#im going to start chewing through the drywall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trans-luis-serra-navarro · 1 year ago

Note

I AM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS BUT *waves hands around frantically* THIS!! ALL FHIS!!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERY SINGLE WORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS ALL SO PERFECTLY SAID I COULDNT AGREE WITH IT MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE IM SO SORRY I HAVE BEEN TRYING S O HARD TO TRY AND WRITE UP A RESPONSE THAT IS JUST AS WELL CRAFTED AND IN DEOTH AS YOURS BUT,,,,,,,, I HONESTLY DONT HAVE ANYTHING TO ADD ON BECAUSE EVERYTHING YOU SAID IS JUST SO SO SO SO INFINITELY PERFECT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tl;dr: the way you described Luis’ Plagas Removal and it’s relationship to dysphoria had me staring at the ceiling for an hour it was so good HDNSHDNDHX everything about your response is incredible

((Also to anyone I’ve tagged in this post if you want me to untag you so it doesn’t clog up your notifs please tell me!!!!!!))

Like the way you explained the feelings of being an outsider in a religion so focused on its own set of rules and his desperation to look up to male figures in his life- ESPECIALLY Don Quixote- shit dog I feel like you just lovingly stabbed me with a knife cuz I resonate SO HARD with all of that!!!!! I know @greasedcowboy has gone into the psychology of that in their fics and analysing that from a trans perspective just makes me go AHSBHSENDHDNDJSJSJSN MAN YOU WROTE IT SO PERFECTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND HIS APPEARANCE!! YES!!!!!!!!! YESYESYESYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AGAIN I RESONATE SO HARD WITH THAT- he uses his appearance like a tool or an extension of himself and that’s just GABSHWBSHSSBSHSNS yknow?????? And Luis Stil holds onto his ‘prettiness’ and flamboyancy without loosing thag sense of masculinity and to me that’s just SO relatable!!!!!!!!!!!

AND YOUR ANALYSIS OF DON QUIXOTE JUST FUCK YEAH MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don wuixote is SUCH a weird book with THOUSANDS of interpretations and I’ve seen your exact sentiment being echoed by literal college professors!!!!!!!!!! So clearly we’re doing SOMETHING right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Jesus Christ man.

The part where you talk about his removal of the Plagas.

That hit me like a TRUCK.

You put it S O ELOQUENTLY and just SO PERFECTLY. You literally put all of the thoughts and feelings I literally couldn’t describe into actual words and I admire you S O much for that man!!!!!!!

Like, the feeling of the almost PHYSICAL pain and horror that comes with body dysphoria is so perfectly represented in how Luis talks about the removal of the Plaga and you put it so perfectly I’m. GOING to bite you.

AND YEAH THE DOLL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Luis isn’t stereotypically masculine but that doesn’t mean he’s any less of a trans man!!!!!!!! (I’m looking at you Kalv!n G@rrah) and I absolutely DESPISE the stereotype that all trans men were massive tomboys and ‘always knew they were a boy’ growing up ESPECIALLY because LITERAL DOCTORS perpetuate this- in Aotearoa, you HAVE to say that you’ve known you were a boy ever since you were a kid otherwise you’re literally not allowed to go on T!!!!!!!! And seeing Luis refuse to conform to that idea or to toxic masculinity standards means oh so much to me

And that last part. Again, dude, I’m gonna explode you with my mind how DARE you make me feel so many emotions I literally almost started balling my eyes out over this!!!!!!

Leon telling luis that he WAS capable of change and that he DID grow up to be the man he always wanted to be just. That fuckin guts me man. Every trans person wants to hear that; every trans person wants that validation. And Luis, especially, would want that validation after everything he’s gone through. And Leon gave that to him in his final moments. @pqiehrlenw has made some incredible comparisons to Luis and his relationship to Icarrus or just any self-fulfilling prophecy; but viewing that exact idea from a trans perspective just breathes so much life into Luis it makes me wanna chew drywall

I think a lot of people always view ‘trans-coded’ characters as being ‘Oh,,,, I was forced to be this way when I was a kid,,,,,,,,, but I always knew I was THIS way 🥺🥺🥺🥺’ and that obviously stems from the fact that a lot of trans rep in fictional characters just,,,,, isnt always very good BXBSHSNSJ and thus a lot of people aren’t open to analysing characters as trans when they don’t fit that stereotype, but to me, Luis is SO INTRINSICALLY Trans in every single way and he STILL doesn’t conform to that stereotype. He’s trans in the way he holds himself, relates himself to the people around him, how he cares, how he reacts to the world and how he just IS as a human being.

And like both @blveherb , @possessionisamyth and @ugetelynx have said, analysing Luis from the angle of being a poc kid coming from literally nowhere and having to navigate the world around him is just SO POIGNANT TO ME and looking at it from that angle alongside a trans perspective (as seperate entities; it’s REEEEEEALLY IMPORTANT to NOT erase the aspect of a character being poc while talking about them being queer like I’ve seen done a LOT of times) just adds so much depth to him and his quest for redemption and his guilt and the wake of death that constantly follows him!!!!

When he asks Leon, ‘People can change, right?’ To me, that isn’t him asking ‘oh girls can change into boys right ?? 🥺🥺’ no, to me, that’s him asking if he can change as a human being- he’s asking Leon if he CAN be like the kind and caring and inherently good men he always looked up to; he’s asking if he CAN break out of that cruel and almost religious cycle of death and self-destruction- he’s asking Leon if his actions define him as a person and if his personhood is any less worthy because of it. He’s asking if people can inherently change for the better; in their identity, gender, self-expression, view on the world, etc etc- and od course they can. Everyone can. Everyone can be the fine knight they always dream of being.

Like I said in my og post; is a trans reading on a character any less valuable or meaningful to the people who need it if they aren’t technically ‘cannon’ or ‘have no cannon basis?’ No. In fact, I’d argue that makes it even MORE meaningful.

Tl;dr: that section where you talked about Luis and the Plagas Removal and how that relates to body dysphoria legitimately left me feeling gutted like a fish it was so perfectly described exactly like how I felt in my head I had to go and lie on my bathroom floor for thirty minutes staring at the ceiling HANDHWNDHNDJXS

TELL ME ABOUT TRANS LUIS!!! I WANT HIM TO BE TRANS SO BAD! (Also he has a giant neon sign over his head that says gay, this man reeks of homosexual)

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE OMG HEYYYYY HIIIIIII HELLOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! I’m SOOOOOO sorry this took so long I had SO MANY THOUGHTS!!!!! I plan on SOMEDAY Doing Like. A properly credited and researched document on why I think Luis is trans so this post is more or less kind of a tl;dr rather than a super proper read?????????? And ofc obligatory ‘this is just my own reading and personal interpretation if you disagree please just keep your opinion to yourself!!!!!’

Also this isn’t proofread like. At ALL so please ignore any sentences that seem wonky or weird HDBEHENDUDJX

ALSO also I do NOT give permission for this post to be screenshotted or reposted ANYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!! No part of this!! Don’t steal!!

Trigger warning for just general mentions of transphobia, religious transphobia and also I talk the death statistics for trans people near the end, so please keep that in mind when reading!!

Ok so, I’m gonna try and put this as chronologically as possible BXBSHDNSHDND but starting at the beginning from when Luis was little there’s already a few things we can pick up on

Luis has a pretty unorthodox family; his mum died when he was little and his dad left so he had to be raised by his Grandfather, and, ask any Trans person around you and they’ll tell you it’s oftentimes the people in their lives who weren’t their direct parents who decided to pick them up and raise them and accept them as they truly are- I feel like you could probably read this with Luis’ grandfather if you really wanted to, too. From what we can TEEEEEEELLL Luis held his grandfather and the memory of him very near and dear to his heart (ie referencing him in conversation, saying ‘not again’ when the medicine burns in seperate ways etc) so you could probably guess that maybe Luis’ grandfather was a surprisingly accepting figure in Luis’ life!!!!!

Which would also line up with the little we know about him- their house was somewhat far away from the rest of the village and from what the notes about him read, his grandfather was a bit of an outcast????? It seemed like the only person who checked in on him regularly was Bitorez- once again, another positive male figure in Luis’ life that he could theoretically look up to and admire.

AND we know that Luis’ grandfather encouraged his love for science and biology- something that prooooobably would’ve been frowned upon in a super conservative catholic glorified cult. So already, Luis and his Grandfather are a bit unorthodox in the setting they live in.

Then we cut to Don Quixote; obviously there’s a LOT to dissect about Luis and his love for that book, and it’s pretty common knowledge how,,,,,,,,, g a y that book is HXNEHENEUDIX like MAAAAAANY-a historians have already pointed that out I don’t need to beat a dead horse but ask literally any trans person around you and they’ll tell you about how they had a fascination with like,, Warrior Cats or Animorphs or Percy Jackson or Peter Pan growing up only to find out they were trans later. Trans kids are pretty drawn to books with unlikely protagonists who don’t fit the usual stereotypes and go on adventures with a whacky misfit family they formed by themselves- and Don Quixote kiiiiiiiiiiiinda falls under that pattern????? It’s a REALLY weird book and I wanna get into why later but it wouldn’t be shocking to assume that Luis probably grasped onto that idea of finding love and acceptance even though he was weird and unusual and he too could go on chivalrous adventures and do good in the world and be loved for who he is (I’ve kinda gone into this before and I plan on going into it again I’ll tag you in that post!!!!)

There’s also something to note about the fact that none of the village notes reference Luis by his first name. Luis is apparently a very “strong and masculine” name so if we ARE going off of the assumption that Luis is trans (which like,,. Duh HDNEHENDHS) then we can probably assume he picked that name for himself

It’s also pretty notable to note (hah) that like,,,,,, just in general, a lot of kids who grow up in a super religious environment just. Turn out gay and trans. I dunno why. I dunno what’s the exact statistic for that but like. Cmon. We’ve all seen it. We all know it right

Then huzzah! Luis’ Grabdfather dies!!! How sweet of him!!!!! /s obviously but Luis takes his death as an opportunity to run from home- again, something that’s sadly quite common amongst younger trans people it seems. When you loose your only support at home, and suddenly that home becomes unsafe, oftentimes the only solution is to run.

Now I’ve talked MUUUUUUCH more in depth about it in this post but considering the fact that Luis was probably a young teenager, an immigrant from the middle of nowhere, and had zero family or support- there’s a less than zero chance that he probably would have stumbled across the queer community one way or another. See, all throughout the 20th century, the queer and poc/immigrant communities were VERY intertwined- now I am WHITE AS ALL HELL so their history isn’t something I’m able to speak on with any amount of grace as actual people of colour could, so I’ll keep this breif and also if I’ve misrepresented anything PLEEEEAAASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME

Basically, like I said- the communities were very intertwined. They’d help each other and were sometimes seen as like the same circle of people when it came to what they were fighting for. All throughout history, this comes up time and time again- which is why I can only assume that Luis, a young person of colour having come from basically the middle of nowhere, would most likely find solace and a place in both communities- and would ABSOLUTELY have explored his gender and sexuality because of it. Even if he WAS cis there’s no way he wouldn’t have at least dabbled in a bit of the ol gender exploration every now and then

((Also, VEEEERY important to note that yes although trans and poc history are very intertwined they are still very seperate histories. It’s VERY IMPORTANT to not erase poc voices from this discussion when talking about this aspect of history- listen to your poc friends first and foremost before all else))

It’s also probably good to note that a few universities around that time were pretty notoriously open about being queer-friendly but we have no clue what exact university in Europe Luis would have gone to but idk we can probably guess he fooled around with some men and women HANSYWNEYENDUCJX

Then we cut to umbrella. I and a few other people have gone into how umbrella would have most likely groomed a young Luis into being excited to work with them and willing via offering him a place to stay, a college degree, a stable life etc etc but there’s also a sense of horror there when you take into account they could’ve offered him the ability to medically transition. Something that was NOT easy or very safe to do at the time. And plus this is resident evil so we can only guess what magical hoodicky they would’ve gotten to do that GDBEYWNDYDJ

From what we can tell, luis honestly enjoyed his time with umbrella!!!! He seemed to be friends with his coworkers and he was proud of the work he was doing (Yknow, before he would have found out it was all a lie and was going to kill millions HXBEHENEH) and honestly isn’t that every trans persons dream????? To have a job where you’re accepted and can feel safe at??????? To have friends who can accept you???????? It just makes what all went down all the more heartbreaking to me if we DO view him in the lens of being a trans character!!!!!!!!!

And then, of course, for the second time in his life; everything comes crumbling down. I’ve done seperate analysis on this and I plan on doing another cuz what I’m about to mention just hits,,,,,,,, S O O O O close to home to me, but when everything in his life gets destroyed AGAIN;

Luis chooses to go back to Valdelobos.

And isn’t that just so devastating?????? Because we as humans ALL do that- when life gets so bad and so intense we have no clue what to do, we all wanna turn to our parents or our childhood homes and get a hug and that feeling of nostalgia and safety from when we were kids that we missed.

But ask any other trans person and they’ll tell you that a lot of the time, that’s not what you’re gonna get; and that’s what happened to Luis. He went home, hoping- BEGGING- for some kind of support from the nightmares he just went through, only to be thrown straight into another one. Los Illuminados had been taken over and reverted his childhood home into something totally unrecognisable and forced him to work for them or else he’d literally be tortured. And isn’t that just,,,,, made all the more depressing when you look at it from a trans angle????

In this case scenario, when a lot of Trans people are forced to return to unsafe homes- they’re forced to push down their identity for their own safety. And reading that in Luis is just all the more devastating

And then there’s the whole thing where Luis literally SELF SURGICALLY REMOVED THE LAS PLAGAS FROM HIMSELF????????? WHY DONT MORE PEOPLE TALK ABT HOW TRAUMATISING THAT MUSTVE BEEN????????????? I know @/katabay made an INCREDIBLE post going into a religious reading on this and how I’m Don Quixote Alonso himself preforms an excorsism on himself and it’s weirdly erotic?????? And how that translates to Luis’ Plagas removal- they also made INCREDIBLE art go check it out- but throughout history there are a LOT of poems made by “”””women who want to be men”””” (aka trans men) who were religious at some point and describe the sensation of binding or getting top surgery to that of having an exorcism (this was mostly done to convince local churches that Hey no it was totally cool actually just let us get gender affirming care pretty pretty please) so, y’know,,,, maybe that meme that Luis showing Leon is scar was actually him coming out as trans wasn’t that far off HEBWYENXUXJXJDNC

And there’s also just the whole fact that he was a scientist that plays into this, too- Catholicism, specifically the hardcore Catholicism that Luis grew up with, absolutely HATES science. And the fact that Valdelobos seemed to be permanantly stuck in this 18th century cult-like state only confirms that they probably would have been anti-medicine, too; not only adding onto Luis’ guilt but also making him a prestigious scientist all the more impressive. Imagery that Luis is shown with (like that lil casket he carried around in seperate ways filled with the suppressants Ada needed) is often used by people in cults similar to Valdelobos to prove that ‘oh science is the devil!!!’ Etc, and y’know what else is related to science????

Medically transitioning babey!!!!!! A lot of the times hardcore religious people, again in similar cults to Valdelobos, use terms like ‘mutulating’ to describe medically transitioning and use already devil-associated imagery like science and modern medicine to hammer home that hatred of trans people (also obligatory not all religious people are like this in fact MOST religious people aren’t like this I’m talking specifically situations like the Gloriavale cult etc etc)

So like,,,,, again, that whole meme that Luis made his own testosterone wouldn’t be too far off BXNSHENDHDNX

But then we get some light at the end of this very depressing tunnel HXNSHENDUJ;

Leon, Ada and Ashley

Now from here on out I’m gonna get into some more like,,, CHARACTER dissection so I figured here would be the best place to put this HDBEYENEUS; Luis fits ALL the stereotypes of a stealth queer person during his time period. Like,, you know the song Gay or European????? Yeah that isn’t a joke that’s a real rhing European queer and trans men did to basically hide the fact that they were queer. It’s like. The oldest trick in the book. Which is why it’s SOOOOOO funny to me when I see Reddit dudebros going “errrrrmm actually Luis isn’t gay it’s just his Spanish charm!!” LIKE DUDE. YOUVE FALLEN FOR T H E TRICK. THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT OF A BIRD USING THEIR TAIL FEATHERS TO DISTRACT A PREDATOR.

And also Spain in general just has a very long and very beautiful Queer and Trans history- obviously it’d be way too much to fit into this one post but I highly reccomend just,,,, looking it up for yourself. Queer people have always been around :))

Ok ok, back to Leon- I plan on someday taking apart and dissecting EEEEEEEEEVERY interaction between them cuz it’s just. It’s all SO GAY. But in general, Luis treats Leon SO much differently than Ashley and Ada but in a good way!!!!!

Luis isn’t afraid to be open around Leon. He isn’t afraid to be flamboyant and jokey and flirt with him- and hell, he probably did enjoy that chain scene HXNEHENEUDJDJ he isn’t afraid to be more vulnerable and just generally what you wouldn’t consider a stereotypical “manly-man;” he doesn’t conform to western societies of stereotypical masculinity, and he isn’t afraid to show that around Leon.

He’s open with Leon- he’s vulnerable and he very openly CARES about Leon. He truly wears his heart on his sleeve and this is for a MULTITUDE of different reasons but I think a big part of it is not just because he’s genuienly attracted to Leon but because leon is a shining example of a chivalrous knight to him

I and many others have gone into this further; but when Luis first met Leon in that body bag, it probably honestly WAS like he was meeting his very own Don Quixote for the first time. He was probably a shining example of everything he wanted to be; brave, kind, never makes mistakes- and again I’ve gone into this further but this truly does play into his character and his very noble quest for redemption and forgiveness a lot and viewing this from a Trans angle just gives that quest SO much more power

Capcom does their best to make Leon out to be a super strong manly-man and @highball66 has gone into some of Leon’s own queer coding, but I think Luis also sees through this. He sees through his macho dudebro masculinity and he sees a genuine and kind human being underneath; just as Leon had done for him. Leon is everything Luis wants to be in a man- just like his grandfather and probably countless male figures in his life before him. So he’s not afraid to open up to Leon; he isn’t held back by that expectation of toxic masculinity because he wasn’t raised that way.

And he’s the EXACT SAME with Ada and Ashley too!!!!!!!! He CARES about Ada! He’s CONSTANTLY looking out for her and giving her the benefit of the doubt and he’s always so polite and kind around her!!!!!!!! Like yeah he puts on the front of being a ladies-man but again like SOOO many others before me have mentioned that’s probably just a safety front!!!!!! He wears his heart on his sleeve around Ada and Ashley, too- he’s always SO polite around her I feel like not enough people point that out????? He offered his hand out for her to take before inspecting the blood, he’s always asking for permission before he touches her etc he’s so nice people don’t give him enough credit for that!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And theeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnn it aaaaaaaaalll comes crashing down when he diiiiiieeeeeeessss,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

It’s pretty important to note that Luis is killed by Krauser; and again, other people have gone into Leon and Krausers queer relationship coding a lot better than I have, but it’s pretty interesting to note that Luis was killed by the guy who pretty much encapsulates all forms of toxic masculinity (again, that meme that everyone jokes about that Krauser killed Luis cuz he was jealous of Leon’s new boyfriend might not be far off HXHWHDUXHSH)

Luis uses his final breath to save Leon- to save the man who has shown him forgiveness and empathy and love for the first time in god knows how long. He opens his heart up to Leon in his final moments; he does one last ‘such a loss to the ladies of the world eh?’ As a last-ditch effort to try and convince Leon that he tooooooootally isn’t queer you guys and to try and hold onto that sense of normality; but he drops that act immedietly after Leon shows him that he’s taking this seriously

He opens up to Leon and admits that he led a pretty shitty life. He spills his heart out to Leon and asks him if people can change. And I’ve said rhis before and I’ll say it again; this is Luis looking for some kind of confirmation. Some kind of forgiveness and some way of saying that Yes his life DID mean something- that people CAN change and CAN be loved like he loved Leon and Leon loved him. And, hell, if we’re REEEEEAALY tryna stretch here (which I mean this whole post is tbh HXBSHSNEHDNSHD) you could even read this as Luis asking for somebody to accept him as he truly is, and see past the facade of a super flamboyant cis straight man. It’s not a stretch to say this moment is him looking and hoping that Leon can see through his past actions and see the beautiful human being underneath- so it wouldn’t be crazy to view it under a queer light either

Then, of course, Leon says that iconic line; you were a fine knight, Don Quixote. Confirming to Luis that he WAS like the chivalrous knight he always looked up to when he was little. Not just for his bravery and confidence; but also for his exploration of gender and non conformity in his sexuality. Leon confirms that for him in his final moments.

Then of course there’s the nature of his death; the fact that he dies below his childhood village is pretty telling to me.

Now this is where I’m gonna get into some depressing statistics, so readers beware, but unfortunately, there is a good chunk of trans people who will die in their childhood homes for many reasons. There’s been a good chunk of trans people all throughout history who have lived long, full lives but still were buried in their childhood homes and towns under their dead name or under the gender they were assigned to at birth. It’s depressing and there really is no making light of it- which is why Luis dying in the village he grew up in and tried so desperately to escape from hits so hard to me.

• Now HOPEFULLY obviously I am N O T comparing Luis’ death to actual real trans people’s deaths. But as somebody who HAS lost trans friends to suicide, the manner of his death absolutely REMINDS me of that and thus hits home harder for me. Go give your trans friends a hug, basically

But on the bright side, at least he didn’t die alone. He had Leon; he had somebody who could, theoretically, show the world who he truly was and remember him by his true name and nature. Luis won’t be totally forgotten underground; he’ll have Leon and Ashley and Ada ro remember the man he truly was just like how many, many trans people who have passed away will have friends and loved ones who will remember them for who they truly are.

Now I don’t wanna end this whole analysis on such a depressing note so I’ll add this at the end; I genuienly think that even if you DONT headcannon Luis as Trans, adding that element to his character not only enriches his already INCREDIBLY well written story but also just generally means the world to trans people in real life, too

Like,,,,, I’ve mentioned this before but I’ll say it again; seeing a character who is so genuinely confident in themselves, so open about their emotions and their identity and who holds themselves in a way that isn’t stereotypically “masculine”- that honestly hits so much closer to home than any other trans headcannon ever has. I’ve gone into detail about how much Luis as a character means to me, but seriously, reading him from this angle lowkey makes me want to cry with how much it means to me HDBEHENEHDJX

Luis is a Beautifully written character who shows the best and worst in all of us humans- who shows that we all just want to love and be loved and be forgiven and given the opportunity to change. All trans people deserve that, too; we all deserve the opportunity to live our lives to the fullest.

Even if you want to comment ‘ErM weLl CapCoM woUlD nEVeR hAvE a TrAns ChaRaCTeR-“ does it really matter???? Does it matter if a character has a canon label slapped onto them, if people can already analyse that character from their own perspective and find deep meaning in that themselves????? Is a character who is canonically queer any more meaningful than a character who isn’t????? I don’t think so, cuz clearly, myself and many, many others find solace and comfort and relatability in the fine knight that is Luis Serra

And finally; André Peña, Luis Serra’s voice actor, has been VERY vocal about his support for trans people and has even said he absolutely 100% believes that Luis would believe in trans rights- so suck it transphobes!!!!!!!!!!!!! Luis is for US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#trans #important #luisposting #othersposts

66 notes · View notes

solace-sun · 5 years ago

Text

Not The Typical Way You Meet a Soulmate Chapter Two (Solangelo)

Over the years, Nico had become best friends with Gatorade, Pedialyte, and Ibuprofen, especially after nights like last. Nico used these like shields against his hangovers, but every so often he'd find himself in a drought of Gatorade, or maybe he would get too drunk to remember to hydrate himself. Either way, he always had to face the headache of a hangover once in a while; it was the price he had to pay for his fun.

He regained consciousness on his twin size mattress, with a dim and blurry recollection of the night before. Highlighted in his memory, however, remained Will's impression, his blonde locks, and careful blue eyes. The image made Nico's stomach do flips, but then again, that could just be his hangover.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he became acutely aware of the piercing pain through his skull, the shakes that came in waves from his core, and the faint sense of nausea rising from his throat. He still wore last night's clothes, which now hung awkwardly off his frame; too tight in all the wrong areas and too loose in others.

He felt like shit.

The more awake he was, the more conscious he grew, the grosser he felt. Wrapping an arm around himself, he pretended to be anywhere but the present, wishing he was somewhere other than his besides his shoddy apartment, but the hammering pain in his head made it hard to focus. He ended up closing his eyes and wishing, praying, he could go back to sleep.

Maybe Nico enjoyed the drunken buzz he'd get at parties, but he never came to welcome the pounding hangover that followed. He never learned to embrace the feeling of a twisted gut or headaches like sledgehammers in his skull.

Unfortunately for Nico, last night's wrath didn't stop with a hangover, he wasn't that lucky. Last night's vengeance was about to enter for round two through the door of Nico's room, in the form of a very unhappy Hazel Levesque.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall behind it.

"Nico!" She shouted, "What the fuck man?"

Well, shit. She's mad about something.

Nico rubbed a sleepy eye awake, "Hazel... Please be quiet. My head hurts," He groaned.

"It's because you're hungover, isn't it?" She accused, "Whatever, that doesn't even matter right now. You got in a fight with someone at the party last night?"

"Who told you?" Nico asked, coercing himself to raise up.

"My friend who hosted the damn party, dipshit!"

"Hazel, I didn't even touch the dude. I would hardly call it a fight. Could you please leave me alone?"

"My friend has a hole in his drywall now! You can't keep starting shit at parties or pissing off people, or getting so drunk you can't remember what happened."

"I remember last night. I didn't blackout," Nico reasoned.

"That's a first. How long has it been since that last happened?" Hazel chided, pinching the bridge of her nose "Actually, no. Don't answer that. I'm gonna be late for class. I'll talk to you when I get home."

She spun out of the room and gathered her things. Before leaving, she called to him from the front door.

"I'm still mad at you still, but I love you!" Her tone was detesting, but Nico could appreciate the sentiment. He laid back, boring holes into the ceiling until his interest became fatigued.

After the ceiling had lost its appeal, he decided that maybe it was time to face the day. He rolled over to check his phone, stretching to reach it where it lay charging.

A text from Will was left in his notifications.

Will: Glad you made it home okay :)

Nico couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He began to type out a response.

Nico: hey i just wanted to say thanks for walking me home last night

Nico: oh and also for not letting my shit get kicked in by a lacrosse player who was a foot taller than me

Will: Lol it was no problem, just returning the favor

Will: How's ur day been so far?

Nico: i mean i just woke up hungover, so not all that great :/

Will: I'm sorry to hear that dude! You know, they say a good breakfast is the best hangover cure

Nico: well thats unfortunate, all i have at my house for breakfast is pop tarts

Will: Are you serious?

Will: Let me take you to breakfast, I'll buy

Will: Call it the final pay back for everything that you did for me yesterday

Nico: i thought walking me home yesterday was payback? not saying im gonna refuse a free breakfast tho

Will: Walking you home was for the party, breakfast can be for the groceries

Nico: will you don't have to do that

Will: I know! I just wanted to show my appreciation :)

Will: There's a cafe I was thinking of. It's usually pretty quiet, and won't be too noisy. I can send you the address and meet you there in 35 minutes?

Nico: alright, see you there

Nico peeled himself from the hold of his twin-sized mattress. He shuffled to a pile of clothes that resided on the floor, scouring for something that wasn't yesterday's clothes to wear. He slipped on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood on; it was a hood-up kind of day. Before he left he swiped a pair of sunglasses laying on his nightstand, his last hope to buffer his headache from the sober world.

He came to find that it didn't help much.

His groggy walk brought him to the cafe doors earlier than he had anticipated, leaving him to anticipate Will's arrival. He stood idly at the cafe entrance with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. His head still pounded, and the talking of strangers passing by became sirens in his head. He had to remind himself this was all worth it for free breakfast.

Just before his waiting turned to worry, Will approached from down the street. The grasp around Nico's anxious heart subsided as he saw the familiar face.

"How are things going man!" He asked as he pulled the cafe door open with his good arm.

Nico couldn't ignore the headache piercing his skull, "Things could be better," he shrugged.

"Hey, once we get a little bit of breakfast, I'm sure things will get much better."

The inside of the cafe treated Nico's hangover much better than the outside had. The cool air and quiet atmosphere were exactly what he needed that morning. He silently thanked Will for being kind of a genius.

As soon as the two settled into their seats, Nico let his head lay on the table. Will gave him a sympathetic smile.

"That bad, huh?" He asked. Nico only nodded in response.

"Let me order for you. I know exactly what will help you out, dude."

"I will do anything, as long as it gets rid of this headache," Nico groaned as he propped himself up, resting his head on his hands, "Thanks for offering me breakfast."

"Thanks for carrying my groceries for me," Will grinned.

Before long, a waitress sauntered over, placing a pitcher of ice water and two cheap plastic cups in front of the two. She asked for their orders, of which Will ordered for the two of them.

Nico tuned their conversation out, getting lost in the scene outside their window. He watched the cars pass by, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses.

Will pushed a cup of water towards him to reel him back into the present.

"You need to rehydrate," he prompted. Nico did as he was told, and took small sips from the cup.

"How's your day been so far?" Nico asked.

"Pretty good. Though, I feel bad saying that to your face," Will joked. Nico shot him a look Will could see even through the dark glasses.

Will chuckled, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He put his hands up in defeat.

"How was the rest of the party?" Nico asked.

"Honestly? I didn't stay much longer after you went home. I checked in with my friends to make sure they were fine then called it a night. Guess it was just kinda boring without you there, starting fights and all."

Nico covered his face with his hands, "God, don't remind me about that," he grumbled.

"What? I thought it was sweet," Will responded.

"Yeah, I don't know," Nico started, "Drunk me thought I was doing something great, but my sister totally chewed me out for it this morning."

"Why?"

"I guess she's friends with the guy who hosted the party... And he's not too thrilled to have a hole in his wall, which could technically be my fault? I don't know," He explained.

"Oh, does your sister go to school?" Will asked.

"Yeah, she's a freshman, studies early education."

"Oh, that's cool," Will engaged. Then his eyebrows furrowed, and his expression became confused, "Can I ask a question?"

"That depends. What's the question?" Nico's tone was apprehensive.

"How come you don't go to school?"

Before Nico had the chance to respond, the waitress had returned and plates were being unloaded on the table in front of him. He looked down at the mystery meal Will had ordered for him.

"What the fuck is this?" Nico exclaimed, "Is this spinach in my breakfast?"

"Oh my god," Will rolled his eyes, "You know, everything on that plate is what they recommend you eat to get rid of a hangover."

"Okay, you know what? Fine. I'll eat your weird healthy breakfast, only because it's gonna make me not feel like my brain is trying to rot inside my skull."

He grabbed at a fork and stabbed his omelette with it, and took a bite.

"Oh shit," He spoke behind a mouthful of food.

"What?" Will gave a concerned look, glancing up from his own breakfast.

"This is actually really good," Nico admitted why a shy smile.

"See? It's not that bad. And it's good for you."

"Will," Nico began, "I want you to look at me in the eyes, and recall everything you know about me, which, granted, isn't a lot," He paused to take another bite of food, "And ask yourself if I really seem like the type of person who cares about which foods are good for me or not."

Will raised his eyebrows. For a second, Nico thought he had offended him, but Will erupted into that contagious laughter of his. Nico joined in, giving in to the pull of the laughter.

Will shook his head, his chuckles slowing to a stop, "Man, I guess you're right."

Will looked at Nico and smiled. Nico glanced back, if only for a second, and reciprocated the grin.

Then he felt the phone in his pocket buzzing. He reached down into his pocket and gave a quick 'sorry give me a second' to Will before answering.

"Hello?"

"Nico! Are you gonna show up for your shift? I've told you before man, you gotta give me notice if you're gonna be late."

Shit.

It was his manager.

"I wasn't on the schedule for today, I thought," Nico defended. Will looked up from his plate and gave a concerned look.

"Should have double-checked, I needed you here thirty minutes ago."

Shiiiiiit.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as possible,"

"How long is that going to be?" His manager's voice rang through the phone.

"I don't know... I'm not at home right now, and I'm walking so... It could be twenty-five minutes. I'm so sorry, I didn't know I had a shift today."

"Do whatever you can to get here, I need your ass down here now. We're having a rush and we're understaffed."

"Right, okay. See you in a few," Nico responded, and ended the call.

"Do you gotta go?" Will asked, disappointment hidden in his tone.

Nico pursed his lips, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea I was on the schedule, but I gotta go now or I am so fucking fired."

"Do you need a ride?"

"Will, no, I can't ask you to do that. You're already paying for my meal," Nico explained.

"Nico, it's totally fine! I don't mind at all," Will insured, "I picked up my car from the shop yesterday, so we're good to go!"

Nico's brows furrowed while he contemplated the offer. After a moment, he agreed.

"I'm only accepting because I needed to be there, like, 30 minutes ago," Nico said, as he began to pack his things and leave. Will left a pile of cash that would cover the bill plus tip, and the two hurried out of the restaurant, and towards Will's beat up SUV.

When Nico walked through the back door of his restaurant job, he was met with several pissed coworkers and his manager.

"He finally shows up!" his coworker, Jason, exclaimed.

"About fuckin' time!" another employee called out. Nico ignored his coworkers teasing, and snatched his uniform from his locker, and threw it on, trying to smooth the wrinkles out while tugging on the sleeve. He clocked in, and rushed to the front of the house, to take his position.

As he sped to his spot, he bumped into his manager, whose only words were a muttered 'glad you could make it.' Nico gave a shy smile and grabbed a handful of menus before settling at his stand.

Working at a five-star restaurant was kind of like maintaining a well oiled machine -- if well oiled machines could be a dysfunctional team that somehow maintained the image of perfection on the surface. It was a stressful job, but it paid decently, all things considered, and sometimes Nico even liked his coworkers. In the very least, they were usually tolerable.

But today, Nico was up against the edge, still half hungover, and in the middle of a rush, he wished he could still be enjoying Will's company. Something about Will made his heart feel still.

Despite his longing to be elsewhere, Nico was, unfortunately, stuck at his job, taking the orders of people who didn't know mediocre, overpriced food if it hit them in the face. His least favorite part of the job was the customers, but then again, Nico was fairly sure if you asked any food service worker, they would say the same thing.

This rang especially true today. He was getting a headache (And no, it wasn't just the remnant of his hangover) listening to an older woman complain about her food. He had tried to tune her out maybe five minutes into the lecture about why her food sucked, and why she deserved a refund with a complimentary meal, but he could still hear the echo of her nasally voice through his dissociative state. After the lady finished her spiel, Nico resumed his customer service voice and assured her she would be satisfied with a new meal, per company policy, and left the table.

He walked into the kitchen, ready to announce that he was going on break when his coworker slammed into him. Now, if his coworker had been empty handed, maybe everything would have been fine. But she wasn't, instead, she had been carrying out a meal, which was now plastered all over Nico's white, formal uniform.

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" She exclaimed. Nico could feel the frustration and annoyance bubbling in his chest, rising up his throat. He shut his eyes, and inhaled, reopening his eyes as he exhaled.

"I am going on break," He spoke in monotone, attempting to disguise any anger in his voice. He dragged himself out back, and slumped onto a crate to sit on. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Today's shift fucking sucked.

He pulled out his phone. In his notifications was a text from Will. The anger and frustration that held Nico's heart began to loosen its grasp.

Will: How's work? Hope you haven't been fired yet lol

Nico: not fired yet, just got angry looks from my coworkers for being 40 minutes late during a rush

Nico: maybe it's deserved though, it'd be pretty mad if i were them

Will: I mean, in your defense you didn't know about your shift, and you seemed like you genuinely felt bad so I wouldn't beat yourself up too badly :)

Nico: thanks, haha

Will: Quick question, do you have a ride home?

Nico: no i usually just walk home

Will: Do you want a ride? I'd feel bad if I just dropped you off with no way to get back home

Nico: you can't keep doing favors for me like this

Nico: I get off late anyway, you probably wouldn't want to drive around by the time I get off

Will: What time is your shift over?

Nico: uh

Nico: seven

Will: That's not even late

Nico: i don't need a ride, i'll be fine, i promise

Nico: thanks for the offer tho

Will: I will take it as a personal offense if you don't accept this offer, Nico

Nico: dont tell me that

Nico: like seriously though, i can't let you do this

Will: I feel bad just dropping you off like that!

Nico: i walk home all the time, its okay! i promise

Will: How often do you walk home hungover?

Nico: i mean, im not even hungover anymore so

Nico: but now that you've offered, it would be nice not to walk home for once

Nico: im only agreeing because you're practically begging me at this point

Will: I'll be waiting out back at 6:50 ;)

Nico shook his head and smiled, replacing the phone in his pocket.

As he smiled to himself, the back door swung open. Jason peered his head from around the door. He gave Nico a funny look.

"I don't think I've seen you smile before," He paused to think, "Ever."

"Oh, come on," Nico protested, "That's not fair."

"What's got you so happy? Surely not work, not after the shift you're having," Jason commented.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Nico taunted Jason.

"Don't be like that," Jason chastised, "Anyhow, boss wanted me to tell you that he wants you back inside, it's starting to get busy again."

"Tell him I'll be back out there in five minutes. Also, do you have a spare shirt I can borrow?" Nico asked, gesturing down to the mess that was now staining his shirt.

"I was just about to offer you my spare shirt. It's in my locker, let me go get it," Jason replied, holding the door open for Nico. He followed Jason inside as the heavy door slammed behind the two.

The rest of Nico's shift didn't improve by much, but at least he had something to look forward to. By the end of his shift, he never felt so welcomed by his hoodie and casual clothes, that hung loosely off his frame rather than the suffocating hug his work uniform gave him.

Clocking out was the best part of his day.

He walked out back, shoving the door out of the way and giving a curt goodbye to his coworkers. Will's car idled in the back alley behind the restaurant, awaiting his arrival. Will waved when he saw Nico emerge from the building.

"Hey, Nico!" Will exclaimed as Nico pulled the car door open.

"Hey Will," Nico started, "Thanks again for picking me up. I know I resisted at first, but like, I'm actually so glad I agreed. Would have been pissed if I were walking home right now."

"Man I don't know how you do it, walking every day" Will agreed.

"I mean you get used to it, but after some shifts I definitely wish I knew how to drive."

"So what, you never learned?"

"I mean, I never really felt the need to? Like some days I'm like 'yeah a car would be nice,' but most days I'm perfectly fine without."

"Have you ever thought about learning?" Will asked, glancing at Nico from the side of his eye as he drove.

"I don't know... I've always told myself I'd learn at some point, but I keep putting it off. Why?"

"I could teach you now, if you'd like," Will gave Nico a smile that meant trouble.

"What? No, Will, I'll total your car."

"It'll be fun! There's an empty parking lot we'll pass on the way back to your place, we can stop there and I can just show you the basics."

"What if I hit something?"

"Nico, dude, this car is worth at very most a total of 500 dollars. I wouldn't be ruined if this thing suffered a few bumps. It's the perfect car to learn in, you can't do any more damage to it than it has already suffered."

"I mean, I guess I don't have anything else going on tonight..." Nico gave a hesitant response.

"It'll be fun, I promise!" Will said as he flicked his turning signal and pulled into the empty lot. He put the car in park and opened the door.

"Okay, switch places with me," He prompted.

"Uh, okay," Nico gave some thought to hesitation, before stepping out of the passenger seat and into the driver's.

"Okay, look at the floorboard. Do you know which pedal is the brake and which one is for gas?" Will asked.

"Uh, the big one's the brake, right? And the small one is the gas?" Nico gave an answer even he doubted to be correct.

"Yeah! Okay, now put your foot on the brake," He instructed. Nico did as he told, gripping the steering wheel so tightly he thought he might break it.

"Great, now grab the gearshift, and put it into drive," Will explained, "You know how to do that?"

"Uh," Nico choked on his own words, "No?"

"That's okay!" Will assured. He reached over to gently hold Nico's hand, as he placed it on the gearshift. With his hand over Nico's, he pulled the gearshift into place.

"Now you're in gear!" He exclaimed with a bright grin. Nico's hand started to shake underneath Will's.

"What you wanna do now is let your foot off the brake, slowly though," As Will began, Nico lifted his foot off, and the car began to roll.

"Oh fuck the car is moving now," Nico cursed under his breath.

"You're doing good! The car is gonna move slowly as long as you don't hit the brakes. Now, I want you to take the same foot you just used the brakes with, and very slowly, press on the gas."

Nico placed a foot on the gas, and the car jerked forward.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Nico groaned.

"Don't be! You're doing good!" Will encouraged, "Try again."

Nico lowered his foot back onto the pedal, and the car lurched once more. Surprised by the movement, he took his foot off the gas, giving Will a concerned look.

"It can be tricky to get the hang of, but you're doing really good so far!" He encouraged.

Nico's foot hovered over the pedal. Carefully, he began to press weigh to the pedal. The car began to move faster.

"Hey, there you go!" Will exclaimed, "You got it! Now, see if you can speed up a bit."

Nico pressed on the pedal, and the car roared, picking up speed. As the car gained speed Nico lost confidence, his chest began to feel tight. He could feel his hands tremor as he gripped the wheel, and he began to feel his throat close up. He slammed a foot into the brakes. The car screeched to a stop, causing both himself and Will to lurch forward in their seats. Nico's knuckles had turned white around the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Nico repeated, "I think... I think I'm done. Let's switch back."

"You were doing so well though!" Will reassured.

"No, I think I'm done," Nico confirmed, placing the car back into park.

"Oh, okay," Will's smile fell.

His shaky hands and nerves calmed once Nico returned to the passenger seat. He let out the breath he had been holding and rubbed his arms.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you," Will said as he slid back into the driver's seat.

"Will, it's not your fault. I've... I've never been good at managing my nerves while driving. My dad gave up trying to teach me years ago because I'd just freak out whenever I was behind the wheel. I guess I thought this time would be different? I don't know..."

Nico felt a hand on his shoulder. Will ran a thumb over the skin on his shoulder.

"It's okay," Will ensured, giving a small smile to Nico, "I just hope I didn't make you feel pressured to do something you didn't want to."

"No! Of course not, I just thought I could actually do it this time. I mean there's a reason why I don't drive."

"You wanna talk about it?" Will asked.

"There's not much to talk about. It's just, like, my nerves... I just get so anxious behind the wheel. It's always been like that," Nico explained, fidgeting with his hands, "Like, I just personally think I shouldn't drive. There are some people out there who just don't drive, and maybe I should just commit to being one of those people."

"It takes practice," Will comforted, "You'll get it if you give it a chance."

"I don't know Will," Nico shook his head, "I can't drive in an empty parking lot, and I can't even imagine how I'd manage on a road with other cars. I don't know how you do it, especially with a broken arm, oh my god."

"I'm telling you, it's just practice. I mean, I guess the arm thing is a little hard to get around, but, I'm doing fine now, I think," Will spoke.

"Does it still hurt? Your arm?" Nico asked.

Will examined his arm, observing the curve of the cast, "No, not unless I move it the wrong way."

"I feel bad, you like, broke your arm," Nico began, "You said you've been playing lacrosse for seven years? And now, all of a sudden you just stopped? Don't you miss it?"

"I mean, yeah, I put so much of my time into it and spent so many years practicing. It was my sport and I loved it. And then, after I left the hospital, after talking to my coaches and telling them I was done... I realized, y'know, that I had put on my jersey, and played for the last time, without even knowing it, and that... That kinda sucked."

Nico nodded, watching Will as he spoke, "This whole thing sounds like it's been pretty hard on you."

Will turned to Nico, "This... may sound so stupid," Will laughed, "But you are so easy to talk to. Like being around you is just easy."

Nico smiled and nodded, "No, I get what you're saying."

He sighed and looked down at the floorboard.

"Guess I should be getting you home though, right?" Will asked as he started the engine. He pulled out of the lot and accelerated onto the road towards Nico's house. Will studied the road as Nico watched streetlights speeding by, their lights beginning to illuminate as the sun began to fall. A hazy shade of grey began to blanket the sky, and stars began to peek out from behind the veil. Will turned his head to steal a glance at Nico. For maybe a second, he let himself admire Nico's profile and the curve of his nose, the bend of his jawline, before pulling his gaze back towards the road.

He pulled into the apartment lot he had left Nico in the night before. As he pulled in, Nico looked like he was about to say something, maybe in protest, but ultimately decided against it.

Nico gave Will a soft smile and thankful eyes, "Thanks for the ride, Will."

"It's no problem, anytime," Will assured. He wanted to say more, but the back of his mind told him to remain silent, despite the pull in his chest. He didn't want this to be the last time he'd see Nico. He also didn't want to return to his empty apartment. He wasn't ready to be his only company again.

"Hey," Nico said, from outside the car, holding the door open and leaning in, "Text me later. Let me know what your schedule looks like so we hang out again. You're a fun guy to be with."

The tug at Will's chest rested, "Oh! Yeah, for sure!"

Nico closed the door, and left with a wave, as Will's car began to roll out of the lot.

Will exhaled a shaky breath, the feeling of loneliness beginning to flood his lungs. It was suffocating. He drove home, trying not to lose himself to the feeling

As he walked into his empty home, he felt a buzz from his pocket. He opened his phone and saw Nico had sent a text.

just caught wind of a party happening tomorrow, any chance you're able to go? ;)

Will smiled to himself and felt some of the loneliness began to fade.

(Big thanks to my beta readers @embooks and @all-this-panic-still-no-disco !!)

#not the typical way you meet a soulmate #chapter two #solangelo #solangelo fanfic #pjo fanfic #Nico di Angelo #will solace #will x nico

12 notes · View notes

vaultedvagabond · 2 years ago

Text

I swear to god if doctor who starts having cgi outfits and backgrounds im going to chew through my drywall like a snapping turtle

1 note · View note

rise-my-angel · 1 year ago

Text

#OKYA BUT GENDRY!!!!!!!!!#i am here for gendry and reader with their little family dynamic#god this series truly makes me love the baratheons#the way gendry and reader were able to just fall into jests and whatnot makes me🫶🏼🫶🏼#olly gendry and reader. who would have thought at the start of reading this series would i instantly fall in love with this little trio #i have adopted olly in the same way reader has#somewhere theon is in his room like ‘jesus fucking christ here we go again

I firmly believe all Baratheons are some degree of hilariously charismatic, but it comes out in such drastically different ways in each of them. But because Gendry is so lowborn, he has absoutely no care in filtering that charisma which manages to break through all the highborn formality burned into the readers psyche. I've known since chapter 2 I'd be bringing Gendry back into the story around this point and have been chewing on drywall waiting for the right opporunity to do so.

Olly though, started off as some kid who confessed to murdering Jon, to being the one character the reader has all but filled out the adoption papers for. Like he started out greatly admiring Jon but then at his worst actions and lowest of points the reader gave him a chance he thought no one would, and neither of them are going to forget that.

And honestly Theon is about to die of a stress induced heart attack and I'm sure hot head Theon will not at all clash with short tempered Jon now that their referee isn't there to tell them to go to their separate time out corners.

#THE WAY SAM RECOGNISED JON’a FIGHTING IN READER IM GONNA BASH MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL #also#that gif from community of donald glover coming in smiling with his pizzas to be met with the entire room on fire and chaos#that’s sam meeting reader for the first time#this guy just wanted to get back to jon to tell him what he learnt. and now he’s been thrust into a fight with the queen he thought was dead#and now he’s on his way as a hostage as insurance

Sams been at the citadel for like a year, the poor man doesn't have a clue whats going on and the FIRST city in the North he goes to and all this happens. Like he's standing there thinking "No no no no fuck no this ain't how I find out jons girl is alive what the fuck is going on here what did I walk in on i just wanted to tell jon what i learned at college????"

#also laughing at howland reed just chilling in his room#and then 5 minutes later reader bursts in. drops the bomb and now everything’s gone to shit#the man just got to winterfell and didn’t even have time to breathe before the can of worms got opened

Howland has been sitting in his bog swamp home for like 10 years on a lilypad talking to fucking no one like "everything is fine". His brain almost breaks seeing Jon and then is like nope get it together Howland you have a job to do only to get accosted by the reader like "IVE BEEN HAVING WEIRD DREAMS AND ALSO I FIGURED OUT THE REALMS BIGGEST UNKNOWN SECRET AND IM GONNA SPILL THE BEANS"

He probably stood there at the door in his room for like 20 minutes disassociating right after the reader left honestly.

#but also truly heartbreaking end#jon and reader can’t catch a break

I'm sure this isn't a theme or anything or a motif, or a strange seemingly unavoidable running phenomenon between them that symbolizes things to come :)

Heart of the Great Wolf

33 - Blood, Roses and All Lies

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, mentions of rape, mental duress, disturbing imagery, descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: No, I'm fine, it's cool. Nothing at all is wrong, everything is fine. Don't look at me. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

As you had sat down, it was already suspected what the response was going to be. Some would be fine with it, others wouldn't be as happy and a spare few left would likely stand and argue over the matter in principal but there was no more room left for chance. Beside you, Jon stood tall as his voice projected in the vastness of the main hall. “Everyone aged ten and up will drill daily with spears, pikes, bow and arrow.”

A laughter waved across the hall as Lord Hornwood spoke up with an air of amusement in his tone looking to the men by him and over. “It's about time we taught these boys of summer how to fight.”

Biting your tongue, you held your expression as still as could be knowing the protest about to come, but Jon had the confidence in the decision to not waver. “Not just the boys. We can't defend the North if only half the population is fighting.”

Room falling quiet, many eyes found Lord Hornwood as he stood with a narrowed expression and judgment sitting upon his tone. “You except me to put a spear in my granddaughters hands?”

Considering the one who started you on your own path of weaponry stood beside you, it was easy for Jon to find a calm but collected response.

“I mean no offence, my Lord, but that was a command.” Many heads turned to either their King with pride, or Lord Hornwood with a question of doubt sat upon their eyes of what he would say. Jon however, was not finished. “I'm not asking you, any of you, to be comfortable with your wives, daughters, granddaughters learning how to fight. But this isn't a normal battle we are preparing for. If we fall, there will be no one left to protect them and these things will not care how young they are.”

More silence rippled through, and unnerved speculation fell upon the crowd. But Jon was at Hardhome, he had seen who the army of the dead rose up with and not for a second did how young any were make them not as dead as before. Or as blue eyes to terrify as every other. Children died that day the same as their mothers and fathers falling beside them.

Your voice was quieter then Jon's, but the silence of the room heard it all the same. “If your granddaughter knows nothing of how to fight, it will be far more difficult to expect her to know how to defend herself when the time comes.” Something sat at the edge of his mouth, but you stood up with a voice finding itself louder. “As a parent, you do everything in your power to protect your children. But there is a strong difference between protecting them, and coddling them. When they come, they will not pass by our daughters and granddaughters because we wish to keep them away from it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew that without looking despite the flatness of your voice and face a smirk found it's away onto Jon beside you. “Besides, I assure you my lords, your King is none to happy when I've been on the field of battle but he suffers through it all the same.”

Your eyes found Maege Mormont and she stood in agreement. “She's right. I lost one of my girls that night at The Twins, but I haven't let that stop me from making sure my four youngest can fight as well as my Dacey did until the end.”

The Frey's were only men, the Others were not. The death to follow when they come through these lands would be worse then the ones which killed so many already. Any who had no training whatsoever would stand not a second of a chance this time as Jon continued. “I'm not preparing our children for battle, I'm ensuring they know how to protect themselves. I'm not asking us to like it, but I am telling you, telling all of us, that this isn't about what we want anymore. It's about survival.”

Many waited to see if Lord Hornwood had any left to say against his King's word but sense seemed to find him more as the eyes turned to him in waiting judgment. None had noticed the figure slinking in the back of the room, short and unseen by most. Just as he begun to speak, “No one here is questioning-”

But the voice spoke up. Similar to you, it was on the air of quiet and soft spoken but as many turned to the voice they clearly felt the certainty in their words. “Your granddaughter does not need your permission to defend the North. My daughter is the fighter between her and her brother, and if they have no issue with it, neither should any of us.”

It took a moment as eyes watched for it to click, but it was easy for Jon. Catching a better glance at him as the crowd parted somewhat to make the man visible. Clothes made in tones of black and deep greens and the sigil etched into him of a black serpentine lizard. Judging by both age and wear in his eyes as the man found that of Jon's he knew right away who had stepped into his hall.

“Lord Howland, I've never had the pleasure.”

Howland Reed had looked up at Jon in silence for a moment. Something behind his eyes that had your lungs catch as if you recognized the hidden intent. But found little in your present mind to focus on it as such. He stepped between the standing crowd, pulling the hood down to properly address him. “I had not the courage to come before now, your grace. I ask to be given the chance to make amends for not stepping foot into the fight against the Boltons. Forgive my silence and allow me to serve you now when I had not your brother, our late King.”

It was quiet in the room as Jon had nothing but respect in his eyes. “You saved my fathers life during the Rebellion, without you many of us might not be standing here as we are today. You will always be welcome a place here, my lord. There's nothing to forgive.” Howland Reed nodded, as did Jon before the former took his time taking his leave to slink at the wall of the main hall and hide amongst the larger men as a shadow would.

Jon turning once more to the crowd, as you had not sat down as he hadn't. Finding a silence with sharp, narrowed eyes but listening as intently as all others. “While we're preparing for attack, we need to shore up our defences. The only thing standing between us and the army of the dead is the Wall, and the Wall hasn't been properly manned in centuries. The last we had seen them was at Hardhome, the closest fort to there is Eastwatch by the Sea. Now if they do breach the Wall, the first two castles in their path are Last Hearth and Karhold.”

Interrupting, a womans voice came from the back of the room, “The Karstarks betrayed the North.” A rumbling ran through the hall, and you spared a glance with Jon. Both of you sitting with unease at the riling up which easily could come through and a question on his at how deep did this issue run he did not know the details of. “Their Keep should be torn down with not a stone left standing.”

As voices begun to rile up, you glanced through the room, eyes finding Smalljon Umber, sitting himself quiet with something trying to breach his tongue. Your own voice spoke first, “The Karstarks did not betray the North. Rickard Karstark betrayed his King, that is a far cry from-”

Even as other voices spoke up, you were thankful this was not your first time acting as a speaking leader to a rowdy crowd of Northerners . But you did not quite grasp why it seemed Lady Barbery Dustin was so intent on vocalizing her disagreement when before she had not. “So there is no punishment for treason?”

Glancing to Jon, there was a darker tint in his eyes that did not reiterate whatever it was they were aiming towards as he addressed her. “The Karstarks have fought beside the Starks for centuries. They've kept faith generation after generation-”

“And then they broke faith.”

You didn't like that you couldn't place her tone. Something was frustrating that put the hall into silence as heads all turned to Jon, many you could see teetering on speaking up in defence of their King. But he was not a man who needed others to do that for him. Not now. His brows narrowed slightly as he once more let his voice speak loud and verging on losing his patience. “I'm not going to strip a family of their ancestral home because of the crimes of a few reckless sons.”

Baited breath all waited, the tint of anger seeping in Lady Barbrey's voice making your own eyes narrow. “So there's no reward for our loyalty, but the House you fought against with the Boltons receive nothing for their treason?” Something kept banging in your head, but you didn't know what and it had been a long time since you felt it for something not so urgently dire. You just couldn't place what the feeling was.

Not for a moment however, did Jon entertain this debate. Waiting for the whispering to settle before he addressed the room as a whole. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, I executed men who betrayed me. I executed men who refused to follow orders. My father always said, the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and I have tried to live by those words.” His eyes found hers, and he too, couldn't place something standing out of her comments. “But I will not punish a son for his father's sins, and I will not take a family home away from a family it has belonged to for centuries. That is my decision. And my decision is final.”

But, it instead seemed, the question found its way to Smalljon Umber as he stood, “Your grace, if I may. I have been close with many of the Karstarks my whole life, and I do not disagree with your decision but there is one who has not come forth.”

Say it, you thought. Say what you had all been thinking since that day in Deepwood Motte. Tell Jon how his little brother ended up on the path to his burial in the crypts below.

“Ramsay Bolton spent much time trying to organize manners in which to get our Queen back in his captivity. And it was through those plans which he found Rickon Stark, knowing if one Stark could be found he assumed you would be willing to negotiate a trade.” Looking guilty, you knew it wasn't going to be easy admitting it. He and Harald had been close friends as long as you had known both men and whispers begun once more to flourish through the halls at his words, but he continued regardless. “Harald Karstark had held bad blood between him and our Queen for his fathers execution, and saw his vengeance fit as leading men to search out for Rickon Stark and bring him to Ramsay.”

Anger rippled through as the sight of Rickon falling to the ground played right before your eyes, and a burning in your veins at what you didn't do to stop it. In your chest the increase of your heart felt unkind. Jon's voice beside you was as tight and restrained as you could see in the clenching of his jaw as your eyes flickered to his tone. “Lord Glover put the same accusation forth, but if you have no more proof then we had then-”

The court went back and forth, but you couldn't hear. Or feel or see anything as something dark encroached your vision. The voice of one man screamed in the halls over the sounds of pouring rain that all boomed so loudly you almost flinched. “Kill me and be cursed. You are no King of mine.”

What were they saying around you? Your pounding heart cut every path to your lungs and it burned within you as you suffocated in the sounds of yelling and whispering all as voluminous as the other.

“If Rickard Karstark was alive, Rickon would be alive too.”

“If you stayed dead, his brothers wouldn't be.”

“They all know its your fault.”

“Jon blames you.”

“Ramsay's whore.”

Was anyone speaking anymore? Were you alone in the hall and yet not many noticed how white from strain your knuckles had turned as your palms braced against the wood. What was anyone even saying all voices felt as if they were fading away and the room dimmed from the afternoon to something dark and only just as you lifted your head to the room did you hear it.

The voice calling your name clearer then anyone and in the hall at the end was one you knew, and yet in your waking hour your understanding escaped you of who you had seen. You had no voice though, you found no way to call out to him as he was finally in front of you after so many years. But he walked carefully, an arm outstretched as he spoke almost upset and desperately. “I didn't mean for this, any of this, to happen this way. I was trying to help but now I don't know how to make it stop..”

You once more failed to open your mouth with words instead only blood spilled out. He came forward looking more and more upset and as he to stand in front of you? An arm reaching out to you like a boy desperate to fix things did the strings begin to play.

They played and they increased so loud you knew the both of you no longer could hear any including each other as they grew enough he had to cover his ears it was so painful. But then you heard one more voice behind you. “Afterall, my King is long overdue a wedding gift for he and his Queen.”

The boy tried grabbing you with both hands to pull you away but the stringed music was so loud you couldn't even hear him call your name until the music stopped and the hall was silent was you heard Catelyn yelling Robb's name in desperate warning.

A different set of hands grabbed you from behind to pull you back and the other reached around forward and just as the sharpness of the blade sunk deep into your stomach did you startle back to the world.

The cup in front of you had been knocked down in your startle as it clanked against the ground and the contents spilled across the table and dripping to the floor. Interrupting what was seemingly a display of commands from Jon as a few other men now stood in the clearing near the high table but all eyes looked at you.

The only pair of eyes that were not looking in worried fear, were in the very back from a now very curious Howland Reed.

By the time the meeting had dispensed, Jon instantly almost threw his hand down on one of yours against the table the second you made to move. Not a thought in your mind in that second but the list of things you were intending to do that day, but Jon squeezed it and it kept you in place, if not willingness of your own then by his strength alone.

You had almost missed half of the meeting, and part of you worried that it was a scolding coming your way, in what you knew was a strangely childish notion. Ser Davos made his way from the now depleting crowd towards the high table as Jon glanced at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment. An almost indiscernible slow blink that told him enough to decide to let your hand go. “Not common from what I've seen that one of your own people argue with you so freely.”

Giving the benefit of the doubt, Jon exhaled out the irritation to let it simmer. “Northerners don't tend to hold back how they feel. Can't blame her for that.” Still, not one of the three of you looked with any ease as if the strange scenario of the whole meeting sat amongst everyone still now.

Footsteps came approaching, directing the attention to Howland who gave a courteous bow as he approached. “If I could spare a moment of your time, your grace?” Jon nodded and Howland closed the gap stepping up the small stairs to the high table where you all stood with much less authority. “Your father was a friend who meant a lot to me, but I feel as if I've failed my duties to what remains of his family. I sent aid but did not join Robb Stark's war in the South, nor did I come to your aid in either battles you have lead since.”

Jon shook his head, tone deeper now as it fell in volume to a more normal softness. “One of my brothers from the Nights Watch met your two children, told me that they're part of the reason why Bran is still alive, still out there. They may not be here to thank, but I can thank you for sending them to help him.”

A fond smile on the mans face formed, thoughts of children he could sometimes barley understand and yet knew them better then a soul else. “Hardly my choice, your grace. I raised them to be too much like myself, made that choice all on their own once they knew what needed to be done.” Crossing his arms he inhaled, “My boy, Jojen, he was the one who realized it was your brother who needed help. He has the Sight. He can see things in his dreams, from the past and things that haven't happened yet.”

“Promise me, Ned.”

Ser Davos could see your unnerved silence, and decided he had not the patience for such mysteries, not after seeing what happened that night on the ship with you. His tone was short and verging on an irritation that didn't mean to be directed at anyone, but came off at the man anyways. “And how would he be able to do that?”

“I'm afraid I don't have all the answers for you. Jojen had the Sight, not myself. I only know what he told me and that is very little compared to the power behind this sort of thing.” You wanted to flee the room but you were glued down in your very feet rooted in place. “But whatever counsel I can offer to both of you, I am here to make available to you, should you wish to have it.”

Directing his attention back to Jon, you could only glance to Davos as you both felt more uneasy about what was being said on this day then either Northerners seemed to come off as. And it wasn't until you both made your leave, did either of you say word of it. “I'm not here to pass judgment, but the more people talk around you of magic and visions the more stress it's putting on your shoulders.”

Standing out in the breeze of the walkway overlooking the training yard, you both kept eyes on the men begin running through some very basics with the the young ones around. You voice distant as was the glaze over your eyes watching as if years ago looking back to yourself. At least this time you knew it was that of only a memory. “Everything always falls on Jon now, it seems only fair I take some of that burden for myself.”

Your forearms were leaning against the railing, hands clasped together as Davos moved to mimic the posture as to speak quiet to only you. “And he's far better at handling it then you.” Only a single nod was given in return, you had nothing to deny of that. “What was it they said about the Targaryeans? Every time ones born the gods flip a coin? Maybe we should check with Selyse, make sure your father's not secretly one of them, that's making you lose your mind.”

It was a joke, it was Davos making light of the worry to quell it in both of you for the conversation but it strangled you until you felt your heart pounding so hard you felt dizzy. Trying to utter out in jest, and failing at the tone, “Not sure that's how it works. You don't become mad, you're born that way and only time and power will bring it out eventually.”

He could sense something rigid in your posture that wasn't there before, but no idea what would be running through your mind to cause it. “Put a lot of thought into it, have you?”

Your eyes found Jon in the distance, and you felt that strangulation surround you and overwhelm your senses. Vines stemming from blue roses wrapping around each limb until it consumed you as they burned and pleaded of a promise.

“I grew up in the shadow of the Targaryeans. Difficult not to.”

It was in a moment alone did you finally reread it. Alone now up on the landing, you leaned down enough to grab something hidden in your boot, a long standing way you've kept papers from hidden eyes when you needed to keep it on you. Wolkan said the letter had come in while away on Dragonstone and he had only shown it to you, the contents being unusual as it was addressed to you specifically.

After learning what you had, you didn't want to risk anyone finding it out until you could ensure they were somewhere safe, enough had been done to them all at that point and so few of you left. But Jon would want to know why and for what you had to go there and you didn't want to risk that answer before you understood what was going on. Any hint of who was there in the wrong hands could mean the worst, and enough of that had happened already.

Writing in a crude style of code seemed to be a habit in that line of blood. You knew right away what was being said, however. Repeating something particular he once said. The day you and Eddard Stark had gone to the armoury of Tobho Mott, that was what the boy had said when asked if Stannis had questioned him at all.

“He never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done in for his daughter.”

You could only imagine how alone he was, for you to be the one he found a way to reach out too.

Met once and never forgotten that feeling as you looked him in the eye. Like you were looking at your twin. And now you knew two things for certain, he knew you were blood family and the only living one of Robert Baratheons bastards was Gendry.

You were glad he was alive, but you also felt somewhat ill that it wasn't Barra. She would have been what? Four years old? How horribly was she ripped away from that young girl who was her mother? All the years passed, and the young girl in Petyr Baelish's brothel likely still wouldn't even be the age you were when you met her. The brightness in her eyes as she looked at you cooing at what was your newborn cousin, asking if you agreed that she looked just like him.

And she did. Dark hair growing fast as Baratheon babies always did, bright green eyes and a look of mischief you knew was present as well in your blood. You desperately hoped the girl was doing alright. That she had gotten free of such a life and found love elsewhere that wouldn't be stricken by blood.

Knowing the kind of man Petyr Baelish was, you doubted it.

It was later Jon had startled you when he finally came across you in a moment of quiet. Very suddenly a warm presence at your back as two hands slid across before pulling you gently back against his standing position to your sitting one. “Do you know how to relax anymore?”

A hum left your throat, as a small half smirk formed on your face. “For your information, I have been scouring through letters looking for desperate marriage proposals.” A deep grunt barley made it out of Jon's chest before you huffed a laugh as the feeling of his hands increased in tightness. “I never said they were for me, my King.”

Glancing up and slightly behind you, Jon raised an eyebrow teetering on his own amusement before leaning more down to put his head more level to where yours was. Tone a deep rasp in your ear as one hand left your arm, “And I'd say no to them before I even got to their name.” Grabbing the raven scroll in your hand he mindlessly tossed it onto the table in front of you before turning you to look back at him enough he could press his lips to yours.

Soft and gentle they were, nothing but a coaxing for you to follow his lead as you relaxed into his touch with a sigh into his own mouth. A motion causing Jon to pull away only long enough to laugh a smile into his next kiss which was a little more innocent of a peck then the other. Yet just as you were to melt into him, your own hand reached up suddenly and grasped at his hand wandering towards sneaking into the top of your dress.

A chuckle left him deep as you pulled away with narrowed eyes as he pressed another kiss to the side of your head. Mumbling at him in playful disapproval, “How am I supposed to help run your kingdom when every time I get somewhere, you come along and distract me?”

Almost without even thinking, or without any effort much to your constant surprise. Jon all but yanked you up off the seat to take the place himself, pulling you back down onto his lap sideways with a yank at your dress. A small yelp leaving you as you steadying yourself with arms around his shoulders and back of his neck as you glared at him. Jon barley even reacted to your irritation. “I'm the one running this Kingdom.” A hand wrapped around your waist keeping you to him while the other gently begun to run through the hair loose at the side of you face. “You, are here to keep me from losing my mind, and to relax for once in your life.”

The same hand now danced along and begun raking through the hair at the back of your head, gently readjusting every time he came across a slight tangle to not jostle you as he did so. Your nails mindlessly scratched very lightly along his neck and what you could reach of his collarbone. “We both know one of those two things I am abysmal at.”

Grey eyes bright as he looked at you, Jon gave another half smile only a little softer to match the genuity behind the rest. “You're right. I can lose my mind just looking at you too long.” He laughed more freely the second you rolled your eyes, making your own cheeks warm at the sound. It felt like you so rarely got to hear him laugh anymore. There was rarely reason for it. Saying your name gently, he prompted you to look at him. “Everything you've been through, sometimes I think you forget that you've barley had a chance to breathe since getting away from them.”

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't even reached a year since you escaped that day with Theon, and yet it felt as if more then a lifetime had passed between you all. Many lifetimes had passed for you and Jon especially.

It was one thing after another and the only time in between them were a day or two before something else. Biting your tongue as your eyes narrowed lost away in thought, one of your hands instinctively reached up to run along the facial hair scratching at his jaw, while the other slipped right down and pressed over his heart.

Only months ago you had stepped into the Ice Cells of Castle Black and traced over the wounds in Jon's chest. Dead and cold long enough he had turned tints of blue creeping into his skin. If that was months, then the Twins felt like decades. “Hard to remember that sometimes.”

Quiet between you for a moment, you instead couldn't move past the thought. It lingered a second too long and now took up space in your consciousness that couldn't be ignored. Slowly and deliberately, you had begun the process of unlacing the shirt covering his chest. Shaking your head as he spoke your name in a question, to just let you work.

Not all the way, but you opened it enough that a hand could slip inside of the material and trace along his chest. Pulling back more naturally as you did so, you exposed the scars littered about. They looked truly just as gruesome as when they were hours fresh. You weren't sure you'd ever be able to look at them, and not feel as sick and horrified as you did the first time.

Your eyes far away as you traced them, narrowing in sharpness following the path of each and feeling how they both had not healed, but seemed to just exist outside of him. You could feel the skin around your wounds but not when one touched the scars itself, and you imagined it was the same as you did so now.

Only feeling your touch when your fingers jumped from one scar to the next and never when tracing their red path. Glancing up suddenly, you found the ones by his eye. One faint and white now as it sat at the top and bottom of his eye only visible if you were close enough. The other, sometimes it was easy to forget about. You had been used to seeing Jon with blood and scratches on him, but then there was this one.

Reaching up, you traced along it as your face could have come off as cold or angry to any who weren't the man in front of you. It still sat red. It was red and painful looking now but didn't heal since, long and curved along the side of his face by his other eye. That one wasn't healing either. You still had marks from an arrow lodged in your upper back and by your shoulder, even though at the time, you didn't even register it.

They hit you, but you barley comprehended it. You had barley comprehended your stomach, as you looked up at Robb before collapsing to the ground as you grew freezing cold in seconds.

“Why us?” Jon watched you closely, his quiet speaking the question for him. “Why only us that came back? No one else came back, that woman was trying to do some ritual to accomplish it..but we..no one did anything for us. We just..woke up..” Your hand still sat on the scar beside his eye, voice far and lost. “I didn't understand it then, and I still don't.”

Grabbing your hand for himself, Jon pressed his lips to your palm before holding it over the mark right on his heart. “Maybe we're not meant to.” Your eyes dropped, but Jon moved the arm around your waist back so he could tilt your chin back up gently to look at him. “Everyone wants to be special, or look to someone else like their special. But you and I both know coming back like this doesn't feel like that. I'm tired and walking around worried I came back so angry I'm going to lose it one day, you came back and think that you're the one everyone wants to lose it on. Coming back didn't make you and me some chosen ones, it just brought us back different.”

Your free hand continued it's path, tracing gently along his jaw and thumb brushing briefly over his bottom lip before you relented. Leaning forward to press your lips to his, leaving but a light peck that lingered as your held hands over his heart tightened together but did not leave one another. Resting your forehead against his you ran that hand along his jaw once more. “Says the one who can warg into his own direwolf.”

“That's not exclusive to me.” A small grin on his face as you almost shook your head at him.

Both of you sat in the quiet for a little while, nothing but the crackling of fire to accompany you until you spoke up once more. The dry tone returning to your voice. “By the way, your grace, you in fact did get a proposal of marriage.”

The swiftness in which Jon pretended to find interest had you drop your expression so flat it made him laugh quite a lot. Standing up from him, you pulled your dress from his attempted grasp to yank you back to him, with a childish glare. “If you're so interested, my King, go right ahead. Shame you won't have much time though, your new betrothed is rather old in her years. Bearing children might be something of a challenge, I'm afraid.”

If he had expected someone to know something of that secret, Howland Reed certainly did not think it would be the Queen in the North. Accosting him in his quarters the evening after he arrived in Winterfell for the first time in decades. But the moment you had knocked on his door, you all but barged in and locked the door behind you. Walking in towards the fireplace before turning to him as your hands braced on the wooden table in front of it.

Looking up at him as he tried to speak, you chose first. “You saved Lord Stark's life during the rebellion. Why?” Howland looked taken back for a moment when you repeated yourself but with much more sternness behind. “Why save his life? Why were you fighting to the death in the first place that day?”

Squinting in curiosity at you, he certainly played it safe. “I'd expect you know the story as well as any, we had gone there to rescue his sister, and the Kingsguard keeping her there did not take kindly to us accomplishing that.”

Once more you asked why, your eyes dark and your nerves racing like fire in your blood. “Rhaegar Targaryean took her there at the start of the rebellion, but by the time you had reached it? He was dead, the Mad King was dead. There was no one left to follow. Why fight to your death to keep an already dying teenage girl locked in a tower she can't escape from?”

Walking up to the other side of the table, Howland rested his hands more calmly at the top of the chair across you. His voice low but collected. “Kingsguard uphold their vows to a fault, even when it goes against protecting the innocent. He ordered them to keep her there, and they were going to follow it.”

The room was painfully silent before you shook your head. “She was dying, she couldn't run, she couldn't escape, there was no way to save her by then why not just let her brother come through and see her one last time? Why keep them away when the ones who gave them that order are dead, and it wouldn't make a difference to let him in the room to see his dying little sister?”

There was a pause in the man's eyes that you didn't miss for a second. It was a painful subject, you suspected few had ever asked in an aggressive manner as such before. Not to him at the least.

“If I could tell you why they would not allow it, I would. But I can't-”

“Can't you?” Standing up with an inhale you paced mindlessly deeper in the room before spinning to face him, arms crossing in front of you. “Lyanna was dying, you all would have found out eventually, it doesn't make sense to act as if they could hide that forever.” Your eyes found his, and he didn't move an inch. “Unless Lyanna wasn't the one in that tower they were trying to hide.”

The tension could be cut thick, it was brutal as both parties gave nothing away in their expressions almost in expert. “How did you-”

“I dreamt it.” You knew to a man like him, he'd take that without explanation but it sounded so silly as it came from your mouth you instantly stepped forward to justify it in ramblings. “I saw something in my dreams, more than once I saw it and it all kept leading me to that day and I never quite could figure it out until..” Sighing out, you leaned against the table with your back turned against it.

Your voice was hardly a whisper. Looking over to Howland he stood in stillness watching with any breathe hardly passing through him. “Everyone used to say Arya looked like Lyanna, but in truth she just looked enough like Ned that being a girl made the connection in their minds. But that also means if Ned looked enough like Lyanna that his own daughter was similar in appearance to her..then he would have an easy time passing off Lyanna's son as his own, wouldn't he?”

Once more he didn't speak, and you knew he wouldn't until you stripped this secret down to it's raw truth no matter how much you hated it. So you looked right at Howland Reed, giving him one more chance. “Who is Jon's father?”

His only response was but a whisper, “Ned was the man who raised him, who loved him. That's the father that matters.”

But it made you upset. It wasn't just about that, it wasn't a doubt of love. It was about a truth that had plagued Jon his entire life that was the core of so much of what happened. Turning to him, you spoke just as quiet. “Jon's wanted to know who his mother was his whole life. He's never felt without a father, he knows he had a father who loved him. But he deserves to know who his mother was.” Stepping closer your voice dropped more. “I know she begged him to promise to keep him safe, but look around. What of his life would put him at such risk anymore if he knows? It'll hurt, but it's always hurt him not knowing.”

Howland was dreadfully serious, “Ned kept that secret for almost twenty five years and he died with it. I've kept it now almost thirty, we did it to protect him. What happens if people knew? We could have done anything. Do what was done with the Mad Kings youngest, ship him off to Essos. Hid him somewhere in the realm with a no one family where he'd never find out, have him raised somewhere in the North away from Catelyn and her children but he didn't.” His whisper was angry as it was upset in your eyes. “He took that child in and raised him as his own son, because he loved him as his own son. With him, Ned knew without a doubt he could be safe.”

It choked in your throat, turning away as you ran a hand over your mouth to force it back down before you spoke. A sick memory coming back up and it felt dizzying to know. It was never just about right or wrong, it wasn't just about honour.

“You'll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

You almost didn't say it but it came out of its own accord. “Robert would have killed him.”

Looking to Howland, he stepped closer much less defence in his posture as you both ended up sitting down at the table to steady you on your uneasy feet now. “She was dying, covered in blood gods know how they had so little care that they left her there like that. He was no more then a week old when we got there, so she had to spend a week with her newborn son. Knowing the whole time she was going to die, and not knowing until that final day what would happen to him when she did.” It choked in Howland's voice too, a long time likely since he thought of what happened in that room.

Finding his eyes you recounted that day in the small council chamber, what the news was, what Roberts reaction was and Ned's too. “Gods it was never about honour, it wasn't about what was right. He stood there listening to his closest friend prove that even now if he found out the truth, it wouldn't make a difference.”

“Why do you think he let him join the Night's Watch?” You looked away from him, something choking in your throat. “His family was about to be deeply intertwined with the royal family again, and letting him go to the wall meant he was as far from anyone who would know or find out as could be. He was doing what he thought was best to protect him. That's what he always tried to do, he loved that boy until his last day I can promise you that.”

It was quiet in the room, and what you said next broke that as if your whisper was a shout. “I'm going to tell him.” Standing up, Howland followed coming to your side instantly in protest but you shook your head. “He needs to know-”

“We've kept this secret for decades to protect him, what was this all for if we just-”

Your voice however, wavered in more shattering upset rather then the anger you wished it sounded as instead. “Jon deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know he had a mother who loved him, and he deserves to know why she isn't here.”

Trying to move in your path, Howland kept you from reaching the door. “Twenty five years Ned let people think he was unfaithful to his wife to keep this a secret, let Jon be raised thinking he was the one who caused that smear on his honour.” Trying to keep you at arms bay, “Ned Stark did not do this to spend all of it in vain-”

But you shook from his grasp in an anger. It wasn't about them anymore, any of them. “This may have been Ned's secret, but it's Jons life.”

You hadn't been in the crypts since burying Rickon. You hadn't really been in Winterfell long enough to spend much time of any in here since that night. But you knew the path without any effort into figuring it out, or even paying attention.

Which you couldn't do, not now. Walking down here close to the ground where beneath the castle floors laid hot springs which kept the halls as warm as could be in the winter. You could feel your heart racing and your head filled with a lightness that made you dizzy but you had no choice now. It wasn't about you.

It was cruelly fitting, that Jon was down in the crypts to see his father as you walked to him. The truth was going to be all around him with no one but you to force it onto him and you hated it. You wished you could let Jon be ignorant and happier for it, but he deserved better then that. Everything he has been through, you wanted him to have the truth of his life.

But as you approached, Jon turned to the sound of your footsteps. Your name gentle on his lips and it carved a horrible agony in your lungs that stole your remaining breathe. Coming up to him, you paused as you took one last look before you ruined it. Again.

Hair still pulled back from the day, and not quite kicking the habit of his once position, the leathers and fabrics on him were sparser then before but dipped in black. A Snow, a Northerner more then any you'd ever met, and that was who he was inside, but you had to say it anyways. It was the right thing to do, but it didn't feel it.

You didn't notice you hadn't said anything until Jon gently cupped the sides of your cheeks, tilting you up to look at him, grey eyes bright and soft that made you want to cry to shatter them. His voice was a gentle rasp as he leaned down to you more, “Darling, talk to me. What happened?”

Looking up at him, you could only think in retrospective, that maybe you should have stolen one last kiss. You were already forgetting what it felt like in the days since. Sitting at a table inside of a tavern in Barrowton, looking across to Gendry certainly felt like another lifetime away from that night in the crypt however.

Tilting your head in question, you drew the sound of the letters out. “Satin?” Narrowing at you back you opened your mouth slightly to guide him into mouthing the fake name you had so he could say it out loud in the ruse. Keep it up as long as you two were in public at least.

“Mya? Would say I almost didn't recognize you, but think we both know that's a lie.” Pointing down at Olly he asked, “Whose this?” A suspicion on his face that you easily dismissed with a wave of your hand in his direction.

Your tone trying much more to fall into something a little less proper, a little less practised in formality then your father taught you for in public again. “Let's call him my ward. Ward this is Satin, Satin this is my ward, Olly.”

Leaning with a narrowed whisper, the boy asked why you got a fake name but he didn't, but it was Gendry who answered for you as he sat down. “Beacuse your a kid, and no one cares about the name of some kid in the middle of the North.”

Looking at you, and you back, there was a strange moment between you, where you two almost laughed simultaneously. Choosing instead to lean your arms against the table, “So, I heard my father tried to kill you. Glad we have something in common.”

Olly watched the tense silence, before watching in even more confusion as it was that which made the pair of you give a disbelieving laugh. A ridiculous set of events and ruin brought you here finally, but you at least knew one thing so far.

Gendry thankfully seemed to have inherited Robert Baratheon's ability to laugh in the most bizarre or uncomfortable situations. Ordering something for him to eat, you had a feeling the three of you were going to have a long night ahead.

Perhaps it should have been weirder, how easy it was to talk to him. But also, in a way it wasn't totally dissimilar to the way in which you got along with Renly. An easier going personality without as much smugness that made you want to slap your uncle sometimes, that was a major difference in a positive way. It was clear Gendry wasn't looking at things in terms of the life he could've had but rather the one he always did anyways.

“Nothing left for me in Kings Landing, tried figuring out where to go. Spent some time on and off ships anyways since, finding work, failing to find work. Not much out there.” Leaning forward, your gloves taken off as you had tried to find yourself more settled as you had asked him about how he even got this far North in the first place.

Glancing up, noting it getting at least somewhat darker out in the back of your head. “How bad are we talking?” Your mind trying to stretch all the way to the Riverlands and knowing you were simply without reach and even if you could who was left there to care who you used to be.

Shrugging, “Kept away from it mostly.” Biting your tongue you glanced a few times to the night sky out trying to keep the thoughts back again as he continued. “Anywhere that isn't at war is just poor and hungry. Think up here is the only place anyone has anything even sort of together.”

Arm crossing over the table, you narrowed your eyes at a spot of nothing in thought. “Wasn't easy getting here, only have barley begun even..” Looking up, it was as if both knew a conversation to happen but not here in the public view. “It's rather late, especially for this one.” Olly protesting as you nudged him as if a young child.

“If you've got nowhere planned to say, I have a spare room.” Gutting his chin outside to an Inn nearby explaining, “As long as I do the lady there free work, she lets me keep a room. Knowing how to smash metal with a hammer comes in handy anywhere turns out.”

The night was far cooler then when you had entered. The sky black and stars shining above as if none of the world turmoiled below them. Wrapping your cloak around you more tightly, and without a second of your own notice forcing Olly to do the same as if fussing over him. The air showing your breathe with every step. “How in seven hells do you get used to this?”

Glancing to you specifically, you shrugged. “Spent half my life here, either you get used to the cold or you complain and everyone is annoyed for it.” That glare wasn't meaningful but you didn't pass by how easily he looked at you in a familiar bantering as if you hadn't met more then just once over four years ago.

Teeth almost shaking as he walked, “Well I'm not used to it. So you best get used to me complaining about it.”

As Gendry made his way to the Inn front, you paused as you stepped right before the doors threshold, a strange feeling making something in your spine crawl up and leave a tingling behind. People were walking and passing but nothing that stood out and yet you watched anyways. As if sensing eyes on you, but there was nothing in your sights, and you walked in regardless.

“You're being silly.”

An almost indignant tone came over Sam as he looked at Gilly with a look he hoped was serious. “I am not, I think we have good reason to be careful. What we have?”

Giving him a doubtful look, Gilly turned to Little Sam who was now actively taking things from her own bowl of stew and putting it in his mouth. It had been a long trip, and just getting to the North itself had taken its tole on the small boy. “Who are the maesters going to send? Or know where we are?” Trying to feed her son now instead of letting him run rampant, she then gave Sam a look. “You should eat too.”

Grimacing, the sheer idea of it now made him unwell. The journey to Oldtown the first time was no pleasant experience, but this time it was a smaller ship on even rockier waters. The moment they sailed up the smaller rivers to where they were to stop in Barrowton, Sam had to all but put the texts he took with him on the other side of their small room he was so sure he was going to throw up on them.

Now they sat with their small amount of things at his side, or would stay in their room as long as they were here. The small set of tables sat on the bottom floor of the Inn, not many were around as the night grew colder and people settled in. Not that cold bothered them the same way, not where they met.

“If I eat now, I'll be getting up in three minutes to bring it back out as soon as it hits my stomach.” He glanced with a playful glare at Little Sam, who when catching the look playfully gave one back. “I wish I was as good as you are, napping whenever we set sail. Would save myself a lot of trouble.”

For the most part they ignored everyone else, they weren't staying here long. Enough to rest, and make a plan to get to Winterfell easy as possible. It was weird to think about, Sam had never seen it before and never thought he'd have reason too. But now, he was heading there not just for one person he knew, but to request an audience.

Glancing back to Gilly, Sam leaned in a bit as if keeping a secret, when in truth everyone around him obviously was entirely aware of who Jon was. “Hard to imagine that he's King of this, all of this. How do we even think that happened? He turned down King Stannis's offer of being Lord of Winterfell, turned down being made a Stark but now he's King in the North. You think he wears a crown?”

Little Sam laughed, trying to get out half decent sentences in his young age and on top of being just tired enough to not swallow his food before doing so. “He'd look funny,”

Gilly turned him more to face her with a grin, “Do you even remember what he looks like?” Her hands poking at her son playfully. The small little family sat there, minding their own when the front door opened to let the cold wind blow in. Just enough that mists of snow flickered about the floor.

Two dark haired figures walked in, one looking more at an ease while the other had sharp eyes looking around with a more stern expression which matched the cold outside. A shorter, younger one came in close to the woman, but instinctively Sam drew his attention elsewhere. But, just as fast as Sam glanced away, he looked back suddenly with his own sharper gaze. But the third person he had looked back for now was turned with his back to them and a thick cloak covering most of him.

Gilly had to call his name twice before Sam looked back to her, as she asked what was he looking at. But Sam watched the now empty staircase as they disappeared down the hall, eyes blinking heavily as he shook them out. “Been at sea too long. Think we could all do with some sleep.”

Too many nights with his head overboard, and Sam was already starting to see things.

“He seems attached to you.” Glancing to the now closed door where Olly slept, both you and Gendry shared a more sullen glance. “Just something I've noticed in the whole two hours I've known you.”

Shrugging, you turned from the sight with more down trodden of a tone then before only hinted with a tinge of amusement. “If we include the first time we met, we can make it a whole two hours and three minutes.” The chuckle shared was genuine from him, not from you and he easily picked that up. A long beat passed before you turned the mood down significantly, a weight heard in your throat. “I almost don't want to ask how you found out the truth.”

It shifted in him as well, something more serious and uncomfortable to think on. “Where do I even start? Where I left Kings Landing the first time, or when the red woman showed up.” Your eyes flew over to him with a dark tint as your jaw clenched, and you felt that sinking inside you. “I ended up in the Riverlands, was with the Brotherhood Without Banners and they told me I could stay on with them, serve Lord-”

Interrupting him, a hand waving out as your face twisted in confusion. “Maybe we should begin where I had last actually seen you, because I feel as if I've missed a few key details.”

It was simple, explaining how his master got sick of him, sold him to the Nights Watch and left him on the Kingsroad. That was until he mentioned the Gold Cloaks. “They showed up, came looking for a bastard named Gendry. Yoren threatened them, told them to piss off and they left. Until more came in the middle of the night a while later..killed a bunch of people and took the rest of us hostage to Harrenhal.”

Everything as Lord Tywin Lannister showed up, and you felt a sickness in your blood trying not to think of that night. Explaining that they had escaped when you once more interrupted. Asking when this all had happened. Trying to estimate a time, you had begun doing your own thoughts in your head and you not in any way liked the implications that you came close too. By the time Tywin had left, they escaped soon after and you realized how close you had missed him by.

Were you already on the road to Harrenhal when this happened? How close to Edmure's attack did they come? “I don't know how she did it, but Arya managed to get this Jaqen fellow to help us-”

“Arya?” If your blood cooled before it ran fast and dizzying now.

Nodding, he seemed to think perhaps you knew but judging by the slightly agape of your mouth and wide eyes in disbelief, he realized that no, maybe it made sense you didn't know about this. “Yoren was taking her to Winterfell, disguised as a boy, or trying to at least. Convinced this guy Jaqen to help us and we escaped, ended up running into the Brotherhood and in turn ran into The Hound.”

Your arms came up to the table between you, resting your forehead in your palm as your elbow sat perched. The world spun too much then and now, too much here and there and names you never thought you'd hear of again. The last you had seen Arya was the morning you were arrested, she had been upset she was leaving, but still otherwise was just a girl. But this tale Gendry spun wasn't one that would have let her stay that way.

No one had heard from her, and every mention from the capitol didn't include her and you, Robb, and Catelyn all didn't like to talk about what you felt that implied. Most seemed to presume her dead, and you had none the reason to think otherwise, and yet you sat with a pull at your heart that she had been so close.

She was so close to her family, Robb came so close to getting to her and now it was all for nothing again. “Anyways, the red woman showed up, and they sold me to her. Dragged me off in a cage and I never saw Arya again. Don't know where she is, or if she's still alive. All I know is how mad she was when the woman came and took me. Not that things went well after that either.”

You two were there for a while, a back and forth of what happened, what the red woman did and what your father almost let her do until Ser Davos was the only one who did the right thing. It was nothing short of a miracle Gendry would even want to try and find you after all of that. The quiet burned around you both, and there was little left in either of you to say.

You lacking the ability to have words you knew to say, and Gendry used up the remains of ones he had all spoken. Nothing meaningful at least. “Said something about how there's power in our blood, whatever that means.”

It burned under your dress, the scar. There was something in your blood, blood from Kings as you sat alive with a wound so fatal you faded in but minutes. But how would you even tell him that? Tell anyone that. No one understood, no one but one, and you had no idea if he even still cared. Or you were just too much of a coward to want to know.

“So what now?” Gendry meeting your eyes, finding a purposely colder and stiff look giving little away in your own. “You're in the North, what do you do now? Stay here or what?”

Shrugging, he leaned back in his seat. Glancing to the window shining bright before speaking with a casualness you wished you had ever possessed. “Don't know. Most of my life I've just been dragged from one thing to another. Never really had much choice all on my own before now. Think I'm just trying to enjoy what that feels like for the first time.” You nodded absentmindedly before he gestured to you. “What about you? Queen in the North all the way out here pretending to be some commoner like me, what's your plan?”

Nothing of how you were here was like you, but what else did you know anymore? Who were you but a liar, and liars don't get to have detailed life plans as you had done so before. You had no answer, and it seemed he filled in the blanks for you.

“Maybe you could try being me for once. Just do whatever comes your way until something else drags you away from that. Not very Queen like but it's not like you care about looking like one.” Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare tinged with an exhaustion as he chuckled to himself. “Came all this way to meet me, we might as well stay here a bit and find out if we hate each other or not.”

You almost laughed, and he at least caught the intent in your eye. “Won't take long I imagine. Not like my side of this family is known for our charm.” Your eyebrows raised in a passive amusement as his brightened with more of a nodding grin. “Though, I can't say Robert was exactly the perfect image of an admirable man.”

As you stood up, Gendry followed with a question of his own. “Is that meant to be mocking me?”

You shrugged one shoulder, “Do you drink a lot?” He shook his head no, “Spend a lot of time with whores?” The shake of his head that time was a fervent no. Waving a hand in the air before letting it drop to your side, you relented. “Already have two things more going for you then Robert did.”

It was quiet again for a bit, at least until like children you found things both to be petty about. Gendry it seemed, wasted no time in finding ways to make fun of you for with your title. “I would be humbled for the Queen to take my only remaining bed. Sleeping on the floor would do me a great honour.”

Throwing a small pillow at him, which he caught with ease, you shook your head as you passed him by, moving towards the main room away from both chambers. “I slept on the floor of a dungeon for six months, I think I can manage one more night without a bed.”

Gendry turned with a point. “Is everyone in our family this insufferable?” When you smirked, he tried not to as well. “At least we're consistent.”

As the night progressed and more silence fell over the quarters of the Inn, you could at least find any semblance of solace that this truth of family did not destroy the only good thing you had in your life, not yet anyways.

Sam could not figure out why the trio he saw the night before was still fresh on his mind. It was as if in another life they were people he had met, when Sam had hardly been anywhere in Barrowton yet beyond the docks and the path to the Inn. Even now as Gilly and Little Sam were beside him, as she was enjoying the sights as she always managed too, Sam was still thinking about it.

He could see closer to the water front, two figures. Backs to him, but one with long dark hair against a thin cloak which reminded him of before until he realized it was in fact them. The boy was next to her, and the third of the group was nowhere to be seen as of yet. He hadn't wanted to seem as if spying was what he was doing, but as Gilly was distracted, and he couldn't help himself.

Closer, but far enough away a man like Sam appeared no out of the ordinary, he could barley hear voices. The boy sounded familiar, but not recognizable through the fading distance and the woman was closer anyways. He was sure he had not recognized hers, but she spoke more refined then her appearance would speak of.

“Have you never been this close to the open water before?” The boy shook his head no, and the girl nudged his shoulders for a moment, leaning more against the stone. “This is nothing, you should see how the sea looks on a ship. Only water for miles, like it never ends.”

“Maybe it doesn't.” The boy still didn't peel his eyes from the view. “My father used to say the Sunset Sea never ends, no one's ever survived a journey out there.”

What sounded like a smile could be heard on her voice, even from where Sam strained. “Is that what sounds adventurous to you? Well let me know when you plan dying at sea, I'll pay for the ship myself if you are so inclined.” Another pause between them, Sam wasn't sure what the boy said, he was rather quiet against the sounds of the town around them, but she once more spoke far clearer, making her the one Sam could listen too. “You follow along the river long enough, you'll reach out to Blazewater Bay and from there the sea is yours to follow as much as you want. Maybe you'll end up on the other side of the world eventually.”

He said something and the woman laughed fairly freely. “I don't know if I have ever heard something sound so amusingly forced coming from your mouth before. But I'll have to pass on that opportunity. I have no interest in seeing that far West, or East for that matter. Westeros is large enough as it is for how little I've seen of it.”

“Sam?” Turning his head, Gilly has rejoined him with a question bright in her eyes. “What are you doing?” All three of them looked the way Sam did, the pair speaking too quiet to catch either of their voices now.

Tilting his head, he wondered if he had spent too much time around Maesters and the open sea. He was starting to read into things which didn't exist. He had too much on his plate to start that now, he would have too much to look into anyways when they got there, part of him still hoped he would be allowed to stay, just for a little while.

Looking back to Gilly, he shook his head. “Thought one of them looked familiar, is all. Are you ready to go back, yet or is there more you want to see?”

Thinking to herself for a moment, she adjusted Little Sam in her arms, before both of them glanced back to each other with a more amused look. “I think Sam here might start getting cranky if we're out here much longer.” The poor boy looked tired, spending that much time so young at sea must not be good for a young one his age.

Trying to look as if he was fine, Sam smiled as he didn't buy it. Running a hand over Little Sam's bright blonde hair, he leaned in. “Then how about we find you and your mother something to eat before she gets cranky right with you.”

Indignant as she was amused, Gilly protested. “I do not get cranky.”

Sam could only laugh as they begun to walk. “Oh, yes you do.” But it was then he looked over the closer they walked. The perfect moment did Sam look and the boy turned around to the town and Sam stopped in an instant.

Looking at one another, Sam knew he recognized him. Nudging Gilly, he whispered as his eyes kept on the boys, now wide as it registered to him as well. “Gilly isn't that-” Sam had no inclination as to why, but he looked not in a register of familiarity as they parted was of, but something fearful.

Her own eyes narrowed in confused recognition. “What is he doing all the way out here?” Too right a question Sam thought, what was all the way in Barrowton a place Olly just so happened to be in? With a pair he didn't recognize and certainly given a woman was by his side, not from the Nights Watch either.

Both had approached that direction, but Olly had turned to the woman by then. Speaking in low tones, her head turned around and a dark, narrowed look came about her eyes as she whipped it back in whispering tones. Back and forth they went until she turned to face as they approached.

All but forcing Olly to stand behind her protective stance. Whatever they were whispering about, it left Olly more on edge then Sam had seen the boy in a very long time.

Sam knew they were not ones looking threatening, but the woman glared at them as if they posed one all the same. Regardless, Sam asked, “Olly, what are you doing all the way out here?”

But he glanced over to the woman, who kept him behind her without question. As she spoke without wavering or question, there was more then just something refined in her tone, there was something that of a stern authority as she only asked a question in reply. “How do you know him?”

Head tilting back a back, Sam was a bit on air of confused as Olly seemed tense and her even moreso. It was a strange way to see him again. Sam trying to explain himself as not confronting as possible, but he barely got half a sentence out before she struck another question. “I, he came to Castle Black, we met-”

“What's a man of the Night's Watch doing in Barrowton then?”

Truly he, Gilly and Little Sam couldn't possibly look that much of a threat. But as she offered up no information, Sam realized he wasn't sure what to say either. After everything it took to get all the way North again, he had not prepared such an explanation for that wasn't the only truth he thought he'd need to share. So caught up in where he needed to go, forgetting what he'd tell people on the way. “Olly, is everything alright? You know this woman-”

“You think he's with me against his will?” More taken back, Gilly beside him was quiet as she was also watching the woman with a curiosity that she seemed to not appreciate. “He is with me under my protection, no less, no worse.”

It was then Gilly stepped forward, trying her own hand with a quiet but lulling sound to her voice, “Look, maybe we should start over, we meant no harm. Just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Olly's voice was short but Sam wasn't sure why. He seemed defensive in a fearful way, not aggressive as the woman was. “I'm fine. I was sent here to look for someone, and Mya was helping me. She's my friend.” Easing up a bit it seemed, she moved so her arm wrapped back to pull him more into her side, still not quite as openly hostile but refusing to ease up on her distrust.

Sam paid no mind right away. “Sent by who? Jon- well I suppose not, if he isn't Lord Commander anymore. Whose there if he's King now? Oh, I'd hate for it to be Ser Alliser.” Something uneasy sat between the two of them that was hard to understand. But Gilly once more spoke up.

Readjusting her hold of her son before looking around and back. “We just wanted to know if he was okay, we meant no harm. Right, Sam?”

Sam, looked at her almost offended for a moment as if that thought never crossed his mind. That he could look the one who was threatening. “What?” Before whipping back to the woman, Mya. “No, of course not. I just..I know what you've been through, Olly. I just wanted to know why you were all the way out here alone.”

“Well, he's not alone.”

He hadn't answered why if he was from the Nights Watch why he was here and neither had she explained what she was doing there with Olly, and yet the tension was broken by a growing familiar figure walking up almost the most confused. The dark haired man Sam saw enter the Inn first the night before. He spoke far quicker, and with a much more casual attitude. “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get yourself into trouble?” Their eyes almost glared at one another before he turned around to face Sam with a far more simple air of apology. “Sorry about my sister, I got our mothers charm, she got our fathers attitude.” Turning to her with an amused glint in his eye, “Just so talented at making friends everywhere you go, aren't you?”

It was hard to tell if the look in her eye was wanting to shove her brother, or tell him to shut up. A close tie it seemed, that won draw in doing nothing but glare. Sam looked between them both, before turning to the two beside him. “You're right, we should start over. I'm Sam, this is Gilly.”

Gilly nodding to the young one in her arms, “And you can call this one Little Sam.”

If anyone, which was everyone, was surprised at how easily Mya lightened up, it was tenfold as she gave a little wave to Little Sam, who gave a shy wave back that had her smile gently. Her brother directing attention back. “I'm Satin, this is my sister Mya. We're just helping Olly here out is all, meant no trouble for the Nights Watch or anything. Gods know it's cold enough here without being forced the way up there for getting in your way.”

Gilly looked at her curiously, and still she and Sam could tell Mya didn't like it one bit. But despite the distrust, she ignored the look in Gilly's eye, and came up with the suggestion anyways.

Mya's green eyes more then once had glanced to how closely they kept their things on them, and Sam could only hope they didn't think her a thief or anything. He'd keep their things close no matter what, it was just not simple to explain that. Little Sam now sat on the opposite of the table to her, as all six of the group had agreed to sit down and perhaps start over a little less hostile. Olly stuck by her side, deathly quiet but calm.

“I'm not sure there's anything nice I'd say about Bravvos. Crowded, and it feels like every other person is judging you knowing you don't fit in.” Somehow the discussion had turned to what places they all had seen and without revealing much details as to why he was there, Sam found himself going on about their time in Bravvos.

Sipping at the ale in the mug given to him, Satin tilted his head a bit. “Anything's better then Flea Bottom. Crowded, dirty, everyone's poor. Half the nobles there are too afraid to go to the sept without protection like we're going to attack them at random or something.”

Gilly asked if that was where they both were from, and for a moment they glanced at one another in a matching expression he couldn't figure out before Mya answered for them. “Was. Sometimes it felt though like I'd go years without seeing you, how busy we both were down there.”

Not quite realized at the table, the degree of lying happening on all sides and yet it wasn't being even slightly addressed.

“So is he yours?” Nodding to Little Sam and then to Sam himself, Satin gestured with a pointed look. “I mean he's named after you, just wondering why someone from the Nights Watch is allowed to have a kid.” Mya whipped her head over in a glare, making him raise his hands back slightly in defence. “Just making conversation, not like you're doing anything about that one.”

Sam however, just chuckled. “No, it's alright. It isn't normal, I know but-”

“He's not breaking his vows.” Olly looking up, glancing between he and Mya. “Our vows say we will take no wife and father no children. So really, you haven't done anything wrong, right?”

Something on the air of relieved came over Sam, nodding as he looked at the two with him. “I'm not his blood father, so I don't think that's actually breaking a rule. Besides, I'd guess there are a few brothers who probably have one or two somewhere and don't know it. The amount of them who used to sneak off to Mole's Town for a little sally on the side,”

Leaning a bit forward, her eyes narrowed at him almost in mocking. “Sally on the side?”

Saying he was trying to be discreet in front of the child, Olly ironically spoke up with a more boy like ingidnance. “I'm thirteen, not seven. And I do know what a brothel is.”

At the same time amusingly enough, in a flat tone both siblings simply said “You shouldn't.”

His hands smacking down on his legs, as Mya turned back. Her question was innocuous, or so she had thought. “I was wondering, if you're going back to Castle Black why come through Barrowton? Don't most go through to Eastwatch by the Sea since the path from there is straight?”

Sam and Gilly glanced at each other, “Well, we need to make a stop first. And it was easier to do it getting on the Kingsroad.” Her brows narrowed in question, and only her posture slightly tensed as she found such an answer. “We only stopped here to rest, and find an easy way to stop at Winterfell first.”

“Why?”

Mya was blunt, not rude but didn't quite mince her words trying to get to the point of what someone was saying. In a strange way, in fact, in a guilty way, Sam almost briefly had thought to himself that Jon would like her. “I have..information that I think the King in the North should be made aware of.”

Her quiet afterwards though, spoke something odd in and of itself.

It wasn't until evening fell upon the town, Sam and Gilly spoke amongst themselves, did it come up. Glancing to Mya, Satin, and Olly all in a smaller circle discussing something did she turn with a curious look back to Sam. “Doesn't she remind you of someone?”

Sam looked with furrowed eyes but from here the girl had turned enough he struggled to see her face from anything but the side. “I don't know, I can't really see that much detail from all the way over here. Why who does she remind you of?”

Confident in her voice, she also had no way to know. “Shireen. The princess, King Stannis's daughter.”

Sam squinted from where he sat, only to relent with ease. “Oh, you're sort of right. She does look sort of like Shireen. Of course, unless King Stannis has a pair of twins he doesn't know about.” The two of them however, just looked back at Mya again. It was odd, to Gilly, she really looked strikingly like Shireen just as her twin brother in his way looked like King Stannis.

Sam however, was distracted thinking of something else entirely. He hadn't seen Jon in over a year by now. What happened to make him a King? How did that relate to him fighting against the Army of the Dead? Was Jon coping with you being gone any better, or was it worse? Living in the castle he both grew up in and fell in love with you in. It was only a matter of time before he found out, he supposed.

Sam just hoped that Jon would understand why he came all this way to see him. Glad though, that he'd be seeing him in Winterfell and not Castle Black right away, where he knew Ser Alliser likely would be ready to take charge and demean Sam for just one more thing he failed at.

Much later into the night, it was a fire that started the events. Rumblings outside that grew until they became yells. Many wandered out into the cold of the night only to see a glow of orange and red light the sky up as a building in the distance was engulfed in flames. All walked out the doors to see what appeared from nowhere, only for that of arrows to fly out.

In the watching confusion, many were hit and warnings were yelled of “Raiders,” and it was from the opposite sides of the flames they came out. Using it as a distraction to sneak from the dark behind and screams yelled as blood was spilled.

Sam had grabbed Gilly, her clutching Little Sam to her chest and taken back by the sudden onslaught of chaos. Pulling her into an alcove, he held Heartsbane as if he was confident enough to use it. Not so far away, he could see the girl, Mya, grabbing Olly imploring him to hide, and Olly protesting. “I'm not lea-”

Grabbing him by the upper arms, she seemed to give him one firm shake, “You hide, understand? Hide,” Pushing him to the side of the street did Sam and Gilly grab him. The later pulling the struggling Olly to her front as she held Little Sam tight in the other.

Eyes wide, Sam watched as Mya did what he wished he could. Finding a dagger on her person, he watched her fight with such a practiced ease it was no fluke. Her move to attack and defend in a way commoners didn't know how to, or shouldn't.

Pulling it out did it slice through a mans neck, Mya then turned and dodged another before shoving that same blade into the back of his neck. Fire blazing that drew people to an area, and men everywhere that appeared to only be here to cause chaos and death as Sam felt his heart begin to pound. Fighting up close in one on one combat wasn't how he killed a Thenn, and this time he felt the fear that he knew Gilly and Little Sam were nowhere safe if he left to fight here and now.

Brave men of the North did what they always did though, fight to protect their people. Swords, axes, blades, many came out and some were slaughtered while others cut down those coming at them.

More then once did he watch Satin and Mya both yank the unarmed and innocents back behind them, and sneak up to run the blade through those attacking them. Turning in time, did one man almost get the best of the girl, pushing him back enough before she could get hit. Flipping the blade in her hand, she moved faster then he did, only to confuse him enough as she almost spun to duck under his thrusting arm.

His body turning to her, only to have it shoved deep into his eye, splattering it across the side of Myas face. If this was one thing she could do that was impressive, as her eyes caught Sam she gestured to Heartsbane and yelled, “Do you know how to use that?”

Glancing down, he responded, “Probably not as well as you.” He held it out as she grabbed the hilt and not for a second did she seem to consider anything more. Sam watched, and it hit something odd in him, that in her own way, Mya's way of fighting was quick and graceful.

It reminded him of Jon.

As the clashing of metal dimmed in one's ears did figures come from the distance of where the fire was. They looked more put together then the wild men sent the people's way and as the dark haired twins pushed a group into the nearest door, they both turned with a heave as the men spoke with a yell of authority. A yell of a name Sam hadn't heard in a long time.

“We seek your Queen in the North, that is all. No one else needs to die tonight, but you will have to hand her over.” Satin glanced at Mya, as did Olly, and it was only then did Sam catch the way both of them felt a fear did something unknowing grow inside his chest. No, he thought, she was dead, everyone knew she was dead, and yet these men seemed to think she was hiding here.

An arrow came and hit from random, sending someone to the ground, and quick another as the figure thought none of it. Those Sam did not know the name of held bravery as they stood defiant, “The Queen isn't here, and even if she was we wouldn't hand her over.”

Chuckling the man looked almost uncaring in his eyes. “We don't need you to do it, your precious Queen will hand herself over. Isn't that right, dear?” Arms held out with no weapon and no fear he shouted. “The longer she hides the more of her people suffer on her behalf.”

Two arrows quick shot out, as soon as screaming came to follow, Satin had aggressively moved in an instant to hold his sister back. Turning with something painful and red in her eyes, she tried to move again only to have Sam step forward as well. Arm outstretched as if he wanted to do something, but there was a feeling deeper behind his eyes that made the weariness in Mya's look worse.

And suddenly, he knew, that you knew, Sam just figured it out.

Jon's girl was alive and right in front of him and Sam hadn't realized it until it seemed like it was too late. The men shouted more as you now stood shaking in the group with a jaw so clenched Sam thought it might snap.

“See we don't want any trouble, you people've done nothing wrong yet. But your Queen has a higher power she has to answer to, sins that demand she pay for and if not? We'll just keep killing people right here until she does.”

Sam and Satin both went to stop you again, but you shoved against them, stepping right into the clearing. A smug smile came over the one leading them as he stepped forward as well. Whispers rippled through those still watching. Loud and yet controlled, Sam could see your your eyes blazing strongly almost as the fire behind the men. “Who are you?”

“Come with us and find our for yourself, your grace. Or we could always decide to approach the King in the North to let him decide, I'm sure a man as honourable as he would graciously take your place.”

You were silent, and everyone watched in worry. The moment you spoke Satin tried to walk to you as Sam did, Gilly holding Olly to her as he seemed in a panic. Your voice however, when you did speak finally was heavy.

“On one condition.” Protests waved through the people but you held a hand up as they obeyed in quiet without question. “You leave this city, and these people. I go with you, and when we are done, you leave the North and do not come back. Not for them, not for my King. You want me to answer for my sins? Then I answer for the rest of the North. I'm not here to send any of my people to a slaughter.”

Just as he smiled with a deal, did Gilly have to pull Olly back again. “You can't-”

“It's too late, lad. Your Queen has given herself over for your safety. Very admirable, if the accused stands true it might be the only honourable thing she's ever done.” Sam watched as you said nothing in a glare, only for it to soften when you looked to the group then finding Olly. Shaking your head, but he tried to protest as this time, he didn't hide the tears in his eyes watching you.

Holding your hand out, palm to the men, you made a slow path to go to Sam as he closed the distance. Handing him the blood soaked blade, your eyes begged him in what almost looked like a sorry as he grabbed it from you. Sam wanted to do too much he wasn't capable of. You were supposed to be dead. But it was Satin who broke the silence again. “Anguy?”

The one with the bow raised an eyebrow, “Would you look at that. It feels like it's been a long time, Gendry. Happy to see you aren't dead, yet.” So Mya was really you and Satin was hiding his true name as well, and you travelled with Olly? What in seven hells had Sam stumbled across?

Coming forward, the archer seemed he was the only one to be recognized by Gendry and the rest remained in the dark. “You come with us, but we're taking Gendry and the fat one too.” Pointing to where Sam was close to you. “As collateral. You run, we kill them. You see your trial through to the end and we let them go. So you don't run, your grace. Understood?”

Only the two next to you could see the conflict. The water behind them wanting to fall and the way your muscles and jaw all tensed as it all went to hell once more. Gilly yelled for Sam, and Sam shouted back. “Take Olly and Sam, get to Winterfell, find Jon-” But he was grabbed as was the weapon in his hand as the innocents yelled in protest. Sam could see the devastated way you and Olly watched one another before his vision was over taken just as the men put a hood over you and Gendry as well.

You knew painfully, it had turned into a mess mess. The way he looked at you as you said it was bad, but the way he barley could look at you now that it was out there, was worse.

Jon stood so many feet away from you as his face twisted into a heartbreaking betrayal, you had to tell him the truth and it went as badly as you feared he'd one day look at you with. “My father was the most honourable man I ever met, and now you're going to stand there and say he lied to me all my life.”

You felt the sting in your eyes, he'd been horribly upset the second it came out. But you couldn't know and not tell him. Your voice cracked trying to keep it together, barley able to even come a single step towards him before he'd make that distance even greater. “He was trying to protect you-”

“From knowing who my own mother is?”

He rose his voice and you had to as well, only yours was tinged in guilt and his anger. “From everyone else, from the very family who left three of yours dead, from a life of danger. Robert would have killed you if he knew, if he ever knew.”

You don't think Jon has ever been angry with you, not like this, and it begun to spiral something in your mind that overwhelmed each time he spoke angrier. “So he lies to me, lies to everyone. How long have you known?”

Stammering, you didn't have the right words or calm to explain the dreams and how confusing they left you feeling. Only able to mutter out, “I've..suspected since Dragonstone-”

Not wanting to cry, but you felt your eyes sting with tears anyways. “You've thought this for weeks and are only now just telling me? So this is it? I was born and everyone started lying their asses off. Is any of what he told me even true about her-”

You didn't mean to yell the way you did, but it came out like a scratch as even in his state, Jon could sense a sob trying to claw it's way out of you. “Why do you think he never wanted you around Robert? What do you think would make him want you dead more, if you were born from some secret romance or if you were born because Rhaegar- I knew Robert, and if he knew that's how you came to be, it didn't matter you were Ned Starks son, he would've killed you no matter what.”

Running a hand over his mouth he turned away, taking a few steps before looking back at you. “I've never hidden something like this from you, never. And you let me marry you holding this over my head?”

“I told you as soon as I learned the actual truth. I married you because I love you. Who do you even think I am?” You couldn't come down to earth, Jon was angry and he'd never been angry at you before, never truly yelled at you before and something inside you was losing your grip. Something was scratching at your insides the longer he looked at you almost in hate. Like you were losing the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth the worse that look got.

Not for a second could you figure out what was behind his eyes. They spoke thousands of words and you had not the language to read a single one like this. “I always loved you, but maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe I don't know anyone, or ever did.”

“Loved? You loved?”

If you were of a less raging mind of chaotic screams of panic, you might have caught the look on Jons face. The one realizing he had just worded that in the worst way he didn't mean. But he was too worked up to know how to figure out how to fix that, and the way he found no way to break the silence from the noise in your own head only made that gap between you both feel like a nightmare.

He knew how badly it came out, and he didn't have the strength to say it in any other way that wasn't going to give you the worst image even when he didn't mean it. But his head was too loud, and his heart wanted to crack into pieces and he didn't want to cry only feet away from his mother's own burial place. “I need to be alone. I can't do this with you right now. I can't think when your around me..”

In truth, Jon didn't know if you actually heard half of this conversation. He had a horrible feeling, that what he said to you, was spoken in a different voice entirely. Beacuse as much as he had never been angry at you like that before, you had never looked at him in fear before. You had though, looked at one other that way.

But there was too much in his mind and heart to recognize that in the moment. So he left, and didn't look back to see that you still hadn't quite come down to earth.

It was Jon's voice, but whispers of Ramsay's words in your mind.

#this chapter in my outline btw was called the 'everyones happiness goes boom'#just so everyone knows how much i realized this was the chapter everything falls utterly apart

94 notes · View notes