They – to their relief - did not remember getting born (again). It felt like a fever dream, dazed sleep, just without the fever. They thought they were sick at first, sick and hallucinating or anything, but being shoved into a new body. But they were. Clarity returned to them for hours at most and then they would fade into darkness again.

One of this waking moments was now.

They heard someone step closer to their crib. "My sweet boys", said a light voice, "Let me look at you." Ah, they thought, my new mother? A woman leaned over them, smiling at them with such love that they were filled with hope about their new life. She had a round face, framed with curls and pale blue eyes. Damn, they sure hope they take after her.

Their mother stroked their cheek. Their small fingers reached towards her, grabbing onto her fingers and cooed. She laughed. It was a sweet sound.

A fist hit their side. Huh? Right, boys. Plural. They tried turn around. Their little legs twitched and wobbled, but did not quite obey them yet. It was a strange feeling, to be not quite in control of their body. As if they remembered how to move, but this body knew not. They had no idea how children worked, no idea how they developed. Well, at least for not being a too strange child, they had ideas. They had a twin, so they should be able to mostly copy him, right? Yeah, best laid plans or something. What could go wrong? They were what – a month old or so?

Their mother extracted her fingers and took the second child. His hand grabbed her hair and tugged. She bit her lips. They snorted. "Just like your niece", she grumbled with a smile, "Little grabby hands."

What would this new life bring? They looked at their mother. If anything, their family seemed to be good. And – well off, by that dress. Perhaps their new mother just liked dresses. Even with their limited knowledge they knew that you didn't get that kind of dress for cheap. It looked good, though. The light blue colour matched her eyes well, the gold was nice too. The best about it was the embroidery. A golden tree, birds and leaves all around. Hm.

Please let their mother be a fan of medieval dresses. Please. She just liked to wear this style. Right?

Steps. A young woman in a similar dress, light blue and golden birds, stopped at their mothers side. "Sweet, aren't they?", she said, then opened and closed her mouth, unsure. Their mother set their twin down. "Sister, darling – Don't be shy now."

"Father – he isn't happy. Well, he is happy about the babes – but -", she grimaced, "He isn't sure about Briar's future."

Their mother shook her head. "She'll grow up right alongside my boys. We'll take care of her - and you!"

"He wants me to marry – tries to find a match, even if I am tainted now", she spat, "Did he'd really thought I'd be celibate?"

She sighed. "Men. Lords. You are a strong and intelligent woman of twenty-eight years. He's stupid to think you'd wait for so long.", she rolled her eyes, "Many maids become women way earlier and in worse states."

"Ah, this is why you are my favourite good-sister!", she laughed, then her demeanour turned serious. "Please, take care of her. I might accept to marry a pretty knight and if I leave her - "

"She'll be treated like my own daughter, I promise. I'll send you many letters and invite you to visit as often as you can."

They stared at the two woman. Knight? Arranged Marriage? Oh no no – no!

They did not want to be in a medieval world! Did they time travel? Or might it be dimension travel?

"Lady Tyrell wrote the message of congratulations in the name of her house and invites us to the feast if we feel fine to travel. Father says you two should take over the formalities, you know, for the future."

Fuck, fuck, fuck!, they mentally screamed, Tyrell? Out of all worlds, asoiaf! At least they weren't a Targaryen. Or Stark. Or Baratheon. Wait – they thought, which time were they even in? Fuck.

They promptly started to cry.

Yarrow Crane. Their new name. It was a good one, coming from the family who named their cousin Parmen. Yarrow and Aspen Crane, sons of Alannon Crane, grandsons of Colin Crane.

Yarrow was still figuring out their new relations. They had meet their grandfather and his wife Alanna. She was a head taller than his grandfather (might they get to be tall this time around?) and had green eyes which made them hope for their old eye colour. Their grandparents were a reverse of their first life, a bittersweet thought. Their grandmother was a sweet woman, utterly smitten with her grandchildren. Lord Crane loved them as well, but there was a calculating look in his eyes. Yet, at the same time, he had let his son marry for love and his daughter Eldana marry not at all – with a bastard! Weird. Yarrow was sure he'd learn more about him as he grew older. They knew after all, that many strange behaviours of adults would make sense in hindsight.

They spent most of the time with the other Crane children, Parmen and Briar. Parmen was the oldest with a year and a half. He was nine months older than them and liked to be loud. Briar was just a month or two older than them. She was the bastard daughter of Eldana, no one had said anything about her father. Their brother had said his first word yesterday. Now all eyes were on them, waiting for Yarrow. Since he had said "Pa!" and made their father cry, it was just fair that they would say "Ma".

Speaking was hard. Their tongue did not obey them, their hold on their mind still slipped often and made the days bleed together. On the bright side it meant they were behaving like an ordinary child.

Their parents were standing at their crib with a soft expression. They gave each other a sickly sweet look. "Our sweet hatchlings", sighed Elowyn, "Might they take after my mother? Like your sister?"

"I hope they have your eyes, darling." He kissed her cheek. "Crane eyes."

Yarrow looked at their parents, confused. Crane eyes? From their mother?

"Darling?", Alannon touched her arm, "What troubles you? - Is it father?" Elowyn sighed. She looked to the side, faint worry in her eyes.

"No", she answer after a long pause, "Your father is perfectly courteous."

Alannon tilted his head and waited. "What if they-" She shook her head - "It is strange -"

"Darling, please tell me!"

"You'll find it strange.", she crossed her arms, "And me a crazed woman, thinking of such - things."

"Sweet, we have been married for ten years. We are both strange and crazy and I like you that way."

She chuckled. "Yes, yes. I love you, too – They have Crane blood, on both sides."

He looked upon her, his face blank. "And? It a bit unusual, but we don't even share a name. Nothing like the Lannisters."

She stayed quiet. Alannon stared at his children, a complicated look on his face. Realization hit. "You think the stories are true."

"It is foolish, isn't it?"

He hugs her. "It doesn't matter. If they are true cranes, then so be it. If not, then not. They are our sons no matter what might be."

Uhh, they stared at their parents. What was that? Gods, being an infant was tiring. Yarrow could barely keep their eyes open. They had a vague idea of what their new parents were talking about, their ancestor had been a skinchanger – but why so worried?

Being a skinchanger – that would be good. It was a perfect tool, what with their connection to birds, and even better, it sounded fun. As long as they did not get lost, lost in the sky and freedom of wings. They remembered the warning about skinchanging birds.

Could they even find a teacher? Most of the Reach Houses claimed Garth Greenhand as their ancestor, some magic could still be in their veins. Skinchanging was an Old Gods thing, though, weren't it? It might be better to look into the Blackwoods then. Either way, it was far in the future. Yarrow doubted their family would let their future heir and lord travel into the North before he was knighted.

At least they had a decent idea of their future. If only they knew what timeline they were in -