren't much funny when you are with child. Far too much time without sharing your bed for my taste. I've missed you." That much I knew. I've missed him terribly too.

That night we didn't sleep much. After all that time without touching each other, we got eager to spend all the stocked energy. The sun was nearly rising in the horizon when Jon considered himself satisfied. He laid by my side and I rested my head in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I've always found that sound soothing.

As I said before, being loved by Jon was a striking surprise at first. Now I think of it as the starry sky. We see it every day and it holds no surprises, but it's still dazzling and fascinating. I have no idea when I first started to repay his love in the same way. It grew slowly inside of me, like weed, until I found myself completely engulfed by the overwhelming feeling.

Once he took half of my heart and soul. I believe it was when it all began. We struggled against war, winter and death to find each other again. We nearly lost ourselves in the process of embracing our duties. We lost our family and our son, but we still look at each other searching for strength and reassurance.

He's my starry sky, my counterpart. Jon is the scabbard of my sword, all grey and soft; he is Winterfell and the North itself; he is my summer snow; he is my home.

It's time to begin, isn't it, I get a little bit

Bigger, but then, I'll admit, I'm just the

Same as I was

Now don't you understand

That I'm never changing who I am

It's time to begin, isn't it, I get a little bit

Bigger, but then, I'll admit, I'm just the

Same as I was

Now don't you understand

That I'm never changing who I am

Author's note: I wasn't planning for this one to have another chapter, but since Arya seems to be so uncaring in the first chapter I found that it would be nice to hear her side of the story, and specially about the loss of her son. I hope you like the sequel. I forget to mention that the last chapter's song is Demons, by Imagine Dragons. The song of this chapter is It's Time, by the same band.

Kisses

Bee