"Don't... don't say that," Ygritte whispered. "We were never meant to be. What we had is gone, Jon."
"I know that but I can't help but still feel those feelings for you. Especially with the dream, you helping us when Arya ran away, helping Sansa with her dream to be a model, Edward and Ireland... You're so different yet still the same." Jon sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I know it's mad."
Ygritte backed away, opening the door. "I'm not your Ashara. I'm not your mother who nearly destroyed a marriage."
She knew what she said hurt him, she could see the pain increase in his eyes as he reverted them to their son who was fast asleep.
"You love Daenerys. She's the perfect woman for you. I was but we're different people now," she told him. "Break the cycle. Do better."
She left, wiping tears from her cheeks as she swiftly descended the stairs, bumping into Benjen.
"Ygritte, was it?" He asked. "Why the tears?"
Ygritte gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. You should check on your nephew."
She headed towards the front door and watched Benjen continue his journey upstairs. Taking a deep breath in and out, she finally left.
Upstairs, Jon stroked Edward's cheek, smiling when the child shifted a bit, letting out a small whimper.
"Shh," he said softly.
There was a knock on the door and Benjen entered without bothering to be called in to enter.
"Listen, I didn't mean to-"
"You're good," Jon cut him off. "I needed to know."
Benjen sighed, heading over to stand beside him. "The little guy looks exactly like you were as a baby. Ned's reincarnation."
"Yeah," replied Jon, allowing a ghost of a smile to play on his lips.
"I can look for her if you want. It can't be hard to find someone who has been in the army, right? She might even be a bloody nun for all we know!"
Jon shook his head. "From what you told me today, I want to leave the past in the past. Leave the skeletons in the closet be."
"Are you sure? I might have a lead on her," said Benjen.
Jon turned to him, shock on his features. "Were you intending to lie about her if I asked? Why did you tell me about her if you were intending to play dumb first? Now, you say you know when you told me you don't know-"
"I didn't want you to get hurt but I guess telling you would help. This is almost three decades of lies and secrets, Jon. They weren't mine to tell," Benjen replied. "But if there's no one to tell you, I might as well save you the pain."
"Everyone who knows either hates me or is dead."
Benjen had to admit, that was partly true. "I love you, mate."
"You're my uncle, you're obliged to."
"I would have still told you. Look," he dug into his trouser pocket and handed Jon a contact card.
"'Lemore Snow'." Jon read out. "Is this her?"
Benjen shrugged. "Might be, might not be. I searched every 'Snow' then cross-referenced with an old nickname Ashara used to get into nightclubs and the like. I may be a renowned hippy but I do know my way around computers."
"Did my father know about this?" Jon asked, lifting up the card.
"No," Benjen replied. "Your father did want to tell you about her even though he believed she was dead but he also didn't want to hurt Catelyn or your siblings in the process. Look at you, even though you were brought up by one parent, you still made it."
"We should go to bed. I've got work tomorrow."
Benjen gave him a comforting smile before he took his leave, closing the door behind him.
Curious, Jon retrieved his phone and dialled the number on the card. He knew it was really late, he'd get no answer but he wanted to try something at least.
He held his breath when the call tone began to ring.
Then, it picked up.
"Hello?" A soft melodic voice called out.
Jon let out the breath that he was holding and his hand began to shake.
"Is-Is this..." He couldn't get the words out.
"Who is this?" The voice asked softly.
"Is this Ashara Dayne?"
The phone call abruptly ended.
Jon stared at his phone in shock but his attention soon went to Edward who had woken up, fear in his eyes.
"Hey, Little Man," Jon cooed, picking him up with one arm. "Did you have a little nightmare?"
Neddy whimpered, leaning his head in the crook of Jon's neck. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and babbled slightly to his father as if he was explaining what he'd dreamt about.
"Dada..." Neddy whined when he was finished.
Jon sighed. He had work in the morning and he needed to get as much sleep as he could.
"Do you want to sleep in Auntie Sansa's room tonight?" Jon asked the child.
The child nodded, not really understanding what was being asked of him but Jon took that as an answer and left his room, Neddy in his arms.
He knocked on Sansa's door and she quickly answered it.
"Are you okay?" She asked him.
Jon shrugged. "Hey, I've got work in the morning. Forgot to tell you guys but I found out before we left Ireland. Can you let Neddy stay with you?"
Sansa happily obliged, taking her nephew into her arms. "Of course," she said. "I'll settle him down quickly."
"He had a nightmare I think."
"I've got it, don't worry," she assured her brother. "If you want to talk... I'm here, Jon."
Jon gave her a small smile and was about to turn around when his phone rang.
He answered it and Sansa stood beside him, curious about why someone was calling so late.
"Hello, Jon speaking," said Jon.
"Who are you and how the hell do you know my name?"
Jon's eyes met Sansa's as hers widened.
"I'm Jonathan Sno-Stark," Jon said. "Jon Stark, formerly known as Jon Snow."
The woman gasped on the other line. "J-Jon? N-Ned's son, Jon?" She whispered. "My... my baby, Jon?" Her voice broke.
"Mu-" Jon stopped himself. "Ashara?"
"Oh, my Gods... I-I... How did you find me?"
"You didn't want me to find you?" Jon frowned. "Well, it has been nearly thirty years," he stated bitterly.
Ashara gasped. "I never meant to... I knew Ned would care for you and love you-"
"I didn't want to find you. I stopped looking ten years ago and accepted the fact that I was never meant to have a mother but I've recently lost my dad and become a dad and I just had to know so I could get closure on this. I never should have called-"
"Wait! Don't hang up!" Ashara begged.
Sansa gave her brother a pleading look as she gently rocked Neddy to sleep.
"Listen to her," she mouthed to him.
Jon sighed. "Fine."
"I loved you, Jon. I still do. I promise you that but I was mentally unstable when you were born. I'd just been in the army, I'd seen some stuff no one should ever see and I came home to see that your father had moved on. When he came to me that night... I allowed myself for one last day with him. I should have said 'no' but I loved him," Ashara explained. "I really did and I loved you too but I couldn't bring you up. You were better off with Ned and Catelyn. I trusted them. I returned to the army after I was approved fit to and I went on to serve three more tours before coming back and visiting you when you were seven. There were days when I'd come over, ready to knock on the door but I always got scared Catelyn would stop me from seeing you since I did abandon you."
"Catelyn never cared for me..."
"I wasn't to know that, love. I thought since she loved your dad, she'd accept you. I didn't want to hurt them more than I did already..."
Jon rubbed his face, he was seriously tired right now and something told him that he and Ashara weren't done with their conversation.
"This Sunday, can you come at 1 PM?"
Ashara sighed in relief. "Of course."
"The estate, I'll tell the staff to let you in."
"Jon..."
"I have to go."
He hung up and raised a finger to stop Sansa from what she was about to say.
She nodded sadly and turned back into her room with her nephew in her arms, shutting the door behind them.
Jon went back to his own room and undressed, leaving his boxer shorts on and finally getting into bed.
He was relieved to sleep straight away, letting himself be pulled into a dreamless slumber.
...
Arya was stunned. Her mentor had a wide smile on his face and she simply stared back.
"Mr Forel, I-"
"You have potential, Arya. Serious potential to become something great. Fencing is a form of art, one you've almost mastered. Join me in Braavos as soon as you finish school to be properly trained for the Olympics." Syrio beamed.
He circled her, using his foil fencing sword to attack her torso lightly. He was acting like a predator weakening its prey.
"I can't leave my family," said Arya firmly. "We're stronger together."
Syrio stopped and sighed heavily. "You'll be suited better to train in Braavos along with the greats and the highly skilled. You can't fare well here with all the distractions."
Arya set her jaw and leapt at him, using Needle to touch his torso. She attacked him in various points, now circling him.
"Perhaps using your sabre will withdraw you from this skinny sword," he suggested.
"Jon gave it to me," she whispered.
"You need a new one. You've outgrown this." Forel tutted, taking the sword into his hands to inspect it. "You'll need a new set for the tryouts and Games."
Arya relented, taking her sword and placing it back into its bag before taking her heavier sword. She glanced warily at the sword that did her justice over the years.
"I'll ask Jon to buy me a new set."
"You'll need it when you come to Braavos in July."
She returned to her starting position, using the sabre with slight difficulty.
"Name it," Syrio told her as he easily overpowered her, matching her blow for blow and block for block.
Arya stumbled, frowning as she tried to get the upper hand. "Pointe."
"Pointe?" Syrio asked, baffled. This didn't stop him from beating her.
"Needle, Pointe. They're a family," she smirked. "Oh, and my épée is called Sharpe."
"You're a weird young woman, Arya Stark of Winterfell," smiled Fyrio.
Arya finally bested him, knocking him over with her foot when she was done. He lost his footing and she walked off to her bag smirking to herself.
"Fencers are not arrogant nor do they trip over their opponent after being bested multiple times, Arya." He tutted.
"Oh, I didn't trip anyone for being bested by them. I am a good sportswoman. I tripped you for calling me weird Mr Forel."
Syrio bellowed. "Just go home, Arya. Tell your brother our plans."
She took off her suit and packed it away before putting her jacket on and leaving with her things.
Instead of going home, she let herself into Gendry's family home, winking at his majordomo before making her way upstairs towards Gendry's room.
Just as she met it, she was stopped.
"Arya Stark," a smug voice called out. "How's Sansa?"
Arya turned around. "She's well, Mrs Baratheon. Long time, no see," she replied.
Cersei shrugged nonchalantly. "Indeed. You were barely even a teenager when I saw you last. Now, you're with my stepson. Does your brother, Lord Stark approve?"
"He has no reason to deny him from dating me," said Arya. "What's wrong with Gendry?"
"I know of the girls he sleeps with. You're different. You actually have brains in that head of yours. Models sleep with models, it's no secret. I believe your sister dabbles in between guys as well."
Arya simply blinked, letting a small smile grace her face before she said, "Yeah, sure."
She let herself into Gendry's room and found him packing.
"Why are you packing?" She asked him.
"I'm done with this family. Honestly," said Gendry. He looked fed up and he hurried, disregarding clothes which fell on the ground. Glaring at the door, he clenched and unclenched his fists.
Arya sat on his bed, staring up at him with her grey eyes. "What happened?"
Gendry's gaze broke and his eyes met her own where she could see unshed tears in them.
"Joffrey broke my mother's locket."
Arya gasped softly. "Oh, Gendry... I'm so sorry," she told him, standing up to hug him tightly.
"That bitch did nothing but walked away. Tommen tried to fix it and Myrcella tried giving me hers from our dad's father but... it's not the same." Gendry sighed. "My mum, she wasn't wealthy or a lady or anyone important. She was a girl my dad met in a pub one day and got her pregnant. She dumped me on his doorstep with the locket. Shortly after, she died of an overdose."
Arya's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "My brother Jon was-"
"Dumped on your father's doorstep too? Welcome to the club!" He said bitterly.
She swallowed deeply, letting him go. "I know how it feels. The locket, I mean." She looked away. "Before my dad died, he gave me a special bracelet. It was my Aunt Lyanna's. I lost it and never had the heart to tell him until recently," she pulled her sleeve up to reveal a silver band around her wrist. "We returned home and I found it under my bed after the first time we..." She blushed.
"Why don't we find a place of our own, eh?" He asked her.
She shook her head. "I have plans Gendry. Nothing set in stone but plans nonetheless. I might go to Braavos to train with the greats. I'm planning on living there and starting a new life. But I don't know about that... A pack should always stay together."
Gendry sniffled. "I can follow you. I can quit my job; we did it before. I'll be the garage mechanic-"
"Gendry, you need to live your own life," Arya said softly, tears pricking the sides of her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"You can't always follow me chasing my dreams. You need to think about yourself. Getting out of this place would help for starters," she sighed. "I love you but maybe some things are best doing alone."
Gendry shook his head in disbelief. "But we're forever, Princess..." He whispered. "When we ran away to Braavos, we were committed to each other. I'll go around the world and back to get to you-"
"And that's the thing, Gendry. I'm not good with commitment. I rarely even tell you how much I love you because sometimes I don't think I mean it!" Arya cried out. "You've been all I've known for two beautiful years... You're somebody, I'm no one. It's time for me to be someone by myself and not because my brother's a lord or my sister's a model or who my parents were when they were alive or even who my boyfriend is... I want to make a name for myself."
Gendry finally nodded, continuing to pack his things. "I'll send you the address of my new place. That is if you change your mind." His voice was cold.
She took this as a sign, wondering how things had escalated, and left. She got into the car driven by Beric and glanced out the window as it drove off.
Fuck my life, she thought.
...
Bran took a few hesitant steps towards Osha who beamed with pride. She clapped when he reached her, using the sidebar for support.
"You're lucky this bloody mansion came with a ballet gym," she said lightly.
"Not a mansion. Manor," he corrected her.
Osha gave him an amused look. "Oh, m'lord! Excuse my lowborn descriptions."
Bran smirked at her and sighed in relief when his bottom touched the seat of his wheelchair.
"Don't tell them yet," he told her. "I want to be stronger."
"Your brother's planning to send you to the States," Osha sighed. "You have to tell him sometime so he doesn't waste money on a plane flight with a million side help and bodyguards."
Bran nodded. He knew of the experimental testing in America which his close friend - maybe, possibly girlfriend - had told his brother about. She had seemed adamant that they'd use his mother's money to fund the expenses, even giving her counsel and input from her studies in Neuroscience. Funnily enough, she wanted to be a doctor too and something told him that Jon would approve of a marriage union should one arise.
He'd been keeping this secret for a short while, wanting to prove to himself that he wasn't damaged any longer.
"I'll tell him, I don't want it. He won't argue," he said, feeling breathless. He was better with his wordings and sentences but sometimes he felt tired even speaking. It pained him because he wanted to say so much more but he wasn't able to at times which made him frustrated that people wouldn't get to hear his unspoken words.
Osha gave him a smile, patting his cheek gently before chuckling when Ghost stalked in, wrapping his frame around Bran in the wheelchair.
He sighed softly when the young Stark's fingers stroked his fur, almost falling asleep out of sheer comfort or pain.
"Let's get something down your stomach before your tutor arrives. You'll end at seven today."
"Why?" Bran asked, almost whining.
Osha gave him a stern look. "You're doing better, you can last longer. Lord Stark just wants you to get better."
Bran pulled a face. Osha had taken to calling Jon by his formal title out of respect and seldom referred to his siblings as such. It had been a major culture shock attending to Bran in a large estate worth more than she could ever dream.
She did call Bran as such but teased him by calling him "m'lord" or 'Lord Brandon' if she was telling him off for something or another which was very rare.
"Fine," he finally said. "I want steak though," he added.
Osha let out a loud laugh, almost startling Ghost as she ruffled Bran's hair.
"'Course, Bran. I'll get the chef to do it exactly how you like."
...
After the last photoshoot was done, Sansa sighed in relief and got dressed in leggings and a loose top, putting her hair in a messy bun as she slipped sunglasses on her face.
"Done?" She heard as she put her thick Winter coat on.
"Yeah," she told Ygritte. "Can you drop me off?"
Ygritte nodded and left the club with Sansa hot on her tails. She moved quickly, something Sansa noted, and she didn't stop until she got into the car and put her seatbelt on.
"Someone's in a rush!" Sansa breathed out.
"How much did you make today?"
"Under seven grand, I believe. Robert's overpaying me-"
"He does that." Ygritte sighed. "So,"
Sansa frowned. "'So' what?"
"When do you think you'll start putting that money into your new fashion line?"
The younger woman blushed. "I don't know. I've spoken about it with Jon but nothing is set in stone."
"I'll happily model for you."
Sansa grinned and she settled into her seat, taking her glasses off and putting them in her bag.
"I'm thinking of a wide range. I want to do everything. From swimwear to wedding wear."
Ygritte briefly glanced her way and started up the car. She began driving toward the estate.
"You were cold to Jon when you picked Neddy up this morning," Sansa said.
"I don't understand him sometimes. He's hot and he's cold towards me. I'm done," Ygritte mumbled. "But then he says, now get this, he says it's because he loves me too."
Sansa gasped. "What? But I thought... What about Daenerys?"
"He loves her, don't get him wrong. He also loves me too. He wants me to be the fucking Ashara to his Ned. I'm not his mother and I'm sure Daenerys isn't yours."
Sansa studied Ygritte's face, seeing the pain, anguish and frustration written all over it.
"There was a reason I didn't meet you guys before. We were serious but we were frightened because of Robb mostly. How quickly he fell in love and had everything mapped out. Jon and I were messed up after Robb got married. We used to be fine."
"Really?"
Ygritte nodded. "Yeah. Jon never wanted commitment after the situation regarding him, your dad and his mum. Fair enough but we argued a lot because he was willing to tell me he loved me all those times yet there was never a ring to show it. Robb would have had a ring out before we even met."
"That's true," said Sansa.
"Now he's with Daenerys and next thing I know, three or six months later, he's bloody engaged. What did I mean to the arsehole?" Ygritte ranted.
Sansa didn't know what to say. At the moment, she didn't even know where Jon's head was at.
Jon was an unreadable book and it sometimes shocked her how he read everyone else so easily as he was always closed off. His mother calling was actually the first time he'd let her fully in before he closed off again and stopped her from saying anything regarding the issue.
Her home came into view and she saw Arya storm inside, nearly shutting the door in Beric's face.
She shared a look with Ygritte before the older woman stopped the car and followed her inside.
"Arya?!" Sansa called out.
"Ah, Lady Sansa," greeted Beric. "Lady Arya is indisposed."
Sansa frowned. "Indisposed?"
"I fear she and the Baratheon boy have parted terms."
Sansa sighed softly and began making her way upstairs. "Make sure Ygritte is served with some food. Thank you, Beric."
She knocked on Arya's door and received a reply to enter. Entering, she saw Arya rummaging through her wardrobe, dumping clothes onto her bed.
"I'm going to donate some clothes to charity," her sister said. Her eyes were rimmed red with tears and she tried her hardest to keep herself in check.
"Good idea," replied Sansa.
"And once I've spoken to Jon, I'm going to be moving to Braavos permanently in July."
This made Sansa stop, her face falling. She began to think what would happen if they were separated. What if Arya tried to end her life again? That river was no joke and it made her have nightmares since.
"Syrio says I can train with the greats. I'll need a new set though," continued Arya. "I'll miss this place. But maybe this is what I need. Something to work towards."
"And Gendry?"
Arya let her tears fall. "As much as I'd love for him to follow me, I can't help but think that he won't be happy down the line. He'd regret following me chasing my dreams. He's always put me first, he needs to put himself first for once."
"Don't you love him? Us?" Sansa asked.
"I do. Trust me, I love you all dearly but I can't reach my full potential - my dream - without working hard to get there."
"Fine," Sansa finally said. "You deserve happiness-"
"So do you, Sansa. You will forget Ramsay and his words and his touch. Ramsay will disappear, his name will disappear, every memory of him will disappear. You will be able to move on and find that someone who will love you better than he did."
Sansa was stunned. A small but sad smile then grew on her face as she brought her sister in for a tight hug, kissing the top of her head.
"Make us proud, Arya."
"I will."
...
Dinner was awkward.
Jon remained silent throughout and Arya was too nervous to ask for anything - especially if she could move to Braavos.
Sansa wanted to ask him about Ygritte and where he stood with both her and Daenerys. Oh, and also his mother's visit tomorrow.
Bran wanted to know where he stood about being Lord of Winterfell. And to stop any impending payments to America.
Benjen just ate his food as if it was his last. It was one luxury he missed being born into a wealthy family. The chefs always got it right.
And Jojen and Meera simply minded their own business, eating their food and quietly talking amongst themselves. Osha also sat and ate, minding her business as usual. She wasn't getting paid to be involved in family matters.
"Jon."
Sansa, Bran and Arya all blushed when they realised they called him at the same time.
Great. Who went first?
Jon raised an eyebrow and looked at each of them before slowly sipping his red wine.
"Yes?" Jon finally said.
The three siblings looked at each other, silently asking who went first. Arya finally decided she would.
"I need a new fencing sword set."
Jon nodded. "Done. Next?"
"I'm moving to Braavos in July," she added.
Jon slowly turned to her. "What?" He asked.
Arya's hands began to shake as she slowly cut up her food. "Syrio says I have talent as you know. But in order to reach my full potential, I need to move to Braavos to train with the greats straight after I'm finished with school."
"Is that right?" Jon replied.
"Y-Yes," Arya said. "I'm dedicated and I can do this."
He gave her a soft approving smile and silently chuckled to himself, taking another sip from his wine.
"Yeah, okay. We'll go shopping soon and I'll find you a place there for you to stay," he told her.
"Oh, you don't have to," she beamed. "Syrio's invited me to stay with his family. His niece and nephew are fencers too and they're being trained by him too. Hopefully, I can qualify."
"I'm proud of you, Arya. Well done. I'll speak with Syrio to start making preparations," Jon said.
She sighed in relief and continued to eat her dinner, glancing at Bran to now speak his own piece.
"Bran?" Jon called out.
Bran looked up from his plate. "Yes?"
"Did you want to tell me something?" Jon asked softly.
Bran nodded. "I-I don't want to go. America, I mean."
His siblings turned to him as well as the Reeds. Meera frowned deeply.
"Why not?" Sansa asked him.
Osha gave him a pointed look. She began to mouth at him to come clean.
Jon slid his wheelchair away from the table and hesitantly stood up before taking staggered steps toward the table. He gripped the edge once he reached it.
Everyone sans Osha looked at him in shock and pride and wonder. Most of all pride.
"Bran," Jon breathed out. "Y-You can walk."
Bran nodded and smiled to Meera in thanks when she slipped his wheelchair to him for him to sit back down.
"Oh my God," beamed Sansa. "You're getting stronger and it's really showing!" She stood up and hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. "Well done, Bran!"
"Osha helped," blushed Bran.
His siblings gave Osha appreciative glances and smiles, making the nurse glance down. She wasn't used to high praise.
"Well, continue the hard work," said Jon. "Maybe we'd spend that money on a holiday instead, eh?"
Bran nodded eagerly. He had plans and as soon as he was more mobile than now, he'd see them through.
"Oh, I don't want to be the-"
"It's fine, Bran," mumbled Jon. "I've done some thinking. I will go through with everything this coming week."
His siblings visibly sighed in relief as well as his uncle and it made him almost laugh.
"Sansa, your turn," smirked Jon.
"I think you'd like me to tell you without an audience but there is one thing I can tell you."
"And it is...?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm starting my new fashion label. 'Alayne Stone' has a nice ring, doesn't it?"
Jon gave her a bright smile, one which could also be passed off as proud.
"I'll make some calls and find some advisers for you." He nodded at her. "Draw up a business plan."
Benjen finally placed his cutlery down having finished his food quickly. "Well, kids! That was fun!" He said. "Everyone's making good moves. Your parents would be proud."
"Shall we celebrate?" Arya asked. "I'm sure there's a good bottle of alcohol somewhere."
"Now, you're speaking my language, niece!" Benjen grinned.
...
Sunday came and Sansa had sent Arya, Bran, Jojen and Meera out for the day, paying for a film and a meal afterwards. Osha had tagged along as they officially hired her to help out with Bran and because they thought she deserved a break with Arya and Meera promising to wheel him around and help him.
Sansa wasn't sure of what to do with Benjen. The man had played with Ghost as well as walk him, walked around the estate alone, visited the family graveyard and spent his days either drinking alcohol or searching a new place to visit.
"You want me out of here like the others," he noted when he appeared by her side.
"If you don't mind." Sansa turned to him. "Jon's expecting-"
"His mother, I know," said Benjen. "I'd rather stay. I've got things to do in the library."
Sansa gratefully nodded at him, making sure everything was perfect and clean before allowing herself to rest.
Ashara was from a wealthy background who owned an estate as well. Would she judge them for their lack of daily maintenance?
Sansa smiled at her brother as he made his way down the stairs. He was dressed in a light blue button up with the two top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He also wore black dress slacks and loafers.
"That's fine, you look decent but not too formal. Just everyday comfortable which is the look you need." She patted his back, smoothing out any creases.
"What time is it?"
She didn't have to answer because a woman was being led in by Beric who gestured around the home at various rooms and areas.
"It's a pleasure to host your visit, Ms Dayne. It has been a while," said Beric.
The woman smiled at him. "It has, hasn't it Mr Dondarrion? I remember when Mr Luwin was the majordomo here," she sighed wistfully.
Her eyes looked around before settling on Jon and Sansa. She let out a soft gasp as her eyes widened.
Jon studied her, his breath seemingly leaving his body.
Her eyes were blue, almost purple and there wasn't a spark there which would have been existent if she'd been younger. Her hair was long, reached just before her behind, and dark brown. It was almost jet black. She had full lips which were stained a light pink with lipstick and her cheekbones were round like his.
Sansa also studied her. She took note of what the older woman was wearing. Ashara wore a pure white long-sleeved jumpsuit with white courts. She'd brought the outfit together with a nude trenchcoat and matching leather handbag which seemed to be branded.
She screamed 'wealth'.
So, she made it without the family who disowned her.
She was beautiful, Sansa could admit. Stunningly so and she felt a slight resentment towards the woman whom her father had cheated on her mother with.
Ashara finally spoke. "You look just like them. Ned and Catelyn." She sounded heartbroken.
Sansa blushed but she held out her hand and walked over to the older woman, shaking her hand.
"Sansa Stark," she said, introducing herself. "Jon's sister."
Ashara raised an eyebrow. She was surprised to hear that the younger female didn't refer to him being her half-brother but she didn't dwell on that.
"Lem-Ashara Dayne," Ashara whispered. She turned her head towards Jon and let a small smile grace her lips.
"You must be Jon," she said. "I know those eyes. They're mine."
Jon frowned. He had grey eyes, not blue. What was she on about?
"Well, not mine per se. My father's. He had the greyest eyes which could put anyone in a trance. My mother had the blues and my siblings and I inherited them. I'm glad I see my father's eyes in yours." She sighed softly. "You almost have no trace of Dayne in you but your hair, that's definitely from my side. Not the longevity of it - that's Ned's - but the colour."
She circled him, taking note of everything she could see of him.
Jon was flustered under her gaze, remembering that he'd not spoken one word since she arrived.
"Shall we talk in the drawing room with some drinks?" He asked.
Ashara halted and nodded. She gave her coat to Beric and followed the siblings into the guest drawing room before taking a seat opposite them.
She accepted the glass of white wine from Sansa, taking it with an appreciative smile.
"White's always been my colour," she told them lightly.
Her voice was melodic and Jon found himself perplexed. She was definitely different from Catelyn.
Ashara spoke with a highly sophisticated accent and she seemed quite a woman just as everyone had said of her.
"So, how did 'Lemore Snow' come to be?" Jon asked her.
Ashara smiled. "Straightforward. Like your father."
"I take after him in many ways," said Jon.
"Well, that's good," she whispered. "You wouldn't want much from my side."
"Why not?" Sansa cut in, receiving glances from mother and son. She didn't back off but simply raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Ashara smirked to herself, sipping her wine. Catelyn indeed. "I wasn't in a good state when you were born as I told you. I saw friends of mine die and I realised that I wasn't prepared to go through that. I had PTSS. Oh, and mental health issues run in my family."
"Sorry to hear that," Jon mumbled.
His mother gave him a sincere smile. "I came home on special leave. Came here to visit your father but I found him and Catelyn loved up, speaking to his parents about their honeymoon to France - Catelyn had never been out of the UK apparently. I immediately left without them knowing I came. Only Luwin knew as he opened the door for me."
She stood up and walked around, looking at the endless photos of individual family members and family photos. She could see over the years, Jon's position got closer to Catelyn's.
"Now, Lemore Snow - my new identity..." She trailed off, picking up a photo frame of Jon and his brother, Robb. "So, this is how their son turned out to look like. Handsome." She placed it down. "I got married to a guy I knew from my last three tours. We got each other."
Ashara returned to her seat and sipped her wine. She could see the siblings stare at her intently, hoping she'd hurry up and answer their questions. She knew they had many, especially her son.
"When we were teenagers, we'd use fake IDs to get into places. My fake name was 'Lemore'. It sounded mature and sexy. Like I was told that I was."
"And 'Snow'? My former surname?" Jon asked her.
"My middle name. I made it my surname after my family disowned me. I didn't want to be a Dayne anymore. Especially after my brother's death. I loved him so much."
She wiped a tear from her cheek and planted a smile on her face, sipping her wine.
"Tell me about you," she suddenly said. "I know you have a child." She smiled brightly. "I have step-grandchildren. My husband has a daughter from a past relationship and he and I adopted two kids. I have five grandchildren, including the step ones."
Jon felt a tightening in his stomach. She had made a new family for herself. Well, he did himself in a way.
"Are you married?"
"I have a son," he finally admitted. "Edward - Neddy after our father. I am getting married, not to his mother though."
Ashara's eyes twinkled with pride but they dulled when she realised that it wasn't her place to be proud of him. She lost the right to when she left him on the doorstep of this very place.
"Anyone for some cakes?" Sansa asked.
Jon gave her a small smile, knowing that it was just an excuse to give them a chance to get to know each other.
She quickly left, the sound of her high heels retreating.
Ashara looked out the window and smiled when she saw that it was snowing lightly. "A walk?" She offered.
Jon agreed and led her outside, closing the door behind them to keep the warmth in for the staff as opposed to the family.
They walked side by side and Jon was surprised to see that Ashara didn't complain about walking in her white courts especially in the snow.
"If I remember clearly, your family graveyard is...," she trailed off, walking ahead of him in the direction of the heavily fenced off area of the estate. She stopped just in front of the gates. "Here," she whispered. "Is he there?"
Nodding, Jon let them through and led her towards his father's grave where he was laid to rest beside Catelyn. Beside Catelyn's grave was Robb's then Rickon's and finally Talisa who had no family except the Starks.
"Oh my God... Catelyn died too?" Ashara asked.
"They were murdered," swallowed Jon deeply. "It still pains us a year and a half later. My brother Robb and his wife, Talisa died at the scene too. He crashed their car and Arya and Bran were able to get out before it..." He looked away, breathing heavily. "Rickon killed himself."
Ashara's blue eyes widened in shock horror and she slowly knelt by her former lover's grave, placing a hand on the gravestone.
"I'm so sorry... I've been living in Dorne these past long years. A good friend of mine... she died a long time ago and I moved back North only when I realised that holding onto the past was hurtful." She sighed. "My children, they've also moved on with their lives..." She looked to the side he stood out. "Sorry, I-"
"It's fine."
"Surely Catelyn...? She seemed like she had a good heart-"
"She did, near the end. We weren't close but she did accept me eventually. She wrote me letters, she cried over me, prayed for me. She couldn't find it in her heart to love me but she did care and at times, she showed her gratitude towards things I'd done for her."
Ashara's eyes prickled with tears. "I love you, Jon. But you were a reminder of your father and of the past that I had to forget in order to get well."
She shivered and she played it off, standing up to wipe her knees down. She began to walk away, heading toward the house.
Jon paused for a couple of minutes, sending a silent prayer up above before placing a hesitant hand on Catelyn's gravestone.
He needed guidance on what to do concerning Ashara. Also, Daenerys and Ygritte. He had to make wise decisions.
Finally, he followed Ashara back inside where she returned to drinking her wine. He noticed that Sansa was occupying herself with another guest.
"Lord Stark," Tyrion greeted him. "I'm Tyrion-"
"Lannister," Jon finished, shaking his hand. "Yes. I-I treated your brother," he said earning a raised eyebrow from his biological mother.
Tyrion gave Jon a firm nod. "He's doing well. So are his wife and child. Thank you," he said. "I've come to tell you of my gratitude as well as steal your sister for a couple of minutes."
Jon waved it off. "No worries. It was my job and you may take her time if she's willing."
Sansa gave both men a smile before leading Tyrion into the kitchen. Once again, avoiding being put between mother and son.
"What is it that you do?" Ashara asked him, curiosity and intrigue in her blue eyes.
"I'm a doctor."
"Like Ned," she stated.
He nodded. "Yes. I love it. Very fulfiling."
"My husband's family owns a few businesses so I've not needed to work in a while. Not that I think I could with the trauma and everything from being in the army," she said lightly.
"What about your other children?" Jon asked, almost spitefully. He didn't know why but maybe it was because he was brought up to know his siblings from his father's side but his mother had gone and got herself an entirely new one.
"None of them calls me 'mother'," she said, a pang of hurt rushing through her body. "I'm only my husband's daughter's stepmother. Our adopted children are our godchildren. My good friend, whom I referred to earlier? She and her husband died when their children were quite young. They were being looked after by her side of the family before they finally allowed my husband and I to adopt them when they were teenagers."
The jealousy left Jon's body. "I'm so sorry?" He said, unsure of what to say.
Ashara waved it off. "You didn't kill them and leave their son and daughter orphans," she said gently. "Anyway, my stepdaughter works for her grandfather's business and my adopted children are musicians. Take after their father, some famous singer from back in the day."
Her phone began to go off and she answered it before speaking to the person for a couple of minutes and hanging up.
"My husband wonders where I am. We're having dinner with his family today," said Ashara. "Perhaps you'd like to meet him? I tell him about you - he knows just as much about you as I do. Which is little."
Jon leant back in his seat and took a long gulp from his Scotch. "I'm good," he said.
Ashara was disappointed but she knew where he was coming from. He didn't want to know her in the first place in all honesty. She had expected to live her life without ever coming across her only biological child, face to face.
But seeing him. How successful he was. With a family no less. She felt terrible and hurt. Ashamed of herself from ever abandoning the man before her.
She finished her wine.
"Your siblings," she said. "Tell me about them."
Jon went on to tell her about his siblings. Pride, adoration, anguish laced in his tone as he even spoke of those brothers who died that day.
And Ashara listened intently.
In the kitchen, Sansa gently placed a hand on top of Tyrion's consoling him as he spoke of his brother's struggle and sister-in-law's pain.
"I want to do something for them. A party perhaps, for the little fighter inside Brienne," he told her.
"Maybe," said Sansa. "How are you holding up? Your father?"
Tyrion gave her a pointed look which made her chuckle.
"Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Well, everybody asks about my family members and not me. You're the first but then you had to ruin it by asking about my father."
Sansa blushed lightly and glanced away towards the direction of the living room. She wanted to know how Jon was doing and if he was bonding with his mother. It wouldn't be easy, she knew that. She also knew of the little resentment he held for the woman but she had to admit, the woman held herself up regardless of her personal issues.
In the living room, Ashara told Jon that she did try and commit suicide and that her brother died thinking she did.
"I had to kill 'Ashara Dayne' to move on as 'Lemore Snow'. I regret having my brother believe I was dead. He was sick, with a brain tumour and I selfishly hurt him in his final moments."
Jon was shocked. "How did you...?"
"Try?" Ashara asked. "Jumped off a bridge. Some arsehole had to go and save me," she joked lightly. "Have you got more wine? We'll need it."
Jon stood up and headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of white and a bottle of liquor. He needed something stronger and he could always hold his drinks.
He smiled to himself when he remembered bickering with Robb about who could drink the hardest - it was always Jon.
When he got there, he was intrigued to see Sansa's hand on top of Tyrion's. They quickly sprung apart and she got up to see what he wanted.
"Wine. A lot. And something stronger than what I have now," he told her, heading to the wine cooler.
Sansa nodded, heading to the fridge to grab some ice and something stronger for Jon.
She could feel Tyrion's gaze on her back as she worked to help her brother prepare some readily filled glasses for him and his guest before offering some to Tyrion himself.
He politely declined, stating that he was leaving soon anyway. He saw Sansa's face fall but she planted a smile on her face and continued to work, even putting more cakes on the serving tray.
"Is everything okay?" She spoke in low terms to Jon.
"She's telling me how she tried to..." He winced, shaking his head. "It hits hard to home you know? With Arya," he sighed.
Sansa frowned and she could remember all the feelings she felt when she saw her sister fall from the edge into the water. How she screamed and begged for the Gods not to take her older brother and little sister's lives. And when they were brought back to the edge with Arya unresponsive and freezing cold... She shivered as if she remembered the chill going through her body that day.
Then she remembered her own experience regarding brushes with death in the past.
"We'll talk later," she mumbled to him, sending him on his way.
Returning to Tyrion's side she poured herself a glass of wine and almost nearly downed the whole thing taking Tyrion by surprise.
"Slow down," he told her. "What's the matter?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. There are good days and there are bad," she told him. "And then you get the in-between days."
"Does your beautiful guest have anything to do with it?" He asked curiously. There was no denying that the brunette who spoke with Lord Stark was beautiful and intriguing.
"No, not her. Just me," said Sansa with a soft sigh. "I can't always rely on Jon to help me with my burdens-"
"So you'd turn to alcohol instead?" Tyrion chastised. "I've been there and done that. Alcohol is not always your friend."
Sansa allowed herself to smile. "I know that. Trust me, I do. There are some things you don't know about me and I wouldn't like to burden anyone who doesn't already know with them."
"Perhaps if you'd like to try with me?" Tyrion asked gently. "You've been there for me so let me return the favour."
Sansa paused for a while, contemplating whether or not to. She had already come up with a conclusion that she wouldn't but Tyrion was a nice man. One she could see herself trusting dearly.
She had not had a friend since Olyvar whom she drifted apart from after her ordeal with Ramsay. It wasn't him, it was her who distanced herself from the friendship when she was with that monster.
She kept to herself at her university since then, only talking to people when needed.
Her older brothers had become her best friends and confidants and she trusted them so she never needed to make other friends after connecting with them since Ramsay.
His phone rang and he apologised to her, answering his phone as she watched on and took slow sips from her wine glass.
"I have to go," he finally said when he hung up a few minutes later. "Jaime is being difficult and is demanding to see his wife."
"Give them my love. I'll pray for them," Sansa promised. She had not known them long but she did know Joffrey, Gendry and Robert well. The rest of the Baratheon and Lannister broods and she had not really crossed paths until recently. Most of them were nice people.
Tyrion thanked her by placing a kiss on her cheek and leaving.
She finished her wine and headed upstairs, getting dressed in her jogging kit. She needed to clear her head and she wasn't going to get there at home even though they had a treadmill.
She informed Beric of her intentions and left, hoping Jon and Ashara were getting somewhere.
Back with them, Ashara finished her tale and it left Jon rattled. Suicide was not a joke but how she lightly joked and jabbed at herself made him think of it as a coping mechanism not that he was a psychiatrist.
"I've been here for three hours. I best go home now if I want to avoid my family," she told him.
They both stood up and finished their respective drinks before heading to the front door where Beric dutifully stood with her coat.
"Lord Stark, Lady Sansa has gone out for a jog. She should be returning soon." Beric bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Beric." Jon smiled at him. He turned his mother. "Thank you for coming."
Ashara blushed. She didn't do so often. "Thank you for the invite. I didn't originally name you Jon, you know?"
Jon faltered. "W-What?"
"I named you 'Christopher'. Well, it was meant to be spelt differently but your dad registered your birth so my words were lost in translation," she explained.
She put her coat on, handing her handbag to Beric as she did so. When she tied the belt up, she got her bag again and gave Jon a charming smile.
"I hope to meet you soon, Lord Stark," she said. "You're a good man. Ned did well."
Jon could see the slight jealousy in her eyes but he didn't say anything about it, intending to give her a polite smile instead.
"Hope to see you soon, Ms Snow." He swallowed deeply. He didn't know how to do this. What to say. Sansa was better at this than he was not that she had experience with long-lost parents or anything. When Arya would get in trouble at school, Sansa would go in his place because he was too lenient and she knew how to sweet-talk the teachers before warning their sister. Also, he always used work as an excuse to avoid those situations which weren't that many.
"Touché, Jon. Well-"
The front door opened behind her and Arya poked her head through, her eyes widening when she saw Jon.
"Uh," she trailed off about to close the door but Jon stopped her.
"Arya?" He asked sternly. It shocked Ashara with his tone but he ignored her.
Arya sighed before stepping in and twirling around to show off her clothes. "We kind of went paintballing instead of watching a movie."
Jon sighed, taking in her colourful outfit which wasn't present when he saw them off earlier. "You'll pay Sansa back-"
"Bran and Osha went! They'll be back soon. Jojen and Meera need to clean up before their dad comes and we thought he'd be here already because you know how Mr Reed is-"
"Get cleaned up," he said, opening the door wider to look at the siblings. "You too. Your dad will be here in thirty minutes so if I were you..." He trailed off and watched the three rush upstairs, laughing at getting off lightly.
Ashara chuckled to herself. "I wonder how that's going to play out with your little one. Got your hands full with Arya and-"
"Brandon. We call him Bran," he reminded her.
"After Ned's brother," she confirmed. "Well, I must-"
She was cut off by a mop of blonde hair peeking through nervously. "Can I come in?" Daenerys asked.
Jon's face lit up and he caught her lips in a soft kiss before nustling against her neck and breathing her scent in.
"It feels like forever since I last saw you," she sighed happily.
They sprung apart when Ashara cleared her throat, clearly amused at being cut off again.
"I don't believe we've met although everyone who comes through seems to ignore me anyway," Ashara joked. "I'm Lemore Snow-"
"Is that your mum?" Daenerys asked Jon, her eyes wide.
Jon nodded. "Yes."
His fiancée shook the older woman's hand enthusiastically. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Ashara was surprised. "And you're Daenerys, his betrothed. Nice to meet you too, Ms Targaryen."
"Actually, it's 'Dr'," the blonde corrected.
Ashara's eyes met Jon's with a little surprise. "Excuse me, Dr Targaryen." She turned to Jon. "I must go. Thanks for having me."
Before he could reply or she could be cut off again, she quickly left and got into her car before driving off just as quick as she left the manor.
Beric closed the door and left the couple to their privacy, frowning at the sight of colourful paint staining the staircase and the railings.
"Arya and the Reed children will clean it up, Beric," said Jon. "Take the rest of the day off."
Beric gave him a smile and left to the butler's chambers as Daenerys turned to Jon with a bright smile.
"I spent the day - and kind of week - with Gilly. I think I've found my wedding dress, Jon. I know we're going to have a long engagement but-"
"No, let's get married as soon as possible."
She was surprised. "W-What?" She laughed.
He joined her in her laughter, kissing her head. "Let's get it done with. You are my forever."
Something taunted him inside his mind about him telling another woman those exact words but without a ring. Maybe if this was three years ago but it wasn't. It was now.
"I don't think we can plan-"
"Sansa's an amazing social event planner. We can hold the wedding here and I know a friend of a friend who's an officiator-"
"But what about the bridesmaid dresses? Who even are my bridesmaids? I don't have many friends! Missandei, well she's my best friend since forever so I know she'll be my Maid of Honour or should I say Matron of Honour? She got married a couple of months back..." Daenerys rambled. "I'll ask your sisters but then how many groomsmen would you have? I know I'll have to ask Missy's husband since we've known each other since school-"
"When Sansa comes back, you'll talk then!" Jon laughed. "I know I want what you want. Whatever you say goes. But Bran and Sam are my groomsmen and Sam's my Best Man-"
"By default," she said teasingly.
He knew Robb would always be his Best Man in soul and spirit but for a physical form, Sam would have to suffice.
"At least here, we can have my family who are dead be there," he said almost quietly.
Daenerys gave him a sad smile. "The only person who I'd love to be there is my uncle but he wouldn't be able to come. Do we really need a lot of people there?"
"We can have an intimate affair. As long as we get married," said Jon.
"As long as we get married," she repeated.
...
Sansa breathed heavily as she heard the music pumping through her veins from her phone.
She didn't stop running, pushing herself harder and harder until she almost tripped and quickly steadied herself.
"Sansa Stark?"
She froze, keeping her hands placed on her thighs as she breathed heavily.
When she calmed herself down she looked up to see one of the last people on Earth she wouldn't even see.
"Domeric," she breathed out.
Domeric's pale blue eyes met her and he glanced away, almost in shame.
Sansa had to admit, Domeric was lovely and he'd been close with her brothers.
He shivered under her steely gaze and she realised that she hadn't said more to him and neither had he.
"How have you been?" He asked, almost a whisper.
Straightening herself, she replied, "Fine. You?"
She knew he'd love his half-brother no matter how demented and twisted he was but that was Domeric. He easily wore his heart on his sleeve and still got surprised when people hurt him.
Maybe in another life, she and he would have been good friends.
"Fine," he mumbled.
He looked awful even though he was dressed nicely and cleanly shaven but his eyes said otherwise. He looked like he was about to burst in tears.
"You look good," he continued. "Really good and well, happy... considering..."
She blushed furiously. "And you too, Dom."
He gave her a ghost of a smile before stuffing his hands into his pockets and giving her a firm nod.
"Good day, Lady Sansa."
"And you, Lord Domeric."
He was about to walk away but she stopped him. She needed all the friends she could get.
"Call me sometime. My number hasn't changed," she smiled. "Maybe Jon would like to hear from you too."
Domeric returned the smile as tears prickled the edges of his eyes. Her brothers had been his only friends as everyone pretty much avoided their family over concerns with his father and brother and when Ramsay had abused her, Jon and Robb had cut ties completely with their good friend under their mother's orders.
When she finally got home, she headed straight upstairs to her room to have a long bubble bath and got dressed in some thick cotton pyjamas.
It wasn't night time yet but she didn't feel like getting dressed in casual clothes as she was planning to sleep on time tonight.
"Sansa!" Daenerys said when she saw the redhead come down the stairs. "Just the girl I needed to see."
"What's up?" Sansa asked with a smile, giving the blonde a tight hug.
"Jon and I want to get married as soon as possible. We're booked off for annual leave in two weeks so is that enough time to do a whole Bridal Party formalwear?"
Sansa's eyes widened and she nodded quickly. "I better get started as soon as possible. Have you guys thought of colours and-"
"Jon said you and I would do that. He says he wants anything I want which I think is stupid because it's his wedding too but we should start somewhere. We have our Bridal Party sorted. Little Neddy can be the ring bearer!" The blonde sighed happily.
"We can definitely do this. I'll have Beric help us and call the event planner up," said Sansa.
"Thank you! I have to go now but I'll see you over the week to plan."
The blonde left and Sansa continued her journey into the family drawing room where Jon and Arya watched a movie.
"No Bran?" She asked.
"I said it was fine for him to stay with the Reeds so Howland took him and Osha home with them. Just for tonight." Jon smiled at her, lifting an arm up for her to snuggle against him. "A little treat for him working hard to walk and with his studies."
"Daenerys told me your wedding is in two weeks," she said.
She shared a mischievous look with Arya which he didn't catch.
"I know it's short notice-"
"It's fine. Soon, you'll be in your own perfect little family," she smiled up at him.
When the movie ended, Arya excused herself upstairs leaving her older siblings alone to nurse respective glasses of wine.
"You know when we talked about suicide?" Sansa asked quietly.
Jon looked up from his seat across from her. "Yeah?"
"Have you ever...?"
He looked away slightly. "No. Have you?"
Sansa couldn't tell if he was telling her the truth or not. They'd promise to tell each other everything.
"Yes," she admitted.
He wasn't surprised. "When?"
"When you and Robb took me to Dubai to cheer me up with Talisa for Christmas. That was the first time."
Now he was surprised. "How many times?"
"I don't even remember. I remember some. The Dubai one scared me though."
"How?"
She looked at him. "You and Robb went shopping for Talisa and Ygritte - I think you were with her then - and Talisa stayed in my hotel room to watch TV as I had a bath to get ready to go out eating with you guys.
I ran the bath and stayed in it until it went cold and I just slipped under the water and closed my eyes. I imagined all the raw scars I had and the bruises which hadn't healed yet as well as the child I lost and suddenly I didn't want to come back up any more. I must have been under for a long while because Talisa pulled me out and had to resuscitate me. I begged her not to tell anyone and she just cried."
Jon gasped. "Did you do it any more times on our holiday?"
"Yes," she admitted again, her hands shaking. She placed her glass down. "The hot tub after you guys went to bed but I thought about how you'd both be if I... When I woke up in the hospital and saw you both crying, I was broken. I had made two of the strongest men in my life cry. Dad always showed his emotions but you and Robb never did. I thought about that day and I stopped holding my breath. I've also cut before."
"Do you still do stuff like that now?" He asked.
She shook her head. "I wanted to after... but I - we - had to be strong for Arya and Bran. Back then, I had you and Robb and our parents but now they're gone, I have to be strong because who will you have to lean on?"
Jon accepted her answer with a sigh of relief but he could see her questioning gaze and it made him slightly uncomfortable. He was the older sibling here but whenever he had problems, he'd go to Robb.
Robb was dead and talking to his grave wouldn't help much since the man couldn't exactly reply back. But his dream was the first time he felt that Robb was listening.
"Smile more."
"I told you mine, tell me yours. Your face says it all, you may be a closed book but your poker face when I asked you-"
"Don't."
Sansa's eyes watered and she nodded. "That was insensitive, I'm so so-"
"I was eighteen."
She met his face as his eyes stared intently at his wine, wondering if he should elaborate or not.
"I spent the whole summer before university looking for Ashara. Took me ten years more but I got there," he smiled slightly. "Anyway, the day before my nineteenth birthday, I found myself alone. Robb had gone for late New Years' drinks with some guys from our degree and I wasn't really feeling the scene. He tried convincing me but I refused to go so he went alone.
I drunk by myself and watched a few movies but ten minutes before I turned nineteen, I swallowed a handful of my old sleeping pills and painkillers. Not my finest moment."
Sansa let her tears fall, bringing her legs up to her chest. "Why did you do that?"
"Why did you do that?"
"Because I hated myself."
"Same."
"But why?" Sansa asked, confusion taking over. "I don't understand. I know you've told me that you weren't happy, fair enough but, you never hated yourself right?"
Jon sipped his wine. "I did. There was a reason I never smiled."
"You were broody, sure but not suicidal," she mumbled. "Arya and Robb made you smile back then."
Ghost padded into the room and jumped up to sit beside Jon, resting his head on his leader's lap with a slight smile.
"And Ghost," she added with a slight chuckle.
Jon returned the chuckle and scratched Ghost's back. His smile then disappeared. "As I said, I didn't belong in this family. In this house. This life... I wanted to end it all and I wanted to do it when Arya, Bran were little and could forget about me."
"You're their favourite sibling. You would have put them through that?" Sansa whispered. "You may not believe it but everyone adores you. Even back then so if you died, their lives would change forever. If I died well, everyone would move on."
"Don't say that." Jon winced.
Sansa wiped her tears. "It's the truth. Anyway, how did you..." She didn't know how to word her question but he knew what she meant.
"Robb. Came home early to celebrate my birthday with me. All I remember is waking up in the hospital and him praying not to lose me. We never told Dad or Catelyn."
"You should have. Maybe Mum would-"
"Would what? Until recently, I didn't even think Catelyn cared about me. She told her family that... that she wanted to adopt me when I was sixteen. She didn't tell Dad that nor us."
Sansa's eyes widened. "R-Really?"
He nodded. "I don't understand her but I respect her." He sipped his wine. "Robb forbade me from trying shit like that again but I did it again anyway. Dad knew but I didn't tell Robb."
"It would have destroyed him," she said. "He loved hard. It was all or nothing with him and you were his favourite. If you did tell him, he'd kill you himself and probably do himself in too."
It was a dark thought but it made them both smile. They looked at the time and realised it was late.
"Hey, Domeric and I bumped into each other. Maybe give him a call sometime?" She asked gently.
She saw him clench and unclench his fist but he planted a smile on his face and nodded at her.
"Whatever you want, sis. Well, goodnight."
They both finished their glasses and Sansa gave him a kiss on his cheek before heading upstairs.
He decided to stay downstairs with Ghost for a little while as the canine wasn't able to get up all those steps to their room.
"Yeah, I miss him too buddy," Jon told his dog as the canine whined sadly. "All the time."
Jon smiled.