A/N: Thanks to everyone who continues to offer encouragement!

Lannisport

Gerion moves through the streets and back alleys of Lannisport at the head of a triangle made up of himself, his mother, and his sister. Dressed in the black furs and leathers his mother's agents use on covert missions, the three of them are as silent and fleeting as shadows.

It is a rare moment of daylight, the only time they dare continue their search for Gerion's missing family members. The White Walkers and their army of corpses seem to lose power and go to ground whenever the sun manages to pierce the cloud cover as it rarely does these days. In the darkness their power reigns, and any warm blooded creature that wants to live hides and prays that they are not found. And so it is that Gerion, Tasha, and their mother (whose real name is apparently Natasha), have spent the last fortnight slowly inching their way through the town in what Mother calls a grid search pattern; moving in the daylight and holing up in the nearest available building when the light begins to wane.

And there are plenty of abandoned buildings to choose from. Lannisport, once a bustling center of trade, is now a tomb, only the sound of the waves lapping at the docks to show that time itself has not become as frozen as everything else.

Gerion still regrets that he told his betrothed, Sansa Stark, to go into the city without him. He can't even remember why he didn't want to leave the Rock that day, only that he suggested she take Uncle Jaime or Lady Brienne with her for protection if she was determined to go attend her charities.

And so Uncle Jaime took her. And that very afternoon an unnatural darkness stole the sun from the sky and the dead began to walk as white winds howled.

Gerion cannot stop the guilt that eats at him for not being with Sansa. For not paying her more attention, for not insisting she stay in the Rock and spend time with him. Worse still is the fact that in his heart of hearts, he resents her, through no fault of her own. It is simply that she is not Loras, and never can be. She will never call him Geri in a husky baritone while they steal secret kisses, or win a joust for him and crown his sister the Queen of Love and Beauty because she cannot openly give the wreath of flowers to him. There will never be that thrill of danger lest they be discovered, nor the relentless pressure to keep their affair hidden.

He is relieved every time she is away from him, for it allows him a reprieve from the act of courtly love he has cultivated towards her. Not that she will ever know it. No, she is a gentle, loving soul, and she doesn't deserve to be ill-treated simply because Gerion can't be with the person he truly wants (especially seeing as it isn't an objection to her in particular; if it weren't her he would only be marrying some other maiden who can birth him heirs). Perhaps if he perpetuates the lie long enough, he will even come to believe it himself. Especially once he is wed, for he has sworn he will not do to his wife what was done to his father. Sansa will be his dear lady love, and Loras merely a comrade in arms.

(A small part of Gerion wonders if this is how his mother feels about his father and Uncle Jaime, and is the only reason he's ever been able to forgive her for the shadow in Father's eyes.)

Tasha is lucky that she genuinely loves her husband as far as Gerion can tell. (Though with her, who can say? It is not as if she's ever caught on to just how little of his regard for Sansa is genuine. They are their mother's children.) On the other hand, perhaps she is the unluckiest of them all, for there has been no news of Jon, nor anyone else in the North for months. She could be a widow already.

(It occurs to him to wonder why his mother is called Black Widow. Was she married before she came to Westeros? Does he have other siblings? How old is she really? Is everyone in her realm blessed with the healing, strength, speed, and longevity that Gerion and the twins inherited from her? Are her people the origin of the stories from the Age of Heroes? There hasn't been time to ask.)

It is in an abandoned smithy that they find Sansa and Uncle Jaime at last. Sansa is dirty as Gerion has never seen her before, her hair lank with oil and sweat and soot upon her face, blood and scorch marks on her torn gown. She flies into his arms and he surprises himself with how eagerly he opens them to her, clutching her to himself.

In love with her or not she is still a dear, true friend and has been since the instant they met.

Over Sansa's head, Gerion watches as Tasha secures the smithy door while Uncle Jaime and Mother stare at each other. Mother's leg twitches with an aborted step forward, then her hand as she stops herself from reaching out. Uncle Jaime is not so disciplined, lasting only a moment before he says, "Seven hells, Sansa!" and surges forward, sweeping Mother into a bruising kiss, tears leaving tracks in the grime on his face.

"I have much to tell you," Mother murmurs, so quietly that Gerion wonders if someone without his heritage would hear it. He's never been quite sure if his senses are enhanced along with his strength and agility.

"Later," Uncle Jaime responds. "I thought never to see your face again. Never to touch you." He growls and kisses her again, Tasha smirking at the scene as she walks past the embracing couple to stand with Gerion and Sansa.

Sansa's eyes are wide, her mouth opening and closing like the trout of the Tully sigil. "But… Lord Tyrion… They can't…" she sputters.

Tasha rolls her eyes and Gerion suppresses an annoyed grunt. It's just like his sister to leave him to deal with Sansa's oblivious nature and delicate sensibilities. Just for this, he's not saying a damn thing to help Tasha when Jon eventually realizes the truth of the triad that rule House Lannister.

If Jon still lives, that is.

That thought sobering him, Gerion starts to usher Sansa towards a door in the back of the smithy which presumably leads to the former smith's living quarters in order to give Mother and Uncle Jaime some privacy.

"Why did you hide here?" Tasha asks, semi-effectively distracting Sansa from the increasingly heated reunion taking place behind them. Perhaps she's not so useless after all.

"It was Ser Jaime's plan," Sansa says in an absent, hollow voice, clinging to Gerion's arm as if she will never let go again. "The… the things, the monsters, they can sense where people are. I think it's to do with heat, because they're so cold and I told him…" And now she's staring forward, heedless of where Gerion is leading her, the shock of Uncle Jaime and Mother's affair subsumed in the horrors she has witnessed. "He had us come here because they expect a forge to be hot, so they don't notice the warmth of our blood. And if any wights come, it's easy to burn their bodies so that they don't rise again…"

She gives a full body shudder, and Gerion exchanges a look with Tasha. Sansa has always been the most delicate of the Starks, the most easily upset, the most easily manipulated… that she is still alive and coherent after hiding in a forge from evils out of legend with only her own wits and Uncle Jaime to defend her hints at the steel hidden at her core. His betrothed is a Wolf of Winterfell after all, and nothing proves her worthiness to one day be the Lioness of the Rock more than the fact that she is still able to keep her countenance when she asks, "Are the rumors true, then? Is Ser Jaime your father?"

Tasha says, "We have two fathers, regardless which of them gave the seed," at the same time that Gerion declares, "Tyrion is my father."

-l-

It is decided that Gerion will take Sansa back to the Rock while Mother, Uncle Jaime, and Tasha head north to find Jon. Gerion protests this arrangement. Uncle Jaime can take care of himself, but he does not have the advantages granted to Gerion by his mother's blood. Not to mention Gerion hasn't spent the past fortnight sleep deprived and eating rats. But Uncle Jaime will not be swayed. Reunited with the woman he loves, Uncle Jaime is adamant that he will not be separated from her so soon, especially if she is going into danger. And neither of them will let Tasha go on alone to find Jon, a quest from which she cannot be swayed.

"Besides," Uncle Jaime jokes, his famed leonine grin stretching his lips wide. "With what your mother told me last evening, I feel I need to get to know her all over again."

"I don't understand," Uncle Jaime's voice filtered through the walls of the smithy, no matter how quietly he speaks. Or perhaps it is simply Gerion's hearing that makes it seem so. "Why wait so long to tell us? At first, yes, it made sense to keep it secret, but after you knew we loved you?"

"Tyrion knew… I may not have told him outright, but I didn't try especially hard to hide from him either."

"He can't have. He would have told me. Tyrion doesn't lie to me. No more than I thought you would."

"Oh Jaime, you great golden fool," Mother says, the warm affection in her voice turning the insult into an endearment. "He's lied to you a thousand times, and so have I."

There is a shadow in Uncle Jaime's eyes now that he knows how thoroughly he has been deceived by Natasha Romanova… a shadow which mirrors the one in Father's gaze.

It feels like justice.

Still, when it comes time to part ways, Gerion lingers to have a private farewell with his mother, both of them aware that this may be the last time they see one another.

"Come back," Gerion says, trying to put a tone of command in his words. To sound like Lord Lannister. "Father will wither without you… and Uncle Jaime. That is the truth."

It is a painfully obvious attempt at emotional manipulation. So obvious that it is no real attempt at all. But he knows better than to voice the accusations and pleas that echo in his mind, to let the irrational demands of the child who still lives inside him have free reign. Emotion has a time and place, but it is not here, on the field of battle, in a time of war.

Mother's eyes trail over him, noting his tells, memorizing his face, her blue irises piercing him as surely as the winter wind. Then she says, "Truth is a matter of circumstances. It's not all things to all people all the time, and neither am I."

Gerion's breath hitches at the Black Widow's words coming from Mother's mouth. Natasha Romanova's mouth. Sansa Lannister. She is all of them and none of them.

Ser Gerion Lannister, the Lordling Who Roars, Heir of the Rock, closes his eyes for a long moment. And then, before he can stop himself, Geri opens them and says, "I know it is unlikely since he should be in King's Landing, but if you see Loras in all this madness-"

Mother smiles, a small quirk of her lips, and makes him a promise. "If I should see Loras Tyrell, I will tell him your truth."