A/N - Apologies if characters become OOC at all. Also saying this ahead of time this story will contain Robb Stark/Daenerys Targaryen content. Updates will be quicker and chapters look a little better on archiveofourown. The story goes by the same title on both websites. Anywho. Enjoy :)

Flames crackled and burned as wax melted to mere stubs. A wolf howls in the distance alongside the night breeze. The grieving cries of a wolf king soon appear to resound louder, as he caress' the face of his beloved for the last time. Chuckles of a mad man, and the King in the North raised his rage-filled eyes to meet those of Walder Frey. The sword at the northerner's side feels heavy as he reaches for the hilt. He was off his feet and back on his knees just as quickly as he had stood. The bolt of a crossbow piercing the lower part of his torso. Another striking his shoulder swiftly. He heard his mother call his name. It sounded like whispers. All he saw was a blurring view. A quiet prayer passed through his thoughts. That his mother and siblings would be alright. Then all the King in the North could do was accept that this was his end. Brought on by himself and his decision to follow his heart not his brain. But he wouldn't take it back for the world. Never.

~~~~~•~~~~~

Pain. All Robb felt was pain. His side was burning. Or at least it felt like it. He raised his hand to move it to where his body ached, but something furry and warm nudged and nuzzled into his hand. The course fur he laced his fingers through felt familiar. A puff of breath blew on his face, prompting forth a need to see what was at his side. Robb wanted to open his eyes, but he felt so weak. His eyelids felt heavier than even a battle axe or great sword. He inhaled sharply when the fur-covered…thing pressed a little into his side. Then it was rumbling. No. Growling? He felt movement as if the fuzzy thing stood. The growling grew louder, and…was there a voice?

He couldn't make out any words, but he was almost certain the growling was accompanied by a voice. Eventually the growls subsided, and there was warm fur pressed back against his side and arm. The voice was still there though. It sounded different however. Were there two people in the room?

"He…dren…sweat.."

It seemed his ears were finally starting to work. Robb still couldn't fully make out the words being spoken. Only pieces. One of the voices he could've sworn he'd heard before. Many times. It seemed like one of the voices he knew so well that it was ingrained in his memory. He could always remember how his family, and anyone he'd been around for most of his life, sounded like. His wife as well. His wife. His unborn child. Blood. They were..

"Robb. Can…hea….me?.."

"His fever….delirious…him rest…"

A small whining sound reached his ears. It must be coming from the fur-covered creature by his side. Could it be?… His direwolf Greywind?

"Gre…nd…I kn…you're..ups…."

The voice..Robb knows it. He just couldn't place it. Whoever they were, they knew Greywind. They most likely were the one to stop Greywind's growls. So Greywind trusted them. If the direwolf knew them then Robb for sure did. Something wet touched his cheek and he felt air blow on his skin.

"Ghost…lea…him be…."

Ghost? That meant…Jon. It was his brother Jon. But it can't be. His brother is supposed to be at the Wall. He'd taken the black and became a Night's Watchman. Jon shouldn't be here. Where was here? No. The better question was how he was alive. He should be dead with Talisa and their unborn baby. Not laying wherever here was. With Greywind and his brother Jon at his side. His mother. What about his mother? Where was she?

"He….breat..faster…"

"Robb…c..down.."

Calm down? But his mother. What if she had been…and it'd be his fault. His wife..her death was his fault. Their baby..everyone. Robb felt like a horse was pressing down on his chest. He couldn't breathe. His side was burning. Greywind whined by his ear again.

"Robb!"

"His fever is spiking."

That's strange. He could hear them fully now. He would've thought his inability to breathe would make it difficult to make out even a single sound. Something touched his forehead. A hand?

"Can you hear me Robb? You're alright. Listen to me. It's your brother. Jon. You're alright."

"We need to get him to take this concoction."

"Give it here. I'll do it."

When something grabbed the back of his neck, Robb's instinct was to try and pull away. He thrashed weakly but the grip was strong. A sharp pain stopped him from struggling more. It hurt to move.

"It's just me. You've got to drink this Robb."

Something cold touched his lips. A liquid held within it tipped towards him. He didn't want whatever it was anywhere near his mouth. Then again, Jon was here. Whatever it was, it couldn't be poisonous. When some of the liquid dripped into his mouth Robb tensed and inhaled sharply. It tasted horrible. He couldn't halt the coughs that built up and escaped. The cup-he was sure it was a cup-was pulled away.

"Easy. Breathe Robb."

He tried to do as his brother instructed. The coughing fit seemed never ending. When it was finally over Robb felt like a hot knife was being dug into his side. He thought he had groaned in pain but he didn't even hear it. He felt weight on his chest again, making it difficult to breathe once more. He wanted whatever was on him to get off. Couldn't Jon get it off of him? He tried to ask his brother to do so but he was pretty sure he couldn't even say Jon's name. Everything just hurt so much.

"Robb..just ho…on…"

~~~~~•~~~~~

His brother's coughs gave Jon no choice but to pull the cup away. He handed it back to Sam, then grabbed either side of Robb's face to turn it towards him. His brother was sweating whole buckets full and struggling. Everytime he coughed Jon clenched his jaw. Everytime he moaned or gasped, Jon's rage and want to murder the Freys grew. Those bastards did this to his brother. Walder Frey was going to die by his hand even if it was the last thing he did.

"Easy. Breathe Robb."

The Frey's would have to wait. Right now Jon needed to make sure his brother lived. When a few bannermen arrived on horses two days ago with Robb unconscious and injured, all Jon felt was fear. Their father was gone. Their sisters held captive by the Lannisters at King's Landing. Bran and Rickon were gone. His brother was dying . It felt like Jon was losing everything and everyone he loved. Sam's hand on his shoulder brought him back into the present and away from his angry thoughts. Robb was gasping and a weak cry in pain escaped his lips. Greywind started whining again. The direwolf gently shoving his head under Robb's arm. Jon heard his brother mumble something, and he brought his ear close. Robb was just rambling words that couldn't be made out. He was however able to distinctly hear a quiet 'Jon' which made his eyes water. At least his brother knew he was here. But he was struggling and there was nothing Jon could do. Nothing except sit here and pray to the Old Gods that Robb lived. Maester Aemon and Sam were doing what they could, but if his fever didn't go down…

"Robb just hold on. Do you hear me? Don't you dare die on me."

"Samwell, fetch some fresh water."

Jon turned his head to look at Maester Aemon. He hadn't even heard him come in. Of course he hadn't. He's too focused on his brother and his well being.

"Right away Maester."

The knowing look Sam gave him made Jon want to punch a wall. His brother was not going to die. Not now. If the Maester so much as tried to give him some sort of talk to prepare him for Robb's death.. A hand grasped his shoulder. He forced himself to look up into the blind eyes of Aemon Targaryen.

"Lord Stark is putting up quite the fight. I didn't tell you this, because I was worried how you would react. But when he first arrived with his bannermen I expected him to not last the night."

Jon squeezed his hand into a fist. He eyes returning to his brother's sweat drenched face. The Maester has just been expecting and waiting for Robb to die this whole time.

"I'm sure you already know, but if Lord Stark's fever doesn't break soon-"

"Don't. Don't you dare."

The Maester didn't say anything else. Jon silently thanked him because he wasn't sure what he might do had the old man finished that sentence. If someone said it out loud..it'd make it all too real that he was going to lose his brother. Jon wasn't going to accept that. He couldn't. Their family has already suffered enough. He reached for the cup of medicine Sam set aside on the small table at Robb's bedside. He needed to make sure his brother finished this.

"How are your own wounds?"

Jon halted halfway through his movement to gently lift his brother's head. The arrow wounds Ygritte gave him still ached and still needed healing. He hadn't given them a second thought ever since his brother arrived though. He cared more about making sure Robb lived then worrying about a couple…scratches on himself. Jon put his hand behind his brother's neck and carefully raised his head enough to where he wouldn't choke on the medicine.

"Fine. I don't even feel it anymore."

"It has barely been any time at all since you returned to the Wall. I'm certain the wounds still pain you."

"Even if they did, it doesn't matter. I need to take care of my brother."

He could hear Maester Aemon sigh disapprovingly, but he kept his focus on slowly giving his brother the contents of the cup. He had to take his time so Robb didn't start coughing again. It was still difficult with Robb occasionally thrashing his head side to side. Jon felt a weight lift from his shoulders when he managed to make his brother take all the medicine. He just prayed it did something and helped ease the sickness. Jon set the cup back down, and at the same moment Sam returned with a bucket of water.

"Apologies that it took so long, Maester Aemon."

"That is quite alright Samwell. Set it by Lord Stark's bed. We can use a rag and wet it then place it on his forehead to further help cool him."

Jon raised his hand in a calming gesture towards Greywind as Sam stepped forward to set down the bucket. He had noticed the direwolf tense the moment Sam took a single step. If he was being honest, he'd say it was sheer luck that the wolf hadn't attacked anyone that had gotten too close yet. Greywind would be vicious towards any person he didn't know if Robb didn't tell him it was alright. The direwolf was just as protective of his master as the other direwolves were of their own respective owners. Especially if Robb was hurt or being threatened. When Sam moved to dip a rag in, Jon grabbed his arm. His other hand grasped the rag.

"Let me. I don't want to risk Greywind trying to nip one of your fingers. He doesn't like people he doesn't know getting near Robb unless he's let Greywind know they're a friend. And since Robb's unconscious.."

"He can't tell his direwolf not to eat me."

Jon couldn't help but chuckle a little when Sam gulped. While Ghost knew the Night's Watchmen were allies and wouldn't attack, Greywind did not. Sam no doubt was realizing that there was now a wolf in Castle Black who could be a danger to him and the others.

"Samwell. Let's leave Snow to tend to Lord Stark."

"Jon, if you need anything-"

"I'll let you know. Thank you Sam. Maester Aemon."

He waited until they left the room, then Jon put the rag in the cold water. He squeezed and rang it out, watching the droplets fall into the bucket. He folded it in half before gently dabbing at his brother's sweat soaked face. Greywind crawled forward a little to sniff at Robb, and Jon scratched the direwolf behind the ear.

"He'll be alright. He has to."

~~~~~•~~~~~

The bed Robb was laying on dipped to one side. Greywind was laying right beside him, so it wasn't the direwolf's weight. It took at least five minutes for him to get his eyes open. When he did the light seemed blinding. The room was cold. He was thankful for Greywind's warmth. Robb blinked to get his vision to focus. He lifted his head and almost instantly a dizzy spell overtook him. It brought forth a wave of nausea too. Robb swallowed, then tried once more to look at what the added weight on the side of the bed was. Black curls and a cloak with a wolf pelt. A familiar white direwolf sat next to the sleeping figure. Jon. He heard a small whine, and then Greywind was in his face smelling him.

"Greywind. I'm alright."

The direwolf laid back but with his head resting comfortably on Robb's shoulder. He gave his wolf a smile then grimaced as the hot knife feeling returned to his side. He almost forgot. He was injured. Talisa… Robb's thoughts stopped as a deep breath signaled his brother waking. Good. He needed to ask Jon where they were and what happened. He watched his younger brother sit up and rub his eyes. He used to do that all the time when he was young but not as often now. Jon looked at him, and Robb opened his mouth to talk. Questions on the top of his tongue.

"Robb! You're awake!"

Before he could say a single word, Jon latched himself onto Robb. His arms going around his neck. While he was glad to have the opportunity to hug his brother again, his body was still hurting everywhere.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

As soon as his brother released his grip, the pain in Robb's body eased to a more tolerable degree. His injuries would take time -too much time- to heal properly. Even when he'd be back on his feet, it would be an unknown period of days before he could wield a sword as well as before. He was such a fool. He should have been smarter. He shouldn't have let his love for Talisa blind him to the dangers. But he did and he would never regret falling for her. He only could regret his own stupidity for not expecting Walder Frey's betrayal. His foolishness cost him his love and child. He still remembered feeling her hands grow cold. Her eyes falling lifeless as her last breath escaped her. And his mother..Robb still didn't know her fate.

"Jon. What happened to my mother?"

Robb's question was answered without words. Jon's head hung low and he fiddled with Ghost's fur. His mother was gone.

"One of the bannermen who brought you here. An Umber I think. He said Lady Stark…They.."

"They killed her."

"Yes. She was the reason you were able to leave the Twins with your life. She had one of Walder Frey's wives. Apparently one that he grew too fond of. Lady Stark would've killed the girl if he didn't let you live. The bannermen had to carry you out. She followed, still holding the girl. Lady Stark didn't release her until after you were on a horse with one of the men, and Greywind was let out. As soon as the girl got an inch away, Roose Bolton slit your mother's throat. She didn't have time to even turn towards a horse."

Robb could feel his lip quiver just a second. His eyes already threatening to flood with tears. He was losing so much of his family. His mother and father both gone. Bran and Rickon presumably dead because of that traitor Theon. Sansa still held captive in King's Landing. They knew no certainties of Arya's fate. All he had now was his little brother Jon and Greywind. He wanted to cry harder than the day he lost his father. He couldn't. Not yet. Not in front of his brother.

"I'm sorry about your mother Robb. I'm so sorry. I should have been there beside you. Fighting with you and protecting you. I shouldn't have let the others bring me back when I tried to leave after father was killed."

"You would have been branded a deserter."

"I could've helped my family."

"Jon you would have been killed! I would've given anything to be able to have had you by my side. You're my brother. But I would never let you be beheaded as a deserter."

Robb truly would've done anything for his brother to be with him during the war. He was sure that when he recovered and rode out to finish what he had started, Jon would want to be alongside him. Robb would not lose any more of his family. He'd have to ask the Night's Watchmen to hold Jon back. That was a matter for the future however. He needed to focus on healing so he could take back his home then give the Lannisters and Freys the deaths they deserved. But for now, he had more questions that needed answering.

"How were the bannermen able to get me here alive? The Twins are too far from the Wall for me to have made the trip."

He could hear Jon sniffle, and when Robb looked he saw his brother wiping his eyes. Ghost dropped his chin onto his master's leg, and Jon cleared his throat. Robb would've given his life if he could've kept his brother and the rest of his siblings from the feelings of sadness and loss.

"They told me they made stops in villages. Having the maesters tend to you. Their story was always that you were another of the bannermen pledged to the King in the North and you were injured at the red wedding. They thought it best to hide your identity."

"The red wedding?"

"Maester Aemon has received ravens. That's what people are calling it."

"What else have these ravens' messages had to say?"

"That Robb Stark was dead. His bannermen killed or captured. The ones who escaped scattered. Those damn Lannisters made Roose Bolton Lord of Winterfell. That traitor taking over our home. If I ever track him down, I'll let Ghost tear him limb from limb."

"He'll get worse than a direwolf tearing him apart for taking our home. For killing my mother. For betraying the North."

"Everyone thinks you're dead Robb. You could have died. If Walder Frey had sent men after you… Greywind would've fought to protect you but if there were too many Freys even he would've been killed."

"I know. It's my fault the Freys betrayed us. I'm lucky to have survived the consequences of my decisions."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was, Jon. And now I've lost everything"

Greywind huffed and whined in Robb's ear as if trying to say the same thing Jon was. No matter what anyone said, it would always be his fault. He felt Jon lightly squeeze his arm. Robb's eyes first glanced to his brother's hand then face.

"It wasn't. The Freys made their own choices. They chose to side with the Lannisters. So did Roose Bolton. And they'll pay with their lives for betraying you. Then winter will come for the Lannisters. We haven't lost yet."

Robb could only smile. Jon might not have the name, but he was a Stark through and through. Their father would have been proud to see the man Jon was now.

"Father would be glad to see you're not a boy anymore."

"He'd be proud of you too, Robb."

Jon held his arm out, and Robb managed to find the strength to lift his own and grasp it.

"Once you're recovered, they're going to be pissing their pants running from the King in the North. I might be bound to the Night's Watchmen, but you're my brother. I'm with you."

No. There was certainly no man in Castle Black who'd be able to hold back Jon Snow. Damned be their vows. Robb wouldn't let anyone touch his brother. His brother who was the one man left that he could truly trust. The Freys, Boltons, and Lannisters would be crying for their mothers. Because Eddard Stark's oldest sons would be coming for them. With his brother by his side, Robb would take back his family. His home.

"Our enemies best start to learn that they should be scared and run and hide from winter and the wolves."

Winter was indeed still coming for them all. And it would not be kind.