you gotta hold on to what you got, babe

[nedstarksbastard]

Who: Jon "Ned Stark's bastard" Snow, Robb "king of sad trombone noises" Stark (kingofbadlifechoices), Sansa "wants snuggles and cakes gets struggles and no cakes" Stark (steeledskin), and Bran "guys I fucked up and told the truth" Stark (summerschild)
Broadcast: n/a!
Action: Blue Fish. warnings for ASOIAF spoilers and discussions of death.
When: Just after these two threads.

[Jon does not stop first at Robb's room. He's not sure he can do this alone, as he told Sansa--he'd rather do this with all of them in one room. He could argue that it's for a pragmatic reason--he'd been beyond the Wall at the time of the Red Wedding, he doesn't have all the details--but in truth, he's not too sure he'll be able to keep his composure while talking about it.

So he finds Sansa and Bran, first.

Then he knocks on Robb's door, and breathes out. His breath, damn it, comes out just a little shakier than usual, his guard down much more than usual. With the developments of the past few hours, his walls have taken something of a hit, though he's trying very hard not to show the sheer panic happening inside.

Another knock. Open up, Stark.]

Comments

[steeledskin]

[ she wrings her hands to the point of pain -- digging her thumb into the muscle tissue between her fingers. it's an anxious, worried gesture. by the morning, there might be bruises. but she needs to express herself somehow. true emotion would be too clumsy. tears would be unladylike.

sansa's throat feels hoarse and hot when she finally pipes up with a shred of honesty: ] With you, at the Red Wedding. I want to believe the two of you had each other, at least.

[ quiet blessings and threadbare thoughts. she's prayed for this memory often enough, alone, in the cold heights of the vale. hope that at least they were together when they died. ]

[nedstarksbastard]

[Catelyn.

Gods, Lady Catelyn.

Jon has never felt any warmth from her, has always been treated rather coldly by her, has always known she never loved him--the bastard, the reminder that her husband's famed honor had faltered for a night. But even then, he hopes she had a quick death, a merciful one, even if he privately doubts the Freys cared overmuch about being merciful. She deserves that much.]

I'm sorry. [For what? For Robb's lady mother? For not being there, like he had so wanted to be? For not knowing until long after the wedding? For failing, in so many ways? For keeping all of it a secret?

Where does he even start?]

If there's anything else you want to know, you can ask, and you'll have an honest answer. [You're gonna regret that, Snow.]