A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying the changes. Well I hope someone is reading and enjoying the changes lol

Chapter 10

"The king warned you it would be twins," Dacey said, with a little smile.

"You couldn't have warned us?" Jon glared at her before focusing on Deirdre again, whispering words of encouragement and ignoring her nails digging into his skin. This babe took longer to birth, but Gin pulled it from her at last, and Deirdre collapsed against him. The room was silent save for her labored breathing and Jon saw the worry in Gin's wrinkled features. Pyp was looking at the baby strangely, then glanced up at Jon.

"What is it?" Jon asked quietly.

"Sometimes you have to encourage them. Slap his bottom," the maester explained. "Do it now!"

Gin did as he ordered and after the second slap, the babe wailed, much to everyone's relief. Gin cleaned the babe and passed him to Pyp who looked at it like it would bite him at first. But he grinned at Jon after a moment.

"Is it another boy?" Deirdre asked faintly. "Robb also said there would be two sons."

"Yes, it's a boy," Pyp answered. "This one's got dark hair. He…he looks like you, Jon!" He held the babe up for Jon's inspection, and Jon's heart almost stopped when Pyp nearly dropped him. Relieving him of his burden, Jon looked down at the babe. After a moment, he explained, "He looks like my father and my uncle, a true Stark in coloring." He showed the boy to Deirdre with a smile. "But he has Robb's eyes."

Reaching out and caressing his cheek and what little hair he had ever so gently, Deirdre smiled proudly. "We didn't discuss other names for boys even though Robb suspected there were going to be two of them. I just assumed he'd be with me," she whispered, glancing up at Jon. "I don't know what he'd want to name him. After your father? But Robb thought perhaps Sansa would want her first son to be named Eddard. It seems selfish to take that honor from her."

"I'm assuming you don't want to name him after your side of the family," Jon said and Deirdre quickly shook her head. "You could name him Robb," Jon pointed out, but after a moment she shook her head again. "I think Robb would prefer to honor one of the Starks, rather than himself."

"Rickon was named for my lord grandfather."

"I don't know the Stark names. You should name him what you think he would choose," Deirdre said. "You would know better than I which Stark he would want to honor most."

Jon looked over the babe for a moment. He was even smaller than Brandon and very quiet, but his blue eyes seemed to study Jon although he knew that the child was too young to actually focus on him. He reminded him of another Stark in that moment and Jon kissed his forehead. "Benjen, after our uncle?"

"Robb would like that," Deirdre answered weakly. "It seems fitting that Benjen be born at the Wall."

"Maester, she's bleeding quite a bit," Gin said, her concern apparent.

Jon refocused on Deirdre's face. She was pale as a ghost and her lips hardly had any color to them. Even her breathing seemed shallow. Cradling Benjen carefully against him, Jon moved from behind Deirdre to sit beside her.

"We must give her some yarrow herb tea," Maester Aemon said as he felt around his shelves.

As Gin worked to brew the tea, Jon and Dacey kept an eye on Deirdre. Her eyes fluttered shut more than once, as she drifted off to sleep. Dacey held tight to Brandon and kept trying to keep Deirdre awake.

Deirdre looked at Jon suddenly and whispered, "Promise me you'll take care of them, Jon, until Robb comes for them. My men will be loyal to you and will help you get them to their father. They are so good to me. I know they'll protect my sons as well as they have protected me."

"Do not talk like that. You're going to be fine," Jon replied and lowered his face until their eyes were level. He stroked her hair gently. "I'm not going to let anything happen to your sons or you." Even as he said it, panic was beginning to set in with him as well. He glanced up and even Dacey looked stricken, tightening her hold on Brandon as her eyes flashed from Gin to Deirdre. With all they had gone through to get her and sons safely away from the Twins and to the Wall, the thought of losing her was too much for Dacey to bear. She grasped Deirdre hand tightly as if trying to force her to remain here with them.

"Promise me, Jon," Deirdre urged, tears welling in her eyes.

"I promise." Jon nodded, forcing himself to look as calm as possible.

Brandon started to cry and Deirdre clutched Jon's arm in panic. "Who will nurse them? You've no wet nurses here."

Maester Aemon held out the tea to Jon and pressing his other hand against Deirdre's face. "You'll nurse them, Your Grace. I think you'll be just fine. You just need some of this tea and some rest. You've done well after all you've been though. You're young, strong, and resilient," he reassured Jon and Dacey. "She's not feverish, the birth just took a lot out of her and her body needs rest to recover. You might want to get her more furs and blankets. Loss of blood and the fact she's not used to this cold could put her at risk."

"I'll go get more furs, Jon," Pyp said, rushing from the room.

Gin took Benjen so Jon could help Deirdre drink the tea. He wouldn't let her stop drinking until the mug was empty. After a while, he was relieved when her face regained some color and she seemed more aware. She was still weak, but the bleeding had slowed to a normal amount according to Gin, and she delivered the afterbirth without incident. The maester reiterated that as long as she wasn't feverish, she shouldn't be in danger.

Deirdre insisted on nursing the babies as soon as she could sit up, so Jon helped her to hold them while she did. If anyone thought her lack of modesty around Jon was strange, they didn't remark on it. Dacey remained at Deirdre's side even after the babes had fed, and both of the guards positioned outside as well as the ones from earlier came in to see the boys, smiling at the sight of the two of them. The oldest Mormont sister's loyalty reassured Jon, but he wasn't surprised. The Lord Commander had spoken highly of his nieces. The Wull guard, who Dacey referred to as Ned, took Brandon and held him for a few minutes, then kissed Deirdre on her head affectionately, congratulating her. Jon was surprised to find out she had ten guards with her, all Northmen, and clearly extremely loyal to Deirdre and each other. Dacey cradled a sleeping Benjen with a look of slight awe while Brandon, having been returned from Ned, slept peacefully in his mother's arms.

"Jon, Dacey and the men have been up with me riding hard for two days, will you please find them a safe place to sleep before you rest yourself?" Deirdre asked, her voice drowsy.

"I'll stay with you, Your Grace," Dacey replied.

"No, you won't. I insist that you get some rest. There are guards outside the door and they can rotate so everyone gets some sleep," Deirdre responded firmly, glancing at Jon. "Jon, please?"

"I'll find her and your men some chambers close by. And Lady Mormont, I'll stay with Deirdre and the babes tonight," Jon said, wrapping Brandon in another fur before taking Benjen from Dacey to lay him down beside his brother. Pyp had found a basket big enough for the two of them and had filled it with blankets and furs, placing it at Deirdre's bedside.

"Thank you all for assisting me, Pyp, Gin, Maester Aemon, and Jon. I will never forget what you've done for me and my sons tonight," Deirdre said, her voice full of heartfelt emotions. Turning to Dacey, she continued, "And thank you and the men for always protecting me and caring for me so well. We wouldn't be alive without all of you." She took Dacey's hand and kissed it with a smile, despite Dacey's slight embarrassment.

"Jon, you need your rest, as well. You've just been in a battle and Maester Aemon said you're still healing." Deirdre looked up at him, eyes pleading. "Please, I'll be fine. Don't fuss over me. There has been enough fuss over me lately."

"I insist," Jon answered. "I'll make a pallet on the floor. Don't worry yourself, I'll sleep."

Deirdre smirked at him and said, "I'm Queen in the North, you know. I could command…"

"And you know me, I wouldn't listen, queen or no," Jon returned her smirk with one of his own, taking in the sight of her and her sleeping babes. For the first time that evening, she looked peaceful.

x-x-x

After settling Dacey and the other Northern soldiers in their chambers, Jon stopped by the kitchen to arrange food for Deirdre and himself, and have some sent to her guards. He returned to Deirdre's chambers and encountered no resistance from the guards this time. Both were Umber men and reminded him a bit of the Greatjon and his son. Tall and thickly-muscled, one was close to Ned Stark's age and the other likely ten years older than Jon. He found Ned inside the doorway. In many ways, Ned reminded Jon of Jory as he might have been at Jon's age, only taller: handsome, with thick, dark, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders and a light beard. His dark eyes studied Jon intently, sizing him up, perhaps wondering if he were worthy of the trust Robb had put in him. Or perhaps he wondered if Jon was capable of protecting Deirdre. He'd appeared to be intensely attached to Deirdre from what Jon had seen earlier, and he could tell that the young man knew his way around the sword at his hip. After a moment, the man nodded and stepped outside. The midwife, Gin, had replaced the bedding and even found Deirdre a clean tunic to sleep in. Deirdre had drifted off, so Jon ate quietly before putting together a pallet on the floor.

"Jon," Deirdre whispered and he was at her side. "We have to find Robb. As soon as I am well enough to travel, we'll find him."

"And who will watch your children? Right now, your sons come first," he replied, stroking her hair. It was too soon to tell her.

Tears filled her eyes. "I won't see him in dreams anymore, will I? Without the babes in me, I'll lose that bond, won't I?"

"I don't know. I don't understand how the dreams work myself." He rubbed his eyes.

"Lie here with me, please? Just until I fall asleep. I'm so tired, but I'm still not used to sleeping alone…"

Jon hesitated for a moment. She's just had two children and doesn't know if her husband is alive. Surely a little comfort couldn't be wrong. He moved to the bed, positioning himself beside her. He tried to ignore the way his heart sped up and his insides warmed. She was his brother's widow. He'd just lost Ygritte. But she's haunted my dreams for so long. And she's here now. She reached out and put her palm over his heart.

"I miss hearing his heartbeat," she whispered, molding herself to his side. "Yours is different." She was covered by furs and both of them were clothed, but he knew it was still far too intimate to be considered proper. He just couldn't bring himself to care much. He needed her comfort as much as she needed his. He couldn't think of Robb at all right now, not without feeling as though his heart was being pierced by a thousand knives. But apparently, Deirdre needed to talk about him, so he listened and tried to comfort her.

"Robb missed you so much. He understood why you couldn't come though. And when Theon betrayed him, Lady Stark was so busy being angry with Robb for trusting him that she never saw how much he already blamed himself. He would have given up that damn crown in a heartbeat to go after Theon, to take back Winterfell, and protect your brothers, but he knew he couldn't abandon the Riverlands. Lord Bolton was the one who pushed him to let him send his son, but by then it was too late. No one ever thought Theon would hurt the boys."

Jon took her hand in his, offering her what strength he could as she continued to speak. "Robb just wanted everyone home again: Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon and you, Jon. He wanted you together, safe in Winterfell. He felt it was his duty to bring everyone home. And now that home doesn't even exist anymore."

Taking a slow steady breath, Jon forced away his tears before answering. "I wanted that, too. I wanted to go to him, so desperately."

"He knew your honor would keep you here. When your father died and Robb became King of the North, his honor forced him to do things he didn't want to do. He wanted to trade Jaime for Arya and Sansa, but knew he couldn't. Lady Stark really never forgave him for that. He wanted to go after Theon but was forced to remain in the Riverlands to fight my family. So many betrayals, so much blood on other people's hands and yet he grieved for the lives he lost in battle as well: the soldiers who were just boys, some of them, and forced to fight a war, under his command."

She was quiet for a moment, hesitating to say the rest, "I don't know how much you know about what happened in King's Landing, Jon. Your father found out something he shouldn't have, something that Cersei has kept hidden for many years and that she couldn't let anyone know. She and Jaime were lovers, and Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella aren't Robert Baratheon's trueborn children. They're Jaime's bastards. Bran must have seen them together because Jaime was the one who pushed him out of the tower window. Once your father unraveled everything, Cersei must have arranged Robert's death, and killed your father for attempting to keep Joffrey from the throne," she explained. She met his gaze then, eyes like chips of flint. "I will avenge them. I will kill all of those who betrayed my husband and the Stark family: the Freys, the Boltons, Theon Greyjoy, and the rest of them. My own family too. They'll all die. They must. It's justice and it's right."

Jon's blood ran cold. "You cannot intend to continue to reign as queen, Deirdre. And have Brandon be King in the North? You and your sons would never be safe. From what your men have told me about your enemies, you'd be hunted down like dogs."

"You forget how much the Northmen and the Riverlords loved Robb. They'll follow his heirs until he is found. Once we regroup, I'll have the support I need. I can find more still if I have to, even if it means I must court sell swords. The Freys violated guest rights. That dishonor will bring me new allies. Lady Catelyn has been murdered and her brother is a hostage, so perhaps her sister may finally be persuaded to come to our aid."

Dropping her hand, Jon sat up abruptly and turned to face her, gripping the furs with white fists. "You're speaking nonsense. Sell swords follow gold, not promises of vengeance. Were you to engage them, Tywin Lannister need only offer them more gold than you. You want to go to war again, even as you lie here having just escaped the last one. Haven't you lost enough? Haven't we all lost enough? Do you wish to die so badly and take your sons with you? All for your husband's corpse and a piece of bronze? Have you lost your senses?"

Deirdre pushed herself up, her temper flaring. He'd never seen the look in her eyes before, and was completely caught off guard when her hand met his cheek, then began to push him and pound on his chest with as much strength as she could muster. Grabbing her arms, Jon pinned her beneath him, trying to stop her assault without hurting her. Her eyes were wild, uncomprehending, and she was clearly still exhausted.

"Deirdre, stop," he said quietly, holding her firmly. He embraced her tightly, vaguely worried her guards would rush in here and cut his throat, thinking he meant to harm her. The minutes seemed to stretch interminably as he waited for her to regain some control.

"You don't understand! They took Robb from me because I was with child, then they tried to kill those children. The very reasons I am even alive are the reasons why Robb was betrayed. I need him, Jon." Her voice was pleading now and he felt the knife in his heart twist as he attempted to shush her.

"I'm so tired," she said with a sob. "I can't be strong right now. I'm tired of mourning one person after another. I feel that no one believes that Robb still lives and no one else will help me find him. Even my men, who are so loyal to him, believe he is dead I think, even though they will not say. But I know he lives, with every breath I take, I know he's alive. You're my last hope, Jon, and you must believe me. If I don't get him back…"

Jon pulled back so that he could meet her eyes, cradling her face in his hands. "Even if he's dead, you must keep going. Promise me that. Your sons need you. They're babies, barely hours old. They need their mother. And I can't lose you, not so soon after Robb so please stop thinking about war and revenge."

But Jon also had to survive the upcoming battle with Mance Rayder and find a way to protect her and her sons. She had started to settle down in his arms at last. Unwillingly, after holding her for a while, he noticed how her hair still smelled of vanilla and a familiar desire tugged at him. Nearly all of his last nights in Winterfell, except the last few, had been with her, and it was still hard to imagine her as Robb's wife. Without thinking, he found himself lowering his lips to hers. Whether his senses returned to him on their own or her light gasp startled him, he'd never know. But he withdrew and noticed Deirdre's hand on his chest, pushing him away, with confusion and surprise in her eyes. Quickly, he sat up and turned away.

"Forgive me," he said, feeling so disgusted with himself that he couldn't face her now.

After a few moments, she spoke, her voice gentle. "It's…fine. I suppose it's only normal that you might still feel something."

"No, it was wrong, and I don't know if I still feel that way about you, Deirdre." His voice broke and he attempted to explain. "I just wanted to go back to the way it was. I want to spar with Robb in the yard again and teach Bran how to shoot a bow," Jon replied, voice hoarse. "I want them all to be alive and in Winterfell. When we first kissed in the Godswood and I felt truly happy, I was with you and Robb and Father were alive, Arya was there and would race me riding when father wasn't there, Rickon was running wild as he always did and Bran…Bran was climbing. I even miss Sansa reminding us of our manners. I just wanted your kiss to…I don't know…somehow return us to that night in the Godswood and bring them all back to us, before all of this nightmare happened to everyone I loved, back to the life I once knew."

Deirdre adjusted herself so that she was behind him and held him as he allowed the full weight of his rage and pain over the loss of his father and his brothers take hold of him. He lowered his head, leaning into her embrace, and struggled to hold back the tears for his missing sisters and uncle, as well. He even thought of Lady Catelyn, the mother of his siblings and the wife his father had adored. And he choked away tears for Winterfell, for her people who he'd known and loved. He knew if he let go of his tears, he would never be able to stop them.

Deirdre held him tightly, crying quietly as she rubbed his back and whispered in his ear, "My kiss cannot bring them back. If it could bring even one of them back, I'd kiss you a hundred times. But don't worry. We'll find Arya and Sansa somehow. They are lost, not gone. And we'll find Robb. Together we'll rebuild Winterfell, just as it was. Robb will legitimize you. You'll finally be a Stark and you can leave the Night's Watch, if you wish, have your own wife and children. You'll be like a father to my sons until their father is found. Their Uncle Jon will keep them safe. And they'll love you, as I do, for the rest of your life," she whispered as she held him. "I'll always love you, Jon. You are my brother as you are Robb's."

Taking a deep breath, Jon nodded and closed his eyes tightly. She was suffering enough. She did not need his grief as well. He turned and smiled slightly, allowing his hand to caress her cheek. He nodded and said, "You're right, of course." He did not point out that what she suggested was impossible. Robb was gone and he didn't know about the girls but her promises of a happy future for them all seemed unlikely at best. She was clinging to a dream. Kissing her hand. he said, "Forgive me, but I think I need to be alone tonight."

Deirdre nodded, though she looked guilty and sad. She felt guilty she didn't love him anymore and he felt guilty for daring, in his grief, to want her to still love him. Jon rose and left the room, not looking back. The guards outside glanced up in surprise and Jon asked one of them to remain inside her chambers, outside her bedroom door.

"Jon, this is Adair and I'm Patrek. I don't know if you remember either of us from Winterfell?" The older guard said.

"I do remember you, Robert, but I don't think I've met Adair," Jon said.

"I was barely old enough to go to war with King Robb. My father took some convincing," Adair said with a crooked smile. He was a bit taller than Jon, with sandy-colored hair and wiry muscles. He seemed very friendly and good humored. "My mother took even more." Jon couldn't help wondering why Robb had chosen one so young.

"I imagine so," Jon chuckled. "It's good to see some Winterfell men guarding her."

"The king chose the ten of her guards specifically." Patrek said, proudly. "Well, except Dacey. She was one of King Robb's guard. It's been a great honor to be chosen and to serve her. Her grace is the loveliest woman, as kind as she is beautiful. Oh, my lord, I almost forgot, Dacey was looking for you."

"I am no lord, but thank you." Jon nodded and made his way to Dacey's chambers. He knocked softly in case she was sleeping, but she answered the door, letting him in. Out of her armor in just a tunic and some leggings, she looked softer. Her hair was damp and hung loose down her back. She looked more like a woman, instead of soldier first. His thoughts abruptly deserted him when she slammed him up against the door, her arm across his throat.

"I will kill you if you take advantage of her or her grief," she threatened, rage in her eyes and he tried to remember why he ever thought she had looked soft a few moments ago.

Jon grabbed her arm and, with some difficulty, jerked it from his throat, pushing her away from him. "Explain to me what you mean, my lady, and do it quickly."

"I saw you in her bed. I saw the way you looked at her, the fact you desire her." She shook her head and gave him with a quizzical look, like she couldn't believe he had dared. "She's your brother's wife, my queen, and I will kill any man who harms her, no matter who he is."

"My feelings for her are none of your concern," Jon said coldly.

Dacey came close to him again, clearly unfazed. She lowered her voice in an almost seductive whisper and pulled his face up so she could look deep into his eyes before she said, "Tell me you don't desire her, tell me that I imagined that look in your eyes." Her gaze bore into him. After a few moments, she let go of his face and scoffed. "You men are all the same."

"It's not like that, it's not that simple," Jon blurted out in frustration, clenching his hands into fists. Dacey studied him for a moment before her eyes widened. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut because he realized he'd given himself away and she knew it wasn't desire she'd seen, but something else. He quickly threw his hands up in a defensive gesture, as if it would stop her from leaping to any conclusions, and added. "It was before she married Robb. He knew…its a long story. But her feelings for me, if they ever existed, are gone. She only loves Robb. But she and her sons are…all I have left."

"I didn't know," Dacey began, an apology in her voice, if not her words. Both of them looked at each other with uncertainty because they had both been wrong about one another. She attempted to smooth it over, with her normal level of diplomacy. "I'm very protective of her. And I know how men are about taking what they want."

"I'm not like that," Jon replied icily.

Dacey regarded him for a few moments, and abruptly, the fight left her eyes, replaced with a look with which was fast becoming familiar, a look that mirrored his own eyes he imagined. She'd loved Robb too; he could see that now. She suffered, mourning her king and fellow soldiers, but couldn't allow herself to be vulnerable when there were others to protect. This nightmare, this grief had left none of them untouched, had left them searching for whatever comfort or solace they could find. She reached out again and put her hand on his shoulder, stepping closer to him. Jon watched her uneasily as her voice lowered seductively. "Perhaps we don't have to be alone tonight…"

Part of him wanted to agree to stay, so he did not have to sleep alone tonight of all nights. Plus, she was beautiful, after all. Her strength reminded him of what he admired about Ygritte and other women of the Free Folk. He couldn't stay the night with her for the same reason: not being alone was not justification. Jon shook his head and looked at her sadly. "I don't think that's wise, my lady. And I took a vow." That felt like a lie. It was true, he had taken a vow, but he had broken so many vows, including the vow of celibacy. But she wasn't Ygritte and he would never again make love to a woman he didn't love.

She lowered her hand quickly, turning away slightly as she schooled her features. "Of course. I didn't mean…forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive. None of us are feeling quite like ourselves and are seeking solace." He felt like he should say or do something to make certain she did not feel rejected or insulted, but in all honestly, he knew that Dacey could likely verbally shred him if he got his words wrong and made it sound like he felt pity for her in any way. So he said nothing other than wishing her good-night. He slipped from the room before she could reply.