Jocelyn moved quickly through the halls of Winterfell, the cool stone beneath her feet doing little to calm the heat still lingering on her skin. The weight of what had just happened—of what almost happened—pressed down on her chest.

She found Mira outside her own chambers, standing with her back against the wooden door, arms crossed, eyes staring at the floor. Jocelyn slowed her steps, hesitating before speaking.

"Mira."

Mira looked up, her expression guarded. "I don't need to hear an explanation, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn exhaled, stepping closer. "I wasn't going to make excuses. But I do want to talk."

Mira let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Talk? About what? How you made me think there was something between us, only to run straight into Robb Stark's bed?"

Jocelyn flinched. "Mira, that's not fair. I never—" She paused, inhaling deeply before trying again. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Mira studied her, something unreadable flickering in her gaze. "But you knew, didn't you?"

Jocelyn swallowed hard.

"You knew I cared about you," Mira continued, her voice quiet but firm. "And maybe you didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you let me hope. Even if it was only for a second."

Guilt twisted in Jocelyn's stomach. "I—"

Mira shook her head, cutting her off. "And that's what hurts the most. Because I thought you might feel the same way. But I was just… another question you needed to answer for yourself."

Jocelyn felt the sting of the words deep in her chest. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" Mira scoffed, pushing off the door. "You were confused. And I was convenient."

Jocelyn's throat tightened. "Mira, please don't say that."

Mira exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "You're my friend, Jocelyn. And I care about you. But I need some time."

Jocelyn felt her heart sink. "I understand."

Mira gave her one last, lingering look before turning and disappearing into her chambers, the door shutting softly behind her.

Jocelyn stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, her hands clenched at her sides. She had made her choice. She knew what she wanted.

But in the process, she had lost something else.

And she didn't know if she could ever get it back.

A month had passed, and Winterfell carried on as it always did—steady, unshaken, as if nothing had changed. But for Jocelyn, everything had changed.

The first snowfall of the season had settled over the castle, blanketing the stone walls in pristine white. The air was crisp, the sky a pale shade of gray. She stood on the battlements, wrapped in her cloak, watching as the courtyard bustled below.

She should have felt peace. She should have felt secure in the choice she had made.

And yet, the guilt lingered.

Mira still spoke to her, but something between them had shifted. The easy comfort, the lingering warmth of their friendship—it was strained now, reduced to polite conversations and careful distance.

She missed her.

But she had chosen Robb. And Robb had chosen her.

Their relationship had grown stronger over the past month, built on shared moments—late-night conversations by the fire, whispered laughter in empty hallways, stolen kisses when no one was watching. He made her feel safe, wanted, and for the first time in her life, she belonged to no one but herself.

Still, Jon was distant.

He never confronted her about it again, but his absence spoke volumes. He had buried whatever he felt, pushed it down the way he always did, retreating into himself. He was still kind, still Jon, but he was no longer hers.

And that hurt more than she had expected.

A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"You'll freeze if you stand out here too long."

She turned to find Robb approaching, his blue eyes bright even against the dull gray sky. He wore his usual furs, a sword strapped to his hip, looking every inch the future Lord of Winterfell.

Jocelyn managed a smile as he reached her side. "I'm used to the cold."

Robb smirked. "Even so." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. His warmth was immediate, grounding. "What are you thinking about?"

She hesitated before answering. "Everything."

Robb sighed. "You still feel guilty."

Jocelyn exhaled. "I hurt Mira. I lost Jon. I don't regret choosing you, but…" She trailed off, staring at the snow-covered courtyard below. "It cost me things I wasn't ready to lose."

Robb was quiet for a moment before pressing a kiss to her temple. "Jon will come around," he said. "He's stubborn, but he won't let this keep him away forever."

"And Mira?"

Robb hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know."

Jocelyn closed her eyes briefly. "Neither do I."

He tightened his hold on her. "But you don't regret us?"

Jocelyn looked up at him, reaching for his hand. "No."

Robb studied her, searching her face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he smiled—genuine, warm, hers.

"Then that's enough," he said.

She wanted to believe him.

And maybe, one day, she would.

The godswood was quiet, the freshly fallen snow muffling every sound. The red leaves of the weirwood tree stood stark against the gray sky, the carved face watching over the sacred space as if it knew the weight of the moment.

Jocelyn had come here for peace, but instead, she found Jon.

He stood near the tree, his cloak wrapped tightly around him, his gray eyes fixed on the frozen ground. She hesitated at first, unsure if she should approach—if he even wanted her to. But then Jon lifted his gaze, meeting hers with something softer than she expected.

"I was hoping you'd come," he said quietly.

Jocelyn stepped forward, her heart pounding. "Mira told me you were looking for me."

Jon nodded, exhaling slowly. "I wanted to see you before I left."

Her breath hitched. "Left?"

Jon's expression was unreadable. "I'm going to the Wall."

The words hit her like a blow to the chest. "No," she whispered. "Jon, you can't."

He offered a small, almost sad smile. "It's already decided."

Jocelyn shook her head, stepping closer. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to throw your life away."

Jon's jaw tightened. "I'm not throwing it away, Jocelyn. I don't belong here."

Tears stung her eyes. "Yes, you do."

Jon reached for her hand then, squeezing it lightly before pulling away. "You made your choice," he said softly. "And I've made mine."

Jocelyn felt her throat tighten, her heart breaking in ways she hadn't expected. "Jon, please. If this is because of me—"

"It's not," Jon interrupted. Then, softer, "Not entirely."

She swallowed hard.

"This was always going to be my path," Jon continued. "And maybe… maybe this is what I need. A fresh start."

Jocelyn felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Then let me come with you."

Jon chuckled, shaking his head. "You'd never survive the cold."

She let out a broken laugh, but it faded quickly. "I don't want to lose you."

Jon reached up, brushing the tear from her cheek with a gentleness that nearly shattered her. "You won't," he murmured. "I'll write. And maybe, when winter passes, we'll see each other again."

She nodded, but it didn't make it any easier. "Promise me."

Jon's lips quirked into a faint smile. "I promise."

She threw her arms around him then, burying her face in his shoulder as more tears spilled free. Jon held her tightly, his grip steady, strong, familiar.

"I'll miss you," she whispered.

Jon pressed a lingering kiss to her hair. "I'll miss you, too."

When they finally pulled apart, Jon stepped back first. He offered one last, lingering look before turning and walking away.

Jocelyn stood there, watching him disappear beyond the trees, her heart aching with every step he took.

He was gone.

And nothing felt the same.

⸻

That Night: Robb's Chambers

Jocelyn didn't remember how she got there. All she knew was that by the time the sun had set, she was in Robb's room, his arms wrapped around her as she sobbed into his chest.

He didn't ask questions, didn't press her for answers. He simply held her, his fingers brushing through her hair, his lips pressing soft kisses against her temple.

"He's gone," she murmured against him, her voice hoarse. "Jon's really gone."

Robb exhaled, his grip tightening. "I know."

Jocelyn sniffled, pulling back just enough to look at him. His blue eyes were filled with concern, but there was something else—something deeper, something unshakable.

"You're not alone," Robb said, his voice steady. "Not now, not ever."

Jocelyn's lower lip trembled. "Then don't let go."

"I won't," Robb promised.

And then he kissed her—slow, deep, full of warmth and understanding.

That night, he didn't ask for anything more. He simply let her fall asleep in his arms, his body wrapped around hers, his presence a shield against the ache in her heart.

Jon was gone.

But Robb was here.

And for now, that was enough.