CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"I'm intrigued Beth, how does my husband look at me then?" Arya asked the girl. They were playing cyvasse, or more accurately, chatting their way while pretending to play cyvasse.

"I just wish my husband would still look at me like that. You are devilish lucky Daena."

"I don't feel that lucky, not lately at least. Look at me in a foul quest to beat you in cyvase"

"You know what they say, luck in games and bad luck in love."

"Wasn't that the other way around?"

"Not for me"

What Beth didn't know was just how the last few months have been. It has all been difficult, to say the least. The pain, the suffering, and the endless tears. That cut stabbing feeling of her heart strings snatching. Everything that was out of place, in the world, with them, with herself. All the looking for things to make herself busy so she didn't need to face the silence.

Chataya told her time and time again that are things that are just not meant to be. That the loss transforms us, it builds strengths that we didn't believe we could hold. It's hard to believe that time would make it better even when it does. Her friend told her it was a process, but it was unbelievable hard. She discovered that healing was long and painful and that was days when everything would be fine and days when nothing would be fine and everything would seem to have been sucked down by darkness and pain. Like there was no such thing as happiness and that shining concept was now tainted forever, almost as when there was a cold shadow in a sunny day. Except that this shadow dragged her down, swallowed her.

The fact is she didn't know how to turn back to the person she was used to seeing reflected back at her. First was her body that refuses to stop hurting, to stop bleeding, to fight over the fever, nausea that came with every dizziness spell. She bled for days with that deep cramp that would sometimes hurt so much that she felt that her body would rip apart. With a fever so hot that the cold water would hurt her skin, and with a sickness so deep that she couldn't eat or drink or consume anything at all. Then was the memories, the unfading vision of that little being that was Jon and herself and now a pain she didn't even realize she could feel. The memories were like a nightmare she had over and over again. It was like walking down known corridors and suddenly realizing that someone that she should have known, that she should find there was now missing.

She couldn't help but notice just how strange that feeling was because you shouldn't love someone you didn't know. Someone that you didn't see. Someone that you were waiting to meet and wasn't coming anymore. It didn't really matter that people told her she was young and others would come. It still hurt.

Chataya told her time made it better, she told her that the sinking feeling would be gone and she would feel more like herself again. Jon would hold her when she cried at night, but she would worry about him, about his silence and the strained way she would sometimes see when he looked at the distance. She waited for the time where she wouldn't cry at every little piece of thing that reminded her of the gone love. Maybe time could heal and with time she would not feel that way again, but for that to happen she still needed time, one that she didn't think she had. She hoped time would make Jon better too she wished that time could take out the crease between his eyebrows when he looked at her.

As weeks have gone by the unchanging pain and the fever on her body started to fade, and now was almost completely gone. The endless pain that would leave her eyes watery and her chest heavy were still there, but time made the tears thinner, the crying shorter. Even if she would still bite her tongue as the disappointment joined with the guilt, because it didn't really matter what people told her, she still felt guilty. She felt guilty for so many things, but mostly for feeling like a failure, to herself, to Jon, to that unnamed baby that turned into blood and pain and loss… and that unbelievable sadness. Guilty for not being able to change the time and nature itself to change what happened. How disgustingly weak was she, to be such a failure.

There was also the emptiness that took hold of her, in the most strange way. All with the fact that her body seemed to be still there, at that moment, holding on to that little life. Not many people helped, but Chataya did and Jon did even if he would not talk about it, and even if she would catch him crying sometimes.

For a long time, she couldn't help but cry, for that unknown person whose face changed often. She would dream of that person with Jon's face and sometimes with Bran's face and sometimes with baby Rickon face. She would cry then because she was so sorry for something she didn't know how to apologize to. That gut-wrenching pain that was her soreness for not being able to protect that existence that she had just recognized and hers, sorry for leaving him lost and alone because she would sometimes be convinced that she should have followed him, protected him.

Never before she tested her fate so much, just to convince herself that her baby was not alone and lost and in need of someone to take care of him. She tried to remember that the Forest had him now that the Gods could be cruel to them, but the spirits turn back to being stardust and are welcomed at the Gods home.

Time passed painfully slowly and as Chataya suggested she started focusing herself in other things, new and old. Sometimes she would dream with the name that never was and sometimes there would be another unknown person whose name she never heard before. A name that was as hot as flames, burnt and gone, like the voice that would say that sacrifices are sometimes necessities and not choices. She couldn't agree with it, she wanted to reply that if one could not choose then it would not be a sacrifice at all, only unnecessary pain. Sacrifices are choices, it was the choice to offer that made it a valid thing. Why would be different in any other way? The offer would make it valid.

Sometimes she wanted to stab the voice that would whisper that name that never was and tell him, never again. Then beg, because she wanted to know that name, but the voice would be gone. That voice left her with the nagging feeling that whatever happened to her little love was very wrong, she wanted explanations and answers, she wanted a reason as to why he was gone. Why has he gone so soon? So much before his time, so much before she could let him go.

There were no such things as answers, though. Chataya would tell her "that somethings are not meant to happen" and the midwife that would come time and time again to tell her that sometimes the babies have to go back and we can't do anything else. The midwife would also tell her that she would live, and her body would not wither and die in fever sickness than she would tell her to rejoice because she was able to create that sparkle once and would be again… but rejoice was a concept faraway and distant.

Too soon for her not to feel guilty about it, she would catch herself smiling. Talking made it bearable, she had a hard solid piece of ice in the place of a heartstring now, a string that would sometimes vibrate with all the sadness in the world, but the wound didn't fester. A sort of acceptance over the fact that we cannot change the past would make her keep walking, and that was it. An unspoken pain that would always be carried, but could not sweep her away.

She was reconstructing her life in some form that could be called normal, in every single aspect except for the one that would always remain with a barb, a stain in the happiness she would feel. Happiness that was strange and would catch her surprised every time, like she had forgotten how to laugh and was now surprised at the very sound of her body smiling.

She accepted that for a while she was not herself and on some level that she was not going to be the person she used to be. She accepted that fever and sorrow are a strong combination for making all that is wrong with the world more present than the good.

Then when the guilt and disappointment began to fade, there was another feeling that would still draw her, and that was fear one even bigger than the one she felt at Winterfell one day a lifetime before.

Because since the fateful day where the gods told them "no", many things have happened, whispers and tears were exchanged, but something didn't. She understood that first was she, the wound too fresh to feel physically attracted to someone. Maybe it was both of them, she wasn't sure.

In the first few months, she would wake only with the tears of the bone-deep loss, that would bathe her face in the dampness of his chest. The salty stream carving caverns that only grief could flow, digging her bones while she slept, shaping her in this now touched by loss and pain person.

Healing was such a slow process, there were better days and unbearable days. There were days when life passed normally if only slowly and there were days that were fast and busy and she could just sleep, to tired to think in anything else. Then there were the other days, when getting out of bed was impossible and she just wanted to curve in ball and stay hidden in blankets until the sun withered in the horizon and she could wander at the garden or just obsessed over the feeling, or the anger or the frustration.

Then after it, when the tears got thinner, she felt the distance first one that she felt in the core of her heart. Because that distance caused the fear, the questions. What if he despised her now? What if he could see the failure that she was? What if now he saw he needed someone who was able to give him what she could not? What if he did not want her anymore? What if he was disgusted by her? What if the flames between them turned into ashes on his body? What then?

The doubts, this endless cycle of questioning ourselves, she would feel tired of asking questions she didn't know the answers. He would hold her at nights and kiss her lips softly, and caress her hair, but would he ever want her again? Another thing to obsess over, she thought, why nobody wrote a book about feelings? Or maybe they did and she just didn't know about it.

Was she wrong? Was she an evil person for longing his touch? If he wasn't disgusted by her before, would he be now if he knew that she wanted him, again? Was she a hypocrite? Because she sometimes wouldn't want him at all, and then sometimes she would. Where was the line that made her feelings ok or wrong? Was it ok? Was it wrong? Was she a bad mother? Was she a mother at all? Did she still qualified as a mother if her baby wasn't alive anymore? Would she count as one child? When closure would be a real thing? Or could she never really go on? And when would it be ok for her to kiss him, have him and try again. Because if she was afraid before, there was a certainty inside her that said that one day, not now, and not for sometime but it will be a day when she will wish to be a mother again. She knew that, she just didn't know when or if she should try again or take precautions if she had the courage to come back and give in to the pull of her body.

It was something that crawled into her skin and run inside her veins, he would hold her and she would miss the power on his hands the fierceness of his kiss, the taste of his tongue. The fast beat if his heart singing alongside hers. To have him again, to touch the person that was the love she lost and the love that stayed. But… how could she feel that? How could she tell him that? How could she ask him that? What would he think of her? Would he think her weird? Unsensible? Unfit to be a mother? To be a woman? And just how she ended up like this? She had never thought about having kids or a family not really… not until she a Jon run away and then there was this fleeting feeling inside her head that still had a maybe written over her brain. Now… there were another question. And others that spoke about insecurities and inabilities like what would she do if she had a girl? She couldn't confine the pour thin to needlework forever, but then it was not like sword fighting and archery were very feminine choices to a girl, right?

They came to Bravos to do something different, Chataya told her they should try to "learn from the past to focus on the future" and that traveling is a good way to stop focusing on yourself. That's why she and Jon were sent away in this trading mission of sorts. To uncovered unknown lands and find new places.

And akin to the waves that would grow only to break into the bravosi shores, Arya would slowly feel it again, the burning want for him, and sometimes she would awake in a fierce joy, body aching for his touch, for the paths of joys his hands could make while her body remembered what was like to feel pleasure again. Almost like she was made of water and was icing cold and in deep need of his heat.

The problem was that she couldn't tell him that. She just wasn't able to tell him that she was ready, that she was ready for him, that she need him again. That she would sometimes be soaking wet by the very vision of his abdomen and the flexions of his arms. Jon didn't seem ready, he would cuddle her at night and trace light patterns on her back if she cried or light patterns at her hair for her to sleep when sleep didn't want to come, but he would not touch her, not like before at least. He would wake up and work and came back with the same sadness mixed with resignation look in his features.

Besides that, how could she? How could she ever tell him that? How could she even mention it to him? How could she mention it for anyone? How could she feel this way after all? How could she face the look on his face if she tells him? How could he ever want her like that again? Would she ever be anything else than a painful reminder of what she couldn't do for them?

The mission also meant they would have very little time for themselves in the firsts weeks. Jon would pass half of the day negotiating with big, sometimes bald man's and she would be free to wander the city and find them the best food. And that would be it, except for when they had to deal with the Iron Bank. Because for some unknown reason, Jon would ask her to take negotiations with the bank on her hands and if she asked he would say he hated the "devilish green haired man" that was responsible for their trading.

Although in a side note she just have to admit that the food here. By the gods, the food here was spicy in a whole new way and so amazingly good. So sometimes just for fun she would wander around the city looking for the best places to make Jon eat some of it. His face was terrible hilarious when he got all reddish over the peppers.

Of course, that the days that didn't include bravosi bankers meant very little to do with her afternoons. Also, it meant too much time to feel guilty about wanting her husband again. She took the habit of writing little pieces of thoughts, and more than ever she missed reading Jon's words. He had a soothing way with words and she was seriously curious about what was filling his notebooks lately. She confesses that many of this free afternoons were passed looking for his notebooks… Because truth be told even though she could draw like any noble proper girl she really didn't like it that much. She was curious about some string instrument she had never seen before. But really she was not so into it. And that was why she passed so many time scavenging for Jon's notebooks… like a play of some sorts. At least before she met Beth.

Beth was on the colorful trend of hair, clothes and whatever she could put her hands on. They became instant friends after saving a shells sailor from a very drunk and very rude unworthy of the space he uses to live, sailor. What about some men and the inability of understanding a proper no,right?

Both of them truly believing he will consider not attacking girls anymore, at least while the injury from the brick Beth throw in his head healed over. Or at least if he did value his balls because Arya was fairly sure her dirk made an impression of sorts.

So for these last few weeks, Arya and Beth were doing quite a lot of friendly meeting things. First Beth took Arya to get to know Bravos. Beth knew all histories (or at least was very good at inventing some) and carry Arya along as she talked about the city.

They took many boats and got to know the city and its surroundings while they talked and listened to each other. It was fun to see that all Gods had space in Bravos. After living all her life between the Old Gods and the Seven it was kind of fascinating to see so many beliefs put on together. Also the most impressive thing was how "civil" they were with other religion since it was rare to see a confront between people of different things.

There were strange rituals like the Red God ones that put huge fires in the street and then had the very mysterious ones where people entered and went out very quietly like the House of Black and White. She hoped to understand most of them someday.

It was in one of those boats rides that Arya told Beth about the "runaway to get marry" thing, and Beth told her the "I used to be a courtesan before getting married" thing and both of them were very much amused by each other stories.

On one hand, Beth would giggle senseless when Arya told her things like what happened at the crypts and drunk Robb almost catching them, while Beth would sometimes shock Arya with details that Arya thought not even Ros would know about.

Beth was more than often impressed by the "completely naiveness and innocence" at bodily functions and relationships that Arya had. So most often then not Beth would say something along the lines of "I don't believe you people don't discuss this and that" followed by "how do you guys live like that". As for instance, Beth was fully shocked by the fact that no one mentioned the woman's "little deaths" and passed a whole lot of time laughing when Arya told her that she didn't even think she was normal to feel it. That was one of the things she promised to never share with Jon, what if he knew? Would he laugh of her too? If she could, she would definitely tell her mother and Mordane (specially Mordane) to never telling her nothing about sex.

Truth be told Arya couldn't do much to contest her friend, if in Winterfell people didn't discuss anything related to sex at least among unmarried girls, Beth was from a culture where everyone was very much informed on what you should expect. Also if Arya was being honest she would find very informative some "secrets" Beth told her. There were medicines and potions for everything it seemed. If she felt pain there was a potion to ease her cramps to make her flow heavier or lighter and many other things. Much more than moon tea, there were things to make it easier to have a baby and things to make it more difficult to have one. All this tricks and teas, and medicines that she never had heard before.

Nonetheless, Beth could sense that something was out of place, Arya really didn't know how she knew it, but she definitely did. Her friend would comment things or ask things and soon stop as if she was pondering on how much she could go on.

Today they were at Beth's place, one that would surely leave some of the wealthiest westori green with envy. It was a place full of a greenery that was totally absent from the rest of the city. It was, by all means, a very rich part of the city close to the Purple Harbor, one that sometimes would make Arya question what job Beth's husband really did.

So this day was just one of the usual days they passed together. Jon was doing Gods know what with the whole crew with him and she and Beth were playing cyvasse as usual.

Although, they were not really playing. The cyvasse worked more like an excuse to get together to talk, to make projects, to pass time mostly. Arya did expect to have another pleasant and calm afternoon with Beth, maybe finally sorting out a date to visit the Temples that spring around Bravos.

No such luck apparently. Since Arya felt that Beth decided it was about time to address the "evident" problem regarding her "romantic" life. The conclusion that Arya got after getting some strong hints from her friend. Phrases like "your dark brooding cute little one shouldn't spend all his time at the docks" and "that cute little one you choose for husband why is he not with you getting caught in some voyage frisson" and plenty others.

If she must admit she would say that she was dodging the subject for days already. Why didn't Beth get that hint?

It was not really a problem of sharing something with Beth, they have discussed plenty of the "difficult" subjects. It was a problem of speaking. She didn't feel quite ready to share the problem with someone else. The problem mostly consists in the compelling and bloody convincing way Beth could get hold of information. Beth digs out problems and secrets from you as her mother dig out lies and pranks from Arya and her siblings.

Beth was too damn cunning and way more effective than Arya would have believed at first, except that sometimes she would notice that somewhere along her talks she had slipped a lot of tiny information to Beth. The woman could be a spy or something, such was her power of finding out other secrets, or just making assumptions that prove to be right later on.

So despite Arya's efforts on maintaining her private life, you know…. private. In the long game of things, Beth was winning by a fair margin. That's why all of Arya's alerts went fully on when Beth asked why Jon was ever so busy again.

Also, she seemed to be put on a corner. She has fought and avoided this subjects so much that now it was hard to face it. To admit that there was a problem, that for months she didn't long for her husband and now she kind of did. Kind of, because she was still uncertain if she was able if she would ever be able again.

That feeling was only increased by the fear the dreadful feeling that she could pass through this again. Only now she was getting used to the fact that her body healed. That herself was healing. Slowly sure, but in a step by step kind of the way things were getting better. As she has thought before… healing was a very slow process one that needed time and was not only physical.

It's funny because as much as she didn't want to discuss the subject with anyone she knew that Beth had helped, more than she may know. Many times her friend would say something that would just mend some broken thing inside of her. She remembers when they visited one of the brothels were Beth have worked. There was a girl that have been beaten up and had "gave up life". Beth words were so encouraging then. So full of power, reminding the girl that we have to let the bad things wash away from us like the water washes away the dirt. Even if it was not for her, Arya felt comforted by hearing that things often take a bad turn and even then we are still deserving of great things.

Beth excused herself from finding someone to bring them beverages, and Arya just stood there on the balcony staring at the river that was part of this city and the back of the Titan that was always watching the open sea. And for that moment she could remember herself past the pain. She could almost taste the want for adventure, for change and for Jon pulsing in her veins. She could face her father now if she could because now she had known the pain and no pain or problem would ever be the same again.

She blinked and the moment was gone even though the feeling lingered. So when Beth put the trail down. She asked her to sit, and she told what was bothering her and what was paining her for so long.

Then Beth told her to go at some place with her and she went.

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If someone has told him almost one year ago that things would change so much and so drastically Robb wouldn't have believed at all. To be honest he would probably laugh at the person so hard that his eyes would water.

Who would believe in such a thing anyway? The Starks the ever loyal servants of the Crown for years, personal friends with the Late King Robert, the most solemn, serious, austere family in Westeros (not the he agree with this one, people just didn't know about the awful jokes his dad did but going on)… were actually, traitors. Traitors! Traitors to the motherfucking crown! AND he it's not even considering that tiny fact he found out… yeah the Starks? Not only traitors, but conspirators as well. Secretly housing the heir of the Targaryen family. He didn't know how he was going to handle that one though…. Very hard since everything he said turned more or less in "the Lannisters are the true traitors! Kill them!" even when he was not exactly saying that… like at all.

Facts can't be denied though. Even though he wished that all of this was a big bad joke. Fact was his dad was murdered as a traitor of the Crown, not by the actual treason, but for a bad move in the never-ending game of thrones. Fact two was that his little brother was barely walking, possessed by pains that no doctor seemed to understand not to say heal. Fact three was that he had entered a war because not only was his dad killed, but his sister it's being used as a pawn to force his hand and he wasn't having any of it. Fact four his other little sister remained "lost" and he was actually glad for that, because if it wasn't for the word "lost" he would have to deal with fact five publicly… that his half-brother wasn't his brother after all but heir to the family the present crown defeated with his family help in the last war… not only that but he seemed to follow his father appreciation for the Stark girls he also had the same idea about going wild and fucking disappearing with the Stark girl, that in this case was his sister and Jon's cousin. Oh yeah and the worse fact of all was fact five… his mother still didn't know the truth about Arya disappearing and Jon's actual parentage.

Nothing out of ordinary. You know normal things in the great game of intrigues… when you were tossed in the middle of a game you didn't really wanted to play. It didn't actually matter that Robb never wanted or ever thoughted that he would be the one facing the Crown, broken old alliances, etc. He Always thought that something like that happen it wouldn't he him… it would be someone better. Someone like his father.

Fact was he was not ready to handle fact four. His brother the legitimate successor of Prince Rhaegar and probably the rightful king to be… gone. Married to his little sister the possible queen to be. Who would have guessed that? Hm? His shy, brooding as fuck, pessimist all so serious brother heir to one of the most infamous prince of Westeros? Just the image of Jon in the infamous black armour with the rubies encrusted on it, telling the world that he was a Targaryen prince, royal from two of the most important families in the continent. HOW could this image fit his brother?

Although maybe he could admit that if he thought about the "fame" that Prince Rhaegar carried with his harp playing, then Robb could admit that he could feel the familiarity. He wonders if that was where Jon first got his lyric calling. Robb knew even thought Jon would never admit it, that he had those secret little books that he could spend some precious hours suspiciously writing it. So it had that… and the preference for black clothes… he should probably ask Jon to put something more starkish in his colours if he ever saw him again that it.

Oh and BLESS THE SEVEN AND THE OLD GODS that people out of the North at least, didn't know that his little sister the probable queen to be? Was not queenly. Not a bit. She was more like a wild, I-will-rip-out-your-skull-out-with-a-sword type of lady. He could totally picture Arya sitting with a big dress, calmly knitting a piece of cloth laughing with her ladies in waiting about flowers arrangements and things like that…. Not. Westeros didn't fully like Cersei and she was the image of a beautiful queen, even when she was kind of evil she was still a perfect picture of a queen… how in the name of the Seven would this people handle his racing in the back of a horse and fighting swords sister as a queen he didn't know.

Ohh and let's not forget the cherry of the absurdity in his life… The tiny little fact that he, Robb was now no more or less than King of the North. And please don't ask him how he ended up like that because sometimes he still thinks he is dreaming or having a nightmare. More as a nightmare he concluded. When he was battled worn and slept he still hold that tiny hope that he would wake up in his bedroom… not that he had this luck.

Winterfell was his to command and apparently, all the North followed his lead, seeking for vengeance and justice and blood. When the news first arrived, telling him about his father and sister he was appalled. The news had the power to bring him fury and sorrow. Who would have thought that he would say "call the banners" and everyone would really listen? He thought it people would be like "Robb calm down, you can't go to war like that" and shit. But oh no people were all "yeah war. Let's fucking do it! You lead!"

He wasn't going to lie, he thought about the treaty… it was nice and you know a escape but that bloody stick up his ass boy king demanded a peace treaty shaming his sister, and that was the end of that. He heard the terms and had to choose between kneeling in accordance, shaming his sister or war. So maybe it was the fury and the sorrow that moved his hand, maybe it was still the pain of the loss of his siblings, maybe was the confusion that took over him when he first found out the truth about his family. He didn't exactly know what it was, but he chose war and war came with the weight of a crown, the north rising and an army. And he amazingly in the command of it all. In a side note he just have to say that crowns are heavy as fuck! Now he knows why kings are often annoyed, serious, and why all his armours have to came with a "this is the King, please shoot here" symbol? Who was the genius behind that idea? HMMM?

The North remembers they said, and they surely did, all the years the North have stayed with their knees bent weren't enough to cripple them and make them old and fragile. The North raised with taking the dust from their folded banners (and apparently a great amount of revenge feeling). When the peace treaty actually came they were already on the march, the full-of-himself boy king messengers run very fast in the other direction, it was kind of funny he admitted.

Of course that if anyone asked Robb, he would say that the North memory is kind of selective. Because the North surely remembered the years of bended knees, but they also conveniently forgot that not four months before he was considered just a green boy, that shouldn't rule alone! He would like very much if anyone bother to remember that tiny fact sometimes. Because "no" he didn't "just knew" what to do when one of his loyal subjects decided to start a feld over a goat. Sevens! He didn't even know that goats could make such a big mess around them. Of course that Robb knew that there was no one else to lead the North, he was the rightful heir, he should rule, but part of him couldn't help to consider why he was considered green to rule like weeks ago but fit to fight?

Truth be told, he thought he would be long dead by now. Battles were fucking scary things, even if he could put down his fear to fight. He didn't expect to be here at all. He thought he would loose, that the battle would be over and the shame would fall upon his name, but that (amazingly) didn't happen. Luck followed him like the red star followed the sun over the months. He had won battle after battle. He defeated armies, and now even the Lannister called him by the nickname his army gave him. He was the Young Wolf, and he and Grey Wind seemed to be blessed by the gods. Except in his heart… in his heart he was not the Young Wolf Robb Stark King in the North, he was just "I miss my old life Robb" also how the fuck he got so many titles at once?

For some trick by done by the Old Gods, he lifted the siege at Riverrun winning a battle over Jaime Lannister. He was purplish all over, and all his body hurt and stung but he have won defeated the Gold Knight and that not only brought him a ton of new allies but also had the power to boost his esteem a bit. Maybe he did listen to all those strategic classes. Maybe, the many years he spent recreating battles with Jon and Theon served for something. If he could defeat Jaime bloody Lannister, maybe, just maybe he wasn't so bad, right? Maybe he would came back home alive?

There was something that Robb was fundamentally wrong in his beliefs, though. He thought that winning meant to be able to rest a bit, but that was definitely not how things worked. Winning brought a whole lot of things to do. And he surely didn't know how much an army could eat when they marched somewhere. In case you are wondering… it's a fucking lot.

Also, he needed more allies, and that was why he just send Theon back to Pike before going back to Winterfell, and his mother would be on her way to meet the remaining Baratheon brothers. Curious note… both brothers declared themselves kings and Robb wasn't sure if they would accept the North alliance, because the North wouldn't be part of the Seven Kingdoms anymore, etc, etc. They will have to be content being the Six Kingdoms and that's it.

He looked to his side, caressing the bare arch of Dacey's back, he should sleep, it felt he didn't sleep for days and now he actually had a bed to sleep on. Sleep in the other hand was having a great time on eluding him. Every time he tried he was plagued by another thought. Yesterday was the fact he surely felt as he was seeing the world with Grey Wind eyes like he was the one that bite that archer's arm and not like he was feet away sending soldiers to their flanks. A weird thought, that he tried his best to sent away because that was enough strange things in his life already. And the rule was if he was too ashamed to tell Dacey then he should avoid it.

Today what chased his sleep away was Dacey, and that should mean he would be peaceful regarding all the days they spent together doing… things. But nooo, no such luck for kings. He was thinking he should have married her already. He should have asked her already. Now he lost this chance. Because how could he ask her to marry him when his mother had laid such a careless pledge with the Frey's? Sure that had granted him passage over the Twins, but at the same time, it meant he was not the free man he was before. The costs weren't too great when he put like that?

The same thought came over and over. He should have married her before leaving Winterfell. He should have followed Jon's example of all and right now over the uncertainty of what the future hold. He should have told her that, before when there were no marriage promises over his head and she could have sure he hadn't anything to do with it.

All the conversations they had, late at night, dirty from dirt and blood. Dacey was there when he found out, she knew the Starks betrayed one of the closest friends. And she was there to understand when he said that he had no idea of how a king should be, that he felt lost most of the time and that he surely hated to be looked on as an example. He was no example, he was barely more than a green boy, why people kept coming to hear his opinion was beyond him.

Lately, he was feeling more and more like Jon what he honestly thought was the most disturbing thing that ever with him. He would wonder if Jon was the most happier man now, all smiles living somewhere with Arya. He wonders if Arya lost her boyish grin, if she was a normal housewife or if she still hated to do girly things. Would they have changed?

He thought he had heard steps. That was one of the problems a king had. The problem of never being able to leave his rooms without been seen heard and followed. He thought the attention was bad when he was Lord of the North… he had no freaking idea. Being king was like ten times worse.

Surely a bit later his mother was in the room because mothers don't see the necessity of knocking it seems, not even when their child's turn to be kings and such. She blushed and went out of the room with a look that clearly said, we need to talk.

The truth is that they surely did need to talk, he barely had any free time until now, his mother joined him still in the battlefield, he hasn't told her yet. She didn't know about the father, Arya, and Jon and all the others live affected by this tale. All the five facts of this new life remained untold. He looked at the figure at his side and remember there was six facts after all. Sixth fact of Robb Stark life, he was in love with Dacey Mormont and she might as well be pregnant by now AND his mother still didn't know.

All she knew is that her two daughters were missing, her husband was dead, her son was king, her other son is ill, and she was planning weddings. It would be such a long night, wouldn't it? He stepped out.

"What are you doing Robb? You are engaged!"

"That's exactly why you should have asked me if I wanted to be engaged!" he answered nervously and he saw the surprise in his mother eyes. He never did talk back, not to her at least, he was always the good one, the one rarely was punished. The one that always try to see the right and good side, and honestly he was tired of even that. He didn't wanted to fight, but he had a feeling a deep feeling that his mother wouldn't take the news that well. He remember something of when he was very little it was barely a memory at all but he remembered listening his mother tell a history a history about how she accepted Jon… and even though she said that even Robb couldn't deny that sometimes his mother failed at being the best person she could around Jon. Especially after Arya, if Robb could say something.

He didn't want to have this conversation. Really. If he could delegate this to any of his servants he would surely consider. It was so many things, and most of them were so hard to speak out loud. "Mom, sit down. We need to talk"

"Will you tell me why are you sleeping around? Will you tell me why that bastard stole my child? Why you let him?" she asked. Robb heaved… it was going to be the long night he thought it would. "Will you tell me why you did nothing?" she went on.

"Mother don't speak like that. Seriously" the look she gave him, meant he was in trouble and that she couldn't find a single reason not to speak like that. Well if she wanted to play it like that then he would bring the heavy stuff first on… "The first thing you need to know is that Dad did betrayed uncle Robert" that seemed to have gotten her attention. Robb smiled. Then he started to tell his mother all he have found out.

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Do something with his hands was strangely soothing. In a strange way being busy with the boats was a way to keep his thoughts together. It was tiring, that he could not deny but at the same time it was somehow relaxing, maybe it was the feeling of being useful.

The feeling of doing something, of helping, of doing something that he could. He often feels lost right now, like he should go and ask some teacher how he could fix it. That's why he felt accomplished by the little tasks he did.

The day was often spent in the ship, fixing the many problems it accumulates during their trip. They had to clean the ship hull and at the afternoons he spent training. Jon was learning that the bravest and the lorathi had a totally different way of strategy. It was fun to learn with them, even when he often ended more beat up than he would like to admit.

Probably because he wanted to have a purpose in life. Something that made Arya admire him, and not ever think of him as an incapable man that couldn't even protect his own family. He needed a trade, an occupation. Something far away from the war lessons he learned in Winterfell, he needed something peaceful and calm but mostly steady. So he could tell her, that they could try again. That they could try to build their family again, with peace and with the sense that they would not be depending on anyone but themselves.

He wanted a normal life, but the major problem remained. Could they ever be normal? Could they ever live like that? Sometimes news traveled from Westeros and the news would catch their ears and they would be worried or curious to hear more. To find out what happened to their family. What were they doing? How mad are they with them?

The other problem was that no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't always act like normal people. Sometimes the way both of them grew up would make some eyebrows go up. It was the way they would speak he thought. Something they have grown so accustomed with that now it could not be easily shed away.

Jon believed they could change, though. He believes in buying a home for themselves and live there happily forever with a bunch of children or without any like Chataya and De'Lor. Although he did wish to be a dad again… someday. Maybe a house in Lorath or even here in Bravos. Or maybe they could really travel all the free cities, explore them all even the hard ones to get. It would be an adventure surely and he missed spending a really long time just holding Arya between his thighs, feeling nothing more than her warmth and the horse pace.

He did notice that Arya was smiling more and he took it as a good sign. So maybe he could talk with her about traveling. Even if first he should tell her the strange rumors he was hearing about Father, something was not right in King's Landing as it appear, but he couldn't find more details since most of the ships arriving were coming from the North and the history they told was about the "lost Stark girl" the one that was probably kidnaped by the bastard of Winterfell. The gossip had the power to put a grin on his face whenever he heard them, but at least it was not that bad. Along with all the kidnapping, he would come across the most amazing piece of information. One that was creating many conspiracy theories among the sailors. Robb hadn't sent a search party after them, it appeared and that detail alone was the most puzzling piece of information he got.

If everyone that shared that gossip was curious about the lack of action of the Young Wolf regarding his sister, Jon was more than curious to find out if Robb was just too mad to handle them or if he could be bold enough to hope… could Robb have forgiven them? He ached with the want of reaching out to his brother. Of course, he couldn't and wouldn't. He hasn't even approached the subject directly with Arya yet. He wanted to give her time, to mourn their loss properly, to heal and for that, he knew he should listen to De'lor words, "give her time" and so he did. Jon knew it was the right decision, to keep things that were not really that important to let her have her time, and it had paid off he decided. Her teeth were showing more in her smiles, and the smiles would come more often. She would touch him and smile, and not hold him to cry.

He had his own suffering, that sometimes would knock him out with sadness, and he would cry and take a moment and sometimes look fondly with a piece of sadness to some dark-haired kid that crossed his path. Nonetheless, his moments of sadness were much more easy to handle now.

Jon said goodbye to the other crew members, told Broden he would see him later and started to head to their place. Arya had pestered him all week about this party that her new friend was doing and she really really wanted to go. He couldn't care less for parties, partially because he didn't quite know how to handle himself among many people, but if Arya so wished then he could go.

Although he did believe that this time the whole drinking among strange people would be better since Broden would come to, so even if Arya went somewhere he wouldn't be totally alone. As he arrived he remembered that Arya had warned him that she would go to Beth's place to change herself, and he was really curious about the possibility of seeing his wife in bravosi clothes.

He did try to fix his hair in a way that didn't leave him looking like a total lost cause and when he thought that enough effort was done in the hair thing he put on the clothes Arya had left for him and eyed the piece suspiciously. Although it was not a bright color he still finds it much awkward to be dressed in such different manner than his usual attire.

He looked at Ghost and Nymeria before leaving, asked them if he was looking good and the received a little noise from Nymeria what in his opinion was a good sign as any.

He walked all his way to Beth's house, although he could hear the music coming from it a few streets from it. The house itself was a big thing and he wondered again how has Arya manage to find such a person in the street and defending little girls no less.

Everyone seemed to be really excited and he was already with a glass in his hand by the time he reached the room where Arya and Beth would be. His eyes caught her as soon as he entered the room such a sight she was. Just looking at her distracted a smile on her face made him remember all the things that made him love her and just like that all the suffering from the last few weeks were pushed from his mind. Arya was there smiling and he was glad.

Only at the second glance, he realizes that she was also beautiful. Colors did look awfully nice on her. She was wearing a deep red dress with a really deep (in his humble opinion) neckline. Just looking at her made him take a deeper breath. Should he get over it now? Seeing her as he saw her the first day he bothered to look? To really look?

There you are - she said, spotting him.

Come on Daeron we have being waiting for you for ages now - Beth, who Jon have seeing just a couple of times said. - Have you met my husband? Dilron - she said obviously trying to get her husband's attention -

No, I haven't - he answered - Hello Dilron, nice to meet you - he said to Dilron.

Were you also dragged to this party? My wife was adamant about the necessity of it. -

Now that you said, my wife was also quite insistent in coming here, maybe they have plotted something, don't you think? -

Probably. Since we don't have many choices we must celebrate don't you think Daeron? Here try out this wine here, it came from Norvos quite a treat.

I didn't know they made wine in Norvos.

They spent quite sometimes drinking and talking. Dilron was a very nice guy, the way he spoke made Jon think of all the days he spent talking with Robb, although he did admit that normally he listened more than he ever speaks.

The party members were really talkative and funny and when Broden arrived they all started a huge conversation, full of laughs and jokes. For Jon, this was one of the few times he was fully enjoying himself with so many people around. Honestly, he always had some difficulty in letting go all worry behind and enjoy himself, normally there was always a piece of his mind bugging him asking if other people were bothered by his presence or if he should talk this much.

Some time later when he was refilling his drink, Arya approached him whispering in his ear to go around with her. He smiled because if that did not bring memories of so many other parties in Winterfell nothing would.

They walked talking amenities, trying to hear themselves above the music. Then when they reached the gardens Arya pushed him, cornering him into a wall. Her kiss was slow and hot and Gods… all the blood in his veins suddenly burned. He kissed her fervently wishing to pass all the hotness he was feeling to her.

He is hyper aware of her gaze on his body, and he is flattered and excited to see that expression on her face the knowledge of being wanted is enough to make his pulse, he tries to clear his mind and think if any of this is reasonable. He was giving her time. Was it enough? Was she doing this because she wants to please him? The alcohol makes the clearing way too difficult, especially when his eyes see her nipples harden under her clothes.

"Jon" - she said breathily - "do you remember the game we said we would play when we left Winterfell? - she leaned in taking his earlobe in her mouth for a moment - "do you wanna play it?"

He swallowed, trying to convince his mouth to make words instead of soft moans - "I don't think I can form questions" - he manage making her feel just how hard he was.

"What if I started answering?" - she said softly.

"Shouldn't I make the questions, then?" he whispered while his hands were already caressing her back and her belly.

"No need really." - she said after a moan broke out from her lips. Jon thought that the sound of her moaning should be prohibited, he couldn't take it.

"Your tongue is ticklish but is a good tickle. Every time I feel it seems to fill up a pool of heat between my thighs" - she said and his heart pounded. Jon felt the beast inside of him stir, the same feeling that had made him kiss her the first time, the same feeling that made him take her. Flames licked the inside of his veins he wanted to take her, now. He wanted to part her legs and make her now how exactly ticklish his tongue could be.

"Arya…" - he started but his sentence got lost for a moment when she laid her hand on his chest and started going down. He felt the message being written by her fingers. She had done this before, and for once he wanted to just give in. "Mine," her hands said, running down his belly, "mine," they wrote when her hands went down his breeches, "mine," her hands said spreading the wetness of his tip around him.

He wasn't expecting it, but sooner than he thought possible his pants had dropped to his knees and she was taking him in her mouth. Her wonderful, soft, and sinful mouth. "Love… you shouldn't" he breathed out but he could hear the scoff sound she made. He tried for a moment to fight back, but the feeling was aggressive, he wanted this he wanted to pound deep and his hips wanted to send him deeper. He let her suck him deep. If she wanted to play that game so could he.

He takes her hair in his hand and gives a gentle pull, air comes hot through her nostrils tickling the base of him he smirks knowing that by the sound he just made she must have liked it. So he does it again, and she holds him in her mouth. Her tongue stops him and licks his tip. "Fuck," he says loudly, knowing that he lost a point or two. This game was always about endurance, about how much the other could take, until one of them could give in.

It's time to up his game again. "You shouldn't be so pretty with my cock in your mouth". He takes himself out of her mouth, noticing just how big and glossy her eyes looks. He has no words, really he just wants to take her again.

"Such a filthy mouth husband," she said, her eyes looking directly into his. He smirked "You will see how dirty I can get" he picked her up, making she stand while he sank to his knees, opening her legs until he caught the sweet smell of her. "I will make you tickle a lot wife, be prepared' he said as he dove his mouth on her insides, letting his face be bathed by the silver slithers off her center. She moaned, and he stopped for a moment just to tell her how sweet she was and enjoy the pink blush of her cheeks darken by his words.

Her fingers lightly scratched his face whenever he licked her, he felt her legs wobbling so he made her lean against the wall. He took one of her legs and placed it on his shoulders. Spreading her, so he could really reach that pink and hot nub that seemed to affect her so much. Soon he heard her mumbling his name, softly like a whisper her hands grabbing his hair, not pulling it exactly but holding him firmly.

Soon he heard a whimper coming from her, her legs gave out a bit and his face got covered by the sweet taste of her. He stayed a little longer, but she called him soon. He half cleaned his mouth before kissing her deeply. He was hard, really hard. He too was wet, he wanted to plunge himself inside of her, his body seeking her warm and dampness as his lungs seek for air.

His heart was pounding fast, he could feel the same beat growing below, Arya took deep breaths and he started to let her settle. Thinking they had gone this far and that was ok, he would need just a few more minutes to come back to "normal". Almost sensing his intentions, she grabbed him and the touch of her hand over the sensible skin was enough to make him almost moan.

He eyed her, trying to tell her it was ok for him to spot, that she didn't need to go all the way now. "Jon," she said in his ear "I miss it" and he felt her hand guiding him to her center "I want you" and the sound of her words was enough to make him shiver. It seemed that time was passing slow, because he registered every sensation of proximity between them, and when he was close enough to feel her wetness he let go a breath swearing that was something that pushed him to her.

Jon stopped and he saw Arya questioning gaze fixed on him. He opened her clothes exposing her chest, as he started to rub their peak with his hands. "Are you sure wife?" he asked even though his body was getting dangerously close to hers.

"Jon," she said in a breath "I want you again" and she moved close to him. "Arya," he said his body already between her thighs, his length sliding in her center. "Are you sure?" he was so close to that warmth that was getting harder to control the flames inside of him. She moved placing him exactly at her entrance, one push and he would be blissfully inside of her again. She kissed him "tell me, dear husband of mine, do you trust me?" she started to press on him and he felt himself sliding up inside her. Then he was in the forest again, rushing the green turning even greener, the wind rushing in his ears, blood pounding into his veins like storm winds. All the rush. All the feelings, all the letting go and acceptance of what he wanted. He didn't think of how the gods could strike him now because all that he could think was just how much he missed being inside of her. Her. His Arya. His love. His wife.

Gods, he couldn't take it. Not when she could say almost the exactly same thing she said when they first made love. He pushed himself, sliding in deeper. Gods are good, he missed her, he wanted this so much that his heart felt like a battle drum. The heat, the tightness… his memory was not even close to describing the sensation. She was so soft and he could feel the softness pour out of her in her moans, groans, in her deep breaths… he picked her legs up. Securing her against the wall. He took a moment to breathe, to find his pace, they were one again and by the gods was he happy.

Before he could manage to start moving, she wiggled her hips silently asking him. He opened his eyes focusing the woman he loved. "Want this?" he asked mockingly pushing himself forward, nestling every inch of him inside her silky walls. He caught her sigh in his mouth, forcing her mouth opened seeking for her tongue. He moved again, slowly pulling out of her grinning at the sight of her flushed face wrinkle in displeasing. She wanted him back inside of her fast, and he knew it.

He obliges sensing what she wanted. Having her against the wall made him able to free one hand. He placed his hands on her breasts and pushed it to his mouth. He sucked greedily at her nipples making her back arch in pleasure as she let half sobs out. "Do you wanna to keep up our game, wife?" he asked her before returning his mouth and tongue to her hard peaks, tugging, licking and sucking at them hungrily wishing he could make it hard for her to answer. He wanted her to be more than gone in the hot burning desire he had controlled for so long.

When he finally let go from one of her nipples she called him, waiting for his face to come near her so she could lick his lips, her fingers twining in his black strands of his hair. Then she sucked his lips and started to kiss him, fiercely, provocative. "Is it my time to ask then?" she said.

He smirked, taking her mouth in his again and sinking himself a bit faster inside of her. "Ask," he said. She smiled, "did you miss this?" she asked. He bucked his hips wildly, really fast, trying to convey just how much he did miss her, "Yes".

They tried to keep up their game, but doing anything more than breathing and kissing was too much. Forming words were too hard of a task. Both of them needed this, they have waited too much and now all they seemed to be able was be engulfed in the pleasure of each other body.

He could feel that his pelvic bone rammed against her nub in this position, and he knew that she was moments from reaching her peak, and so was he. Time had made him more aware of his strength, his pace and how much he can move inside of her. It was his most favorite thing to study how he could pleasure her more. And why not seek his own release while doing it? He thought half smirking.

Soon he thinks. Soon he will reach that abyss of her, he thinks. Feeling her clench around him, clamping him tighter and tighter. He picked up a pace, knowing that it would make her go over the edge soon. He wanted to feel her drawing before him. He wants to make him follow her and not the other way around. Her squeals are louder, her nails were digging the flash at his back and his scalp. Then he felt it her coming around him, the hotness inside of her getting even hotter, her walls trembling and cuddling him.

No more than a few seconds later he was the one groaning, pouring himself inside of her. After a few moments of gasping for breath, he let her legs down.

She was just as breathless as himself, but her insides were still sending shivers through his spine. He still felt like fire was growing and casting shadows in his soul, vast and senseless and wild. Flames that were the only thing that could burn him the flame of desire itself that was for so long hidden in the shadows of himself.

That's why he kissed her again, deeply. His hands firmly giving a soft twitch in her hair, she arched when he pulled it, exposing her neck. He licked her neck and kissed the narrow line near her ear. He could no longer hear the music or the chatter of the party, only the soft, vast susurration of the wind and the crackling of flames inside his veins. When has all the snow in him melt away? He wonders. When was it that all the coldness gave way to this burning feeling?

He was trying to find the words to tell her what he wanted. To tell her that he so desperately need more. Kissing her is like an obsession, a mad idea of never letting her go again. Then she kisses him back fiery, her response matching his obsession. He forgets it too often, he thinks. He keeps forgetting she is no shy insecure girl for ages now, never really was. He has this thing where he always painted himself as the one to blame for this, but he forgets that he kissed her, but she swallowed him whole.

It's hard not to remember though when somehow they end half naked in the grass and she is on top of him, mouth on his hand guiding him to her. He places his hands on her waist and there is a part of his mind noticing she seems to have a curve to her body that is new or so he thinks. He looks up trying to see catch her eyes but is momentarily lost by the sight of her breasts, they are bigger, aren't they? So he reaches for them, catching one gently in his hands, amazed at how the brush of his finger in the garden peaks makes her skip from the rhythm she settles. "What are you looking at?" she asked breathily. "You" he answers before sitting to flick his tongue over the breast he was holding, gently he starts to suck it and she moans loudly. Her fingers tangling his hair.

But now he is sure, her breasts are indeed bigger. She starts a harder pace and he is the one grinning and sighing. When he feels her getting tighter around him, he doesn't wait for her to push herself down, he goes up to meet her, she groans biting her lips and he grins because he so wanted that. He has finally lost it, he couldn't think of anything else besides her, she is his family she was always his family and now he just needs to prove it to her just how deep and how strong her feeling is. Loving her is what he was made to be it seems. Should lanterns shine? Should boats float? Should rain drops fall from the sky? Should Jon Snow love Arya Stark?

"I love you" he mutters, shifting their position yet again. He is not sure she had heard him, though. When she looks at him a smile is playing at her lips, their bodies are oddly familiar with each other it's like playing a game of prediction. She knows where to press him, where to kiss and where to scratch and he is amused to know where to touch her too.

He wanted to know how to draw so he could put her lines on ink and paper, her outlines for him to see every time he wanted, even when she was not around. He wanted to laugh at his own thought. Imagine a portrait of his beautiful wife, just like the one their father had of Lady Catelyn, but instead of full winter clothes, his Arya would be covered only with her insides clothes. He told her that while he rockets up his body to meet hers, the feeling of finding out her secrets was better than breaking the seas.

She laughs delightfully making fun of his wish to have a picture of her. Well, as long as he could take out her clothes who really cared? He moaned because the feeling of her around him was too much to take, especially when she was the one moving and getting him closer.

Bliss would soon overcome both of them. He knew it. He could feel the pleasure coming from his body and soul was soaked in wildfire and nothing would escape when the flame hit him. Then the flames touched him and his heart strings burst as his heart struggled to pump life into his veins.

"We should go back… I think" she said and he smirked. "Do you think people are starting to miss us?" he asked playfully.

"Well I'm pretty sure they already are," she said getting up and fixing her clothes. He did the same soon after.

Before going back for good he pulled her to him and kissed her one more time because if he couldn't put his feelings into words he might as well put them in actions.

Smiles was what Jon saw when they both re-entered the party, is not like he wasn't expecting some attention but he wasn't prepared. That was one of the moments when he realized he was, in fact, a very shy person sometimes, he didn't have Robb's ability to roll over jokes that made him embarrassed and that was why he was utterly thankful by how easy everyone was about them clearly disappearing.

After a while Arya was deeply involved in a discussion with Beth and he was soon drinking and talking with everybody again. Dillon called him and both of them resumed the topics they were discussing earlier.

They debated a long time about politics and the alleged unfairness of the bravosi harbors. Also, there was the matter of the Slavers Cities and how all the cities ignored the issue of slavery. That was when Dilron asked about the Beggar King and his sister.

You are Dana are from Westeros right? - Dilron asked.

Yes, we are. Why? - no matter how much Jon tried to act like a normal person the question still made him suspicious.

Quite a troublesome kingdom I think. Not the bravosi don't do treason and such but what is about a number of new kings… -

New kings? - Jon asked puzzled.

Oh, you probably haven't heard about it yet. Did you live near the capital? - Dilron asked then.

Not really. Me and Daena we are from the North. -

Ohh the winter land, I know. So you and Daena are yet another running couples from that lands? - Dilron said, clearly joking.

Running couple? - Jon tried his best to fake innocence, he already has heard all the rumors about the lost Stark girl.

Oh gosh, you sure are longing from the news. So first the really important ones if you wish. -

Sure. What happened in the old land? -

Oh, it was only rumored until some days ago. Apparently, King Robert died in a nasty hunting accident. I heard that from some of the Iron Bank devotees. They are more than pissed with the Westeros crown. So I do invite you and Daena to stay in Bravos at least until the debt is paid. - Dilron completed his sentence laughing and took a moment to fill up his and Jon's cup.

Anyway - Dilron continued - after the king died, his Hand and brothers all tried to scheme against the new King. I heard it was a nasty business…

Wait! - Jon interrupted Dilron - The King's Hand betrayed him? You mean Lord Stark? - Jon asked astonished, never in a million years would he think father would betray King Robert. He grew up hearing how friends both of them were and many and he really meant many histories from their old days.

YES! - Dilron exclaimed - That's the one, Lord Stark. Oh did you ever saw him? Living in the north and such? -

Still trying to make a sense of what he was hearing Jon tried his best to keep up the conversation - Yes…. I saw him once. His party passed by my home. -

So you should know more about the intrigues than I. - Dilron said.

I don't think so. We are away from Westeros for some time now. -

Oh well. People are saying he went half mad because of his little girl disappearing. - Dilron said and Jon felt a guilty pain… could this ever be truth? It didn't look like father to be half mad for anything… but… he thought… but they did betray all their family. Dilron went on - That one I'm sure you have heard, about right? The second Stark girl to get lost? -

Yeah. The sailors like to say that if she was also kidnapped the Starks should keep a better hold of their woman. - Jon responded.

Well, is less than 20 years? Since the Dragon Prince? Maybe people should look more what is with the Stark girls. - Dilron commented.

They are very pretty. - Jon said making a little inside joke as he eyed Arya that was overhearing the conversation. - I saw her once. The one that is missing, she was quite a sight. - he continued absorbing Arya's smirk and watching her start another topic with Beth and her friends.

Really? We only hear about the one that is supposed to marry the new king. If that is ever going to happen. - Dilron said with an odd expression.

Oh, I haven't finished, right? After the Hand was charged with treason King Joffrey made a public execution. The poor girl was there watching as her father was decapitated. -

All blood in Jon's body seemed to have rushed out his body and he felt faint. Was his father dead? Really? Is it possible? Does this mean that the last thought he had was about their escape? He couldn't possibly be dead. Not for treason, he would never betray Robert… Jon knew that he was sure of it. He felt tears aching up in his eyes and he tried his best to hold them.

Are you alright? - Dilron asked - Is the wine finally getting you? Please take a sip of water then, my friend.

I'm quite surprised with this news - Jon said when he recovered his features, he was used to holding himself from crying after all.

I think your old country is heading up to war. - Dilron said.

Really? - Jon managed to ask. Even though he was curious to learn what had happened with father and his family he also has the pressing need to run and be quiet with himself for a moment.

Yes. not only King's Robert brothers declared themselves kings, but lord Stark son was also named king of the North. King Joffrey already declared war, but I haven't heard of any fights yet. -

Lord Stark son was named King? Really? - Jon asked trying to imagine Robb as a king. For a moment he forgot how worrying the scenario Dilron was painting was concerning and only thought of how funny Robb must be right now. Knowing his brother, Jon knew that Robb must be freaking out right now.

Oh yes. They call him the Young Wolf. - Dilron said - And not only that but the Beggar King sister Daenarys Targaryen is claiming to have dragons with her. She caused quite a commotion in Qarth apparently. - he completed.

The Targaryens brother and sister? Are they still here? - Jon asked

Apparently is only the sister now. She married a dothraki and her brother died. Nobody knows what really happen but she arrived at Qarth claiming she had dragons. -

It seems like a fake history but it would be nice to see a dragon someday, I think - Jon said.

Before Dilron could continue Beth called their attention to some presentation that she organized. Jon thought about calling up Arya to tell her all the news he heard, but she had such a blissful expression on her face. She was so happy, he didn't want to ruin her night with bad news. So he decided to wait. Wait until the party was over to tell her.

For now, he could look the dancers and enjoy the music and the wine and pretend he was really Daeron visiting his friends with his lovely wife.

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Ghost woke up from a dream, not that he know it was a dream but it was misty and full of visions just like the ones he sometimes glimpsed in Jon's eyes. Visions of flames and ice and a very loud noise. The noise bothered him to the point of waking him up, it was very sharp, he could still feel the echo in his ears. He moved his head trying to make the eco go away and after a while it went.

He looked around and saw his pink friends sleeping. His Jon was peacefully covered by his mate, his black fur moving at his a bit with as he breathed. So maybe this it's a good sign, he thought. It had been a while since they slept like that.

His pink friend was happy in this hot place, but Ghost missed the cold winds of their previous home, not that it bothered him this time away. This place had it's advantages, no predators no harm in the reach of his ears, he and Nymeria could wander around knowing that nothing would happen with their friends. But he still knew, that this would end soon. Because he knew it was momentary, the winds were calling them already and soon their pink friends would listen to them. The winds of their home called loud and could enter anywhere, no matter how hot it was.

The calling was in the cold breeze that touched his muzzle, it was in the sound of the leaves that flew in the cold breeze. It was in the feeling that his brothers and sisters would need them. The pack should not be apart for longer. He could feel it getting stronger and stronger.

He had visions of white, where should be green. Way more white than he ever seen, the whiteness was the same color of his fur and he knew just how easy would be to blend in. He could feel it in the deeps of his heart a primal need, one that spoke of hunting, family, food and wintry breezes. He and Nymeria were not puppies anymore to be tended, they would need to act. They would need to hunt and whatever it was that gave that ocre smell in the cold wind would have to die.

It was a smell to cold for him to like it and it was bad and rotten. Old and dangerous. Bad, he concluded but that had to be expelled since it got stronger as he sniffed the air. He wished that their friends could carry that fire rocks with them, he had a sense that the fire inside the rocks would burst the cocoon of the smell. Like teeth did when he bites meet. Except he was sure it wouldn't be blood flowing… the awful smell would be released and he hoped it would disappear like smells often do. The wind was calling and he knew they would go eventually.

He was not particularly looking forward to going back in the wavy thing, even though he thought that part of his and Nymeria discomfort was an echo of Arya's feeling. On the other hand, he knew they would go, in a way of another.

Ghost decided to walk with Jon until they came back. He hoped Jon would understand the walk. Nymeria seemed to agree with him, so it was decided. They would make their friends good at walking until they knew it from the hearts. Until they could protect them. Even trough the distance he could feel Grey Wind distress, his sense that something was wrong and that the smell where he was wasn't right. Ghost could almost sense it, and it remembered him of thieves and rotten hearts.

He could also feel Summer, even though Nymeria was better in sensing him, she said their brother was worried also, that Bran was wandering sometimes too fast and too far for him to catch him. Something about a crow and eyes more than there should be and the feeling of running.

Their other brothers were hard to sense Shaggydog was still a puppy in ways and Lady didn't answer them in ages, they weren't sure if something had happened or she was just out of the pack for good. Neither way they couldn't count that much with Lady. It was clear that something had happened but it wasn't clear.

Nymeria remembered him that soon, maybe not now there would be puppies to tend… from their friends and from their own. So he said that whatever the coldness was it should be stopped before that time. She agreed and they decided that whatever happened when they got back there a fight was going to happen.

Grey Wind is feeling it too he remembered her, the need to have puppies except that he is without a companion and that's why it's taking longer. She said that more like them existed in the wind direction, Grey Wind will find them too she assured. She bit his left ear and then let it go.

She asked the other question that was bugging him and got stronger ever since the red star feel and the pain flared. Did he felt the hotness in that direction? Nymeria showed him with her head. Did he felt it like it was crackling wood and fire inside a house? Why it felt comfortable but at the same time it felt like it would burn the fur around their muzzle?

Yes he felt it, he answered her, and yes it smelled like a strange combination of burning wood and fire at home. It was growing he said, like when their pink friend feed logs to a hearth. He didn't know what it was or why it was growing but he did felt comfortable with the feeling and scared of burning himself if he got too close. It remembered him of Jon he told her but he couldn't say exactly why it did. She said she saw a shadow passing in the sky it's she tried to see. He told her he couldn't see anything.

No. Ghost didn't know what the hot smell was, like fire kept inside a stone house. He could smell it too, growing. A smell that got stronger and stronger since the red star fell and the pain flared. But surely and he eyed Nymeria feels a bit like home, doesn't it?

They both agreed that the red star brought something and it was a big thing, one that took a part of them as well and was now growing. Ghost also had a feeling that he would see whatever it was soon.

He thought about this place again, it was a weird place. Filled with an old smell that sometimes faintly remembered them of something they had got time enough to properly know and sometimes just utterly vexing. The hunt here was weird. The bouncing things they went above the water were scarier than he likes to admit since it felt like there were a thing with long arms and big heads that sometimes passed just below them. He was hopeful that if they manage to go above them once they would be again whenever they returned.

Also, it was a place with no wolfs apparently since he and Nymeria howled alone getting an answer only from their furthest cousins. Who were not able to hunt them anymore, and what was the fun in running free getting this unsuspected preys if they wouldn't enjoy with them? What was the point in that? Also the hidden creatures were colorful, sometimes small earthy things that liked to steal pieces of shining cloth, and something flying points of light that gave out a smell of tranquility that made you want to dream. The trees acted like they were too deep asleep to sense the world around them, a forest different from the one at home that seemed to be fully awake.

He missed home.

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Bran awoke covered in sweat again, he honestly wasn't liking that three-eyed crow thing that kept crawling his nights. It was more than just weird, it felt like the thing was giving him puzzles and he couldn't help himself… like he just had to try and solve it.

He eyed Summer telling him how he was not happy with this, whatever this was he meant. Summer, on the other hand, looked at him with a face that clearly meant not to blame him, for the strange places they were going. Summer face said it was all Bran fault, and he had nothing to do with it. Bran gave only a half smile, he knew he pursuit it sometimes… but flying it's cool. Again Summer eyed him like he was spelling "flying it's only nice to you" but what could he do? He wasn't walking anymore… just running and flying in his dreams.

Surely Bran already figured out that the dreams with Summer were different from the dreams with the Crow that's why he hold such silent conversations with his wolf. The black crow talked in riddles most of the time, and Summer did not. Summer not talked but the feel of him was like hearing a voice one that had your voice and just answered your thoughts but clearly wasn't you.

Or better yet he was figuring it. Dreams with Summer seemed real, they hold power like actual sensations… he felt like hunting, heart pumping, rhythm setting, seizing the prey, one breath small and quiet and then ATTACK. Or the running, heart pumping and air lacking in your lungs than filling it with more than you could ever take it. Run and breath and hunt… the thrill, the pumping of his heart… the visions of their siblings.

Bran could not say he wasn't sad for Jon and Arya… he has felt pain, one that was definitely not his but had the power to leave him crying like a baby for hours. Even Rickon got worried. He wondered if Robb have felt it? And Sansa? It had been a long time since any of them got news from her. All news they got said she was "being treated well", but she felt distant. More than Arya or Jon or Robb. She felt somehow "away".

The thing was that he could not be like this anymore, he knew that the time for him to be such a baby anymore, he was the man at Winterfell while Robb was gone, even though that position only served as a façade since was really not old enough to rule. If he was speaking the truth he would have to admit that he preferred to be walking around in his dreams like he did with Summer, than spending time and time again pretending to hear the problems that in the end would be solved by Meister Luwin.

He wanted to figure out if the dream he had flying like he was a crowd was a dream, or was one of those dreams. He wanted to know if they were dreams at all. One day he saw a boy and a girl both green-eyed walking to the forest, both of them pretty, their expression focused. The boy had looked up and Bran felt like he could see him, even though he was dreaming the boy seemed to look straight up at him.

He liked the way both of them looked. He wondered if they were coming to meet him or something, like Theon was. He just received a letter from Robb saying that he was sending Theon to help with the northern lords that still haven't commit themselves fully to the cause or were just suspicious in a way. Bran knew that Robb didn't gave out names but he was pointing to the Boltons. Lord Bolton bastard son was not sending troops like he should. Bran knew that already, he just didn't know what he could do to make him comply his brother's orders.

He hoped that with Theon arriving things would be easier, maybe he could concentrate on this thing he was doing, there was a day when he had almost sure… like for a moment he was sure he saw through Hodor's eyes. A weird feeling, like his head submitted to his wishes for a moment. This was the most strange thing that happened this days and honestly he was not sure he wanted to experience this again but at the same time he was curious. Could he?

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Sansa hated here. She simply and utterly hated King's Landing. She thought she would be a princess, she thought that Joffrey was elegant and nice… but he wasn't.

She thought her father was exaggerating. Then she thought that queen Cersei would help her… she didn't. People here were mad. Sh was actually terrified of Joffrey he was mad.

Ever since she saw her father head all she wanted to do was kill him or at least make him pay. But, all she did seemed to go wrong. All she could hope was for Robb to save her now.

Joffrey hit her when she said that Robb was giving her his head, but at least she could glance the fear in his eyes even if it only lasted a moment.

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N/A: So I have no actually explanation to why I took so damn long to finish? Like I finish college then opened my own law office (yep I graduate passed the bar and I'm a fully all serious tax lawyer now) with a friend and work were (is?) mad… but I always took a little time to update this when I had some spare time, except that time seemed to flew by me and shit. Then I literally passed to the same situation I wrote about Arya (if you get my meaning) and I got months without even touching this. I got like messed up and had to take some deep moments of peace and lots and lots of therapy (oh my pshycologist fully support this writing and is always telling me to not give up so know you guys are not the only ones asking). Then I came back and tried again. Sorry for not answering the reviews but really I putted on my to do list but it literally got lost in the writing I had to do in the day.

Once I opened this archieve and I kept it open for 21 days because I had to go write something else! Oh also I write like 30 pages in every 15 days or so for the post-grad I`m doing... that is very time consuming too... ok I'm giving excuses but it's true! I swear! xD

So just for you guys to know I know where I'm going with this. Sansa and Dany just started to show up but there will be more of them. Also Theon, Tyrion (how could I not?), maybe some Jamie x Brienne love?
I do need help in a matter though… SPOILER I was going to kill people in the Red Wedding but now I'm feeling to soft to make characters die xD So major death? Or small death? I promise I'll consider the comments (if there is any) to write next chapter. I also promise I will try my very best not to take years (or months) writing.
Oh THIS WAS NOT REVISED like nada. I didn't even proofread… so bare the mistakes xD

Oh I'm still trying to answer everyone (at least recent). If any of you really need to get in touch with me ask me for my e-mail or facebook and shit it's easier really xD

I do love you all for keeping up with me! xD