Trueblood || Jon Snow ✓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 ~ 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

Jon froze at the voice. The voice that seemed to follow no matter where he went. After leaving Yelena he'd gone to beat the hell out of a training dummy. But now he could hear her again.

"You get married. You adapt, learn to love."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do that... how I'm supposed to look at him and not think..." She came into view on the other side of an archway, looking miserable, his wolf cloak pulled tight around her shoulders as if to protect herself from further pain.

"You'll learn, sweet cub." the other voice replied softly. Jon's gaze was drawn to the short man beside her, a dwarf in fact. He'd heard about him from Yelena; her Uncle Tyrion. The man seemed to see him too, his brow furrowing slightly. "Why don't you head to your chambers? You should rest after such a stressful night." After sending her off, the lord strode purposefully under the arch toward Jon. "You must be Jon Snow." he said matter-of-factly. "You made my favourite niece cry. I've never seen her cry. Not even as a baby."

"Neither have I." Jon replied quietly, looking down.

Tyrion's eyes searched the boy, reassessing his thoughts on him at his reaction. "You do love her don't you? But you're a bastard. That's why you're going to the Wall. You're protecting her." That caught Jon's attention. He looked back at the dwarf, who gave him a small rueful smile. "Good lad." he said quietly. "You've spared her the pain of pointless hope." That wasn't quite right, Jon thought as he remembered letting her kiss him, but he stayed quiet as he walked away, the word bastard ringing in his ears. "Did I offend you?" Tyrion called as he followed. "Sorry." He didn't sound very sorry. "You are the bastard though."

Jon turned to glare at the man. "Is there a point you're trying to make here, dwarf?"

"Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor... and it can never be used to hurt you."

Except when it tears me from the one I love. He thought bitterly. "The hell do you know about being a bastard?"

The short man gave a little sigh. "All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes."

**Yelena POV**

The sounds of the party downstairs reached all the way up to Yelena's room as she stumbled towards her bed, slowly unlacing the horribly tight dress as she flopped down on the soft surface. As soon as she felt the safety of her own bed around her, the tears came again, the sobs ripping themselves from her chest. There was nothing left to do, nothing left to say. Jon had forsaken her. She knew why he did it, but she'd hoped beyond hope that she might convince him to stay, that she could run from this life forced upon her. She could not. She felt her breaths come easier as a little bundle of warmth snuggled into her, comforting her. She pulled the wolf into her arms, another droplet trickling down her cheek. At least Lishay would never leave her.

Jon did not speak to Yelena the rest of her stay there, and it broke her heart. She made peace with her father, which was much easier when he was sober, and kept away from the eldest Stark brother. Being the kind man he was, Robb gave her the space she needed, but she knew this was unavoidable. After Bran's fall she visited the poor boy every day and did her best to raise Lady Catelyn's spirits, but in the end it proved useless. Catelyn feared for her little boy more than ever and Yelena walked out feeling a little more crushed every time.

She sat with her family their last morning at Winterfell, feeling sadder than ever. She couldn't say goodbye to her best friend, couldn't even look him in the face because of their betrothal. And Jon... she bit down on the thought like the cruel little bug that it was. It was then that Tyrion came in, scooting over Tommen to sit beside her while he ranted about what he wanted for breakfast, bringing the smallest of smiles to her face.