Steel clashed on steel, the training yard filled with the metallic clanging as the two young men sparred against each other. "Hold steady. Firm stances!" barked Ser Rodrik from the side. The Winterfell Master at Arms nevertheless didn't need to say much - his pupils were improving greatly, both on their ways to become master swordsmen. "That's it!"
"Whoooo!" whooped Arya, seated atop a barrel with Bran - having ducked away from her sewing lessons to watch the action. "Go Jon!" Beside them was Theon Greyjoy, arms crossed and jealousy written all over his face. From the windows of her chambers, Sansa surreptitiously watched as well. Secretly rooting for Jon.
And while she was supposed to be moving folded linens from the laundry area to the kitchens, Daenerys couldn't help but stop to watch. Entranced by her beloved's skill.
Spinning out of the way of a thrust, Jon brought his training sword in a slashing attack. Just barely parried by his brother. They broke apart, circling each other. "Enjoying yourself, Stark?" he taunted Robb, small grin on his face.
Robb narrowed his eyes. "I will when I beat you, Snow." Raising his blade with both hands on the hilt, he charged forward. Swiping hard at Jon, either slicing through air or crashing against the steel of the dull training swords. But forcing Jon back.
"Come on!" Arya heckled. "Offense, Jon. Offense!" Jon refused to take the initiative, still giving ground and letting Robb at him - and tire himself.
Eventually, the intensity of the blows started to slacken - Jon seized the day. Twirling the blade in his wrist, he lunged. Robb now the one giving ground to escape the flurry of thrusts and slashes. Frantic to block the agile attacks from his bastard brother. All enchanting Dany, gazing upon Jon fight with a hidden hunger. Gods, her beloved was a powerful fighter - turning her on to no end.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jon blocked an attack by counterstriking, forcing Robb's blade down. He twirled his sword around back into assault position and brought it down with a snarl. Slamming into Robb's with a force large enough to knock it to the muddy ground. "Yield?" he said, holding the sword to Robb's chest.
Scowl on his brother's face, after a moment it turned into a grin. "Yield."
Cheers erupted from the onlookers, all excited for such a good show. Even Dany clapped, her dainty hands not making much noise - it was the first thing Jon noticed, his grey eyes boring in on her with a desirous intensity. She felt a warm flutter in her core.
"Damn, Snow. You're like a beast." Robb clapped his brother on the back, laughing. "Where the fuck did you learn those moves?"
Jon shrugged. "I put a lot of cunts flat on their asses." He smirked. "If you want a demonstration, send Greyjoy in the ring." That caused a ring of laughs all around.
The subject of the jape wasn't amused. "Fuck you!" Theon hollered back. Catching Dany's giggling face with a wide smile of his own.
"JON SNOW!" In an instant the happy moment shattered. Joy at spending time with his siblings impaled upon the fury that was Catelyn Stark. "Clean up this mess! Rest of you, go back to your lessons." Her ire was worse than normal. I beat Robb. Should never beat Robb. Jon always let his brother win… hells, usually let Theon win as well. Sighing under her watchful gaze, he grabbed the training swords off the muddy ground and moved towards the armory. Rag in hand as he began to clean them.
Staring up at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, Daenerys wished she could march up there and slap Lady Stark across the face - outwardly she wasn't anything vile. Kind to the servants, if a bit aloof. She was radiant with love around her children. It was only with Jon did the hate and bitterness emerge. Dany realized why Jon thought so… low of himself. He had a home. He had family. But with someone of pure authority smacking him down literally every day of his life - Viserys may have been mad and vicious, but he always exalted her blood and heritage to the heavens.
Living at Winterfell, even with the drudgery and exhaustion of the servant's labor she was forced to do, was a dream for Daenerys. Free of her brother, free of being raped for an army. Everyone was kind here, especially Jon's siblings. Robb the dashing future Lord, Sansa the demure epitome of a lady - while Jon had told her she was always cold to him, it seemed to Dany that his absence caused the young redhead to truly miss him, for she was quite polite - Arya and Bran little spitfires that never ceased to make her laugh, and adorable little Rickon. It was clear why Jon always spoke happily about his family.
And yet there he was, being subject to the crushing stare of Catelyn Stark.
Not wanting Jon to be alone, Daenerys stepped forward. Hem of her skirts swishing against the dirt and mud of the outer courtyard. Too sullen and drawn into himself to notice her approach - just wishing he could scurry somewhere dark and die in order to avoid the piercing gaze of Lady Stark - Jon's arms erupted in goosebumps as Dany's hand brushed against him. The supposed servant girl offering a small smile. "Allow me to help you with those, Lord Snow."
Daenerys had been speaking to him in a subdued tone, but Jon noticed the twinkle in her eyes. "Thank you, my Lady," he offered wishing he could kiss her. Handing one of the blunt training swords to Dany for her to clean and polish. He hated that the silver locks he loved so had to be dyed, but it was a small price to pay for her to be there with him.
"It is no problem, Lord Snow." Catching the glare and eye roll of Lady Catelyn, Daenerys hid a smirk.
Locked out of the feast as usual, the bastard of Winterfell too humiliating to be displayed to the King - such was normal among noble families, the disgustingly ignoble Walder Frey the exception. Under the twinkling stars of the night sky, Jon grabbed his training sword to practice. The habit had become even more habitual for him, to get his mind off of the woman he loved with all his heart... but whom he'd have to leave. Dany.
She haunted him, haunted his every waking moment. Jon loved her, adored her, ached for her - longed for a possible future where they could grow old together with a large and happy family. That will never happen. It wouldn't be long before he would never see again. There was no future, not with he but a lowly bastard pining for the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
"The gods flip a coin for every Targaryen, one side for madness the other for greatness."
Remembering his father's words as he practiced fluid movements, Jon knew deep in his soul that she would be great. That she would be Queen. Needing to make alliances, secure victories through marriage - he would never shape up, never be more than the bastard son of a northern Lord. The most he could aspire to was the Night's Watch...
He didn't know why he confided in Robb about Dany, but knew he could trust his half-brother. The two were thick as thieves, always getting into adventures and trouble together over their shared childhood and adolescence. The heir to Winterfell had no problems with it, and gave his word to keep it a secret from everyone - and yet the secret was far larger than Robb could ever know.
Hacking again at the target, the steady clopping of hoofbeats drew Jon's attention. "Is he dead yet?" The attention widened into a smile at the sight of the distinctive black cloak draped over the rider. Dismounting, the rider shot Jon a smile in return, striding up to him. "I was looking for my nephew, not a master swordsman in the making," he said merrily.
"Uncle Benjen," Jon replied, firmly encircling the man's shoulders with his arms in a manly embrace. His uncle was one of the few outside his siblings that showered affection on him, and they were always close - and the fact he was the Head Ranger of the Night's Watch didn't hurt Benjen's image. A bastard stuck in the middle of a sullen reception from the rest of Winterfell, the egalitarian nature of the Brotherhood appealed to Jon.
Now, all that he wished for was to be with Dany. To hold her in his arms and be her protector as she reclaimed her destiny, her birthright. But it was not to be. "Not inside?"
"Lady Stark…" resentment bubbled up, where only self-loathing would have been before. "Thought it would insult the Royal Family to seat a bastard in their midst."
Benjen blinked. "Well… there's always room for a bastard at the wall."
"And I would take no wife, and father no children…" Silver-hair flashed in front of his eyes.
"It's not like I have any other choice, uncle."
Snorting, Benjen wrapped an arm around his nephew. "Well tonight isn't the night for it, lad. Come with your uncle, let's get some food and drink in your belly." At Jon's hesitation, he smirked. "Lady Stark won't chew out her dear goodbrother. You'll stick by me, come'on."
The old Jon would have still declined, but he had changed upon meeting Daenerys. A bolder, more confident Jon took his place. "Sure, why not."
"That's the spirit!"
"Girl! More ale!"
Hunched over, violet eyes tucked out of the way by looking at the stone tiles of the floor, Daenerys turned to grant the men their request. A quick turn up found them in the yellow and black of House Baratheon. Southerners… bannermen of the Usurper. They and the red-gold of House Lannister were the most disrespectful, having no connection to this land or its people as the other northerners that had journeyed to Winterfell. She lost count of how many hands had slapped or groped at her ass and breasts - all of them quick rather than her brother's revolting touches, but still unwelcome.
Any lustful touch other than Jon's was unwelcome to her.
The feast was in full swing, minstrels switching between the boisterous northern jigs, more refined southern songs, and the raunchy brothel tunes that the King insisted on. Wild boar, whole-roasted chicken, braised pork, hearty stew, steaming meat pies, sweet pastries, fresh baked bread, and spiced ale flowed freely, everyone devouring meals and having a good time. Most of all King Robert Baratheon himself.
Daenerys watched him from the moment he had arrived, the demon that had haunted her and Viserys all through their childhoods. Who had sent assassins to wipe them out time and time again. Upon seeing him… all she could feel was a sense of… pity. Sensing the disappointment and confusion marring the faces of the Starks and Winterfell denizens expecting the monster she had imagined and getting a fat drunk that looked like a pig dressed in finery, it was so pathetic to Daenerys. Here he was amongst the other revelers, laughing like a tavern brawler as he pawed at a poor maid whose name escaped her. Pathetic, just pathetic.
At the high table, Queen Cersei viewed her husband with anger and humiliation. Much as Dany hated House Lannister - at the moment topping off the mugs of several of their sworn swords - she couldn't help but commiserate with her pain. Had it been Jon and I visiting Winterfell, he'd have been by my side the whole time. Dancing with me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. A wistful smile formed on her face at the thought, along with a spike of determination to make it happen.
So busy was she daydreaming about being a Queen with Jon her King, Dany jumped in surprise as a heavy hand smacked her rump. "Ook at you, sweet girl." She froze, blood leaving her face and the booming voice of the King. Slurred from too much drink. "Cm'ere, join your King for some company." Wanting to melt into the crowd, she tried to move away. Hoping he'd forget her. No such look. "Hey!" Thick fingers grabbed her shoulder, hard enough to cause her to wimper in pain. "Your King gave you an order, bitch!"
"Let her go."
The conversation and music stilled in the hall - gradually quieting down, spreading from those in the vicinity of the King till the silence hung everywhere. Far more booming than the loudest of noises. Robb, about to march Arya out for trying to throw food at her sister, halted with wide eyes - as did Arya. Sansa stared like an owl as well, while Catelyn's face grew a ripe red. Cersei only watched with interest, finally something interesting. Too distracted in his own thoughts, Ned was brought out of it by the silence. Only for his face to go as white as a ghost.
There was Jon, his lips set in a firm scowl, finger leveled at the King.
Robert went purple, indignant. "What did you say, whelp?" The entirety of the Great Hall hung on every word - something this juicy so rare.
The gravity of the situation hit Jon like a ton of bricks. He had been heading inside with his Uncle Benjen, hungry and wanting to have a good time with his siblings - Lady Stark be damned - when he noticed Daenerys being manhandled by the whoremongering excuse for a King. It was instinct, a wolf defending his mate. "I said, let her go." Jon would not back down. "You have plenty of others."
The rage was written on Robert's face - in this Daenerys could see the man that had taken down her brother. All the rest a pathetic husk of that man, but the rage gave it away. "Who are you to give orders to me, bastard! I should gut you with my sword!"
"Robert… calm down," Ned came in quickly, racing to the King's side before any blood was spilled. Why is Daenerys here? He would have a talk with the steward after this… if there wasn't a funeral to plan… or an execution. "It's all in good fun."
"Your bastard son is challenging his king!" Robert was having none of it. "Treason!"
Seeing several Baratheon swords moving their hands to their hilts, Ser Barristan was up - ready to use his reputation to help Lord Stark defuse the situation. "My King." He darted in, stilling the King's hand before it went to his sword. "There's no need to…" His eyes went to the servant girl and he froze. Catching a glimpse of the fair, angelic face.
"I will not tolerate traitors! Perhaps I should take his hand, Ned!"
"Do it father!" laughed Prince Joffrey, delighting in it all.
Dany was close to tears, wanting to burn Robert alive like she nearly did to Viserys, but there was nothing she could do. Not for herself and not for Jon. Her Jon.
Luckily for all parties involved, a quick thinking Doreah sandwiched her way through the onlookers and guards, mug of ale in her hand. "Oh, your Grace…" Her tone was flirty, dripping with a sort of innocent desire that drove certain men wild. Behind them all, Sandor Clegane bit back a snort, unable to not find it amusing in the midst of all the tension. Doreah wedged herself into the King's lap and flipped her hair to the side, smiling coquettishly. "I am so amazed at finally meeting the dashing Stag of the Trident. Please tell me more about your magnificent warhammer." Putting finishing touches on it, she batted her eyes.
Momentarily stilled, ruddy eyes running over the voluptuous, sultry figure that the servant dress was unable to hide, the King burst out in a jovial belly laugh. Meaty hand slapping Doreah on the ass, unable to hide his lust - affront completely forgotten. "Give me that ale and I'll be happy to tell ya' the story, though the ending might have to wait until later." He winked, meaning obvious.
"Your Grace," Doreah giggled. "You flatter me."
Seeing the confrontation averted, the minstrels started up the jaunty tune once more, feast going back to full swing. Catching both his wife and the Queen sending daggers his way, Ned sighed and grabbed Jon by the shoulder. "Get her out of here, now."
Jon gave his father a nod, wrapping his arm around Daenerys' trembling shoulder. "I've got you, my love," he murmured, guiding her through the crowd.
Watching them leave, Barristan Selmy thought he had seen a ghost.
"There's not a day that goes by where I don't miss her, Ned," the King had said. A meaty hand rested on the dusty stone, almost reverently. As if a pilgrim touched an ancient relic. "You should have buried her in the light. So that the sun could shine upon her and the woods could hear her songs."
Ned had bitten back the urge to draw his sword and sever the hand then, and fought the urge to vomit now, fists clenching. You don't deserve to even speak about her. Much as Robert was a friend to him, he was the cause of all of this - just as much as the Mad King
"Brother." Ned heard the harsh whisper. After leaving the great hall behind Jon and Dany, the still unsmiling Ned led Benjen to a secluded alcove. "Is it true? Did he meet the Targaryen princess?" Ned's letter didn't leave much doubt to Benjen, but it had to be asked.
Ned's nod told him everything. "She's here, in Winterfell. She was actually the one in the great hall Robert was pawing at."
Benjen's eyes widened. "Are you japing me, Ned?"
"Seems he can't resist falling for a dragon any more than she could."
Unable to resist chuckling, Benjen clutched the bridge of his nose. "No wonder he looked like he was about to run the fat King through with his sword, though he especially would have plenty of other reasons." His expression grew serious "While I'm happy for him, this does raise a massive problem for us. Did you tell anyone else about the truth?"
"I enlisted Jorah Mormont to protect Princess Daenerys in Essos." Ned winced at what she could have endured in the hands of her brother and the Dothraki. "It kills me to not let her stay here among her… family, but what choice do I have. She can't be in Westeros."
"Agreed." Benjen knew Ned barely handled having to endure the stigma from his great lie. This was likely even worse in his eyes. "Even if Robert wouldn't go into a homicidal rage and have her gutted - along with you - who's to say Tywin Lannister wouldn't sick the Mountain on all of us to protect Joffrey's claim." He ran a hand through his long hair. "And what about Jon?"
The Lord of Winterfell visibly sagged. "Much as it pains me, he can't go with her. That would raise too many questions about our family - why the Stark bastard is with the Targaryen Princess. Anyone could see through that. And Lya made me promise to keep him safe, and with what is likely to come to pass he can't be safe here until Daenerys returns."
Eyes widening again, Benjen clicked his tongue. "So we're really doing this? Plotting the restoration of House Targaryen." Ned nodded. "Well… Lya would be proud of us… and you're right about Jon."
"From what has transpired in Essos, I believe it inevitable." As dangerous as the Watch was, it remained the one place that Robert and Tywin's hand couldn't reach. "Does he still wish to join the Night's Watch?" It had been Jon's dream for years, the boy quite excited about it.
Benjen sighed and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "He used to want to, but just now his entire tone about it was that he seeks to use it to escape whatever demons ail him." The youngest of Rickard Stark's brood pursed his lips. "Things are going on up there that simply scare me, but I agree. It's the only place that Jon can be safe from southern hands."
Both brothers hushed up as a couple of drunk Lannister guards sauntered by, talking about the whores in wintertown. "He can't know now, but we have to get everything that he needs up to Castle Black. In the care of your Maester." Ned then spent the next few minutes discussing how exactly his plans would work.
"You've really thought of everything, haven't you Ned?" Benjen chuckled dryly. "I just have one addition. You need to tell Catelyn."
It was unavoidable. "Aye."
They walked to his chambers in silence, that wing of the castle deserted with the family still in the great hall. Daenerys occasionally flickering her eyes at the form of her love. His shaven jaw set hard. Gaze ablaze with angered emotions. It aroused her, heightening his handsomeness - but the silence also disconcerted her. Is he angry with me? Part of her wanted to get angry herself, to slap him for his insolence. But at the sheer terror that had gripped her earlier, all Daenerys really wanted was Jon's love.
Silently opening the door so she could step in, it was clear she wasn't going to get it…
As soon as the door slammed shut she was pulled into the pair of strong arms she loved so much. "Oh, Dany, my love." His voice was back to the gravelly, gentle one she adored. "Are you alright?"
Wanting to cry but simply too wary, she just nodded in his chest. Smelling his wonderful scent. "I'll be fine, Jon."
"I wanted to kill him." His voice changed, back to one of pure anger and heat. "That monster that butchered your family. That tried your entire life to kill you… I wanted to behead him right there for daring to touch you."
Peering up at him, Dany stood on her tiptoes to kiss him gently. "You were reckless, Jon. Reckless and utterly, wonderfully brave." She hugged him close again. "Thank you. No one's ever cared about me that much before."
His heart broke at the sorrow in her voice. "Well that's something that has changed. I love you, Dany."
"I love you too." Enjoying his embrace, Dany's eyes drifted to the chest in the corner of her rooms. "Jon, come here." Furrowing his brows, Jon complied despite his confusion. Stepping close as she opened the chest, revealing the dragon eggs. She took the black one in her hands. "Please, my love. Bring the other two with me."
Nodding, he scooped up the cream and green ones. A tingling going through his body as he made contact with the scales. A warmth out of the cold stone - Jon figured it was in his imagination. Heart spiking as Dany placed the black egg into the fire, he relaxed. Unburnt. She's unburnt.
Daenerys felt a calm work over her. As if things were being put into place. "Jon, the others please."
He handed Dany the cream egg first, holding the green one close in his arms. Pressing the smooth scales against his cheek. Rhaegal. If only you were alive. The boy that dreamed of being the Dragonknight wished he could see these eggs hatch. To see dragons upon the world again. Finally handing the last egg to Dany, the same calm that washed over her came over him. "What was that for, Dany?" He cupped her cheek.
Walking into his arms, she sighed happily. "I don't know. It just seemed that they wanted to be there." Slowly, he began to work at the knots of her dress. Letting it fall to expose her underclothes - baring her bruised shoulder. Gingerly, Jon touched it - hand jerking back as Dany winced. "Don't leave… just be careful." at his nod, Jon leaned down. Dropping feather light kisses upon the blackening blotch, causing her to instead moan. "Jon… kiss me."
Mouths finding each other once more, their hands began to wander. A familiar heat building in both of them. "Do you want some wine? A Maester?"
She shook her head. "No… I just want you." He body shook with arousal. "Make me forget, my wolf."
Smiling widely, Jon gradually pushed her back to his bed. Reveling in the adoring stare that Dany was giving her. She sat back, fingers immediately going to the laces of his leathers. "Dany…" he murmured as the tips of her digits began tickling over his skin as she stripped him.
"I need to see you, my wolf." He refused to complain, staying silent and merely weaving his hands through her silky locks. Dany loved his touch. So warm, so loving - as if she were the purest of gold or the most fragile of glass. Something priceless to him. No one, not the covetous hold of Viserys, the lustful swats of the guards, nor the hard grope of the Usurper could compare. Jon Snow reignited her hope for the world. That some being out there did care for her.
If she spent the rest of her life fighting, struggling, all would be well because she had Jon Snow.
Bare before her, Jon grinned as Dany slipped out of her underclothes. "Mmmm, all mine, Dany." She rubbed her legs together, smears of wetness coating her inner thighs. She was soaked - he wasted no time, pushing her flat on the bed and climbing over her. "I need you."
Dany moaned as his cock lined up at her entrance. "I need you too." She gasped, head sliding inside her. Stretching her deliciously. "You feel so good inside me."
"I love being inside you, my dragon." Daenerys was so hot and tight around him - but Jon wanted to savor it. He begun a passionate but loving place. Pulling almost fully out of her before pushing back to the hilt. Grunting as her legs wrapped around him.
"Oh… oh… oh…" Demanding when he wanted to be, loving when he wanted to be, Jon was perfect. Her first, and his as well. Such facts made her heart swoon. "Gods, Jon, so good…" His strokes stoked a raging fire inside her, needing heavy gusts of air to burst. "I'm not a doll, Jon. Please. Harder," she growled into his ear.
Her words set something off inside Jon - a deep, building inferno that had sizzled for so long. "Fuck Dany, fuck!" He pounded into her, almost violently. "Say you're mine, Dany!" A deep thrust slammed into a spot that made her see dragonfire. "Mine to love, mine to hold, mine to protect mine to fuck! Say it!"
There was something about Jon Snow - how frenzied they fucked or how sweet they made love - he always set her alight. Always drove her to the edge and flung her off it. "Oh gods!" Daenerys screamed, feeling her climax coming. "Yours, Jon! All yours! Forever!" Only his mouth crashing on hers kept them from shrieking their finish to the entire castle.
"Explain to me why we are heading into the crypts, Ned?" Pulling a light cloak tighter around herself to ward out the draft, Catelyn stuck close to her torch-wielding husband. She never went down here - while there was no real reason for her to, the pitch blackness didn't endear it to her. And to have Ned drag her from her hostess duties by literally sneaking out of the great hall while King Robert pawed at a serving girl and Queen Cersei consulted with her brother was only making it worse. Catching the determined set of his jaw, she merely folded her arms.
Ned glanced down at her, a sheen on his face illuminated by the flickering flames. "Trust me, Cat," he said in an oddly loving tone for the normally dour Warden of the North. "Would I lie to you?"
"You did, once," replied Catelyn, who immediately regretted it. The once loving look hardened once more. Ned turned away, and the Lady of Winterfell closed her eyes to block out the pain and tears. I love Ned, I truly do. But that moment sixteen years before truly hurt her to this day. The man she loved… betrayed her - it had been a stain on their relationship ever since, never truly being able to replicate the ardor that had characterized their early marriage bed.
Turning a corner, deeper into the labyrinth, Ned turned to her once again. "I never meant it to hurt you. Not once, Cat." A pained frown crossed his lips. "I do love you, wife."
This surprised Catelyn. They never discussed the elephant in the room, even if it brought so much pain to the household - not since that very day… the day Ned Stark returned to Winterfell. "Seventeen years ago you rode south with Robert Baratheon, leaving me pregnant with our son." Catelyn Stark couldn't stop the tear that cascaded down her cheek.
A less gravelly, more jovial voice punctuated the din. "I know Ned loves you, Cat, and would never have found another to grace his bed. Not the Ned I knew." Blinking, Catelyn was finally made aware of a second torch hanging on one of the columns, directly in front of Lyanna Stark's grave - standing there with a crowbar in each hand, was Benjen. Nodding at Ned, he tossed him one of the metal bars. "What took ya so long?"
"Robert's easy to sneak by," Ned shrugged, walking beside his brother. "Cersei… not so much. Had to wait till she was talking with her brother."
Benjen laughed. "Lions my ass, I always said the Lannister house sigil should be a viper." Hefting the crowbar, he slid one of the ends inside a small crevice in the sarcophagus and began to push. "If you don't mind, brother?"
Watching the two of them try to wrench open a… panel in the sarcophagus baffled Catelyn to the core. A reason for them to hack at Lyanna Stark's grave - no reason came to mind. "Why are you two acting like fools?" she demanded, suddenly annoyed. "I did not consent to be snuck out of the most important feast I've ever put together just to peak at the bones of your long-dead…"
Cutting her off, the small stone panel dislodged, teetering over. It slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Catelyn smothered her mouth and nose with her cloak. "Damn it, Ned." But neither Stark listened to her, Benjen on his stomach and reaching into what seemed like an alcove underneath the tomb - something that was not usually present, if the funerals of Ned's father and brother were any indication.
Ned stood hunched over, holding the torch for Benjen's sake. He kept his eyes focused on her, however. "Forgive me Cat. I never wanted to lie to you, but I had no choice."
"What are you…?" Catelyn trailed off when she saw exactly what Benjen pulled out of the alcove. The nearly ossified round lumps. "What in the Gods?" Her jaw was dropped, completely shocked out of for the first time in her life.
Both brothers had the nerve to keep their eyes on the floor. "Cat, there's a story that you need to know…"