Jon

Jon Snow had been in for a strange few days. After a night in which the Halfhand and his men were killed by the Others, Jon learned the truth about who his mother and father were, meeting Ciri and struggling to grasp the meaning of this new world, his brain was sufficiently overwhelmed. The morning after, he had been unable to get up, both because the pain of his leg and shoulder had now truly emerged, as well as how shocked he aws by everything that had happened. He'd taken his meals in bed that day, and needed help just getting to the privy, while Ciri and the doctor mostly just left him be. The next day, he and Ciri engaged in a few small chats, where she told him a little bit about herself, and he did the same at her behest, and was introduced to some little bits about the world.

Dr. Dover had been more patient with him than Ciri was. After the first day, Ciri didn't give him much space- and still insisted on them sharing a bed regardless. She encouraged him around the house, kept telling him a whole assortment of tales, from how her parents had died when she was little and her grandmama was killed by invaders, to how she had been adopted by a man called Geralt of Rivia, who she also said was bound to him by destiny, and Lady Yennefer of Vengerberg, among many others. To be quite honest, places like Cintra and Lyria, Nilfgaard and Temeria, which she was always talking about had next to no meaning for him, just as names like Queen Calanthe, Emperor Emhyr var Emreis, and Triss Merigold did. Robb did his best to tell her about his own life too, though he figured that names like Lord Eddard, Queen Cersei, or Lord Commander Mormont were impossible to keep track of for her too.

Now as they were eating lunch together upstairs, Jon found himself listening as Ciri and the doctor were talking things over. This was their normal tradition when the doctor was in between appointments around noon- where there would be food delivered to them in these strange looking carriages that were called cars. That hadn't even been as hard to fathom as the type of food they were eating, or the clocks that could give them precise times, or the lights that ran on a thing called electricity.

"The wolf eats too much," the doctor was saying. "Good thing it's quiet, or my patients might run away."

Ciri went into a tone that was both oddly somber yet still a little bit sarcastic. "Ah well… it's not that bad, is it? I can help you if you need it…"

"With money for food?" the doctor replied. "No, I don't need it. And I know you and your friend won't be staying here for too long. The thing that troubles me is how I have to keep going to stores and buying several pounds of meat multiple times a day."

"Oh," Ciri said, looking down. "Well… what have you been telling them?"

"That I've had to take in a pair of patients who had severe deficiencies in their diet owing to a lack of meat consumption," the doctor said, "now if only you two would manage to look the part, I might have an ironclad story."

Ciri nodded. "I don't think we'll stay for too long," she admitted. "We're nearly ready to go."

"Nearly," said Dr. Dover, raising an eyebrow. "Jon seems ready enough- by my judgment."

Ciri smiled, then looked at the box that was on the floor next to her chair. "Nearly," she agreed, "but I wanted to do one last thing here with Jon before we went."

Jon frowned as he was spinning the noodles on his plate up with his fork. "What are we going to do?"

"Oh… well I wanted to take you out on a date."

"You want to go find dates?" he asked, "Like the fruit?" He'd only ever gotten to try them a couple of times in his lifetime, and hadn't found them to be the most appealing food- at least for him.

She giggled. "No, silly. Oh, your world might be a little more primitive than I thought. It's a time for a couple to go and have fun together, like a romantic evening… but it doesn't have to be romantic," she rushed to clarify.

"Right…" Jon said.

"Come on, finish your food so we can go have some fun," she told him, smiling.

Jon did enjoy Ciri's company- he just didn't always feel the most comfortable about it. And it seemed that she could tell.

"Please tell me that I'm not the only girl you've ever been friends with," she said.

Jon shook his head. "I'm friends with my brother's wife," he argued, "I had sisters too."

"So you just haven't ever had friends with women who weren't from your family," she reasoned. "Good, maybe there's a time for you to start."

He didn't want to argue with her- but he also didn't think she just wanted to be friends either. Despite the time they'd spent with each other- he still hadn't told her about his vows, and how they prevented him from ever being with a woman. All he had told her to this point was how he was a bastard- which he didn't know how she had interpreted that.

When they had finished eating, Ciri led the two of them downstairs, with her box. Once they were on the couch, she opened it.

"Ohhh, marvelous," he heard her say as she started to pull things out. She took out peculiar clothes, which were like the ones that they had been wearing since they had been staying in Dr. Dover's practice. There were odd looking blue trousers that were different from the ones Jon had usually been wearing, the odd looking undergarments that seemed to be of a much higher quality than he was used to, and the hardly modest shirts that Jon couldn't help but imagine were poor winter attire. Immediately she tossed him the dark grey shirt, while keeping the maroon red one to herself, and distributed the undergarments before carefully looking through the rest of the clothes, examining the strange little tags on them before sorting.

"Ciri," he said when she had finished sorting and looked up. "What is all of this?"

"Well… clothes, obviously," she said.

"Yes, but… why?" Jon asked. "Now that I'm better, we should-"

"-Go out," Ciri said, smiling. "This land, this place… don't you want to explore it just a little bit before we go?"

"I'm not like you," he insisted. "You maybe were meant for all of this, but I… I'm not, Ciri. I have a home, a family… a place where I belong. Duty that I need to attend to."

"Bullocks."

"Not bullocks," he said back.

"Did you not hear me earlier when I told you we can go back to that very precise moment where we'd been?" She stopped for a moment, and softened her tone a little bit. "I know it's all so overwhelming… I get that. It was like this for me too, really. But I want to make sure you're ready before I take you back."

"And how does this help that?" Jon asked. "You taking me out on a… date, where does that fit into all of this?"

"Well," she began, "I need to make sure you're healed enough to walk and move freely. An outing to the mall can help with that. And… I want us to be close, Jon. I want to be able to stay with you- at least for now. When we're back on the path… who knows what can happen?"

"The path…" he muttered. Ciri liked to use that term when talking about life in his world, how he would be back on the path. "Would you really stay with me?"

"Of course," she said, with a nod. "You're a friend, and I wouldn't pull you from a bad situation just to drop you right back into it. And I had this strange calling to your world too- like something was… drawing me there, if you can understand. I've been directed towards worlds before, but… this was different. It felt like something or… someone was pulling me to you, wanting me to help you. Maybe to help you in your fight against those Others, perhaps, or… maybe something else?"

There was sincerity in her eyes- which Jon had struggled to identify sometimes. He still struggled to understand why he would be of such great interest to her. What could she possibly want in return out of him for all of this? Unless she felt true in her need to answer that calling.

"Go take a shower," she told him, "and make sure to use all of the products that our host has so graciously given us."

Almost as soon as Jon stepped into the shower, his mind drifted elsewhere. It wasn't like when his mother had come to him just before the Others were going to kill him and Ciri ended up saving him- nor was it like his mind simply turned to other thoughts. It was as though he was having a memory of a distant past. Or… of a different life entirely. He was sitting with Qhorin Halfhand by a fire. They had been talking for a little while now, just the two of them- though Jon did not know where the others were, and they had just finished reciting the vows of the Night's Watch together.

The fire was getting low by now, and he was beginning to feel the cold that would soon come- as the Halfhand was too. "The fire will soon go out, but if the Wall should ever fall, all the fires will go out."

Jon simply nodded. He wasn't in control of himself now.

"We may escape them yet," the seasoned ranger said. "Or not."

"I'm not afraid to die," Jon replied, though again, it was the Jon of the dream saying that, not the one who was showing.

"It may not be so easy as that, Jon," Qhorin Halfhand said.

Neither the Jon of the dream or the Jon who was seeing it now understood. "What do you mean?"

"If we are taken, you must yield," the Halfhand said.

Both Jons were shocked. "Yield?" He asked in disbelief. "They only spare oathbreakers. Those who join them, like Mance Rayder."

Qhorin nodded, indicating that it had been his point all along. "And you."

"No." He shook his head. "Never. I won't."

"You will. I command it of you."

You command me to break my vows? he wanted to ask. "Command it? But…"

The Halfhand interrupted before the Jon in the memory could find his next words. "Our honor means no more than our lives, so long as the realm is safe. Are you a man of the Night's Watch?"

"Yes, but-"

"-There is no but, Jon Snow," Qhorin Halfhand declared, firmly. "You are, or you are not."

Jon Snow sat up straight. There was a feeling of pride being questioned now. "I am."

"Then hear me. If we are taken, you will go over to them, as the wildling girl you captured once urged you. They may demand that you cut your cloak to ribbons, that you swear them an oath on your father's grave, that you curse your brothers and your Lord Commander. You must not balk, whatever is asked of you. Do as they bid you… but in your heart, remember who and what you are. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them, for as long as it takes. And watch."

"For what?" Jon asked. The Jon in the shower was also confused, trying his hardest to think of who that wildling girl he had captured was, or what the Halfhand was even talking about.

"Would that I knew," said Qhorin. "Your wolf saw their diggings in the valley of the Milkwater. What did they seek, in such a bleak and distant place? Did they find it? That is what you must learn, before you return to Lord Mormont and your brothers. That is the duty I lay on you, Jon Snow."

"I'll do as you say," the dream Jon said reluctantly, "but… you will tell them, won't you? The Old Bear, at least? You'll tell him that I never broke my oath."

Qhorin Halfhand gazed at him across the fire. "When I see him next. I swear it." He gestured at the fire. "More wood. I want it bright and hot."

The true Jon didn't like that tone- not one bit. He thinks that there won't be a next time.

"Wait!" he suddenly called out. To his surprise, it was him who was in control of the dream now, and Qhorin Halfhand seemed to be confused on the other side of the fire.

"Jon…" the other voice said. "I know what happened."

Now Jon was confused. "Are you… the man who was just talking to me in this?"

Halfhand shook his head. "No."

What is this? "Do you know what happened after you died?"

There was a grim look on the ranger's face, but he nodded. "I do. Both when we had this conversation… and in the life you're leading now."

"Do you know about Ciri?" he asked. "How she saved me… her powers?" Is any of this even real? Is this not just some absurd nightmare?

"I do," Qhorin replied, without hesitation. "My word stands. Our duty is to the Night's Watch, Jon Snow. Sometimes, that comes above our honor."

He still had so many questions. "What am I to do?" he asked. "Ciri… I think she wants…"

There was an odd looking smile on Qhorin Halfhand's face. "Do whatever you feel is necessary." Then all at once, the strange memory-vision was gone.

Jon was nearly tempted to get out of the shower so he could tell Ciri about what had just happened. But he thought better of it, thinking of the Halfhand's advice. I need to do what is necessary, he thought to himself.

She had killed an Other and saved his life. And then there were her powers too. He felt resolute in his convictions now. Thus far, he still hadn't told her about his vows- not fully at least, though he had mentioned a few lines. Taking a wife and fathering a son was forbidden. But his brothers had always been fond of paying visits to the whores of Mole's Town. And for the sake of winning the heart of someone like her…

Once he had finished washing and drying himself, Jon began to put on the clothes that Ciri had given him- though when he got to the shirt, he had to stop for a second. It was dark grey, yes, and had extremely short sleeves, but on the front of the shirt, there was a white wolf on it. Like Ghost, he realized- though the eyes weren't red.

Then there were the words above the wolf, which were printed in a way that was simply too even and concise to possibly have been a human's work. The sword in the darkness, it read. He had only mentioned it once, but she must have remembered it. Oddly, it made him smile a little.

Once combed, he pulled his hair back in a ponytail, and applied the stuff that was called deodorant as well. When he looked at himself in the mirror, Jon didn't think he looked terrible- though admittedly all of this fashion still seemed a little bit strange to him.

He expected that Ciri might be getting ready when he emerged from the bathroom, but as it turned out, she was already done, and smiled a little bit when he got out. "You look good," she said.

Jon wanted to say the same thing, but he ended up gulping back his words instead. When she noticed, her smile turned into a smirk. She wore the same odd, blue trousers that he was wearing, and had a shirt on like his, except for how it was red, and instead of a direwolf, there was an odd little bird. Most worryingly, there were the words on top of her bird. Sex, Smooches, Snuggles. "Uhh…" he finally said.

"Don't you like it?" she asked. "It's a swallow."

"Like… your sword?" Zireael was the name of Ciri's sword, and she had told him that it meant swallow in a different language than the common tongue they spoke to each other- one from her world.

"Mhm," she nodded, "and like me. I'm the swallow, like you're the white wolf."

"Ah…" Jon said, a little blankly. "Do swallows normally have so much around their eyes?"

Ciri made a face. "You mean my eye-liner? It's not that hard of a name to remember." She reached into the box again.

"Here's your jacket," she said, flinging it out of the box right to Jon, before grabbing one out for herself. When he caught it, he saw that the color on the jacket was black, while hers was a dark green.

"Black, huh?" he said.

"Naturally," she agreed, "I know much you loathe to part with those black clothes of yours. Figured you could at least be a little fashionable in it."

Jon sighed. "So where are we going?"

She smirked again. "You'll see, silly."

They went upstairs and found that Dr. Dover was sitting on the table still, looking at the miniature long sight, where there was a projected image of someone who must have been a patient on the other end. "Yes, yes, I can see that," the doctor was saying.

Jon followed Ciri's lead by standing patiently on the other side of the table. Or, patiently at first, at least, since after a little while, Ciri decided to retreat into the living room, sitting down on one of the couches. He followed her there too, since he couldn't think of anything to do while listening to the doctor deal with one of his many patients.

A few minutes after sitting idly, Ciri finally spoke up, using a quieter voice to avoid disturbing Dr. Dover. "You know… you never did tell me what your mission was exactly supposed to be about," she said. "The men you were with… they were called Qhorin, Ebben, Stonesnake and Squire Dalbridge, and you said that they were among the most seasoned men in your order, but you never said what you were doing with them."

When he looked over at her, she was now laying on her back along the full length of her couch. "Well, do you remember what I told you about how I got my sword, Longclaw?" Jon asked. "How I saved the Lord Commander's life from those wights, which were trying to kill him?"

"Yes," she said.

Jon put a leg up on the couch. "Well, the Watch has had a problem with deserters recently. When I had joined the Watch, there had already been four deserters executed within a few months to start the year, and over a dozen more who were believed to have deserted or had simply gone missing. My Uncle Benjen was the First Ranger, and he went off to go search for one of the missing rangers, Ser Waymar Royce. One of the knight's companions had turned up south of the Wall, you know, and was executed on the day Robb and I found the direwolves."

"Huh," she said, sitting up a little to better look at Jon. "And your uncle went missing, didn't he?"

"He did," Jon agreed, "and he wasn't the only one either. More and more rangers kept disappearing and not returning. Maybe some of them went over to the Wildlings or simply deserted, but my uncle would never do that. He would never."

"So that wight attack… gave you a different idea as to what might be causing the disappearances?" Ciri guessed.

"Well yes… and the Old Bear wanted to do a full ranging mission to find my uncle. Not a smaller party of three to seven, like we usually sent… a larger one," he explained. "Two hundred men from Castle Black, another hundred from the Shadowtower. We met at the Fist of the First Men, and Qhorin Halfhand decided to take his men on his own private mission into the Frostfangs."

"So how'd you end up with them? I thought you were the Old Bear's steward."

"I was," he said with a nod. "But apparently they wanted to make me Lord Commander one day, so Qhorin Halfhand asked me to come with them, and the Old Bear agreed, so that way I could get some seasoning." He scratched his chin- which had been itchier than usual now that Jon had finally been able to shave again. "The Halfhand wanted to find out information about Mance Rayder's plans, since he thought there was something that the wildlings had been planning- something that he had been trying to find in the Frostfangs that would help him win the war. Maybe we would have found it if… you know…"

"You didn't all get killed?" Ciri suggested.

"Yeah." Her way of speaking was already rubbing off on him just a little bit.

She looked over at the doctor, and noticed that the appointment he was in the middle of was still going, then turned her attention back to Jon. "Do you really think that Mance Rayder could win this war? Some of those stories you've told me, like how strong the Wall is, and how your brother is apparently a great warrior king who has been winning battles in the south…"

"I don't know how Robb's war has been going," Jon confessed. "The last we heard, he'd won two major victories and been crowned king after father died." Even though he knew who his parents really were, Jon still had told Ciri that his father was Lord Eddard Stark, and that he was the bastard half-brother of Robb, Willam, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. "But the Halfhand seemed really concerned about whatever it was that Mance Rayder might be plotting, and… well I think he wanted me to potentially infiltrate the wildlings if needed to find out." He let out a sigh. "Could you help me with this too, mayhaps?"

"Figuring out what the wildlings are plotting?" Ciri asked. "Sure, but… I need you to remember that I also have my own mysteries in your world that I mean to solve- like what called me to it, and why things felt so… off."

"What felt so wrong about it?" Jon wondered.

"I don't know how to put it into words exactly," she admitted. "But… something about the world seemed weirdly hostile… like… I was unwelcome… messing with some kind of order. And that's without getting into how time in that world seemed to be so strange too. Like it had been screwed up a whole lot." Ciri made an odd face. "Maybe… the wildlings are meant to be your allies too, Jon… if the Others make use of wights that they themselves resurrect, then we shouldn't be leaving however many hundreds or thousands of corpses that could be made out of them north of that Wall of yours."

"What would you have me do, exactly?" Jon asked.

"Well… your family rules the kingdom just south of the Wall, doesn't it? Your brother is the king, and you were the Old Bear's steward. That gives you influence, doesn't it? Maybe helping to facilitate a peace, or relocation of the wildlings south of the Wall?"

"I don't know," Jon admitted. But luckily, it seemed that Dr. Dover was finally finishing his call at that moment.

"Yes, Ciri," the doctor said, as he was coming over. "What did you need?"

"Well… I wanted to take Jon out," she said, sitting up. "Could I borrow your car?"

"Ahm…" Dr. Dover started to say, making a face. "You know how to drive?"

"Oh, of course," Ciri said. "Just because I didn't learn it here doesn't mean I don't know how." Jon noticed for the first time that she had a purse, which she began rummaging through, until she found a small card, and flashed it towards him. "I have a license too, see? If anyone decides to pull me over, that is. And money too- so it's not like I need anything from you."

"Humm," the doctor said, thinking it over. "Well… if you know how to drive, I suppose it's not much of a problem. The city did away with traffic policing a decade ago… but do you know where you're going?"

"Naturally," Ciri agreed, "to the mall."

"Tessina Mall," their host said, flatly. "You'd best be careful. And you should still use the GPS, even if you know the way- the approach is tricky." Then he reached into his pocket and drew out what looked like an odd set of keys. Or at least, they seemed to be keys, though the resemblance between them and the ones that Jon had seen in his own lifetime was sparing. "Please avoid getting into an accident, friend Cirilla."

She smiled. "Come on, Jon," she said, "let's leave Ben alone now, so he can get back to his appointments." Then she turned back to the doctor. "Oh and… please don't forget to feed Ghost."

Dr. Ben Dover gave a slight smile, then retreated back to his table.

Ciri had become extremely excited after that, as Jon suddenly felt her tugging him up from the couch and towards the door to the garage. He'd only been here once- when Jon had to help them relocate Ghost to the basement, where they were able to better take care of him. He felt nervous as Ciri directed him to sit down, then began to rummage through the closet across from them.

She returned with two pairs of boots- which looked so good that he feared if he ever wore them among the Night's Watch that it would get him murdered by a jealous brother- though neither looked particularly practical. Both pairs were black, though the one that she put before Jon was black bottom had a white bottom and white fur lining to go along with the laceless straps, while the one she began to put on had the look of fabric to it, with a slight rise on the back and a more grey fur-lining that cuffed over the top of the boot. Notably though, both were much shorter than the ones he typically wore.

"How long have you been planning this?" Jon asked as he began putting on his boots.

"Ah… this morning actually," she admitted. "Luckily the bank didn't question me when I exchanged my gold pieces for cash, and then I went to go get all of these… I wasn't quite sure about your sizes, but it seems my guesses were pretty accurate."

"You did what?"

"Oh… the bank?" Ciri asked. "Yeah, in more advanced societies like this one, banks aren't only for the rich and powerful, you know. Oh, bloody hell, I'm not going to explain how capitalism works to you, but they have a gold-backed currency here, so I just walked into the bank and exchanged my gold for cash. Since I didn't deposit anything into an account, they didn't have any questions- they just assumed I had withdrawn the money from a different bank."

Jon was so confused now.

"Come on, let's go," she said, "out to the car now, Jon."

Somehow he ended up going ahead, which proved to be a mistake. As Ciri came out the door behind him, she pushed a button, which suddenly caused the gate to the garage to suddenly produce an odd noise. Jon recoiled so hard that he ended up falling on top of her.

They ended up hitting the ground with a thud, and Jon felt a little bit of pain in his back. He was worried about Ciri too, who would have had to hit the actual floor and get crushed under his weight. For just a second, there was nothing from her, and he was about to call out, asking if she was okay, as he also was trying to get up.

Then his fears were alleviated by her suddenly bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Jon, hahahaha, Jon… oh, it's just a garage door," she said, suddenly putting her arms around him.

He rolled off of her. "Are you alright?" he said, once he was laying next to her.

It took her a few more seconds to stop laughing. Then she turned her head towards him and smiled. "I'm fine, Jon, really." Then she took one of his hands. "Just try not to be so skittish in public, alright?"

"I'll try," he said.

When they were in the car, Ciri gave him instructions to put his seatbelt on, then drew out the keys that she had gotten from the doctor. "Oo, are you ready for this?" she asked, with a grin as she put the key into a strange little hole next to the wheel.

Then she twisted it, and all at once, the car seemed to come to life. Lights came on, the seats suddenly moved all on their own, and Jon felt himself grabbing Ciri's wrist, as he tried not to panic.

"Relax, Jon," she said, "You're not the first person to ever ride in a car before."

Jon really hoped that he wouldn't piss himself right now.

He shut his eyes as Ciri was fumbling around with the longsight that was situated between them. "Hmm… Tessina Mall," she muttered as she was looking through it, and the car seemed to quiet down a little, the sudden burst of life turning into a dull humming sound.

Everything was all fine, right on up until the new voice spoke.

"Starting route to Tessina Mall," a woman's voice said, causing Jon to jump back in his seat, opening his eyes again.

Ciri was looking at him again, and clearly holding back another fit of laughter. She took his hand, lacing her fingers between his.

"Jon…" she said, "just trust me, alright?"

He took a deep breath. "I… trust you," he said, tentatively. "I don't trust any of… this."

"Right," Ciri said, nodding. "So just… try not to get too scared, alright? Remember that I'm in control right now, and that none of this is designed to hurt you."

The strange lady voice suddenly spoke again, giving instructions on how to get to the mall.

"The car… talks?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Ciri said, "it's like in there, when the doctor was on his abacus. Like… there's nobody literally in the car, it's just receiving signals from somewhere else, and it has speakers that transmit it to us."

"That doesn't make any sense."

She shrugged. "You know, there was this one world where they apparently named the computer lady's voice after me, but they spelled it wrong." Then she let go of Jon's hand. "I have to drive now, Jon. Just don't shit yourself, please. I didn't bring a spare set of clothes for you."

Ciri returned her attention to the wheel and turned her head around, like she was about to make the car move backwards. Then suddenly the car began to make a lot of noise again. Jon tried not to panic again, but the car didn't move at all.

"Oh… by the devil, what is wrong with me?" she muttered rhetorically, as she looked over at the strange lever device that was in the divider of their seat. "Just put it into reverse and… voila!"

Suddenly, there was a noise from the doors.

"That was the doors locking automatically," she assured him before Jon even said anything. "Just take a deep breath, Jon."

He did. And in that moment, he felt the car jerk backwards so suddenly that he would have hit the cabinet in front of him were it not for the seatbelt holding him- or at least he thought so. Then the car stopped suddenly again.

"Dear me…" Ciri muttered, "I might be a little out of practice."

A little out of practice?

According to the clock, it took them exactly seventeen minutes to get to the mall, but Jon felt like he had aged a full seventeen years during that time.

At first, Jon kept his eyes shut and silently prayed to the Old Gods of the North, even with how far away they must have been. Until he began to feel queasy, and he told Ciri about that, who told him to open his eyes, because he was getting something called car sickness.

That only made it worse though as Jon kept his eyes trained ahead and tried not to squirm as they were going faster than any horse ever could. On multiple occasions, it took his entire willpower not to cry out as Ciri suddenly sped them up or slowed them down, or when he saw other cars moving around them too, which he could have sworn they were going to hit.

Jon was on the brink of a breakdown right up until they finally made it to what the car voice called a parking lot. In the distance, he could see a large building, about as big as a decent-sized castle, and they were on a now girthy road with cars lined up in orderly rows, in a higher frequency closer to the building. Then with a final jerking of the car, they were suddenly joining into the column, but extremely far from the building, and it was then that they finally came to a stop.

It was a good thing that the doors were locked, and Jon didn't know how to take the seat belt off, because he was too dizzy to walk just then.

"I…" he finally said.

"I'm glad you didn't throw up," she said with a proud smile. "You know, I threw up on my first time."

"Uh-huh," was all he could manage.

"Well, it was either this or I would have to portal us here," she said.

Jon shook his head. That was one thing he did truly dread about going back home- the fact that it meant another sudden teleportation. "Ugggh."

She reached down onto Jon's side of the car and began toying with some things, and then for a moment Jon felt like he was falling backwards, as he realized the seat was moving again. "Relax," she whispered. "We'll take a few minutes, alright? I'm just allowing you to sit back a little more."

"Ciri…" he said, longingly, still unable to form a full sentence in his present state of shock.

"What… do you want snuggles?" she asked, curiously. "Here let me see…"

Her voice trailed off, which was followed by a clicking noise and the sound of her seatbelt retreating back into the wall of the car. Then all at once, the life in the car died, and Ciri then began to crawl over the dividing barrier that was between their seats. She managed to do it relatively easily, but ended up falling onto Jon with a little bit of force, since there wasn't enough room in the seat for them to lay side-by-side.

"How's that?"

Jon didn't say anything still, though he did now have Ciri's ashen-grey hair in his face in addition to how poorly he felt.

"You know… I do wish I could maybe one day just sort've live like this," she said, "going from world to world, seeing and exploring things… doing it for my own pleasure."

"You want me to…" he began to say.

"Well… I'd like to have you traveling with me," she said. "You're a little bit of a dolt, sometimes, but you're from a world that's pretty similar to mine, at least in terms of advancement."

"Why don't you just do that?" Jon's voice was now starting to become clear again. "You're the Lady of Space and Time, that's what you said, right?"

"I am," Ciri agreed. "But I don't want to be lonely… and well… there's more things in my life that I still haven't told you about."

"Will you tell me about them?" he wondered.

"No," Ciri said. "That would ruin our date."

Ah… "You know, I'm feeling a little bit better now."

"Right," Ciri said, perking up. She caused his seat belt to retract, like hers had, then unlocked the doors and opened them up. "Come on, then," she said, when she was finally out of the car. "Let's try not to be too overwhelmed."

Jon already was overwhelmed though, as he got out of the car. While she rummaged through her purse, he closed the door, and tried to find stable footing, nearly falling onto Ciri before he finally stabilized. "I feel better," he mumbled, but it wasn't until she took his hand that he did really feel that way.

"Here," she said, taking something out of her purse, "this is your wallet. I gave you a thousand dalaras. If you manage to spend all of that, I will be astonished."

"What is this, exactly?" he asked, once he had tucked the wallet into his pocket, and they started walking towards the Tessina Mall.

"You've been to markets before, haven't you?" Ciri wondered. "Well, imagine that, but basically much bigger, all inside, and in a more advanced world with more advanced products and things like that. There's restaurants for food, but no like… food to buy in bulk like usual at a market, but clothes, jewelry, toys and trinkets, collectables and mementos, furniture… things like that."

"Oh… so should I get a bed then, so we can take it back to my world with us?"

She giggled. "Just one should suffice, don't you agree?"

On multiple occasions, cars whizzed past them, which frightened him, but for the most part it was just like walking normally was, putting one foot in front of the other, and checking occasionally for obstacles.

"I don't think there will be anything that scary in there… oh, apart from the up-downs and the movey-stairs."

"The…" Jon began to say.

"I'll make sure we can stick to actual stairs," she told him. "And stick close to me. Tracking you down is going to be a nightmare- but if you do get lost, just stay put."

"Right…" Jon said. He remembered once when he and Robb had been boys, maybe five or six, Lord Eddard had taken them to the market in Winter Town, and given them fairly similar instructions.

It didn't take him long to get lost. A few minutes into their exploration of the Tessina Mall, Jon and Ciri got separated in a large crowd, and contrary to her advice, he ended up moving out of the mob that had quickly formed.

As he moved to the edge of the opening, he stumbled into a man wearing a dark blue uniform. Jon knew it was a worker by some instinct, but not exactly what he did.

"Can I help you?" the man said.

I might need to just get out of here, Jon thought to himself. "I lost my friend in the crowd," he said. "What's going on there?"

"Lines growing too thick for the Blackberry store," he said, "you know how it is when they release a new ameche- people go wild to get the newest one."

Jon nearly asked what an ameche was, but he realized that would probably be a bad idea- since the way the man talked made it sound like everyone knew what they were. "Can I stay here while I wait for my friend to come out?"

"Most likely they aren't going to come out this way," the man replied, "unless they weasel their way out of the crowd, that is."

He nearly cursed. "What am I supposed to do without her?" he asked, instead.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Your girlfriend? I can get people on the other side looking for her when she comes out. What's she look like?"

"Grey hair, about my age… she's got a scar on her cheek, runs like this," he said, running his finger along his right cheek to illustrate it.

"Can you call her?" the worker replied.

"Like… shout her name?"

"No. On your ameche."

"I don't have one," Jon said, trying to remain calm. He was doubtful if Ciri had one either, though he wouldn't have been shocked.

The man took out a long black device, then began saying that information into it. To Jon's shock, a voice responded within the thing, though he wasn't as shocked as he had been when the car had spoken.

"Right," the worker said, "I've got security on the other side looking for her," when it was done. "Maybe you should go look for a present for her then."

After a brief discussion with the man, Jon ended up going into a jewelry store, whose name he forgot almost as soon as he stepped in. Luckily, he had assurances that as soon as Ciri was found, he would know about it, so he decided to take some time. Inside the shop was an abundance of necklaces, rings, bracelets and more fashionable jewelry that Jon imagined might have been heaven to someone like Queen Cersei Lannister.

Once he'd looked over the prices, Jon resolved to get Ciri something from this place, since it would only be about two hundred dalaras at most. But he just couldn't settle on something that felt right to him.

"Are you alright, dear?" an older woman called out from across the glass case. "You seem a little lost. Could I help you with finding something?"

Jon frowned. "Well… I don't know," he admitted. "I wanted to get something for my friend, but…"

The woman seemed a little bit intrigued by that, in a similar vein as the worker outside had been. "A girlfriend?" she guessed.

"Well… she's a woman, yes," he agreed. Ciri had told him that in more advanced worlds, like this one, the concept of betrothal was usually discarded as people were given the freedom to select their own partners. He suspected that girlfriend was their way of saying betrothed. In which case, he wasn't sure if he wanted to use that type of language.

"You're not hoping to make any proposals, are you, dear?"

Asking to marry her, you mean? "No… but it's a gift. A memento."

The older woman smiled. "Go on. Tell me about her."

"Well… I met her pretty recently. She saved my life actually… that's how we met, and we came here together," he said, figuring that if he spoke in vague terms, it would be fine. "I don't think she's the type of lady who appreciates a gold chain though… she doesn't wear any jewelry at all."

"Ah," the woman said, smiling. "So she's not the type to wear jewelry to make herself look pretty…"

Jon nodded. You should see how much eye-liner she puts on, he was tempted to say.

"There's not a lass in the world who doesn't like jewels," the woman said, "just sometimes, they like them for different reasons, that's all. You said you were looking for a memento, yes?"

"I did," he said, hesitantly.

"Then maybe you need to not think about her, but think about you," the woman said, pointing a finger at his chest.

"What does that mean?" Jon said. "You want me to get her something that I would want?" Truth be told, he didn't feel much of an urge to buy anything in this store for himself.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the shop-lady said. "Not something that you would like, but something that will remind her of you."

"Maybe something with… amethyst?" he suggested, after glancing down at his jacket.

The old woman frowned. "I'm afraid I don't have anything like that here," she said.

Jon couldn't help but give more thought to the idea of an amethyst- but he started to feel like that was wrong. During their time at Dr. Dover's house, Ciri had insisted on Jon wearing things other than black. She wants me to be more than just a man of the Night's Watch, he realized. But what am I instead?

"Not gold or silver," he said, thinking out loud. "Bronze, perhaps?"

"No bronze either, sorry," the lady replied.

Jon figured as much. Bronze was the metal of the First Men, but he wasn't sure that it really suited him, considering he himself didn't own a single bronze item.

The lady stepped out from behind the counter. "Come with me, dear," she said, with her sweet little voice.

He did as she said, following as she led him through several different display cases, until she found the right one. "Perhaps you might want to consider something with rubies?" she offered. "Red symbolizes…"

Jon didn't hear the rest of what she said about rubies. He knew that wasn't him. The same as emeralds, which she showed him after that.

"I don't think so," he said, bluntly.

"Pearls?" the lady suggested, as they were still sitting outside of the emerald display.

"No…"

"I'm afraid I only have one other type to offer then," the lady said, as she began leading Jon around the store again.

In the case was a series of sapphire-based jewelry.

At first, Jon was tempted to simply say there was nothing in there that seemed to fit. The pendant necklaces, the rings… none of those seemed right. There was a hairnet among the items there, which he figured would go about as well as serving her pigshit for dinner.

Then he saw the bracelet.

There was a ring of flowers, sculpted out of sapphire, with jade beads in-between them alternating in the circle, while being bound on a chain. Oddly, Jon found himself thinking of home when he saw it, thinking of Lord Eddard's small garden of blue winter roses that he had put up in honor of Aunt Lyanna. Something that Ciri might want to think of me as…

"That one," he said, pointing to it. "The bracelet there."

"Oh, a splendid choice," the woman said, smiling. "That would be one hundred fifty dalaras when we're back at the counter."

Jon awkwardly stood there as the woman began to take out her keys, until she shooed him away. So instead he waited awkwardly by the payment counter for the lady to come around.

When she did, she wasn't holding the bracelet- but instead was holding what must have been a container for it. Once she was on the other side of the counter, she began to do whatever wizardry they did on the abacus. Luckily, he didn't jolt at the beep that came.

"One hundred fifty seven dalaras," she said.

He frowned. "You said a hundred fifty," as he began to pull out the papers from his wallet.

"Yes… and tax, of course."

"Right… tax," he said, under his breath. Ciri had warned him that one thing to know about all the different worlds was that they all had their own ways of taxing and they were often nothing alike. He remembered her complaining about one time when she had to pay taxes on menstrual products because they were considered to be a 'luxury item.'

The lady took two hundred dalaras from him, then began to pull money from her draw. "Forty-three," she said, handing the papers back to him. Then a slim piece of paper began to come out of one the cubes on the desk, which startled him a little bit. Thankfully, the lady didn't notice. "Would you like your receipt dear?"

What in the world is a receipt? "Yes…" he said.

The lady smiled as she pulled the piece of paper from the cube and put it in a bag, along with the necklace. "Best of fortune to you."

"And you," Jon replied, as he began to make his exit.

Outside, he found the worker with a bit of a panicked look on his face. "Right when I was about to get you," the man said. Just now Jon saw that the man's name was Josiah from a tag on his label. "This friend of yours… was she wearing a shirt that had a bird on it? And did it say, 'Sex, Smooches, Snuggles?'"

"Yes…" Jon said, nervously. "Is she in trouble?"

"You'd better come with me."

Gods be good.

Josiah raced ahead, rushing through the crowd, shouting, "Make way! Make way!" as he did. Jon just barely managed to keep up as the crowd tried to close behind him, until they were at last on the other side of the gathering.

He spotted Ciri almost immediately, sitting on a bench, surrounded by two men in uniforms. Then he noticed the handcuffs. "Hey!" he said, "What has she done? Let her go!"

"That's what I'm saying," Ciri muttered. "Apparently the mall security here is actually respectable and they don't shoot on sight."

"This your girlfriend?" one of the new security workers said. "The one we were told to look out for?"

"Yes…" Jon said. "I just needed you to find her after we were separated…"

"And she tried to run when we called out to her," the other one said. "Are you carrying some kind of drugs, ma'am?"

"Not at all. You singled me out as I was leaving the crowd and I panicked, that's all." She groaned. "Now could you please get me out of these fetters?"

"Fetters," the security man said with amusement, "you've got a funny way with words, miss." He drew out a very small key. "Lift your hands up."

Ciri lifted her hands up with an impatient look on her face. Luckily, she didn't do anything to provoke the guard as he was removing the cuffs from her wrists. Then she stood up, and walked over to Jon.

"Come on," she said, putting a hand over his shoulder, and turning him down the large corridor, away from the massive crowd at their backs. "We're getting coffee."

"Coffee?" The word sounded vaguely familiar to Jon, but he couldn't remember exactly where he had heard it. I got you something, he almost said, but he decided against it. He would wait until a more peaceful moment.

"Yeah," she said, now that they were already out of earshot of the three security workers. "Coffee is the one drug that is consistently legal in every world."

"But you told them…"

"Jon, please. Coffee isn't illegal for a reason- everyone likes it. And it's not like fisstech or something like that- medical or something where there's this grand underground network for selling it or anything. It's just a drink." She pointed to a store with an illuminated green light over it. "Oh… perfect! Vermucks Cafe."

"You've been here before?" Jon asked as she was turning them towards the place.

"No… but it's a coffee shop." Ciri said, grinning. "Green logo and ending with -bucks… those seem rather common for whatever reason."

He had a dozen more questions now, but they were overruled by the environment they were entering. Even on the outside, he caught a whiff of a rather distinct scent coming from within the store. Well, truthfully, neither store or restaurant seemed proper to Jon, as he looked through the windows, and saw a strange layout within, including several couches and various different tables that all seemed to be of different sizes and shapes. He could hear Myrcella saying, 'What in Seven Hells is this place?' in his mind.

"Hello!" one of the workers said, as they came through the second door. "Are you here for a mobile pickup?"

Both of them frowned, and for once Jon got the satisfaction of not being the only one who was confused. "What's that?" she asked. "Mobile pickup, you said?"

"Yeah," the female worker replied. Her hair was dyed pink, and it looked like she had a pair of paintings on her arms, which struck Jon as a little bit odd, "did you place an order through the mobile app?"

Ciri shook her head. "No…"

The lady stepped up to the counter. "Alright, what can I get you then?"

"Well… I'd like a large iced… you call them mochas here, don't you? The chocolatey drink," Ciri began to say, "extra espresso too, please. Ah, but no caramel, I don't like that."

"Anything for you?" the lady said, then turning towards Jon.

"Um…" he started to say.

Ciri shrugged. "So… we've never really been much of coffee drinkers, if you can't tell… and this is his first time here, so… we're experimenting."

"Ahum…" the worker said, "is there anything you have in mind?"

Ciri frowned. "Well…" she studied the menu a little more carefully. "I suppose just an iced coffee with vanilla." She looked over at Jon. "You like vanilla, don't you?"

What is vanilla? "I think so…"

"We'll do that," Ciri said, smiling.

The worker smiled back. "And… what sizes would you like?"

Ciri frowned. "Oh um… large?"

"Doozi, Velike, Faur or Heleth are our sizes, in order."

Jon had never heard those words uttered before in his life, and it seemed Ciri didn't really know what they meant either. "Whatever the second biggest of those is," Ciri said.

"Faur, then," the young woman said, smiling. "And names?"

"Jon," he finally said, figuring he could volunteer at least one piece of information, "and Ciri."

"Thank you," the lady said. "Four dalaras, please."

Ciri pulled out the paper money from her purse, and handed it to the worker. "You can keep the change," she said, with a slight smile.

Before the young lady had time to respond, Jon felt Ciri pull his hand again, leading them down the counter-line, where he could somewhat see the process for how they made their drinks. "I like the barista," she whispered.

"What's a barista?"

"It's the name for a cafe worker, obviously," Ciri said. "This is a cafe, and the workers are baristas."

"All of them are baristas?"

She frowned, with a little bit of doubt on her face now. "I think so…"

"Are you my ah… girlfriend now?" he wondered, as Ciri decided to sit down at one of the couches. "Should we say that?"

"You know… I rather like that idea," she said, before leaning over and putting a kiss on Jon's cheek. "Oh… what's in that bag of yours?"

"Well… it's supposed to be a surprise," Jon said. But he felt like he had already given up half of the surprise just by her noticing the bag to begin with. So he drew out the small container from within the bag. "It's for you."

Her face seemed to light up a little bit. "Really?"

"Mhm," Jon said, slowly opening the container for her, revealing the bracelet within.

Ciri gasped when she finally had a clear view of it. "Oh, Jon… it's wonderful," she said with a glowing smile. She slowly drew the bracelet out and slid it onto her wrist.

Then she gave him another kiss, this time squarely on the lips.

Jon felt his face go a little bit red. It wasn't just the fact that his vows forbid him from having a wife or fathering children, the sensation felt so bizarre to him. One that he couldn't even fathom with words or properly articulate.

They opened their eyes in unison, his the dark grey color of stone, hers the bright green shade of emeralds. "I'm glad I found you, Jon," she whispered to him. "For ages it just felt like I was running from one place to the next… going world to world without ever finding anything actually meaningful. I found friends, but nothing I could ever really share. I think… I was starting to drown in it. I've just needed… well someone to share it with, someone to help me feel like… it was all still actually real."

"And I've been that for you?" said Jon.

"My best word for it is that you've been my anchor," she told him, smiling. "All this is bizarre and weird to you, but… you trust me enough to calm down when I tell you it's fine. I suppose I maybe could have looked for Geralt and Yennefer, but… I wanted them to be happy where they were, I didn't want them to have to come with me on a never ending tour of worlds like this. But you've helped me feel steady now, gave me something to hold me in one place, even if you weren't trying to."

"That's…" Jon wasn't even quite sure how to describe it.

"I don't know how much I believe in destiny anymore. It's not like when I was with Geralt and Yennefer, where it just felt like I was destined for them, and it was all sunshine and rainbows… but you know… I wonder if maybe it was destiny that brought me to your world somehow. Like it knew you could both intrigue and fascinate me in your own odd little way, and how I needed somebody like you." Ciri let out a sigh, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I told you that I've had lovers before, haven't I? Galahad and Hjalmar excited me… Mistle… well that's its own separate matter. But you just have something that they don't. You seem willing to follow whatever road life takes you down. They wouldn't have come here, or would have demanded we go back as soon as something spooked them. But you still managed to follow me."

Jon couldn't find words to respond with. He felt stunned almost, hearing all of that, and it was a lot to take in.

Fortunately, a different barista had finished their drinks just then. "Jon and Ciri," he announced, "Faur Latte and Mocha."

They rose in unison, and went over to the end of the counter, where the drinks had been set. Both were the same size, and had the queer perfection that so many different things seemed to have in this world. For a second, Jon thought that they were glass, because it was transparent, but that wasn't the case, as he found out while he grabbed one. Since Ciri had grabbed the darker one, Jon figured that meant the lighter one was his, though the cup didn't have a glassy texture. It was softer, flexible, and seemed to bend a little bit around his grip.

"Tsk, she spelled my name wrong," Ciri muttered as they were walking back to the couch. "Why does everyone think my name starts with an S?"

"Ciri, C-I-R-I?"

"Yup," she said. "Did they spell yours right?"

Jon had to search for his name on the drink, but after a few seconds, he found it. John. "No," he said, "they put an H in my name."

"Ah well naturally. Most people named Jon spell it J-O-H-N."

"Not in my world, they don't," he told her.

"See, now you're beginning to get it," she said, cracking a slight smile.

"That I said my world?"

"Oh yes," Ciri said, smiling a little wider. Her smile was a pretty one, displaying a mixture of confidence, satisfaction and warmth that sometimes was hard to get a sense of when interacting with her.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself," he told her, as they sat down.

"Hmm… try it, Jon," she said, glancing at the drink in his hand. "Seems the barista must have taken some ah… liberties with your order, because she gave you something else than what I told her to give you."

Nervously, he lifted the cup up to his mouth. When he drank, his mouth was flooded by a sudden mixture of sweet sugar and bitterness, and another odd taste too. Milk perhaps. It tasted good, though he still had to stop abruptly. "It's good," he said, once he had swallowed the sip.

"Yes… I should have also mentioned that everything in more advanced worlds gets engineered to taste much better than the stuff we normally were eating. Dr. Dover actually told me a bit about it, how restaurants and food companies put all these things into their food to make it taste better."

"Like this?" Jon asked. Most of the time his options for drink were water or some kind of alcohol.

"Oh… these are just sugar," she said, nonchalantly. "Most drinks are, apparently, which is how they taste so good." She paused for a second. "And to being a couple." She raised her cup a little bit, like for a toast.

Jon raised his cup too, then they both drank.

Once that was done, he had his own question to ask. "Being a couple… that means being boyfriend and girlfriend, right?" he asked.

"Well… yes," Ciri said.

"You said boyfriend and girlfriend are like being betrothed, didn't you?"

"Mmm… not exactly. That would be like… engaged. Fiancé is the word that you would call them, and then husband or wife, or spouse in a non-gendered way. Boyfriends and girlfriends aren't committed to marriage, but in a romantic relationship. They might not be very customary in our worlds, but there's usually old stories that seem to idolize these types of relationships… fairy tales, you know."

"Right…" he said vacantly. "So now that's us?"

"I don't see any reason why not," Ciri said. She pointed through the window in the back of the store. "You want to go on some roller coasters after this?"

Jon looked carefully through the window. At first things seemed ordinary enough, with some odd structures. Then he saw the weird misshapen cars that seemed to be flying around on those odd structures. He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no," he muttered, "not a chance." Even if those roller coasters had ways of ensuring safety, Jon couldn't fathom doing that.

Ciri stood up from the couch. "Well, come along then, lover-boy. There's more to explore, you know."

The more to explore involved a whole lot of clothes shopping, as it turned out. Ciri led him through the complex ring of stores that seemed to encircle the roller coaster area of the mall, where usually it was some clothes that could be found. She found several different outfits for herself, and some for him. There were dog clothes even, though all of them looked much too small for Ghost to ever possibly wear, as he pointed out when Ciri said she was hoping to maybe find something that he would look good in.

It wasn't only clothes though. At one point, Ciri stopped a bookstore and bought several, telling Jon how in more advanced societies, they had the ability to produce books in greater quantities than in the ones they had lived in. They also bought this strange food called ice cream, which caused his head to hurt while he was eating it. There was a photobooth, which took highly accurate and vivid pictures of them, creating a detailed portrait within seconds, that blew his mind away, as Ciri let him put several pictures of them into his wallet, and kept a few for herself. Finally, they ate dinner at a place called Castillo's, where they got to have more food that was nothing at all like he was used to.

Once they had paid and were leaving, Ciri pulled him aside, to a little corner, like she was trying to hide with him.

"What's wrong?" Jon whispered.

"Nothing," she replied, also whispering. "I was just going to ask if you would be alright if I portaled you."

He was confused now. "Why?"

"Well… there's one place here that we could see that nobody else does," she said with a slight grin. "And it's easier to build up tolerance with a smaller jump than with a bigger jump."

"Ah… fine," he said.

Ciri immediately grabbed his arm and teleported him without warning. But this time, it was different. He didn't feel so completely disoriented like when she had brought him to the world of Tessina in the first place. In fact, he felt completely calm and fine, and within a couple of seconds, he was able to identify exactly where they were. They were on the roof of the mall. It was nighttime now, and the stars were out.

She set her bags down, and then sat down. "I didn't actually think it would be this beautiful."

"How come?" Jon said, setting his bags down next to hers, and then sitting down beside her.

"Cities make it harder to see the stars. All the light here… you can't see them. At least not normally. But the doctor said they were actually very visible here, at least on clear days, so I wanted to see it for myself."

"And me?" Jon asked.

She gave him a kiss. "Well… I wanted us to have a chance to try something new too." She reached down into the bags, and pulled out a blanket that he didn't remember them buying earlier. "Come on, Snow."

You must not balk, he thought to himself, as Ciri spread the blanket. But she did not immediately undress. Instead, she laid down on the blanket and encouraged him to do the same, staring up at the stars above.

"Before we go back to your world, Jon, I have one last job I want to resolve."

Jon was confused. "Why do we need to do it before?"

"Several reasons, chiefly the fact that I would like to stay in your world for as long as possible. At least… assuming I'm able to," she explained. "I must admit I am also curious to see how you do in a lower stakes situation."

So it's a test. "Alright," he said.

Ciri pulled off her jacket, and then turned towards Jon. "And… how would you feel about entertaining a few more of my curiosities now, lover boy?"

He put a pair of fingers around the bottom of her shirt, and gently pulled it up, revealing a little bit of her stomach. "I think I might just do it."

Author Notes:

Good lord my search history while looking up references for this chapter. Also, if you should take away something from any of this, please just be respectful when fast food workers ask if you're using the mobile app or if you're picking up a mobile order. Don't be a butt about it.

Thanks for reading!