Winter Is Here // Game Of Thrones

Decisions Decisions(Audelia POV)

I looked over at Jaime, and he was asleep, peacefully. His golden hair had greyed significantly since the last time I saw him, yet he was just as handsome and cocky as the day I met him. He was still my Jaime. His golden hand was still attached to his stump as he slept. I sat straighter, realizing something.

I was pregnant. And I could not let Ramsay near this child. If he got his hands on it, he would ruin it. Completely. It would become just like his blood father.

Perhaps the easiest thing to do was terminate the pregnancy. Make sure Ramsay would never be able to get his hands on it.

But I didn't have the heart to do it. 

I had lived through so many bad things, so much death and blood. Perhaps this was the way of the gods, sending me a blessing. Something pure.

I had to tell someone. I had to get their opinion.

I quickly, but carefully stood up, getting my shoes and cape back on.

I couldn't tell Jaime, I couldn't tell Jon or Sansa. I didn't want them to pity me, or support me no matter what. I needed someone who was able to deal with a situation without getting their personal feelings involved.

"Bronn?", I whispered as I knocked on his door. The squire told me where the sellsword was resigning at the moment.

"Bronn?", I asked, louder this time. I heard shuffling behind the door, and it opened slightly.

"What?", he asked, obviously still half-asleep.

"Can I talk with you?", I asked, pushing past him and into his room.

"Why ask if you wouldn't give me a choice anyway?", he mumbled under his breath and closed the door.

"I was trying to sleep. What was so urgent it couldn't wait until later?", he asked, yawning.

"I'm pregnant", I said, and he stopped moving.

"Well now I'm fucking awake", he replied.

"And I don't know what to do", I whispered, folding my hands across my chest.

"Well it's easy. Do you want to be a mother or no?", he asked and I sat down on his bed.

"Of course I do, but right now? When we are going to go to war against the Boltons? There is a good chance we will lose, and then Ramsay will not be merciful", I reply and he nods.

"But if you win?", asked Bronn.

"Then I will raise the babe, and make sure it doesn't turn out like it's father", I replied confidently. 

"Alone? 'Cause from what I've seen, Jaime fucking Lannister is crazy about you. If you were to lose against the Boltons, he could take you and the babe, and bring you to safety", continued Bronn.

"I doubt he will want it. It's not his. He just came back to me. I don't want to force him to take care of a babe that isn't his. He didn't even get to take care of his own children. Besides, I don't want this child to grow up in the South with all those people", I said and looked over at Bronn. "No offence".

"None taken. Southerners are crazy. Dornish above all", he agreed and I chuckled lowly.

"What would you do if you were in my position?", I asked genuinely.

"I can't answer that", he said but I clutched his hand.

"Please, I don't know what to do", I begged him.

"I can't answer that, because I am not you. We are nothing alike. We barely know each other. Which begs the questions of why in the Seven Hells did you come to ask ME this?", he asked and I sighed in frustration.

"Because I thought you could help me", I whisper. 

"Thanks anyway", I say, getting up and leaving the room quickly.

That was no help.

I still didn't know what to do.

I didn't know if I was ready to raise a child by myself. But was anyone really ever ready to bring a babe into this cruel, cold world?

I walked into my room, which Jon gave me to stay in for now. I collapsed onto the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Utterly confused and scared.

I knew what mother would say if she were here. Robb would most likely say the same thing.

Father....

He would tell me that we could take back Winterfell. That we would fight.

He would have supported me in the decision to keep the child. He would most likely have been so excited to be a grandpa.

I got up and walked over to the mirror in my room. It was dirty but I could still see myself well enough.

I looked down at my stomach. The tiny babe was inside. Growing, little by little every single day.

I put my hands carefully on my belly, rubbing my thumb over the tiniest bump I had there. It was barely anything but it was evidence that my baby was growing. That it was in there.

I was keeping it. 

I was going to be a mother.

But this child will never meet it's blood father. It will never be a Bolton.

It will be a Stark, and it will grow up in the North. In Winterfell.

We are going to war.