Note: Sorry it took so long for this chapter, will try to do updates a little bit more frequently from now on! And I've tried to change the way I'm doing dialogue in this chapter, hope it's not confusing or anything! Thanks for all the reviews, its really great to get response from all of you!


Chapter 3.

He sat down, his knees tight up against his chest like a child with his eyes closed. Breathing in. Breathing out. The trees around him were all very still, except for a weak flickering amongst the leaves, leaving a tranquility to the set that was not in any way matched with the chaos roaring inside Jon Snows chest.

Everything was upside-down. Nothing made sense anymore.

Who in their right state of mind could feel what he felt? Or do what he did? After Rob aggressively thrusted his body against his and smacked their lips tight he panicked. Like a scared little boy he ran out of the room, out of the building and through the gates of Winterfell. When he reached the woods, panting for air, he finally sat down behind a tree.

He'd never been this scared in his whole life. He was angry, sad, longing and confused. Not only had Rob just done the thing he had been wishing him to do for such a long time now, but he had also taken him off guard. For some reason he just felt so... Confused. Scared.

And when he started to reflect upon the event, somewhat annoyed with the reaction of his body: his manhood was throbbing against his legs. After trying to ignore it he couldn't resist any longer, but slid his hands inside his pants and tugged away until everything around him was a degrading mixture of pleasure, humiliation and confusion.

Maybe humiliation wasn't the right term, but he couldn't think of anything else as he sat there. Cum stains on his clothes and trying his best not to let his mind go wild over the events of the evening.

One part of him felt angry with Rob and wanted to confront him with an violent manner for what he did to him. The feelings he stirred up almost split his head in half!

Another part wanted to go back and just see him. Look at him as he slept in his bed. With a flickering hope that maybe...

No. That was not to happened and he knew it. Rob was probably drunk, and this was a mistake on his behalf and Jon should NOT think that this meant ANYTHING.

How could it? They were brothers.

Rob tried to close his eyes and fall back to sleep. But every time he did, the picture of Jons face as he stumbled towards the door and running into the night reappeared. What was wrong with him? He cursed himself as he lay in his bed. This could ruin everything! How was he supposed to talk to him again? Or even looking at him?

He sighed.

His first reaction had been to run after him, but something inside of him felt like it would break if he had to be rejected even further. It was bad enough as it was, no need to make it worse.

...

Sansa walked alongside her mother and one of the maids out on the courtyard. They were discussing something together, and by the judge of their voices it had to be a matter of importance. For some reason she couldn't seem to pay attention regardless of how many times her mother would look at her with that gaze saying "Im waiting for a response form you"...

The Baratheons were arriving tomorrow. Together with their son, the Eire of the throne. Sansa sighed in bliss. Their parents seemed to be inclined that there was to be a marriage between the two of them. Oh bliss, she thought as she thanked the old gods and the new for the future that was ahead. Just imagine, the handsome Joffrey Baratheon, future king of Westeros, to be her beloved? Hers to cherish and adore. To be his betrothed and carry his children.

Could life play out in a more beautiful way?

She thought not.

...

Rob took another gulp of his beer. He was in the dining hall. He had spent the bigger part of the day trying to find Jon, but without success. He now, just a couple of seconds ago, was told by Theon that the ravenhaired young man had gone out with some of the other men to help out in a nearby village. He was apparently supposed to be gone until the next morning.

Rob couldn't blame him. He knew that they eventually had to see eachother again. If he could run away from it like Jon, he probably would since every part of him was bursting from anxiety. It was like his nerves decided to try out a new dance that involved twisting his chest until it wanted to be separated from the rest of his body. But, as the Eire of Winterfell, there was no choice for him but to stay put and do his duties as the eldest son of Lord Stark.

"So, you wanna go hunting tomorrow with the rest of us?" asked Theon with his mouth full of food. Rob could easily understand why most of the sex that Theon ever would get would come about through the power of money. Someone with that lack of manners could not possibly fill anyone with lust unless it would profit them.

Rob faked a smile. "No thanks, got some things to take care of", and before Theon would get a chance to get with any further questions regard what that would be Rob emptied his beer and left the table.

Not only did he have to wait until the coming day until he would see Jon again, but he would also probably have to spend it with Theon.

What had he done for the gods to be this cruel?

...

As Rob later sat in a meeting with the counselors of Winterfell and his father, the sound of fanfare reached them and they rose from their seats. The Baratheons. They were one day early. In the traditional manner all of the house of Stark gathered on the courtyard and welcomed their guests. Amongst his family he could see Sansa standing with her eyes fixed upon Joffrey as soon as he came through the gates. He had heard about their fathers plans to unite them both and if he was to be honest it seemed like an perfectly good idea. For Winterfell. But with regards of his sisters happiness, he was worried that the blonde heir would make the glow in her eyes fade until she was left with nothing but bitterness and an ungrateful husband.

"You got fat", Robert Baratheon said as he sat down from his horse, walking up to Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. Eddard gave him a look that seemed to be saying "you should see yourself".

The king smirked and they both laughed as they embraced eachother.

The two of them went of towards the main hall where the guests was to be greeted with a hastily put together meal for their arrival. The bigger feast was still set to be the coming day so for now they would have to settle with some food to fill them up after their long journey.

Rob looked around at the rest of the following. Shorter then everyone else was The Imp, Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister. It was no secret that he was as hated by his father as cold was to the crops. The Imp looked around as to judge whether or not he would be able to find something or someone to spend his time and money upon but to no avail. With a shrug of resignation he started speaking to one of the younger riders that came with them and walked away against the stabled to find a suitable stall for his horse.

Rob turned around and started walking towards the main hall to join his father in welcoming their guests. Since the plans regarding marriage between the future king of Westeros and his beloved sister apparently was the focus of the visit he felt that it would look bad if he would be absent from the negotiations. After all, he was the future Lord of Winterfell.

...

Eddard and Robert walked together out of the main hall after the last beer of the evening was finished, with their bellies filled to the brink with food. Robert belly being the fuller one, since it had the volume to host more delicacies then Eddards.

They made their way to the crypt, as to pay their respect for the dead. Cersei, the queen and Robert wife, had watched them leave the hall with a hint of bitterness in her eyes. She knew all to well why they were leaving and where they were going. "Even after her death she haunts me", Cersei thought as she sipped on her wine.

The crypt was dark and filled of shadows cast by the flickering light from the torches sticking out of the cold stone walls. The humidity down there was high and it smelled of dirt and soil. Eddard stopped quietly in his steps as they both fell silent when Roberts gaze caught the silhouette of a burial statue alongside one of the walls. Robert walked up to the statue, portraying a woman with a veil over her head. It had gone old from the humidity, and her arms had been covered in a thin layer of fungus, making her look ghost-like in the dim flickering light.

And to Robert, ghost-like was exactly the words to describe how he felt seeing the stoneface in front of him. Drops of water was escaping from the statues hand that was postured out in front of him. Like a gesture saying come with me. How he wish he could.

He took out a feather of brown and red out of his robes, and placed it in her open palm. Looking up into her face once again, he felt his throat going thick of emotion.

"Did you have to burry her in a place like this?"

Eddard stood silent as Robert spoke to him, not turning around to look in his eyes but with his gaze fixed on the stone woman.

"She should be on a hill somewhere, with the sun and the clouds above her", Robert said with his voice trembling. His eyes had gone blank, not as if he would cry, but as if the emotions was to heavy to ever come out.

"She was my sister, this is where she belongs", Eddard said in what was almost a whisper.

"She belonged with me". The firmness in his voice was impossible to miss, just as the tone of bitterness escaping his mouth with it.

"In my dreams, I kill 'em every night", Robert said as he raised his hand to touch the cold face of the woman.

"It's done your grace, the Targaryens are gone".

Robert's eyes turned dark. With a tone filled of built up hatred he said "not all of them".

...

As they walked out, Robert broke the silence.

"You heard what happened to Jon Arryn I suppose?".

Eddard gave a nod.

"And you know what Im here to ask of you?".

Eddard nodded again.

"I want you to come to Kings Landing to be The Hand of The King".

Eddard stopped in his steps. He opened his mouth as to say something, but remained silent.

Robert looked at him.

"I know that this is not what you want, but you're the only friend I still got that I can put my trust in". Eddard met his gaze and gave a nod. "I understand that".

"So is that a yes?".

Eddard smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Do I have any choice?".

"Not really", Robert answered and put his arm around the shoulder of his friend as they walked back into the main building.

...

As the dawn of the new day arrived, Rob woke up from dreaming as the first rays of light found its way through the locks of his window. Caressing his face, it made him look alkali a statue of divinity as it highlighted his sharp angled features and made his brown hair take on a dark golden glow.

The big celebration was to be held the coming evening, and his father was to make it official that he would go to Kings Landing. He found out about it the night before just as he was of to his chambers. Of course, he should be proud of his father for such an honorable position. But he couldn't shake the feeling of concern as the former Hand of The King had died recently and was like the ones before him not to old when he did. It was a job that gave fame and honor, but also a not very long life. He shook his head as to get rid of the uneasiness of his thoughts and stood up to get dressed for the day. He was to talk to some of the farmers that had arrived from a village nearby about the crops and cattle they were supposed to receive from them. Business as usual, so to say.

...

Jon brushed the hair out of his face as their horses made their way over the highlands of the north. The wind was cold and if it wasn't for the thick black coat of fur around his shoulders he'd probably not be able to keep from chattering his teeth. When he had been asked to join the other men and help out with the rising of a new roof to one of the nearby villages main buildings he had seen it as a perfect chance to get away from Winterfell and find some peace of mind. But as always, one can run to the other side of the lands but not from one's head. The whole night he'd been turning back and forth in the simple bed made out of hay, trying his best not to think about Rob.

What was he to do? His body yearned for Robs touch, his chest filled with unease that seemed to only be solved with the presence of him. But at the same time everything inside of Jon told him that this was wrong. One does not lay with other men, everyone knew that. Jon never thought much about what other people said about him. Being the bastard he was used to harsh words and coldness from the people around him. But to be called out for this?

He looked to his left. Far away he could almost see the white lining that was The Wall. He had dreamt about it ever since he was a kid. There nobody would know who he was, and even if they did they wouldn't care. Many of the men who came there had worse labels upon them then being a bastard.

He knew that if he left, he might never see Winterfell again. He might not ever see Rob again.

Maybe it was for the best?

He started to think about the gods. Jon was not really one to think about such things, but he couldn't help but wonder what the gods would say about this. The new gods with all their rules and commandments. The old ones with their ancient traditions. Would any of them spare his longing? Or would they all condemn him?

Maybe it was for the best. If he left, there would be nothing to regret and no mistakes to be made.


End note: I know this chapter was not very focused on the slash pairing, but I promise that there will be more of that for the next one!