PART ONE-CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"I'll stitch my wounds with dreams, so the next time I get hurt, I'll bleed stars."

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Cold winds blowing from everywhere, he decided that there is no place colder in the North than the Wall, especially given the fact that the coldness seems to increase with the altitude.

Even the atrociously thick fur coat that he's wearing and his leathers inside of it don't help him withstand the bloody cold that would probably freeze him to death. His hair flew onto all sides of his face as a result of the air, and he kept pushing it back until he realized that it was bloody hopeless.

Jon's been here a week now, and the Night's Watch is nothing short of hell. He'd been treated like a piece of shit because he was better than the rest with his sword, and if this is how it was going to go, then he's starting to think he might have made the wrong decision.

At least Robb didn't frown at me when he lost at sword fighting.

He'd just found out that Tyrion Lannister has started preparing for the journey back home, and as much as he hated to admit it, he actually might have enjoyed his company, given the dick of the brother that he has.

Right from their first conversation, the little dwarf might have taught him a lot more than he's learnt all his life. He was a smart person and was good company too, so he figured he would bid him farewell.

He found out his whereabouts and when he found out that he was on the top of the wall, for some reason it didn't surprise him. He came to the same place where the Lannister was, and saw him pissing off the edge of the wall, and then bringing his clothes back into place. Jon smiled as Tyrion turned.

"I'm sorry to see you leave, Lannister." he said, and Tyrion, of course, being himself, said, "It's either me or the cold, and it doesn't appear to be going anywhere." If he hadn't been freezing, Jon would have actually laughed at that.

"Will you stop at Winterfell, while on your way south?" he asked.

"I expect I will. Gods know there aren't any feather beds between here and King's Landing." Tyrion said.

He knew this was his chance for passing on a message or anything of the sort, so he made the most of it and said, "If you see my brother Bran, tell him I miss him. Tell him, that I would visit if I could." Jon said, almost pleading but not letting it show.

"Of course."

He didn't know what took over him that moment, but he felt like he could confide, or just spill his thoughts. "He'll never walk again."

"If you're going to be a cripple, better be a rich one." The Lannister said, and Jon knew as stupid as it sounded to him, it was true.

He took out the piece of parchment from his coat pocket and said, "Do me a favour, will you? When you go to Winterfell, give this to-"

"The lovely Sara Cassel, the love of your life. A beauty, that one." he said, interrupting Jon's sentence, and taking the letter from him.

"Aye, that she is." he said, a little too wistfully than he would have hoped.

"A shame, now that you're here, you can't really be that wistful about her. She would have been a perfect match for you. But what's the point now? What's this? A secret love letter?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.

Sensing that this conversation was going to take long, Tyrion sat and took out a little wineskin out of his coat pocket. Jon sat too, and he said "No, it's not a love letter. I just felt like she deserved more than the way we left things. That's all." Tyrion smirked.

"You seem quite smitten, shame you're a part of the 'we-won't-let-any-damsel-distract-us' army. Care to tell me what's gotten you wrapped around her finger even after taking the black?" Tyrion asked.

Jon bit his lip, and he said "Long story."

"We have time. I'm sure the Night's watch can spare its best trainee for a few minutes. No white walker is going to pass through the wall and kill the King by then." he said, and Jon smiled a little. "We have wine too!" he added.

He drew in a big breath.

"It was many years ago when we met. The first time we spoke was when we were five. She came to play with Robb, Theon and I, having no other company then. Her sister wasn't even born yet. We just grew up together, and she was my closest confidante. That was a time when I wasn't as aware of my bastard status as I am today. Then later on when the reality of the situation dawned on me, I went through a phase, a moody quiet phase. Sara saw right through it and helped me. When we were fourteen I realized that I like her, and then it just happened. We were together until..."

"Until you joined the Watch." Tyrion finished.

Jon knew it wasn't right to confide about Sara, at the Wall, no less, but he definitely felt like a huge weight had been taken away from his shoulders right then.

They then got up, Tyrion then reached forward and held out his hand for Jon to shake. "Farewell, Snow." "You too my Lord." he said, shaking his hand. Tyrion Lannister walked away then, leaving an amused Jon Snow behind him.

Jon then looked at the scene before him. Snow, as far as the eye can see. Sara would have thought this view beautiful, and after his sudden out-pour, all he could think of was a blonde haired girl, whose hair would shine all too familiarly in the sunlight.

I wonder what you're doing now...

***

What was he doing here? What gave him any right to come back to Winterfell, to the same place where he had attempted to murder his brother?

But then again, Robb knew that he couldn't let his thoughts go wayward and loose when he sat on his father's seat- The Lord's seat.

That seat would be yours one day, his mother had said.

Maester Luwin sat to his right, and the two seats to his left were left empty. Tyrion Lannister, however short and small he was, stood there, his judgemental face ready to intimidate anyone with the words that would spill from his mouth. Robb didn't even bother putting a chair in the middle of the room for him, let alone asking him to sit.

The fact that he had not killed him the second he stepped into those gates was enough courtesy from his side.

"I'll admit I received a slightly warmer welcome in my last visit." The little Lannister Lord said, and Robb really felt annoyed about the fact that he wanted to annoy him, and more about the fact that it was working. So he turned to Yoren, the Night's Watch officer, who had accompanied the little shit.

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell." Robb said.

"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not I eh, boy?" He asked, and Robb thought exactly the same, only without a sense of questioning. 

"I am not your boy, Lannister. I'm the Lord of Winterfell, while my father is away." he said, voice sounding half threatening.

"Then you ought to learn a lord's courtesies." He said, quite calmly, despite the rage that had come from Robb. And then, the door opened, and in came Hodor, carrying his brother who looked as limp as a dead fish, Theon following close behind.

"So it's true." Tyrion Lannister said, and Robb wanted to punch him. He didn't know he had almost acted on it, until Maester Luwin had held his hand to the support on the seat, giving him a firm nod.

"Hello, Bran." He said, and his brother looked at him, face expressionless. "Do you remember anything about what happened?" 

"He has no memory of what happened that evening." The Maester said. 

"Curious." was all Tyrion Lannister said, and he was really getting on Robb's nerves.

"Why are you here?" he asked, rather agitated.

But then, his question was ignored, and Tyrion Lannister yet again annoyed him by doing so. "Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt!" "Kneel Hodor." Bran said.

When both of them were facing each other eye to eye, Robb felt a bit nervous.

What was he planning to do to his brother now?

"Do you like to ride, Bran?" Tyrion asked, and Bran said "Yes...Well I mean I did like to."

"The boy has lost the use of his legs." Maester Luwin said, and Tyrion interrupted him. "And what of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride!"

Clearly, he wasn't the only one who was aggravated when his brother said, "I'm not a cripple." 

But then again, Tyrion Lannister had something to say to that too. "Then I'm not a dwarf! My father would rejoice to hear it! I've got a gift for you." he said, and from his coat pocket, took out a scroll of parchment. 

"Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest." Tyrion said, as his little brother opened the scroll with the most curiosity Robb had seen in Bran since he woke up.

"You must shape the horse to the rider. Teach it to respond to the boy's voice." He said, and Robb didn't have a good feeling about this. Instilling false hope in his brother would crush him when he found out the truth, especially if what the dwarf said was a lie.

But what if it isn't? Would Bran really be able to ride again?

"Will I really be able to ride?" Bran asked, and Tyrion said, "Of course! And on horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them."

Robb still didn't feel settled.

"Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?" He asked.

"I've got a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things." Robb, for some stupid reason, felt reassured then, and his reassurance only got better when Bran and Tyrion smiled at each other.

"You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours-" 

"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark!" He said, emphasizing on the title only so he could mock Robb.

"There's a brothel outside the gates, I'll find a bed there and both of us can sleep easier." He said, and for some reason, Robb felt like the whole encounter was unsettling to him. His head craned to see his betrothed's uncle walk out the door, one of her favourites too. Did he really want to be horrible to Rhea's family? Make it look like he was going to treat her the same way?

No, he didn't.

So he went out to him.

"Lord Stark!" Tyrion said when he towered over him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you walking me out?"

"Well, if we are going to be family...I suppose I owe you a proper greeting. It's too late for that, but I suppose a good exit is in order." Tyrion laughed. "Well, what makes you think you walking me out is a good exit? Especially after your amazing show inside?"

What in the realm?

"I was just joking, Robb Stark. You are to be my nephew, then we might as well be as civil to each other as we cannot break my favourite niece's heart. I know for a fact that she wants all her family to get along. Like that's ever going to happen. My dearest sister and I have the most complicated relationship in the Seven Kingdoms, but that shouldn't stop me from trying. At least for Rhea, if not for you." They shook hands.

"Remember, this hatred that you have towards my family will have to change. Whether you like it or not, the sweet, unassuming girl you're marrying- my niece, she is part Lannister too. I expect better for her than this. We all do. Lannisters always protect their own."

He then walked away after nodding in farewell, and Gods, Robb hadn't felt more exhausted in ages.

The in-laws are a piece of work.

***

A very polite conversation, that was. These Starks have very quick tempers.

Those were Tyrion's thoughts as he walked out of the gates and to his horse when he heard the next one come in. "Couldn't resist some northern arse?"

Theon Greyjoy, of the Iron Islands. Notice, I didn't say heir. He for certain doesn't look like one. But I don't either.

"If you like redheads, ask for Ros." he added, and Tyrion thought he sounded funny.

"Come to see me off Greyjoy? Kind of you. Your master doesn't seem to like Lannisters." 

Tyrion could feel the boy going tense from here, and when he said: "He's not my master." Tyrion wanted to laugh.

"Of course not." And then he moved on to make the statements that actually matter. "What happened here, where is Lady Stark? Why didn't she receive me?" He asked, knowing partially the answer to the second question.

"Lady Stark is ill-"

"She's not in Winterfell, is she? Where did she go?"

"The Lady's whereabouts is non-"

"The Lady! My, my, your loyalty towards your captives is touching. Tell me, how do you think Balon Greyjoy would feel if he could see that his only surviving son turn lackey?" The boy's jaw tightened, and Tyrion very entertained.

"I still remember my father's fleet burn in Lannisport. I believe your uncles, were responsible." He saw the boy let a little smile in pride of his family, but it diminished faster than it came.

"Must have been a pretty sight!"

"Yes, it was, watching sailors burn alive! Yes, Great victory for your people! Shame how it all turned out!"

"We were outnumbered ten to one." The boy tried to decrease the humiliation that was placed at him due to a defeat that happened when he was less than ten.

"A stupid rebellion, then. I suppose your father realised that when your brothers died in battle. Now here you are, your enemies' squire."

Theon Greyjoy is getting angry! As much as this is a sight he'd like to prolong, he didn't have the time for that.

That was when Sara Cassel came walking toward the gates, looking like she had a lot in mind, and that's when he remembered Jon Snow's little letter for the blonde haired girl. "Theon what ha-"

"This is for you, my dear. A gift from an admirer." He said and gave the letter to her.

"Who gave-" She started, but he really wanted to get out, So he said "I'm only the messenger, my dear. The letter holds all the answers you need."

Hewasted no time getting out of the wretchedly cold place.

                                                                                             ***