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    Touch with Jon is so strange, so dear. She feels it like a living thing, a physical thing - this need to feel him, to grab him, to touch him, always. To make sure he’s there; to feel him there. No matter how difficult it is with him, it is always such a relief to have him with her. It’s like she wants him to crawl beneath her skin, settle inside her; another heart, so similar and yet so starkly different, beating in sync with hers.

    Her eyes are still closed as he continues: ‘’It’s you and me now. We have to trust each other. We can’t fight a war amongst ourselves. We have so many enemies now.’’ For a moment there is only silence then, until finally, Jon continues - finishes, she can tell - voice darker, deeper: ‘’Do not hide things from me again.’’

    She sighs. Squeezes him a bit, just a bit; ‘’Listen to me.’’ he squeezes her back, so strong and yet so gentle. Contained. She longs to wrap herself around him.

    They remain as they are.

     

    ***

    Jon and Sansa. A season six - onwards fix-it.

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    13 May 2026

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    Jon y Sansa

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    “Do you know,” Lyonel said at last, studying her, “you stand as if the gods might take notes? Straight spine. Careful hands. As if the Seven will peer down and say yes, that one is behaving correctly.”

    The princess did not answer. Lord Baratheon noticed quite early that his lady wife was not much of a conversationalist. Not much of a dancer nor a drinker, either. Her eyes only flicked to him – cool and watchful.

    It made Lyonel smirk. “Maekar’s work”, he added lightly. Hammer it in early and it never cracks. Gods forbid she bends. Bending is how things break.

    She lifted her chin a fraction. Not defiance. Barely curiosity.

    He drank again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before stepping closer. “You don’t look when I expect it. You don’t laugh when I expect it. You don’t even speak when I expect it,” he said, almost accusing. “That is dangerous. Makes a man try harder.”

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    06 Mar 2026

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    Robb knows duty, he learned it standing at his father’s knee and sitting on his mother’s lap before he had a concept of what it actually meant. He was born to be Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North. Kingship was never supposed to be on the table for him. But his family has been torn apart one too many times, and war seems endless; his only option now is to burrow in for the long winter, no matter the cost.

    (And if that cost is his life? Well it’s a calculated risk he took the day they laid that weighty bronze circlet on his brow, naming him King.)

     

    --

    Or;

    When the Tyrells switch allegiance before Robb Stark can be killed by the Lannisters, it only serves to stoke the fires of the wars in Westeros, the after effects rippling across the realm for years to come.

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    26 May 2026

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    “How did you know of this chest Sam?” Jon´s eyebrows were drawn together in a frown.
    “hummm…oh uh well maester Aemon told me to give this chest to you when he died. He said that you would most likely be in need of them.” Sam answers with a shrug.
    Jon stared at Sam with a frown painted on this face. What could maester Aemon possibly wanted to give him. (This story is also published on fanfiction.net under the pen name Naerys Blackfyre.)

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    22 May 2026

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    Dsd

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    “Who are you?”

    “We are the wind in the air, the stones in the earth, the water in the rivers, the fire in the embers.”

    “What do you ask of me?”

    “You will prevail, Robb of House Stark.

    Now, wake.”

    Robb Stark wakes up after his death at the Red Wedding. The aftermath.

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    23 Apr 2026

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    Robb stark y maergary Tyrell