〔ABOUT YOU!〕✔︎

-EPILOGUE

She will never hear her mother scream his name in annoyance when he takes Edric and Brandon out to spar when she had denied it.

"Mama?"

Sarra was quick to wipe her face and looked up at the door. Her own son stood, her daughter peeking from beside his tall figure.

"What is Luke, dear?"

Lucerys walked in and held on his mother's shoulder. He smiled at her, his own face sprinkled with grief.

"Uncle Brandon wants to make sure you're not grieving by yourself.."

Sarra smiles. "I'm not anymore, am I? I have you two rascals."

She opens her arms as her daughter, Alysanne, rushes into her embrace. Her small face cold as Sarra wrapped her into her fur.

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Robert Baratheon wanted to visit the dead during his visit to Winterfell. Ned obeyed and stood with him in the Stark crypt. The cold brought an odd comfort to Ned as it is a way to remind himself he still breathes and to think the cold air as a friend not an enemy.

Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon stood in front of Cregan's Stark statue, as Robert prepares himself to ask his best friend to be his Hand of the King.

As Ned gets off his knees after bowing to the King, he can feel the stare of Cregan, and the ghostly embrace of Lyanna.

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Jon Snow had had enough of Catelyn and her miserable looks at him. He had enough of not being enough for her. For anybody.

He let his anger out on the bag full of hay that was hung up by a rope. Even his own sword was against.

He groans in frustration and throws the sword towards the fake body.

"Easy now, boy."

Jon turned around. Tyrion Lannister stood behind him, a cup in his hand – not like Jon had not seen him without one.

"What troubles you, bastard?"

Jon scrunches his brows.

Tyrion chuckles at his Stark behaviour. "Why the anger?"

"Why would I tell you?"

Tyrion let's out a scoff, almost a laugh. "Is it because of my family name?"

Jon shrugs.

Tyrion nods. "Is the anger because of your name?"

Jon eyes widen. He sighs, and turns back to grab the sword, he had thrown.

Tyrion takes a sip of his cup, he comes back with a smirk etched on his face.

"You're not the only bastard of Winterfell."

Jon turns around, facing the man. His own face etched with annoyance.

"You certainly won't be the last." Tyrion sets his cup on a wall and dusts off his hands.

"Whom else, imp?" His words caught the boys attention.

"Cregan Stark's sisters, that's whom."

Jon Snow – who had read and re-read the history of his family – scanned his memory for the name Cregan.

"His sister.. The Bloody Wolf..?" Jon was hesitate with his reply, not wanting to seem like a complete idiot about his own family.

Tyrion nods. "That's the one!"

Cregan's death was an event that Ned had told Jon and Robb about. And how they had to be careful about wild Direwolves, without their pack they are terrified and everything is a threat.

Later Jon would understand that lesson as he grows old and has to survive with his own pack.

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After hearing the truth of his blood, Jon stands, feeling colder than usual. After Daenerys' empty and cold stare at him after he told her, his blood stood still and his feet glued to the floor.

He finds his odd comfort in the Crypt. He did not mind the odd noises but rather welcomed them.

He feels each glare of the Starks. The boy stands in front of The Bloody Wolf. Her mouth upturned into a small, comforting, smile. He sits at her feet, where the carving of her Direwolf also resided.

Jon sighs and closes his eyes, letting the cold air get to him and redden his skin.

He hesitates to open his eyes again. The guilt of his true name heavy upon his growing shoulders.

He has the strength to open his eyes and sighs in relief. He is still on his own, the way it has been since he was still Jon Snow, the bastard of Eddard Stark.

Jon Snow stares at the statues of family members. Cregan Stark not standing far from his little sister.

The Bloody Wolf, how ever menacingly her name was, was his rock, his place of comfort. And will be until the Crypts welcome them himself.

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