Little sister don't you worry about a thing today
Take the heat from the sun
Little sister
I know that everything is not ok
But you're like honey on my tongue

True love never can be rent
But only true love can keep beauty innocent

It was with despair that he sat before the fire and took notice of how many times he had thought about her over the years. Every time he saw a woman, every time he slept with a woman or even thought of something that brought him happiness, it was her face that he remembered. There was a mysterious irony in the air. Something told Jon that this was the point where he had to choose between two paths.

Or else live the rest of his days hoping that life was gentle with her, while he kept his feelings, or accept his inheritance. His dragon blood, his throne, his crown and mostly his feelings for her, at the risk of ruining the only thing that was worthy in his world. There were no more easy choices to make. His life was now made of ice, steel and fire.

No more there was a "little sister". The days kept on passing as he caught himself admiring her figure, her silhouette against the fire. She was slender with smooth curves, her face as solemn and pale as the North and eyes as grey as the steel and the wolf of House Stark. She did not have a striking beauty however there was something in her… something in the manner she walked, something in her steady gestures and something even in the way that all the severity and coldness in her face seemed to melt when she allowed her lips to curve in a smile.

Sometimes she would whisper stories to her younger brother. She would tell to Rickon and to him only the "adventures" she lived in distant places. Stories about how she freed the mans of the North when they were arrested in Harenhall, about how she fought against the man of Gregor Clegane, about how she ended up in Braavos and how she learned important things about a dance. The Water Dance, was the name she gave when she was practicing with a sword on her hand.

It was beautiful to watch when she would wield the sword moving smoothly and lightly. It was not similar to the style that Jon and the others Stark had learned from Rodrick Casel, they have learned the crude and vile style of the North. Her style was something more refined, more honorable and elegant. Somehow it suited her feminine features. He had observed fascinated by the similarity between her movements and the ones of a cat.

A part of him sensed that Arya was softening the stories she told Rickon and Bran, maybe avoiding they to worry much. Jon knew her to well to believe in this mask she was using, even though she was struggling to keep it, trying hard to make everyone think she was all right. Now her eyes were hard, now she would rarely smile and her hand would touch the hilt of her sword too often, almost like a natural instinct.

Before she smelled like summer and liked to play small pranks. Before she would hug and kiss him when he did something that pleased her. Now she smelled like winter, clean and cold. Now she would sneak among the shadows, observing more and talking less. Now she avoided physical contact and would never kiss him for any reason whatsoever. Jon missed those kisses in the same way he missed her smile and her restless spirit.

What he knew about her now? They had spent many years apart from each other and then she was just a little stubborn girl. She was now a grown woman, or at least she look as if she was one. What did he knew about the woman Arya Stark? The voices of Melisandre and Ygritte seemed to save him from the trouble of finding out. "You know nothing, Jon Snow". And he could not even disagree.

He should have been a better brother, more present in her life. He should have defended their home, he should have fought for Robb, he should… He should have protected her and allowing Arya to live her youth in a mildly way, to live her youth as if every day were summer days. On the other hand she would not have thanked him not without saying first that risk himself to protect her was something stupid. After she would have hugged him and everything between them would be fine again.

Instead he opted for the black and destine made a point of personally tell Jon Snow that he had made the wrong choice. Even a bastard has his place in the world and now there was a good number of people willing to rise their arms and fight for him, for the Stark and Targaryen blood he had in his veins. "The blood of a king has power". He should have listened to Maester Aemon when he had the chance. He should have heard him, his… great-uncle.

Now everything turned around him with an overwhelming intensity, almost insane and he tried the best he could to deal with the banners in the best possible way, but… No, he was not a lord, that was never his part. It was Robb and Bran's part. Jon was the bastard, a renegade, a son without mother, not a king. Even though he once had dreamed fervently with glory, he would never be a king.

I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman
No I could never take a chance
'Cos I could never understand
The mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman

He threw his head back, leaning against the chair he was seated, fire dancing before him in a mysterious way. Seductive flames made the wood crack and he let himself to wonder and loose himself amidst the profusion of warm colors. Fire… fire was part of him as much as ice. The image he stared made he remember of Arya fighting with her sword.

She was water, she was ice, she was all he could not have. Everything he could not even dream of having. So close and yet so far from his reach.

It was with despair and anguish that he realized that he loved her in a way that he not fully understood, but he knew it was definitely not how one should love a sister. How much more easier would it be if he saw her like the little girl she once was, rather than having to deal with the woman she has become along with all that mysterious distance they had between them now.

Ghost was nestling in a corner by the fire. Jon thought that being a giant wolf should be easier than being a man. For Ghost there was no crown, a throne and so many doubts. For Ghost there was only hunting and a cave or some other warm place to rest, to get him warm again. Jon liked to dream that he was a wolf. The choices in the dreams were always easier to make.

- Your Grace seems to be needing this – the sudden voice broke his line of thought. Jon turned sideways and found Arya offering him a cup of steaming wine.

He reached his hand aiming to take the cup offered and ended up touching her hand in his attempt. No more than one second must have passed when her hand seemed to slip through his fingers, as birds flee from cages or how water leaks through the smallest fissures.

-So besides fighting with swords you also read minds? – He flung her a friendly smile – Thanks for the wine. – She tilted her head in a slight bow.

- You are welcome, Your Grace. – the voice had a tone of defiance that he considered quite offensive.

- Couldn't you… couldn't you at least call me by my name? – He questioned seriously – I was not born for titles and my lady knows that as well as me.

- Am I a Lady now? I think, Your Grace, that the world has completely lost its axis. – She retorted seriously. Jon could not contain his laugh.

- You were born for this, my gentle lady. Even though you have never enjoyed the duties and obligations of being a lady, you were born and bound to it. – He said quietly – It is your rightful place, beside with the titles, pledges and coats of arms. It was not mine rightful place thou little sister.

She walked towards the fireplace. Her silhouette against the light was perfected by the fire's exotic dance. She appeared to be coming out of the flames, like one of the Red Woman visions. Arya was exactly that, a vision one he could never touch.

- I have been in the court once. All is very dull when you need to please every person in the room and act like the others say you should act only because it the right thing to do. - she said holding her hands to the warmth that came from the fire. Jon took a sip of the wine she brought. – You will feel it yourself one day. At least that's what they say.

- My lovely Lady will help me survive this at least, won't she? – He asked in a light tone. The wine seemed to caress his insides and the heat he felt inside was pleasant.

- Me? In a court again? – she glanced in his direction – I would never put my feet in that place again. I can help you take the capital, but as soon as possible, I will come back to Winterfell. – That was a rough negative. The certainty that she would leave him eventually made him uncomfortable.

- So that's it. – He gulped all the wine at once – You will help the North to put a crown on my head and then turn your back at me when I will really need help. – Jon got up from his chair, left the cup above the side table and walked towards her – You cannot trust anyone in this world. Not even in your own blood.

- We both know that I would never survive in a court. It is not my home. – She replied seriously. Jon touched her hand again.

- Not even if the king asked you in person? – He argued. Arya did not move his hand away and he hold her hand tighter – Please. With or without support it will be a demanding task, but then I would feel much better if I knew that you would be around.

- My father once heard a similar request. – She said almost in a whisper – We know how that story ends.

- This time it will be different. – He assured. – this time everything will be different.

- What would I be in court? Your Hand? Part of your Small Council? A Master of Whispers? Or a general perhaps? – She stared at him. Fifteen years old and she stared at him with the same force that Cersei had shown once. Cersei was gold while Arya was silver and steel as noble as lethal.

- The most important Lady of the court. My right arm. My most trusted friend. – He said seriously and quietly in a way only he could do.

- I think that is the role of a queen. – She said looking into his eyes – The gods knows that I am no such a thing. I was not born for wearing jewelry and dresses nor to live in palaces and obey the proper rules of etiquette. Your wife would also be quite jealous knowing that your cousin was so important. No, Jon. My place is here.

He reached her hair with his hands. The locks fall around her face in short and rebellious waves framing her face. Jon pulled one lock away placing it behind one of Arya's ears. His hand brushing her cheek almost in an accident.

- I will miss you. –He said in nostalgic tone. Arya lowered her face and then walked away.

Now there was always a grave and obscure distance between them. It was almost like a game that Jon did not know the rules to play, or maybe a dance that they would dance blind. Dancing and blindly groping the walls, bumping into secrets, finding closed doors and feeling one against the other. Or maybe it could be just a maze and Jon could be just lost inside it.

- Do not say these kind of things. – She said, turning her back to him. – There is still time and a war to be finished. Until then, there is no need to remind us of that day.

- Let me correct my previous statement then. – He walked towards her reaching to hold her hand again – I still miss you.

- You are no longer making sense at this point, Jon Snow. – She said, staring right into his eyes and fixing her gaze on his scar.

- I miss seeing you smile. I miss the time when you smelled of summer and hugged me. – He said quiet. – Why will you not hug me anymore, Arya? What happened during this time?

- I am no longer a little girl, Jon. – She replied. He wrapped his arm around her waist and faintly Jon hugged her, but she… She could be a beautiful statue just as the sculpture of Lyanna that lived in the crypt.

- I am well aware of that. – He replied in a whisper – And I must say that a woman can embrace a man much better than a little girl can hug a boy. – He grabbed her neck then running his fingers through her skin feeling her warmth. – I just want to hold you. That is all I ever want.

- What do you want me to do then? – She asked allowing he to hold her.

- Hold me back. – He answered. Arya threw her arms around his neck and he was so tall that she practically had to stand on her tiptoes to be able to hug him properly.

Jon ran his hand through her hair, messing them even more feeling the dark threads slide between his fingers. It was comforting to know that she loved him, even if it was just like her half-brother. He would live in that limbo. He would live with the idea that this, that this feeling would last forever, even if he could have no more than that.

You can run from love
And if it's really love it will find you
Catch you by the heel
But you can't be numb for love
The only pain is to feel nothing at all
How can I hurt when I'm holding you?

I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman

- Why make things more difficult? – She whispered more to herself than to him. Jon was tracing the outline of her neck with his fingertips.

- You have never made them easier either, cousin. – He replied also in a whisper.

- I thought I was your "little sister" – She said, making him feel how she was putting distance between the two of them. Jon squeezed his arms around her.

- That does not sound about right. Not now. – He said touching her face carefully, keeping an eye for her reactions trying to find a way to prevent her from moving away again.

-Things were a lot easier when I was just your "little sister" – she said with a sad look in her eyes – Now everything is so complicated. There are kingdoms, crowns, thrones, alliances and wars to consider. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

- We are not children anymore. I think that's what people call maturity. – He answered.

- Bran want me to marry some lord soon. He didn't told me so, but I know that's what he wants the same way as I know that if I don't marry anyone you will suffer with lack of allies. – She said sadly. – I took so long to return so long to find you again, I do not want to leave, I do not want to say goodbye again.

For the first time in years he saw tears swell in her eyes. She was always so strong and resistant to any kind of mishap. Seeing her so fragile, seeing her crying was alarming. In that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that from happening.

Jon dried her tears with his fingers. He kissed her forehead stroking her face.

- I may not be your blood brother, but that does not mean I do not care about what happens to you. – He said trying to calm her - Bran will not do that if I ask him to save you from a situation like this. Alliances can be formed by others means.

- This would be the easier way thou. – She replied.

- I will not accept it thou. If I am a king as they say, that should at least come with some privileges, such as deciding about the marriage of my own cousin. – He said calmly – If marriage is not what you desire I will not give you to anyone. If Bran insist, then I will take you to the Tower of Joy and put you under my own protection.

- Like your father did… -she whispered – Maybe you are a dragon indeed. – he suddenly remembered that she was a wolf maiden. Life can be truly ironic sometimes.

- I can take care of you in the capital, if you want. It will not take long now. King's Landing is weakened and will soon be conquered and then everything will be over. Come with me. – He offered. The prospect of calmer times with her by his side was too appealing to be dismissed so easily.

- Still aiming to make me a lady? - She arched an eyebrow in response.

- If I had that intention I would never have given you a sword when you had only nine years old. – He smiled at her – I would try to turn you into a warrior first, as Queen Nymeria.

- A warrior perhaps but hardly a queen. – She said and once again tried to pull away from his embrace.

This time he let her depart from his arms. He observed her walking towards the fire again, always facing the fire. Jon thought about Rhaegar, his late father, thought about how he had found his ruin falling in love with a woman so similar to the one he was observing now, as the one he now desired.

Lyanna was the "Queen of Love and Beauty", the only tittle that this destructive feeling had ever given her. People said that Arya had too much of Lyanna inside her maybe that was true. Jon would rather believe that his cousin was made of stronger material. Woman like Arya, could bring a king to squander his kingdom, could cause wars and could even bring peace to an entire country. Their inheritance was much more significant than they could ever imagine.

And you're the one, there's no-one else
You make me want to lose myself
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman
Brown eyed girl across the street
On rue Saint Divine
I thought this is the one for me
But she was already mine
You were already mine...

- Sometimes I think you were born to wear armor and crowns at least more than me. – He said.

- I would prefer wearing armor. – She said staring at him above her shoulder. Silence falling once more time upon them like a veil.

It was a game as delicate as the game of thrones and Jon had no idea how he could win that turn. He closed his eyes for a moment breathing deeply. He waited for her to say something, but it seems that the conversation was over now. It was frustrating to see her slip through his fingers and it was even more frustrating not be able to say what he wanted to say more than anything else.

- What are you thinking? – He asked in an fable attempt to restore their conversation. Arya did not turn to face him.

_ I am trying to understand what You Grace wants from this conversation – Arya replied.

He realized then that maybe she knew what he felt. He did not knew how thou maybe it was by instinct, intuition or any other kind of feminine charm. Arya probably felt that something between them could no longer be the same way as it were before and that was probably why she kept her distance. He closed his eyes again and asked the gods that this would not be the end of all.

- Is it wrong of me to want your presence in the capital when we take King's Landing? – he asking trying to change the subject – I think I will have few friends over there, if I have any friend at all. At least I know that I can trust you.

- I am sorry if I said something that annoyed you. - She said shrugging lightly – It was not my intention. It's just that… I do not know. You seems to be different now.

- I also cannot tell you are the same Arya I left behind six years ago. –He approached her again and in a sneaky move took hold of her hand – I think we have become strangers to one another but that does not mean we cannot have confidence between us. Does My Lady consider me an enemy? – She stared at him shocked.

- Of course I do not! – She replied strongly – This is ridiculous! And stop talking with me like we are in public. I like titles as much as you.

- How should I treat you then? – He asked lifting her chin so she could face him – You are no longer my "little sister", you are not a Lady and you are not my cousin. Tell me, Arya. What I am to you? Because do not know any longer.

She did not say anything. She kept her silence once again to making him despair a bit more. If she had no more words he just had enough of keeping his words to himself. The distance between them decreased, at least physically while Jon leaned towards her.

If they did not know what they were to each other anymore, so maybe they were simply a man and a woman with all the implications that it brought. They were just a man and a woman, nothing more, nothing less.

Their lips touched in a time that seemed to be an eternity. She had her eyes closed, and so had he. A leap of faith and they suddenly were in one another's arms pretending to forget the rest of the world. They would think about this later. In that moment they only knew each other.

Air was leaving their lungs effortlessly while they felt the taste of each other impregnating their mouths. Finally they detached. Heads spinning wildly with thousands of theories, assumptions and excuses if only any of them were able to formulate a proper sentence.

She placed her hand over her lips her wide eyes were staring at him. Jon could see the panic and confusion crawling up her face. He himself were in shock, unable to believe in what he had just done. Of all the careless attitudes he could commit, of all of the irresponsible and reprehensible actions he ever committed in his life, none of them seemed so terrible as the one he just had done.

He was so convinced that she knew what he was feeling. So sure that all she was doing was to test his limits and now he was about to lose her forever. To lose the only thing he truly loved.

- I better go. – She whispered turning her back to him. Without thinking twice, Jon grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving the room.

Jon could feel her racing pulse against his hand. His heart also seemed to be beating inside his throat and think seemed to be an impossible quest. All he knew was that if he let her go out from that door she would never return. Not that keep her here would make such a difference either.

- Wait. – He said almost in a whisper. Arya turned to face him and her face was unreadable.

- I think that there is nothing left to be said. Let me go before it all gets even worse. – She asked closing his eyes. Jon did not release her.

- Not without an explanation. - He retort.

- Explain? Explain, what? – She paused for a moment – Let's not ruin all with unnecessary words. We are fine this way, Jon. Without any words.

- So I will not say unnecessary words. – He answered – And you will not try to avoid me.

- I'm not avoiding you. - She said rigidly.

- So stay here. - He said seriously.

- Is that an order? - She asked with challenging eyes.

- No. This is a deal. - Jon said - no unnecessary words, no running away.

- Why you keep insisting that I am running away! – She was angry – Seven Hells! Why would I run? You are my brother!

- I am not and maybe this is the fact that you are trying to escape. – Jon released her hand – We are not siblings.

- So say what we are!

- I cannot. You asked me not to ruin all with unnecessary words and that is exactly what I intend to do. – She stared at him with a confused and puzzled expression. Both were breathing hard and their breaths echoed in the silence of the room. They were walking on eggs, just waiting to see who would be the first one to break.

- Stop with those damn riddles! I am sick of it! – She practically screamed. It was the first crack and he had no hopes of saving something from the middle of the hurricane. Jon pulled her again.

- So keep in mind that this is your request. - And once again he kissed her.

Little sister
I've been sleeping in the street again
Like a stray dog
Little sister
I've been trying to feel complete again
But you're gone and so is God
The soul needs beauty for a soul mate
When the soul wants... the soul waits ...

Their lips collapsed in a much more clumsy and rougher than the first time, but Jon was pleased to see that she responded almost instantaneously. Arya gripped him by the hair of his neck he answered by pulling her tightly by the waist keeping their bodies fixed together.

She did not try to push him away again. Her hands sought for him in an earnest and almost desperate response to his touches. The taste was strong and had a metallic and sweet touch. Honey and steel in lips that were used to the taste of blood lost in the battlefield. For countless moments she felt safe and he felt at home.

It was her fingers that took the initiative to untie the knots and undo the buttons of his clothes. Jon led her blindly to the bed, making her sit on it. The thick robe he was wearing fell on the ground alongside with his white shirt. The fire kept cracking in the fireplace, but Jon was more interested in the heat that was hidden beneath her heavy clothes.

His finger worked quickly untying the bonds of the rustic dresses she only wore because of Bran's insistence. She parted her legs for him to catch her rapidly and before Arya could even realize half of her dress was torn in a single pull.

She closed her eyes as she felt his mouth against her hot skin, sucking it, licking it, nibbling the newly discovered parts leaving marks everywhere. It was a wolf marking his territory and all she could do was repay with the same kindness.

His callused hands touched her everywhere, firm and determined to pull every trace of air out of her lungs. At the same time Arya slid her fingers through his abdomen and trough his back, getting to know with every muscle of his body intimately feeling his breath get heavier against her neck.

With a sudden urgency he got rid of the rest of her dress throwing it away. She laid naked in the middle of the bed. Jon paused for a moment, watching her small and slender figure, her skin as white as alabaster. He lifted one of her legs, kissing her feet, her ankle, the inside of her leg slowly rising to her inner thigh.

Arya grabbed him by the hair again, barely remembering to take a breath her thoughts completely blurred. She felt his tongue in the hidden point between her legs, causing her to yelp releasing a groan. Jon was tasting her, licking and sucking while he tried to force two fingers inside her. She tasted blood as she bit her lower lip, her back arched as his fingers started to move in a fluid motion finding a rhythm.

He wrenched a moan out of her as he tasted her pleasure invading his mouth. Satisfied with her reaction he drew back allowing her to recover her breath before he went to kiss her again.

Arya's hands went down to his belt unbuckling it, untying the knots that held his the pants he was wearing. Jon mentally thanked the newfound freedom while she slides his pants to the floor gliding her hands through his firm tights making him chill.

He was taken aback by the sensation of being enveloped by her mouth. Her tongue teased him as Arya accepted him full rubbing her teeth lightly against his sensitive skin. Jon lost all lines of thought as he felt her sucking him toughly. He grasped her by the hair of her neck pulling her back from him, pushing her to the bed.

Arya stared at him with a confuse expression not understanding his attitude. Jon parted her legs, trying to settle in a comfortable position. He grabbed a pillow from the bed placing her hips above it keeping her knees bent.

- I don't want you to finish me that way. – He whispered hoarsely very close to her ear – I'm not looking for an easy release.

- So show me that you know where to put it. - She said holding him in one of her hands and guiding him towards her hot and humid entrance.

He pulled her hand away as he allowed himself to plunge into her heat. Arya closed her eyes responding to his moves, forcing his way until the end. Jon took a moment to regain control before resuming his movements. He dragged her chin so she could face him in the eye.

He wanted to look at her at that moment, to be able to see how he was giving her the same pleasure he was seeking. Arya was breathing hard as if there was not enough air in the world to meet her needs. She bit her lip trying to contain the most embarrassing noises contemplating the vision of his body moving with the fluidity of a serpent.

Their pace was getting faster the thrusts stronger. The sound of flesh colliding against flesh, their breathing coming in short waves. Her legs were entangling his hips until that last movement when she rolled her eyes and let a long moan escape her. Something in the back of his mind recognized it as a distant howl and soon he surrendered as well.

The hot liquid invaded her, dripping between her legs as she felt the weight of his body fall over her. The shortness of their breaths, their hearts beating hard all tangled within the feeling that they were now complete.

They were now without dark distances, without running away, without puzzles or excuses. They were a man and a woman. Jon and Arya. Not brothers, nor cousins, nor nobles, nor bastards or legitimates. At that moment, they would define themselves as lovers.

She kissed his face pushing the sucked by sweat strands of hair out from his forehead. Jon rolled to the side relieving her of his weight, still embracing her by the waist. He kissed her mouth again.

- I thought you dread the idea of sire a bastard. – She whispered in a distant tone. Jon scowled in response.

- I won't do that. – He said seriously.

- But it can happen. – She replied defensively.

- I may just have put a child in you, but it will not be a bastard. – He said seriously facing her straight in the eyes – I do not think that Bran will oppose the idea.

- I did not accept to marry you. - She answered.

- A yes at this point is an unnecessary word. – He said making her laugh in response – I would like to hear you say it thou. Just to make sure I have not lost you once and for all.

- Yes - she replied.

- This also means that you will go with me to the court and become my queen. Everything you always repudiated. – he looked into her eyes.

- These were unnecessary words but since you said it… - Arya muttered – I guess not all can be perfect.

Mentally he disagreed with her opinion. Having her in his arms was perfection itself or the closest perfect would ever be. He thought of declaring all the things that were trapped inside of him. Every repressed feeling alongside all the passion he felt but Arya had already closed her eyes and was wheezing slightly. He would not disturb her peace with unnecessary words mainly because he was sure she already knew everything.

No I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman
For love and faith and sex and fear
And all the things that keep us here
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman
How can I hurt when I'm holding you?

Note: This is another translation and there will be more of them soon. I hope you enjoy this one. Again, I own nothing and have no profit from my fic's. The song I chose is A Man and a Woman, from U2.

Bee