wont | CONTACT | on the tranquility

[ She tips her head and tries to sound brave, but it comes out willful and childish instead. ]

It matters to me.

Have you told him that?

[Jon's actions in this matter have always been strictly to avoid.]

[ Without even the slightest hesitation. ] Yes. Often and well. Every victory was a star of hope, even if—

[ Alayne stops. Even if Joffrey beat me, after. ]

[Jon turns at that. There is something here, something that Sansa is not telling]

Even if?

[ Alayne bites her tongue behind her teeth. She'd been careless and now the choice was before her: the truth or a lie. She looks at her brother guiltily for a moment and then chooses her words carefully. ]

Joff— did not take kindly to defeat.

[Jon hears the words she does not say. Perhaps it is because he is a bastard, or because he has heard stories on the Wall from men who have been accused of crimes for another's pleasure, or maybe it's simply a lack of faith in the Lannister boy (Lannister to the bone, he thinks) but he understands.]

Come here.

[He moves one large hand to the base of her back and another to her shoulder, to pull her closer. It is the cold beyond the Wall that inspires this, this is Jon Snow the turncoat, not the Lord Commander]

[ Part of her wants to protest, wants to tell Jon that she does not deserve such kindness even though her plight is terrible. I called him a traitor, she wants to confess. And father a usurper. I said I longed for their defeat. They had been lies, of course, lies to safe Sansa's neck but at what price, Alayne still wonders. Had she prayed too hard in pantomime? Had the gods seen her deception and moved to strike her down?

But there is another part of Alayne, the part that dreamt of Jon Snow atop a white wall with snowflakes in his hair. The part that dreamt of embracing him as he moves to hold her now.

It is awkward at first, the gesture. But soon Alayne's arms find a loose circle around Jon's breadth and she is hugging him, almost desperately, as if she afraid she might fall back into the lion's pit at any moment. ] Robb cannot know, [ she says, her voice quiet and thin. ] There is so much he must never know.

[Jon just puts his chin atop her head and his arms around her slight figure. He does not know how to be kindly, except to do this. He knows why she thinks that Robb cannot know, but he doesn't say anything at first.]

If he learns it will not be because of me.

[ It is kindly, more so than they have ever shared with one another before in their young lives. War is a terrible crucible and its fires had ravished the North that birthed them and the family tree that shaded them for so long — but in this small moment it has made something good. A bastard finally made a brother after so long, a sister who learns that love outweighs any courtly rite or duty. ]

He will never learn it. I must do that much. [ Her arms tighten around him and though they tremble there is some strength in them, slight as it may be. ] It is the only thing I know how to do. The only thing the war taught me to do well.

No, Sansa.

It is not the only thing.

[It has taught her a kindness she lacked, one that Jon wishes she had learned some other way.

[ She gives the faintest sniffle and then buries her face in his shoulder for a passing moment before finally drawing away. In that moment, she seems very much a child again, searching the comfort offered by her elder brother's arms. Only this time, it is not Robb she confides in, but Jon.

When she finally pulls back it is with a small, sheepish smile, embarrassed by her sudden wealth of earnestness and the red tip to her nose. ] You are too kind to me. I will repay all of your patience in time. I promise.

Are you embarrassed to have me hold you?

[He raises both eyebrows at the question]

[ Alayne's expression pinches with confusion briefly. ] No, [ she insists. Then, more certainly: ] No, never. I—

If there is any reason to be embarrassed, it is in taking so long for me to let you.

[He smiles slightly, shyly.]

No one will see anyway. Ghost is blocking the door.

[ It feels good, to have Jon smile at her the way he does now. In a small and secret manner, the way proper siblings sometimes do. She hazards a tiny, sweet smile back. After a moment, it grows. ]

And there is no seeing around Ghost anymore. He's as broad as a house.

[Jon looks over at his direwolf. Once the smallest and now the largest, he just yawns and curls to block the door]

Lady will grow to that size as well.

[ Alayne turns to follow Jon's gaze, her eyebrows lifting in quiet wonderment. ] I never thought— [ She gives a shake of her head, the rest of her sentence obvious to her. I never thought I'd see her again; I never thought she'd grow so large. ] They'll each need their own rooms, soon.

An entire wing of wolves.

[He just tilts his head]

Better than one of crows.

[ Her mouth threatens a petulant moue and then after a moment's hesitation, she gives his elbow the smallest of nudges. (Were it Robb she would have been far more bold.) ]

I did not ask for crows, Jon.

Funny, neither did I, and yet one still nests over my bed and demands corn.

[ Her smile returns. She even laughs. ]

Perhaps if you taught it a different word, you'd sleep much better.

[Now he's laughing]

It does know different words! It just chooses not to use them.

[ Loftily: ]

Perhaps if you fed it different words, it would like those words better.

I could feed it map, is what you suggest?

Well. Will you sleep better to the tune of 'map'?

CONTACT | on the tranquility

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