"So, how was school?" Sansa asked Arya as they ate.
Her younger sister shrugged, stuffing a piece of chicken in her mouth and making disgusted faces at Bran.
"This tastes so dry, right Bran?"
Bran nodded. "Very dry. Who made it?"
Sansa rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she poured more gravy over her meal. "Guys, be grateful. They're leftovers."
"Ah, four-day-old food. Delicious!" Arya replied sarcastically. "When will Jon call? It's been nearly two days!"
"He's probably having fun with Edward. Calm down, he'll call soon!" Sansa assured her sister. "I was thinking we could have a makeover! I've hired a stylist to just switch up our styles."
Arya raised her eyebrow. "The 'New Year, new me' was a couple of weeks ago, remember?"
"I know," said Sansa. "But I'm thinking of going blonde..."
"Blonde?!" Bran exclaimed.
"Yeah, I agree with Bran! You're better being a redhead, it suits you." Arya pulled a face.
Sansa pouted. "Hey! How about the ombre look? Natural then blonde!"
She took her phone out and showed her siblings some photos from online, scrolling through them.
"I guess you might look nice," said Bran hesitantly.
"You are now my favourite," Sansa told him.
Arya rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Fine, let's have a makeover." She gestured to their brother. "Is he going to get one too?"
Sansa nodded. "Definitely! This long-haired look doesn't suit you as much as it did when you were little, Bran. Time to cut those locks!"
"It works on Jon!" Bran argued, a hand grabbing onto his long hair in fear.
"Yeah because he can kill any look. He's Jon." Sansa pointed with her fork. "All of us look like hot messes and somehow, despite being our half-brother, he turns out to be the most good looking out of us all! Come on, guys!"
"Robb was okay," argued Arya.
Sansa nodded. "For a redhead. Jon can rock a man bun. Could Robb? Or Bran? Or even Rickon?"
Arya frowned. "I guess not. Why is Jon the better looking one out of us again?"
"I don't know," sighed Sansa.
"Hey, I should get a nose piercing!" Arya grinned.
Bran began to smile. "When Jon comes back and sees us all changed..."
"He'd have a heart attack!" Sansa laughed with him. "Are you guys in?"
Bran nodded which made Arya nod reluctantly. They shared a look before turning to Sansa who grinned happily.
"Oh my God, we're going to look amazing by the time we're done!" Their older sister said.
Several hours later, Arya was admiring her wavy shorter hair with a small smile. She also had gone with a nose piercing which she got down at the beauty store. It was small, a little diamond which was semi-expensive for a piercing but it was another gift from Sansa.
She had to admit, her older sister was mostly right at times.
Heading downstairs, she winked at Bran who blushed as Meera talked to him animatedly. She and Jojen were sleeping over for the rest of the week with their father's permission on the conditions that they studied and Sansa should drive them to their respective education centres since Howland was going away on business.
Arya wanted to laugh at the way Meera was running her fingers through Bran's short hair and bangs. It made him look even cuter with his glasses as if he was a nerd.
Jojen didn't seem too comfortable about his older sister treating his best friend as such but he let it happen, knowing that the two held some sort of feelings for each other. He instead sent an awkward smile at Arya's way who responded with a cheeky wink and shrug before heading to the kitchen to find Sansa sipping on wine.
"Jon called. Said you both were asleep. It is past twelve on Wednesday morning," she said, taking another sip from the glass.
"You should have 'woken' me up."
"He'll tell us why he didn't call when he gets back. He promises to call you later today though."
Arya nodded, giving her sister's back a short hug before pouring herself a glass of water.
"Your hair looks better than mine," she said.
Sansa chuckled, running a hand through the bottom of her hair which was now dyed a light shade of blonde. She was still a redhead but with an edge.
"No, yours is better!" The elder sister retorted. "And the nose piercing makes it look better! You're adorable, like Aunt Lyanna!"
Arya blushed furiously. Everyone compared her to Lyanna. She wasn't upset with it but her late aunt had caused some broken hearts, especially her father's after her tragic death.
"How did she die?" Arya asked quietly. "Did Dad even talk to us about that?"
Sansa sighed. "I know he told Robb and Jon because they were old enough to know but Dad forgot to tell the rest of us. Robb told me she died in a car accident but Jon told me she was murdered in her boyfriend's house. Either way, Dad was so torn up about it."
"I think Jon was telling the truth," the younger sister said.
"Yeah," nodded Sansa. "Robb wanted to soften the blow but Jon's so honest and I'm glad. It hurts either way, she was too young."
"Bran's age," said Arya.
Sansa smiled sadly. "Yeah."
"What happened to Jon? Why didn't he call?"
"I don't know. He just apologised that he was busy and he'd tell us everything when he got home."
"Okay," whispered Arya. "I'll go to bed now."
Sansa gave her a small smile. "I'll kick those three out there upstairs too. Good night," she said.
Arya was about to leave but then she thought against it and placed a kiss on her sister's cheek. "I'm glad we're close again."
Sansa's heart swelled and she patted Arya's arm before the younger sister finally went upstairs, glass cup in hand semi-full with water.
She was about to tell the others to go to bed but decided to let them have ten more minutes with how she saw Bran smile genuinely around them. Not that he didn't smile around his siblings but being cooped up indoors when he used to climb trees as if it was his life job had made him become detached at times, often staring off into the distance, longing for something exciting to happen.
"Ten more minutes, guys," she told them softly. "Or else, I'll get Hodor to throw you over his shoulders."
She headed upstairs and sighed when her phone began to ring. It was Loras.
Pursing her lips, she hung up and continued up the stairs to her room, getting into her bed and letting tears fall down her cheeks as she fell into a deep sleep.
...
Tuesday morning in Ireland was wonderful. Everything looked like a winter wonderland and the blizzard had not lasted as long as they thought it would although it was due to return later in the week.
So, Jon and Ygritte had decided to take Neddy outside to play in the snow.
"He'd get cold!" Ygritte chastised Jon as he tried to unzip their son's snowsuit down a little.
"He'll choke. And if he's anything like me, he'd be accustomed to the cold."
Ygritte rolled her eyes, zipping the suit up but not all the way to harm their son.
"You know nothin', Jon Snow," she tutted.
Jon chuckled. "Is that right?" He asked her. "Who is the one with not one but four younger siblings? Whose surname is literally 'Snow'?"
Ygritte glared at him but her gaze softened as she let out a soft chuckle. She wiped a bit of snowflake from his beard before kissing Neddy's head.
"I'm surprised the Tullys liked you."
"I'm just as surprised but they're my siblings' family so they are mine too now." Jon shrugged.
She nodded and braced herself and Neddy as the cold picked up, the wind blowing furiously around them.
Jon remained put, closing his eyes as a few snowflakes glossed over his face, biting at his cheeks.
"My scarf!"
His eyes opened and he watched as Ygritte's bright red scarf blew away, landing tangled in a tree.
"Ah, come on!" The Irishwoman sighed. "That was my favourite scarf."
"I'll get it for you," said Jon.
The wind had died down and he walked over to the tree, testing a few branches.
"It's been a while since I've climbed anything. Bran loved climbing trees before..."
"Same," she told him to lighten the mood. "That's how we met."
A faint blush grew on Jon's face but he wished it was from the cold as opposed to how he remembering feeling back when he was fifteen.
When he was was a teenager, he had thought that the redhead had been kissed by fire, that she was beautiful.
Half his family were kissed by fired but not as much as the girl he used to be in love with.
"My climbing days are over though," she said.
Jon laughed. "Okay, wish me luck."
He tugged at a stable branch and lifted himself up.
"Keep going," the redhead said. "Look at Daddy, Neddy! He's climbing the tree! You'll be able to one day like us."
Jon continued, lifting himself up. "God, I wish I had Bran's determination. These are bloody hard to climb, Ygritte!" He called down.
"Your brother ain't here! Even if he was, he can't do it!" She called back up.
Rolling his eyes, he continued. He looked down and realised that he was kind of far up.
"Oh, shit," he mumbled under his breath.
He had remembered when Bran was nine and he'd slipped, almost breaking his spine. He was up and running a couple of months after much to the family's relief as the child had been in a short coma. Jon had been twenty and he'd rushed home to sit by the child's bedside for a week with Catelyn who had not spoken to him throughout. She did send him sad looks though and faint consoling smiles.
"Okay..." He breathed out, untangling the scarf as he sat down on a branch. "I'm-I'm going to throw it down now." He balled it up and dropped it, Ygritte easily catching it with one hand.
"You okay up there?" She asked him.
Jon faltered. "Uh...," he trailed off, realising that he was shaking. "I-I don't exactly know how to get back down."
Ygritte let out a groan. "You idiot! I should have-"
"Berating me isn't going to do anything!" Jon argued back. "J-Just get a ladder!"
"The ladder's broken. My grandad is too lazy to buy another one since he hasn't a reason to yet!"
"Fuck my life," mumbled Jon.
Ygritte looked around. "Give me a second, yeah? I'll put Neddy inside and I'll catch ya!"
She rushed inside and plopped Neddy beside her grandfather by the fireplace before heading back outside.
"Okay," she waved up at Jon. "Drop and I'll catch ya! I'm stronger than I look!"
Jon shook his head. "I'd rather Kaven catch me. He actually looks stronger than he looks!"
Ygritte grunted in frustration. "Do you want to get down or what?! And keep your dignity?!"
Jon contemplated his choices until he came to a decision.
"If I kill the mother of my child by crushing her, will I go to jail?" Jon asked nervously.
Ygritte glared up at him, thrusting her arms up into the air underneath him.
"Do it," she yelled at him.
Jon took a deep breath in and out, sending a quick prayer to the ones above before he felt himself drop and everything went black.
...
"Wakey, wakey sunshine!" Jon heard. He frowned. "Rise and shine, sunshine!" The voice tried again.
Hesitantly, Jon opened his eyes to see Robb standing over him, relief over his features.
"Ah, the man finally awakens!" Robb grinned. "Got a bit scared there, Jon!"
"R-Robb?" Jon mumbled, holding a hand to his head.
Robb handed him a glass of water and some pills. "Take them. Sorry for daring you to go up that tree. I thought you could get back down. Turns out, you can't," the redhead laughed.
"Ho-How...?" Jon breathed out, disbelief in his eyes. "You're dead."
Robb frowned. "How hard did you hit your head, Jon?" Robb asked, checking Jon over with a hand on his brother's head. He slipped out a pen with a light from his suit pocket and flashed it in Jon's eyes. "You might have a concussion, bro. Eyes are dilated."
Jon shook his head, pushing Robb off of him. "What's going on?"
He looked around. He was in Robb's old room.
"Why am I...?"
"You're worrying me, Jon. Should I call Ma?" Robb asked, already heading towards the door.
Jon frowned. Why would Catelyn care?
He heard Robb call out for his mother and she soon rushed into the room, cradling Jon against her chest.
"I don't care if you're thirty or three but you're still my baby," she said, kissing the bump on his head.
Jon almost pushed her away in shock but he felt himself accepting the motherly love.
"Robb, I don't care how old you are," her Irish accent rang through. "But next time this happens, I'll waste no time in hitting you over the head!"
Robb laughed at his mother's threat. "Nice to see I'm loved less than my twin, Mother."
Catelyn gave him a loving smile back. "Call Ygritte. Tell her to bring the kids over, I'll-"
"Not Ygritte," Jon pushed Catelyn away in confusion. "Kids?"
"Yeah, you dropped Edward and Rosamund off at a kid's birthday party," Robb said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "Ma, he's out of it."
Catelyn looked Jon over, shaking her head as she clicked her tongue in slight distress. "Shall we take him to the hospital? Get your dad to look him over?"
Dad's alive too, Jon thought.
"Dany-" Jon started to say.
"Of course he'd want his best friend to check him over," Robb said. "I'm your best friend over her, okay? I don't care which place Tarly and Tollett come in as long as I'm first."
Everything was becoming so confusing to Jon but he kept quiet, basking in his brother's presence.
Catelyn left to go and start the car and it was then when Jon noticed that it was snowing outside.
"We're half-brothers, Robb," Jon said, shaking his head.
Robb's face contorted into pure confusion. "Half-what? What bullshit has your fall got you talking about? We're twins. I'm older by a minute, fifteen seconds."
Jon's eyes widened. "W-what?" He breathed out.
"Oh, okay, you got me! You're older by a minute and fifteen seconds, sheesh!" Robb said.
"Jon!"
Jon turned towards the door where Arya was, rushing to give him a tight hug. When she let go, she punched Robb in the arm.
"Ow, you little bitch!" Robb frowned but there was no malice in his words.
"He could have died, Robert!" Their younger sister said.
"I get it! He's the family favourite and if he dies, you'll most certainly end me too," said Robb, a large smile on his face.
Family favourite? Jon frowned.
His siblings turned to face him, smiles playing on their lips.
"If you're feeling better, we can continue to celebrate our thirtieth in style. I promise no more tree climbing. We'll leave that to Bran." Robb winked.
Thirtieth? Jon was twenty-eight, not thirty.
"Where's Talisa and the twins?" Robb asked Arya.
"Downstairs. Talisa's really trying to get your cakes done by this evening. I'll go help her since Sansa's too busy making out with Joffrey," she said, pulling a face of distaste.
Robb nodded, the pair watching her leave as Catelyn returned, her jacket on.
"Come on, lads!"
Robb helped Jon to his feet and the three of them made their way to the hospital to greet Ned by the entrance.
"You boys are lucky I just finished an operation." He smiled. "I'll patch you up, give you a-"
"MRI scan," finished Jon.
Ned smiled proudly at his son. "Well done, boy." He turned to his other son. "Keep up, Robb." He added teasingly.
"I still made it, Dad!" Robb replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just because he's quick when he's concussed doesn't make him the better doctor. He's more prone to mistakes this way."
Jon followed his family, his eyes landing on Daenerys. She sent him a bright smile, making her way over.
"Ouch, that looks sore!" She told him.
"Yeah, fell out of a tree," Jon said dumbly.
Dany laughed. "Sounds about right," she said. "Drogo and I can't make it to your party but we did get you an awesome present that we can all go!"
His heart fell. He spotted her wedding band and her late husband waiting for her, sending a genuinely friendly smile at Jon's way. It seemed he worked here too.
"What is it?" Jon asked.
"Paintball session! You, Robb and I can totally take on Drogo, Sam and Edd!" Dany beamed. "Come on, it will be fun!"
Jon nodded. "Uh, yeah sure. I-I better go." He smiled sadly, gesturing behind him to where his family waited by the lift.
He wanted to kiss her cheek but decided against it.
This wasn't his life. What was going on?
He made his way upstairs where familiar faces greeted the family, wishing 'the twins' jubilations on their birthday.
Sitting on the bed, Ned checked Jon over. "What's today's date, son?"
"Uh, 16th of January?"
Ned frowned. "No, Jon. It's the third of January. You're over a week off."
Well, it was Jon's birthday but how on Earth was it Robb's too?
"Let's get you booked for that scan, shall we?" He heard Tormund say. "You must have done yourself in, boy!"
After a long day of being scanned and having everything come back normal, the family returned back to the manor where Jon and Robb's wives and children waited with their siblings.
"You're better!" Sansa grinned, hugging him. "Mum and Dad called me and told me not to worry but you know how I get, I worry about everything."
Jon let out a lighthearted chuckle, his eyes falling on his 'wife'.
Ygritte looked like herself from their university days, before she became a model and changed her lifestyle.
She wasn't wearing the red lipstick he'd come to hate but a light shade of pink.
She looked like his Ygritte.
Her eyes found his own and she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing a soft kiss on his lips.
"You scared the shit out of me, Jonny..." She whispered, looking up at him through her lashes.
Jonny.
"Neddy and Rose have a gift for you," she said, standing back to let their children toddle over to him.
Neddy was his Neddy only a bit taller and older. He must have been two. And Rosamund... The little girl had hair kissed by fire and her big brown eyes stared up at him as she used his legs to help her stand up from her crawling position.
Neddy shoved a piece of paper in his hand which was full of colourful children's handprints.
"Wow," Jon said. "This is great! You are little artists!" He said, still in disbelief about what was going on.
Neddy and his sister grinned, the older one giggling as he understood more than the little one-year-old did.
"Right!" Robb said, clapping his hands. "Let's make the most of today because we've got work tomorrow."
The family spent the rest of the night celebrating the eldest two sons' thirtieth birthday.
All the while, Jon was thinking that this was most certainly not his life.
I must be dreaming. I must have bumped my head and knocked myself out. This isn't real. They're dead. It's just me, Sansa, Arya and Bran. Edward is my only child. Daenerys Targaryen is my fiancée. Ygritte and I are co-parenting. Robb and Rickon are... they are dead. Catelyn and Dad... they are dead.
"I think you should stay with the family," Ned told him as Robb was getting ready to leave with his twins and wife.
Jon turned to his dad. He took the time to study him. He looked like the father he knew the time he last saw him before he died. Before he and Sansa were made to identify their parents and brothers' bodies. His father's hair and stubble were a little more greyed and he now wore glasses more regularly.
His body out of his control, Jon hugged his father tightly, breathing in his scent.
"Ah, Jon!" Ned laughed. "I just asked you to stay, not if you wanted to go on holiday, boy!"
Ned didn't understand. Neither did Robb.
"We'll stay," said Jon. "I guess I just miss you all, that's all."
"Good," Catelyn said, kissing his forehead with a bright smile. "I'll sort out your room and one for the kids."
Catelyn headed upstairs with Ygritte and the children whom Ygritte had referred to their daughter as Rosamund Yvonne Ó Brádaigh-Stark sternly when she refused to go upstairs. The child had wanted to stay with her father and grandfather but was easily persuaded by her mother's tone.
Ned gestured to Jon that they should head outside and he and Jon saw to Robb leaving as the redhead got into his car.
"See you both tomorrow," he told them. "What do you say to Uncle Jon and Grandpa, kids?" Robb asked, looking back at his three-year-old children.
Bryn and Lyn happily said goodnight to the adults before Robb and Talisa gave them smiles with the former adding an affirmative nod, starting the car and heading out of the estate.
"Let's get you to bed. I can observe you easily like this to make sure you don't still have a concussion tomorrow." Ned smiled at Jon.
Jon followed, his younger siblings beaming up at him as he walked by. He returned the smile, his heart swelling at the vision of Bran walking and Rickon slightly older and definitely as tall as him.
It brought tears to his eyes but he didn't let them see it. He wanted to enjoy whatever time he had with his lost ones no matter how strange it felt being in this alternate sort of world.
The next day, Jon was put on a short shift from 8 AM to 2 PM.
"Just want to make sure that we don't overwork you," his father had told him when he woke him up that morning.
Jon was confused. He was meant to be in the real world. This fantasy was still going on. What was he supposed to do to return home?
Ned led his sons to a patient, giving the woman a bright smile as he read through her notes.
"I am Mr Stark and these are Dr Stark and Dr Ó Brádaigh-Stark," Ned introduced them.
Jon frowned. Ó Brádaigh-what now?
He saw Robb smirk to himself from the corner of his eye, the man leaning closer to him.
"Even you admit that you and Ygritte hyphenating your surnames was a bit too much. It's too long," his brother whispered to him with an amused smile.
The patient swooned. "Ah, are you related?" She asked. "You sure do look like you are!"
Ned nodded. "My twin sons. To help you differentiate us, I'm going by 'Mr' and you can just call the redhead, Robb and my lookalike, Jon. You can tell they're fraternal." He chuckled with the patient.
In his reality, before they died, they had never worked together to reduce confusion although people still got his father and Robb mixed up since they were both Dr Stark. Their colleagues had just joked that they should either refer to the 'ginger' or the 'the older one'. That had gone down well with the patients who revelled in teasing the father and son. But Jon worked with either of them sometimes since he went by 'Dr Snow'.
After treating the woman and a few by himself, Jon checked the time to see that he was now done with work.
As he stepped out of the hospital, he saw Sansa waiting for him as she leant against her Tesla.
"Come on! I need you to get something from Joffrey's place for me again. Because he's being a dick again!" She sighed in exasperation, getting in.
Jon got in after realising that their dad was his lift and decided he might as well help her in return for a lift home to the estate.
When they got to Joffrey's house, Jon noticed that it was a mansion.
So, the Baratheons must still have money in this reality as well.
"His uncle isn't in, I checked and double-checked because you know, he's short," said Sansa. "Go on!"
"What am I supposed to retrieve for you?" Jon asked curiously.
Sansa blushed. "My hair straightener. I know it's stupid but it's very expensive and the best one I have!" She pouted, looking up at him, "Please! All my friends will make fun of me if they see a hair out of place tomorrow at the mock trial."
"Mock trial?"
"God, Jon!" Sansa grunted out. "I keep telling-" She sighed. "I guess you did bump your head. You are all going to be there for my practical Law assignment. The mock trial."
"You're studying Law?" Jon breathed out.
His sister nodded. "Of course! I'm following after Mum's footsteps just as you and Robb followed after Dad's! Even Arya's doing well at Med school." She grinned.
Jon smiled, shock in his eyes though. He got out of the car to go and retrieve this beloved hair straightener for her. The things he'd do for his siblings.
After getting it back with ease as it seemed that Joffrey was scared of him in this reality as well, the siblings headed back to the manor.
Sansa began to slow down as they reached the Boltons' home, Jon's body immediately tensing up when he saw Ramsay wave at them.
Sansa pulled up in front of him and grinned. "Hey, how are you?" She asked, giving him a hug through the window.
Ramsay grinned. "Oh, I don't know... I'm engaged!" He announced, waving his hand in front of Sansa's face as she squealed in happiness.
"Oh my God!" Sansa said. "Theon finally popped the question?"
Jon's eyes bulged. "What the fuck?!" He heard himself say.
Ramsay and Sansa turned to him, confusion on their faces.
"Why are you so surprised? Robb told you that Theon was going to pop the question." Sansa frowned.
Jon shook his head. "H-He didn't."
"Well," Ramsay started. "I guess it's news for you too." He withdrew his hand. "We're excited. I know my father's going to freak out when he finds out though. He had a woman lined up for me but Theon's my one and only. We're going to elope if you want to come with!"
Sansa nodded eagerly. "Text me, I'm so down bestie!"
They hugged again and Sansa continued their journey home.
"I thought Robb told you! Come on, it was obvious anyway if he didn't. They're so in love! Their pet names are so cute as well but I can't tell you because you'd think they're weird." Sansa sighed wistfully.
Jon looked out the window.
No, this couldn't be. He needed to get back home.
"I need to go home." He began to panic slightly.
"That's where we're going," his sister replied obliviously.
Jon shook his head. "No, I need to go home. This isn't my home."
Sansa laughed. "Of course, silly! You and Ygritte obviously have your own place with the kids. Don't you remember why Mum and Dad want you to stay? You must be really out of it as Robb said..."
When they got inside the manor, they saw Bran kissing Meera, running his fingers through her hair.
Arya stuck a tongue out at them and continued to study her books as Rickon went about the manor practising his Karate moves and almost knocking over a vase.
"Rickon Finlay Stark!" Catelyn scolded from the other room gaining a slight blush from the teenager.
Heading to the kitchen, Jon spotted Robb talking with their wives.
"Ah, there's my husband!" Ygritte beamed, kissing him softly.
"'Ah, there's my husband!'" Robb mocked her, his Irishness coming through.
Talisa let out a soft giggle. "Ah, that's my little Irishman!" She teased him.
Jon just observed as his brother got along with their wives, teasing each other for their accents or lack thereof.
Even though they were half-Irish, their Britishness shone through strongly but Robb had surprisingly donned a strong Irish accent out of all the children which seldom made ladies and patients swoon alike.
"I don't like that you don't sound Irish," said Ygritte.
Jon looked at her. "What?"
She grinned up at him. "It doesn't matter. I'll send the kids up there to get the accent. They are three-quarters Irish, should work easily!"
"Hey, don't make fun of my brother's lack of Irishness!" Robb said in a strong accent. "It's not his fault he isn't kissed by fire like us. Although..., Uncle Edmure's brown haired and his accent is strong. Hey, why didn't you get Ma's accent?"
Jon looked baffled. "Uh, because we were raised here and not there?"
"Ah," said Robb in his normal accent. "Guess it comes easier for me. Come, let's take a walk."
Ygritte winked at him flirtatiously and he remembered referring her to something which used to make her laugh with joy.
He found the words leaving his lips before he could stop himself, "Be right back, Wildling."
Her eyes widened in shock. "It's been ages since you called me that," she whispered with a small smile. "Maybe that knock to your head was good after all." She blushed furiously, Talisa sending her a suggestive wink.
Meanwhile, Robb headed towards the doors, waiting for Jon.
Jon took his time to observe his sister-in-law, wife and their kids who he noticed were playing with their Grandma Catelyn.
Catelyn looked up at him and beamed, kissing her fingers and blowing it his way.
His heart jumped and he responded with a soft smile. A mother's love.
His eyes then landed on the rest of his siblings. Alive. Happy. Well. Successful. Hardworking.
They too glanced at him and gave him smiles. Rickon even gave him a short hug which Jon cherished his scent and touch before the young man headed towards his nieces and nephews to play blocks with them.
He looked away, finally following Robb outside. He let the redhead lead the way and he noticed that they were going in the direction of the family gravesite.
They stopped in front of a recent grave.
{Here Lies Robert Richard Stark. 1989-2016. Loving Son, Brother, Husband, Father & Friend.}
Jon's breath hitched in his throat.
"Shall we do some cloud gazing?" Robb asked nonchalantly.
Tears began to slip down Jon's cheeks as he complied. His brother laid down on top of his grave with Jon beside him.
The ground was freezing cold with the thick blanket of snow under them.
"I wanted to give you a bit of happiness. I'm afraid that I may have made things worse," said Robb.
Jon turned to face him. "You could never make things worse. You did make me happier."
Robb smiled. "You need to let me go, Jon. You're hurting and in turn, it hurts our little siblings. Mum, Dad, Rickon and I... We're all gone. You need to find it in your heart to let go of us. Not forget, just accept."
"No..." Jon whispered, sobs escaping his lips. "I can't let you go. You're my brother, the only one who's... who's ever understood me." He trailed off. "Please, don't make me."
Robb sighed, shuffling closer to Jon to rest their heads against each other. "You're the strongest man I know. If anyone's going to get through this, it is you. Let me go, Jon and you'll be set free of your burdens. It wouldn't hurt to smile more."
"Robb... I miss you every day. I do. I'm getting married, I have a kid... All the things you..."
"I did and never was? I didn't get a chance to be a dad but you are one now and you have to get through this for him." Robb sighed.
Jon nodded. "I..."
"Say, it. Say it, Jon." Robb urged.
Jon bit back a sob, closing his eyes. "I let you go. I set you free, Robb. Oh, fuck off, you bloody arsehole! I let you go!"
"Jon!"
...
Jon's eyes snapped open and he came face to face with Ygritte's worried ones.
"Jon," she breathed out, her hands tightly gripping his shoulders. "Jon, thank God..."
Jon shook his head, a sob escaping his lips as Ygritte brought his head to her chest, stroking his raven locks.
"Shh, I'm here." She cooed. "I'm here." She rocked him back and forth gently.
He gripped onto her sweater tightly and she glanced towards her grandparents, silently telling them to go.
"I'll check him over later," Kaven mumbled quietly as he left.
Margi was about to leave too but she left the First Aid kit on the bed and left a soft pat on his shoulder before leaving as well.
Ygritte didn't know what to do. He'd been out of it since he fell that morning and now at quarter past ten at night, she'd decided to wake him up when he began to yell out his dead brother's name.
It was a while until his tears subsided and he pulled away from her, embarrassment showing on his cheeks when he turned away.
"Sorry," he said, sniffling.
"Look at me," she told him, gently pulling his arm.
He slowly turned to her and noticed the slight bruise on her forehead. "What happened?" He asked, lifting his hand to brush over it lightly.
"You dropped and I did catch you like I promised but you ended up hitting your head on the way. Then your stupid, hard head hit my head and I was unconscious too. Only for a couple of minutes but we were so worried about you since you never woke up quickly; Grandad was about to call the hospital to send an ambulance even in this weather."
He nodded. "I had a dream."
"About Robb?" She asked.
He frowned, looking up at her. "H-How did you know?"
Ygritte placed a hand on his cheek. "You kept calling out that you were letting him go... You said other things but that was the main thing."
His eyes darkened. "I need to call my sisters and brother-"
"You need rest and food. My grandmother's made some soup, I'll get that for you. Lamb and potato, you love that," she said.
She noticed him staring off into the distance and she wondered what he was thinking, what he dreamt. It seemed like a nightmare by the looks of it because he woke up so broken.
This short holiday was meant to make him feel better, not get worse.
She tentatively ran her fingers through his raven locks and he turned to her, unshed tears in his eyes.
"What's Edward's middle name?" He asked. "I don't think I've ever bothered to ask."
Ygritte blushed. "It's Richard. After-"
"After Robb." Jon finished.
She nodded in confirmation. "After the man who made me realise that you were the one."
He had to ask. "If Edward had been a girl, what would you have named her?"
Ygritte paused. Her eyes searched his. What was he getting at?
"Rosamund Yvonne after my mother and myself," she whispered.
Jon nodded slowly. "Okay."
"What did you dream about? Tell me, Jon."
"What life would have been like if I wasn't a bastard, if I had a mother and if my family lived." He looked at her. "We were married and we had two kids - Neddy and Rose."
Ygritte gasped softly. "What sick joke was going through your mind?"
"It was Robb's way of getting me to set them free. To stop blaming myself for not being there... He wouldn't have known that we ended things back then." Jon explained.
She looked hurt and upset. Withdrawing her hand, she got up and gestured to the First Aid kit.
"I'll call my grandad to check you over. Let me get you that-"
"Stay with me," Jon said. "Just for a little while."
Ygritte's mind and body were saying 'no' but her heart said 'yes'. She listened to her heart and laid down on top of the duvet as he remained under it, lying side by side.
She turned to look at him on her side. "How did you propose to Blondie?"
"Over dinner at the estate. Just before we went clubbing for Arya's birthday," replied Jon. "With my aunt's ring."
"Beautiful. I wonder if it was candlelit."
Jon chuckled softly. "Yeah. It was."
"I wonder what your kids would look like," she smiled. "Blonde or raven-haired? Our Neddy's just in between us... Hey, he'd be like you. Maybe you and Blondie will have five kids and Neddy would be the sullen half-brother who sulks around and hits on ginger haired girls who fall out of trees."
Jon began to laugh, stopping to wince in pain. "Shit, this headache..."
"Maybe I'd be indisposed and he'll live with you for the rest of his young years."
Jon frowned. "Don't say that - he'll be looked after by you as well and he'll live with you. I want him to know us both and not be raised how we were."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I wasn't meant to be a mother... My mum died when I was so young and I was so mad and wild for a long time. Having Edward, he saved my life."
"I had no mum. I... I want to find her though. I know her name but I don't know where she is."
"I'll help ya. I have some contacts who might help. Whatever you need," she replied.
Her breath hitched in her throat when he wiped her tears away, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Thanks, Ygritte."
"Anytime, Jonny."
They smiled at each other and she finally got up to get him some food.
"Hey," he called out just before she left out of the door.
She stopped. "Yeah?"
"No matter what, you'll always be a wildling to me," he told her softly.
She closed her eyes and let out a small smirk. "Fuck off, Jonny," she replied tenderly.
Jonny laughed as she left, realising that he was smiling.
"It wouldn't hurt to smile more." Robb's words rang in his ears.
"No, it wouldn't... Why are you always right, you arsehole?" Jon smiled to himself.
Deciding not to inconvenience the elderly couple any more than he was doing already, Jon got dressed and made his way downstairs.
He blushed when their eyes settled on him.
"You should be resting," Margi said, standing up to meet him.
"Might as well check you over." Kaven joined them. "If you'd come to my study, I have-"
"I'm fine," Jon said softly. "I want to thank you guys for looking after me."
Margi gave him a sad smile. "It's must be so hard to carry such a weight on your shoulders after all this time. I'm guessing that Robb was your brother? The Tullys spoke fondly of Catelyn and the grandsons who died. Even your father."
Jon squeezed her hand in reply, his eyes meeting Ygritte's. "Ygritte tells me you made lamb and potato soup."
"She did!" Kaven grinned, heading over to the stove. "I'll get you a bowl, sit down."
"I also made some lemon tarts," said Margi excitedly. "Ygritte hates them but I'm sure you'd like them! Edward seemed to earlier on."
"My sister loves lemon tarts," said Jon as he joined Ygritte and Margi at the table. "She'd eat twenty every day when she was little. Before she became concerned about the carbs and calories."
Margi's eyes sparkled. "Maybe I will prepare more for her before you leave. Remind me - my old head is not as it used to be."
They shared a smile and enjoyed the soup, laughing at stories of Ygritte as a child and stories from when Kaven worked as a doctor in his earlier years.
Jon felt like home.
He smiled more and he wanted to let his sisters know that there was a light within the darkness and they were finding it.
"Look at the time!" Margi gasped. "Nearly another day!"
Jon noticed the time too and internally groaned to himself. "I have to call my sister, check up on them."
Watching the elderly couple clear away their plates and Ygritte heading upstairs, Jon remained at the table and called Sansa as he assumed that Arya would be asleep and Sansa always stayed up.
"Hey, Jon. How is it there?" Sansa asked.
"Yeah, it's good. I'm sorry I didn't call, I've been busy... Uh, I'll explain when I get home but how are things there?"
Sansa smiled to herself. "Great. You'll see when you get back. Howland's gone for a business trip so I'm looking after Jojen and Meera too. Not much is going on other than that. My studies are going well, I guess and so are Bran and Arya's. Bran is already pushing himself even more and he's doing Advanced Maths with his tutor."
Jon sighed in relief. "Good, good."
"How's Neddy? Does he miss his aunts and uncle already?"
He chuckled. "Yeah, he is. But he's having too much fun with Margi, Kaven and the Tullys," he said, gaining a bright smile from Margi.
"That's good. I better go, it's quite late," she said.
"Yeah, sorry about that. Just wanted to catch you at least before you went to bed. I know how late you sleep."
Sansa pouted. "It's not a bad thing!"
"No, no," he laughed. "Anyway, two more days now," he told her, noticing that it was one past twelve.
"See you in two days, Jon. Night," she said softly.
"Night, Sansa. Give my love to Arya and Bran. And the Reeds."
He hung up and turned to Kaven. The man looked at him expectantly, rubbing his beard slightly.
"Okay, check me over. I've noticed your concerned looks since I woke up." Jon playfully rolled his eyes.
Kaven grinned and they left to go to his study.
...
"My Lady," Mr Dondarrion caught Sansa's attention later that afternoon. "You have a guest."
Sansa frowned. "Who is it? Is it possible to ask them to leave? I've got some work to do."
Beric shook his head. "He's quite persistent."
It dawned on her. "Let him in," she sighed.
Beric nodded, bowed slightly and left the kitchen to retrieve the unexpected guest. It frustrated Sansa. Most people would call before they visited when her parents were still alive. It reduced any confusion of time conflicts.
"Sansa," she heard.
Sansa looked up and planted a tight smile on her face. "Uncle Petyr, what a pleasure to have you visit. Are you stopping by for a quick chat?"
Petyr walked closer to her, kissing her cheek in greeting. "I'm afraid that I will take a bit of your time, Sansa." He sat down at the counter island, Sansa begrudgingly taking a seat too.
"Unfortunately, I'm very busy. My studies are catching up to me."
"Of course," Petyr said. "You are slow but you always get there."
Her eyes snapped to his. She didn't have dyslexia per se but it did take a while for things to reach her understanding at times but she always got there in the end.
"Indeed," she said. "Why are you here exactly?"
His eyes twinkled. "So straight to the point. Like your father. Your mother liked to play... Anyway, I heard that Jon's Lord of Winterfell estate. How did that come by?"
Sansa narrowed her eyes. "Jon is a legitimate heir regardless of children during through marriage. He is the eldest grandson alive of Rickard Stark and he's adopted the family name formally. This is the twenty-first century."
"But wasn't this what you wanted?" Baelish asked, gesturing around them. "Catelyn always said should Robb die, Winterfell estate should be in Brandon's hands when he is of age. Until then, you were next in line of inheritance."
Sansa faltered. "My mother didn't have the estate to give. She was a Stark through marriage and not by blood. Her words bore no weight over my father's and my father made sure that the line of inheritance was true. Robb, Jon then me. And if it were sons only, it would still be Robb then Jon and Bran. We are all descendants of Rickard Stark by blood either way regardless of our parent by marriage or not."
Petyr stood up and walked over to the small wine rack, picking up an already opened bottle and took his time in pouring two glasses of wine.
He handed her one glass and took the other for himself, slowly sipping and swirling it in his mouth before he finally replied.
"Even still, it is an insult to your grandfather to have a bastard with his estate."
Sansa slowly looked at him, ready to pour the contents of her glass down his expensive shirt.
"My grandfather would have loved Jon. My grandfather knew that there was something special about any grandchild he would have, including Jon. My uncle, Benjen, he knew too. Now even my mother's side of the family, how funny? A bastard as you say is adored as much as a trueborn son." She smirked. "Get the fuck out of my brother's house. Tell Aunt Lysa to fuck off too."
She drowned the contents of her wine glass in the sink, not even surprised at the sight of a white powdery substance at the bottom of the glass.
"What was your plan? To drug me, convince me to turn against my brother who has done nothing but look after me since our parents died?" She asked him. "Guess what? Even my mother loved him in her own way. You guys make me sick, how you're all quick to judge him because of his parentage. It is not his fault our father cheated on my mother and allowed him to live here with us. If he wasn't living with us, we'd probably be wondering what the missing piece of the puzzle was for our whole lives. That's how much Jon Stark matters to us all."
"I loved your mother," said Petyr. "I knew her thoughts about him, about how she hated the lot of you getting along so easily with him. She wouldn't have changed her mind so quickly. She was a woman whose mind was set once and for all. She would be turning in her grave."
Sansa laughed bitterly. "You want to know how many fucking times I've heard that? You all never really knew her at all!"
"Why don't you marry me instead and you'll get the estate, hmm? Then when your little brother becomes of age, we can divorce or stay married if you'd like. I'm sure if you were to contest a claim, you'd be easily accepted as you would be married which would show that you're serious and stable."
"You're sick." She gritted out. "Beric!" She yelled out.
Beric entered swiftly, stopping to bow slightly at Sansa. "Yes, My Lady?"
Sansa's eyes met Baelish's. "Escort Master Baelish out of Jon's home, please."
Beric nodded. "Of course, My Lady. Do you wish for Lord Stark to know of today's events?"
She shrugged. "Do as you wish, it will make no difference because either way, he will be laughing in hysterics about how stupid my uncle by law's visit was. I even intend to tell him myself."
"Of course," said Beric. He placed a hand on Petyr's shoulder and began to lead him out.
"Thanks for taking the rubbish out!" She called out.
The nerve of that man! How dare he? First Lysa, then Roose and now Petyr. They all held grudges against the man who did nothing to them other than exist and breathe the same oxygen they did.
She knew that Jon didn't care for the word bastard, heck, he wore the word with pride! But every time someone called him that behind his back, it enraged her.
When they were younger, she didn't get along with him. She'd be honest. She also used the word against him at times and she'd see all the light, which Robb had been trying so hard to instil, drain out of his eyes. She was young, stupid and easily led, thinking her mother's words were right before.
It made her think of the word people used against her. The word whore. It still stung and she felt like crying and screaming and raging, destroying everything in her rage but then she'd remember Jon. Jon who was actually a bastard but didn't give a fuck about it. She wasn't a whore but the word hurt because she believed it was true when it came to the things that happened to her.
She felt disgusted for being herself.
She wished Jon was here to reaffirm things, stop her thinking about what other people said and thought of her.
Her mind drifted to Loras and she suddenly felt guilty.
From Loras Tyrell:
It's been a few days now. Just wanted to check on you, sorry if I hurt you. Reply if you want, no pressure.
The text message stared at her, burning into her mind. It had been received since the early hours of the morning but she had been too tired to care and went to bed.
To Loras Tyrell:
I'm so sorry about Sunday. Can we meet up tomorrow at the café you saw my sister and me in? I'll be there at half 2 in the afternoon. There's something I have to tell you.
She pressed 'send' before she could change her mind and was surprised to get a quick reply.
From Loras Tyrell:
No problem. See you then.
Five words. Just five words. That was all she was meant to him, right?
"Fuck my life..." She mumbled under her breath.
She got a new text but this time from Jon.
From Jon (Brother):
I think I'd like to find my mother. I'll talk to you soon about it but maybe this is exactly what I need to continue healing. Talk soon, all the love to you all. Jon.
Her lips pursed and she nodded to herself. Well, she'll be there for him like he was always there for her.