"Jon Arryn has passed away earlier this afternoon. While many are speculating whether or not it was from natural causes, the autopsy report has yet to be released. Many are now wondering who President Baratheon will choose for the now open position of Secretary of State. Political pundit and professor of Political Theory at the University of Westeros, Tyrion Lannister, has given his opinion on who President Baratheon should choose in an interview he did with us earlier. He said, considering the current political climate, the wisest choice would be—"
Robb turned the television off with his remote. He didn't care much for the news, but only ever had it on when he needed help in sleeping as it absolutely bored him. However, Jon Arryn was his uncle. He never really spent time with him, or his Aunt Lysa or cousin Robyn for that matter, but they were still family.
They had received a phone call earlier. He knew something was wrong when his mother answered the phone, only to silently place the receiver down as she sat in one of the chairs in the kitchen. At first, she had remained speechless.
"Your uncle has passed away," she said flatly.
Robb embraced his mother. Her small frame remained stiff in his arms as she was still reeling from the news. When Robb let go, she stayed still, but she shed no tears.
"I'm sorry," Jon spoke from across the table. He looked at both Robb and Catelyn. Catelyn didn't say anything as she continued to stare a little into the distance.
Robb felt sympathy for his mother. But he also felt the same towards Jon. In the midst of everything, he didn't belong. He was an outsider. How could he truly be sorry about the death of an uncle he had never met? Jon must have felt awkward and out of place. However, Robb felt deep respect for him as Jon continued to sit there, unmoving, offering his silence as comfort.
Robb glanced at the clock and saw it was past midnight. His parents would be asleep already. Or perhaps they weren't. He knew his uncle and father had been close at one point in their lives.
His ears started buzzing with the silence that began to fill his room. He stretched his legs out while folding his arms up under his head, his feet almost touching the foot of the bed. He always thought his bed to be quite large, but very quickly it had shrunk as he grew. He closed his eyes, wishing that the lights could turn themselves off as he now felt too tired to get up and turn them off himself. He wanted to sleep, but his thoughts prevented him from doing so.
His thoughts returned once again to his grieving mother, when he heard the click of his bedroom door opening. He shot up quickly, staring at his door as it opened slowly. Robb was confused as he saw Jon's curly head peek through.
"Did something happen?" Robb asked, fearing that there was worse news.
Jon shook his head and held a finger up to his lips, motioning Robb to be silent. Robb complied as Jon entered his room, being careful to close the door behind him without making a noise.
"Let's go," Jon whispered.
"Go where?" Robb whispered back, wondering why the need for secrecy.
"Out," Jon answered. He walked over to Robb's window and opened it quietly. He peeked his head out, looking down.
"We're grounded," Robb stated incredulously.
"We won't get caught," Jon replied. Robb still sat on his bed with a disbelieving look on his face.
"Trust me, I've snuck out of the group home countless times. I won't get us caught," Jon reassured him. He waved at Robb to follow him. Robb gulped nervously as he looked back at his door before following Jon out the window. The night air assaulted them both with a gust of chilly wind and the smell of oak.
Robb steadied himself as his feet struggled to plant themselves on the shingles of the roof. Jon gripped his upper arm to help him regain his balance. Robb noticed Jon's hands were freezing. The strength of Jon's grip on his arm caused Robb's stomach to quiver with a strange sensation.
They treaded carefully to the east end of the house where a trellis was located right outside of Bran and Rickon's window. Jon climbed down first and Robb waited for him to reach the ground before descending himself. The trellis was old and was weighted heavily by huge, crawling vines; Robb doubted it would support the weight of two grown boys at once.
Once Robb's feet hit the ground, he followed Jon into the garage. Jon picked up one of the bicycles strewn on the floor and stood it up. He hopped on and sped away, glancing back at Robb. Robb hurried as he picked one up himself and jumped on, pedaling quickly to catch Jon.
They were speeding away, the wind rushing past their faces and their bicycles clicking furiously as they pedaled harder. Jon looked back and Robb laughed, feeling glad to be out and breathing the fresh air. Robb didn't know where Jon was taking them, but they both smiled giddily at each other as they rode the high of excitement from sneaking out.
Robb had never snuck out before. In fact, he had never been grounded, either. His father didn't even bother listening to his side of the story. His father didn't understand the fury he felt when he saw those students beating Jon. They were hurting someone who was a part of the family. Yes, Jon was a part of their family.
They rode past mailboxes and houses where not even a single light was on; everyone was asleep and they were alone. The power lines buzzed above their heads. The wind whipped their hair back and made their noses grow cold. But they didn't stop pedaling. They glided through the dark night on the smooth pavement of the road.
Jon stopped them when they reached the end of the small neighborhood. They were at the entrance to the park.
"I want to see the Heart Tree," Jon said as he saw Robb look at him.
Jon got down from his bicycle and leaned it up against a tree. Robb followed and did the same.
"Do you believe?" Robb asked.
"In what? The old gods?" Jon asked.
"Yeah."
They started walking at a leisurely pace. Their footsteps were soft on the plush grass as they started walking off the main path, navigating through a dense maze of trees.
"I guess I do," Jon said.
"What about the new gods?"
"How many new ones are there now anyway?"
Robb laughed.
This was the first real conversation Robb had with Jon. He didn't understand why he had ever pushed Jon away in the first place. He didn't mean harm to his family. He was his family now.
"I'm sorry about your uncle," Jon said tacitly.
"Don't be. I hardly knew him," Robb replied.
"What do you think will happen now? Who do you think Baratheon will choose?"
"I didn't know you were so interested in Westeros politics," Robb said amused.
Heat rose up in Jon's cheeks. "I'm not. I'm just…glad to be having a conversation with you."
It was Robb's turn to blush. He didn't know quite what to say. He looked at Jon, who continued walking with his head down, staring intently at the ground as if he was looking for ants.
The silence from both boys was quickly broken as drops of rain began to fall atop their heads. They both looked up. In one swift moment, the pitter patter of raindrops developed into a heavy downpour. Without a second thought, Robb grasped Jon's hand in an act of brotherly affection and pulled him into a run. Jon reciprocated as he tightened his grip on Robb's hand. The rain whooshed down on them in an unrelenting manner. Robb could feel his clothes get heavier as they became soaked.
They ran for a few seconds before Robb finally saw his destination: a tiny, rundown gazebo. He let go of Jon's hand when they were under its meager shelter. Jon panted from the energy he just spent. Robb stared at the state Jon was in. His shirt was thoroughly drenched and was sticking to his shoulders and abdomen, outlining the compact muscles underneath it. His hair was dripping wet; little beads of water collected at the end of his dark curls before falling down as thick drops. Robb felt a peculiar tugging in his stomach.
Jon stared out around them as he placed both his hands on the thin railing of the gazebo. He leaned slightly forward as he turned his eyes upward, as if trying to predict when it would stop pouring. Robb cast a glance at Jon; his shirt was clinging to the delicate curve of his back.
"Where did all this rain come from?" Jon asked as he turned to look at Robb.
Robb shrugged.
Jon faced Robb slowly, and Robb noticed a change in his eyes. They were darker and more broody. Jon looked somber and Robb was confused by the sudden change of mood.
"I'm sorry you were grounded because of me," Jon said solemnly.
Robb shook his head. He smiled, feeling glad that it wasn't something worse.
"Don't be," Robb said.
They stared out into the woods as they silently stood next to each other. They could smell the earth and the sweet scent of the rain. All the tension they harbored since their first meeting had vanished. They were simply two brothers waiting for the rain to stop. However, Robb secretly wished it wouldn't.
They ambled a little carelessly through the window and into Robb's room. They were shivering from the bike ride back to the house. Their bodies were wet and the night air did nothing to warm them.
"We should rinse off or we'll get sick," Jon said.
Robb nodded as he rummaged through his drawers looking for a fresh pair of clothes. Jon was about to head out of the room when Robb pulled him back.
"Wait, if you use the main bathroom, someone will hear you. Use mine."
"I need to get my clothes," Jon whispered.
"Here," Robb handed him one of his shirts and long pajama pants.
"Thanks," Jon took the clothes and went in the small bathroom in the corner of the room. He closed the door behind him and began to strip quickly. He was glad to be rid of his wet clothes. He stepped into the shower and exhaled as he felt the hot water warm his bones.
He started recalling the events that had just happened. He remembered the way Robb had squeezed his hand as he led him through the forest. His hand was large and felt like fire on Jon's skin. His heart had quickened at that moment. And those eyes… Those stormy eyes that glinted grey in the darkness… Jon had tried to avoid looking into his eyes. They were so clear and reflective like a mirror. What if he looked into them and it mirrored his secrets? His loneliness? his insecurities? He wouldn't be able to bear it if Robb could see and judge him.
Jon turned off the water and grabbed a clean towel. He dried himself off and began putting Robb's clothes on. The shirt was only a little bigger, but the hem of the pants touched the floor. He walked out the bathroom, still toweling his hair. He looked at Robb who was fast asleep on his bed.
"—of State, Jon Arryn was pronounced dead this afternoon. Amid speculation, officials are saying he died from natural causes. However, our source inside the Red Keep has stated that Arryn may have been—"
Jon took the remote from Robb who had it cradled in his hand. He turned off the television, filling the room with silence. Robb seemed to have changed out of his wet clothes. He was sleeping so deeply that Jon didn't have the heart to wake him to tell him to shower first. Jon stared at Robb's face, which he was finding more and more pleasing to look at, before he turned off the bedroom light and headed back to his own room.
Jon woke with a start.
He had dreamt he was standing in front of the Red Tree. It was dark and he couldn't see much except for the shadow of a beast that was crouched next to the tree. The beast gave a low, long growl. Jon felt the hair on his arms stand up. Without warning, the beast lunged at him.
Its eyes glinted a fierce yellow in the moonlight and its fur was grey. It was a large wolf. The air in Jon's lungs was forced out of him as the great beast slammed its two front paws on each of his shoulders. It bared its teeth viciously; its fangs were massive and wet with drool. However, Jon no longer felt fear.
The beast sniffed at his neck. It was no longer letting out bloodcurdling growls. Instead, it smelled Jon's hair, burying its huge nose in his curls. It licked Jon affectionately as it let out a tiny whimper. Jon looked down. He was a wolf too. His body was covered in thick white fur.
The grey wolf kept lapping his tongue on Jon's face, and Jon did the same. The smell of the earth they were laying on was so thick that he felt like he couldn't breathe. The sensation of the cold dirt digging into his back, the sight of the brilliantly red leaves of the tree above him, and the warmth of the beast that was now fully straddling his body bound him into a speechless stupor.
It felt good. Better than anything he ever felt in his life. It was free of complexities and emotion. There was only instinct and need.
What a curious dream.
Jon looked down and groaned when he saw his erection. It took him a full fifteen minutes before he was able to calm himself down enough to look presentable. Once he was certain he wouldn't embarrass himself, he lumbered out of his room. He headed straight to the bathroom, only to see Arya looking at him suspiciously.
"Why are you wearing Robb's clothes?" she asked.
Before Jon could answer, Robb came out his room. He stopped when he saw Jon, making eye contact. Jon flushed and looked away.
"And why are you two acting strange?" asked Arya. She looked back and forth between the two boys with a dubious expression on her face.
Robb broke the silence as he strode over to Arya and easily scooped her up in his arms.
"What's with the interrogation, constable? Am I a suspect?" Robb joked. Arya giggled as she screamed to be let down.
Jon thanked the gods for the distraction and hurried into the bathroom.
Jon was sitting at the kitchen table fighting off an impending headache. He massaged his temples with the palms of his hands. He was trying to get through his maths work, but it was becoming impossible. He hated math.
One train leaves Moat Cailin and another leaves Casterly Rock at the same time. If they are 450 miles apart, and one train travels at the speed of 110 miles per hour while the other travels at 75 miles per hour, how long will it take for the two trains to meet?
What does it matter when they will meet? Who cares about a train leaving Casterly Rock? It's not like the Lannisters would use public transportation. They had personal chauffeurs and private jets. Jon couldn't help but be bewildered by the incredulity of such a possibility.
"Need help?"
Jon turned his head to see Robb standing over him. Robb leaned in close, his face almost parallel to Jon's as he silently read the problem. Jon could see the subtle red in Robb's hair as the sun was pouring in through the large kitchen windows.
"Oh, this is easy," Robb stated. Robb took the pencil from Jon's hand and bent even closer as he began writing on the paper.
"You can use a distance equation. X equals distance and the time it takes to travel is the distance divided…" Robb continued.
Jon wasn't listening. He was too focused on the closeness of Robb's body…Robb's breathing…Robb's long hands…and the smell of Robb's freshly washed hair and clothes.
"Get it?" Robb asked.
"Yeah, thanks," Jon lied.
Robb flashed him a wide grin before moving away. He picked up the sandwich Jon had made earlier that was sitting on a small plate.
"My reward," Robb said before taking a messy bite out of it. He smiled at Jon again with his mouth full and left the kitchen.
Jon couldn't focus on the book he was reading. He kept tossing in his bed trying to get comfortable. He read the words but none of them seemed to make any sense. Being trapped in the house was making him restless.
Jon threw the book down on his bed and sat up. He let out a long sigh and decided he needed some fresh air. Jon walked through the house, but it was quiet. Ned and Catelyn were out as usual, and everyone else was probably still in school. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and gulped it down. He was about to head to the second floor and sit out on the balcony when he heard the sound of splashing.
Jon walked over to the large kitchen window and peered out. He could see the large swimming pool that was a part of the estate. There was someone in it swimming. He could see a hint of red every time their head rose above the water. It was Robb. Jon swallowed thickly. He felt funny when he was around him. He felt overwhelmingly conscious of every thing Robb did in his presence. The smiles he flashed at Jon and the playful jabs he would throw at his shoulder would send his stomach into a spiraling tornado of flutters.
Jon attributed it to the fact that he never had an older brother, let alone a whole family complete with anxious parents and screaming kids. He never had someone he could share things with or joke around with. That's it. That's what it was.
His body snapped to attention as Robb got out of the pool; the lean muscles in his arms glistened from the water as he pulled himself out. Jon stared as he watched Robb move fluidly to the one of the chairs by the pool and pick up a towel.
The gods had blessed Robb. His bare shoulders and the expanse of chest were broad and sinewy. He was beautifully in shape, even though Jon never saw him exercise. The tightness of his strong back…and his hair. Thick curls would always fall perfectly over his head, framing the bright blue orbs of his eyes. Jon knew Robb was attractive, but he didn't feel jealousy.
He was flung out of his reverie as he noticed Robb staring back at him. Jon froze. Robb had the towel over his shoulders as he gazed at Jon, his eyes unmoving and intense under the sunlight. Jon felt himself blushing furiously. He didn't do anything wrong. He was simply looking to see who was out in the water. He didn't know why he felt embarrassed. He ran out of the kitchen and back into his room.