Chapter 3:
Childhood's End
Jon POV
Jon fought to stifle a moan as Robb rutted against his arse hard and fast.
"You're mine, Jon. Mine.," Robb growled before pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. "I would bond you right here, right now, if I could." He says when he breaks the kiss and starts nipping at Jon's neck.
"We promised your mother we would wait until we were men grown." Jon manages to gasp out through his moans.
"I know," Robb smiles. "Besides, I think Sansa might murder us if she doesn't get to help you plan the mating ceremony."
Robb gave one final, deep thrust before he comes all over Jon's backside. He takes Jon in hand, then. "Come for me, Gràidheag."
Jon came with his alpha's name on his lips.
A short while later, after they had cleaned themselves of their come, Jon's head rested on Robb's chest as the alpha ran his fingers through Jon's curls, as they laid in their bed in comfortable silence.
"I want to visit the Wall," Jon says into the darkness of their chamber.
Robb sits up abruptly, "What?"
"I want to visit the Wall," Jon repeats, turning to look into the Tully blue eyes of his mate. "Ever since we discovered that deserter, something just hasn't felt right."
"Jon, tha—"
"I know you don't believe what he said, but I do," Jon sighs. "Look, if anything I'll be checking on the state of the Night's Watch."
Robb pursed his lips, "I'll go with you."
"You can't," Jon tells him. "With Athair going south, you will be the sole head of the household. You will be needed here, me not so much."
"Fine," Robb growled. "But you go with an escort. And Aly and Jarrad."
"Of course."
•)()()()(•)()()()(•
Jon sits in the Lady's Solar working on his needlework with his sisters and the other fems of Winterfell. Bainflath Myrcella and her handmaidens sat with them, and Septa Mordane coos at her stiches even though Jon can see from across the table that they are crooked.
Jon glances at Arya, who he can tell is getting frustrated with having to sit still for so long, if the way she seemed to be stabbing her fabric with her needle. Not that Jon could blame her, six days with the king in Winterfell and even Baintighearna Catelyn, Southron born though she is, was getting antsy.
He gets an idea then. They might not be able to train themselves, but they can watch. He sets down his piece, before turning to Arya.
"Would you like to join me for a stroll through the godswood, Piuthar Beag?"
Arya nods, beaming.
"I'm coming too!" Sansa declares.
They all begin to put away their things, Arya more hastily than the rest of them.
"Where are you going?" Septa Mordane demands, even though she knows that, as Baintriath of House Stark, Jon has more authority than she does.
"Just for a walk, Septa." Jon smiles at her.
"May I come?" Bainflath Myrcella asks, and Jon notes that her eyes are bright with hope.
"Of course, Princess."
And so, Myrcella puts away her own needlework. She takes Jon's arm, asking enthusiastic questions about the life and culture of the North all the way down to the courtyard.
When they reach the courtyard, Bran and Flath Tommen, both heavily-padded, fight each other with wooden practice swords under the watchful eye of Ridire Rodrik, and Jon fights back a smile when Bran knocks the Baratheon boy down.
"Good, very good," Uachdeann Cassel praises as Bran helps the little prince to his feet. "Robb, why don't you and Prince Joffrey have a go?" he says gesturing towards the rack of practice swords set off to the side of them.
"I am the crown prince, I don't need a dulled blade. I will practice with a real sword like a true masc." Flath Joffrey sneers.
"You want to fight with live steel?" Robb nearly snarls, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. "Fine, let's fight."
"Enough! You will practice with blunted tourney swords or not at all!" Ridire Rodrik scolds.
"Come on, Lordling, fight me!" Joffrey taunts. "Unless of course, you're too scared."
Robb made to say something, but Jon was quicker.
"Robb!" He calls his attention, raising an eyebrow when he locks eyes with the alpha, and watches as his mate relaxes.
Flath Joffrey feigns a yawn then, "I grow tired of these games Lordling, come find me when you are ready to be a masc. Come, Tommen, Myrcella."
"No," Myrcella says, her head held high. "Lady Jon is showing me the godswood."
"Fine, whatever," Flath Joffrey waves dismissively at his sister before he heads towards the Guest House, Sandor Clegane and Flath Tommen at his heels.
•)()()()(•)()()()(•
"Rickon! Don't run!" Jon calls after his youngest brother as he races across the courtyard.
Baintighearna Stark had asked if Jon could watch Rickon for the day. With Athair leaving on a hunt with Rìgh Robert early this morning, taking Robb and Stiùbhard Poole with them, she was in charge of the castle. And it would be easier if her son wasn't at her skirts all day. And so, Jon had gone to collect the youngest Stark after his lessons with Maester Luwin, offering to take him to the godswood to swim in the hot pools.
Jon starts to laugh as Rickon careens around a startled Gage, Winterfell's cook, but it dies on his throat as a desperate, sorrowful howl resounds around the castle.
Ghost and Shaggydog bolt towards the North Gate. And Jon realizes with a jolt that the howling is one of his siblings' wolves though for the life of him, he cannot place which one. Jon takes off after the wolves, picking Rickon up from where he had frozen in place as he went.
When he passes the crypts he can see a crowd gathered around the Broken Tower. He pushes his way through only to see his little brother, Bran, crumpled and broken at the base of the tower. Jon feels as if all the air is knocked out of his body at the sight. He barely notices the girls clinging to his dress in tears, the world a spinning and dazed blur.
"BRAN!" Baintihearna Stark's shout shakes him out of shock. She falls to her knees by her son sobbing, hands hovering over him, too afraid to touch.
"Someone send for Maester Luwin!" Jon just barely manages to get the words out of his mouth before the man appears, rushing to Bran's side checking him over.
"He is still alive," he tells Baintihearna Catelyn before turning to Jon. "Take the children to your chambers, they do not need to see their brother this way."
Jon nods, and leads Sansa and Arya away, Rickon clutched tightly in his arms.
When they reach his and Robb's chambers, he guides them to the bed and under the fur. They lie in silence for a while before Sansa looks up at him from her place by his shoulder.
"Can you sing for us, Jon? Please?" She asks him, red-rimmed eyes wide with a nervous hope. And Jon can see the same look in Arya and Rickon's eyes. Because Jon only ever sings for his siblings. And only when asked.
Jon smiles at them. He takes a moment to think through the songs he knows, before settling on Màthair's Fada Oidhche, a Northern lullaby from the Age of Heroes.
"Mi cuimhnich a' sileadh nan deur sìos do aodann
C'uin mi thubhairt, bidh mi gu dìlinn leig tu rach
C'uin uile siud faileas cha mhór mharbh do solas
Mi cuimhnich tu thubhairt, cha dean leig le gam
Ach uile sin tha bàs agus air triall agus pasaig anochd.
Air èiginn dùin do sùil
Grian tha tearnaich
Bidh tu bi math easaonta fear faod ciùrr do a nis
Thig madainn solas
Bidh tu agus mi bi sàbhailte agus glic.
Cha dean tu dùbhlan amhairc a mach do uinneag
Leannan a huile ni tha reòta
A' cogadh amuigh ar dorus lean air corraich
Cum seo òran tàlaidh
Eadhan c'uin a' ceòl tha fàg.
Air èiginn dùin do sùil
Grian tha tearnaich
Bidh tu bi math easaonta fear faod ciùrr do a nis
Thig madainn solas
Bidh tu agus mi bi sàbhailte agus glic.
When Jon finished his song, all three of his siblings were asleep. Jon himself settled down into the furs, but he didn't dare sleep, his mind still reeling from what he had seen.
Hours later, when Robb creaked the chamber door open, he was still awake.
"Bran?" Jon asked even though he feared the answer.
"He'll live," Robb says. "If he wakes."
Jon nods and Robb makes his way to the bed, kicking off his boots along the way. He scoops up a still sleeping Arya from Jon's other side and lays her on his chest, much like Rickon is lain on Jon's, and looks at Jon over Sansa's head where is lies between them.