Bran was in awe at the man who had entered the long dining hall.

His head was held high , tresses of moonlight hair hung to his shoulders, and his lips held a slight pout. His skin was pale and his muscles threatened to break through the thick material of his winter coat. Though, his eyes were what held Bran in a trance. They were gray so dark they seemed almost black, there was little they did not see. Bran found it was test of his strength to look away, before their eyes could meet. He quickly looked down at the uneaten food on his plate, trying to divert his attention anywhere but the newcomer.

Jon Snow was a name that was rarely spoken through the land of Westeros, but his story was a tale to be told. It was said that he was a bastard, his father having thrown him out as babe. It was unheard of; an Alpha being rejected from his family. Jon was taken in by the then leader of the Night's Watch, Jeor Mormont. He took in Jon as a babe, and trained him to be ruthless so that one day he could rule the Night's Watch. And now, as Leader of the Night's Watch, he has left The Wall to try and find a mate.

" Jon Snow! My eyes must be failing me if you have truly paid us a visit. What brings you here?"

Though as Eddard spoke, Jon's eyes did not meet his questioning glance, for his eyes were still searching the quieted hall. Though he did speak, " I am searching for a mate. And my heart has drawn me to your reign Eddard. Would it be possible for me stay a fortnight or two?"

Eddard let out a gleeful laugh and let his hand slam onto the tale, startling Jon to look at Eddard as he stood up and spoke, " You are a guest of Winterfell; You will have a guest room in our castle, and may reside her as long as you see fit. You are not a foe to Winterfell, but a friend. So please, Either join the feast or have a maid show you to a guest room. Make our home your home. To Jon Sow!" Eddard raised his glass, as did everyone residing in the hall. Laughter and cheer seemed to sweep across the hall, talk of Jon and a mate spreading like wildfire. Though no one seemed to notice Jon slipping out of the hall.

Bran had watched Jon Snow, watched the way he held himself, watched the way he talked, even the way he breathed. He was a specimen that kept Bran captivated. Never before had he ever felt an attraction such as this to anyone. It scared him.

" Done drooling over that bastard?"

Sansa's agitated voice broke him from his thoughts. She had a sour look on her face, and her orange dress and pulled back hair made her look even more angry. " You planning on mating with that mongrel? He's a bastard Bran, and a well-know one too, I bet all the Omega's chase after him. You don't stand a chance. In fact, I bet he'd take even me, a Beta, over you. So give up while you're ahead." Sansa found that she had gotten her message across well enough that she could take her leave.

Bran watched her leave and sighed, she was right. He looked at Arya and saw her with her head in the clouds, completely oblivious to the outside world. He looked to his friend Samwell and saw him furiously munching on a leg of boar. Bran looked to his mother and whispered her a word of farewell for the night, leaving his father to continue drowning in ale. Bran stood and silently made his way through the loud hall, until he was outside, away from the noise. He continued walking until we was outside the door of the home he knew so well.

Bran closed his eyes and breathed in the chilly winter air of Winterfell, allowing himself to bask in it's freezing glow. Sometimes he wished he could feel the heat on his skin from the sun, but that would never come, for Winterfell never saw the glowing rays of the sun, only the dark clouds of Zeus's reign. He dreamt of days were he could wear anything but his thick coat, and see the stars in the sky. But that would not be coming, at least any time soon.

A tear slipped slowly, agonizingly slow, down his pale cheek and hit the ground, turning to ice instantly.

Bran finally got his wits together and made his way to is to the staircase in the castle. He walked up the steps and seemed to daydream. He walked down the hallway at a slow pace and stopped at a brown wood door, presumably to his room. He gripped the door as best as he could and made his way inside and towards he bed, dropping down and letting out a long breath of air. He didn't know how long he laid there. With his face smushed against the thick covers of the bed, he breathed out a deep sigh.

" And I thought this night could not get any better."

Bran could only gasp, before he was turned over, quite quickly might he add, and a face was pushed into the crook of his neck. He stilled, fearful that Jon would maul or bite him. He felt the muscled the body pressed against him take a deep breath and shudder. Was that a good sign?

" I smelt you in the hall, thought I was losing you mind you smelt so good. Like the warm grass of autumn I have not smelt in ages. How can one smell so good?" Bran was speechless. He gazed as the top of Jon's head, the midnight curls falling onto him, and let out a needy moan he didn't even know he had in him. Jon responded with a deep throaty growl and let himself feast on the vast expanse of Bran's neck. Bran was in pure ecstasy, not believing any of this was real.

Jon ripped himself away from Bran's neck, though making sure to leave dark purple marks in his wake, and proceeded to practically rip off Bran's large winter coat, leaving him in a thin shirt. Bran breathed heavily and laid back against the thick covers of the bead, allowing Jon to stare. And Jon gazed upon Bran's form, taking in his small lithe form and blushing face. A predatory look swept across Jon's face, before he swooped down, planning to take the breath out of Bran's lungs. But their lips never met.

Bran shot up in his bed, looking around the dark room, only then realizing that he had been in a deep slumber. He groaned and flopped back in his bed, as well as wiping the sweat from his forehead he didn't even know had been there. He looked out the window in his room that showed the village outdoors and saw that the sun had yet to rise. He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon. He rose from his bed and made his way to to the window. He noticed he still had on his clothes from the previous night, meaning he had made his way into his bedroom and had promptly passed out.

He proceeded to dress himself in new clothes and make his way out of his quarters. As he walked down the hallway he looked and noticed another room was also wide open. It was the guest room, meaning Jon Snow was also awake. Hopefully the two wouldn't run into each other. Jon made his way to the kitchens, keen on making himself a meal that would satisfy his prominent hunger, since he had barely eaten at the feast the night before.

The kitchens were empty of any servants, for it was even too early for them to rise. Bran found a few pieces of his favorite pale cheese, he found it melted in his mouth, and a slice of his favorite olive bread. As he was leaving with his breakfast, he peeked his head into the breakfast room and balked back in surprise. Jon Snow was sitting at the head of the table, eating a steaming bowl of oatmeal. But it seems he wasn't quick enough to avoid being seen for Jon raised his head and smiled at the sight of a young man, holding a platter of bread and cheese to his chest like it was his prized possession.

" Would you like to keep me company? I promise not to eat what you have prepared for yourself." A smiling Jon Snow looked at Bran and he barely felt himself nod his head and go over to his usual seat at the table, across from Jon.

Bran sat his food down and ate quietly, refusing to look at Jon, knowing he would make a fool of himself. Thought it seemed Jon was determined to make civil conversation.

" Do I frighten you little Raven?"