The Story of Rebecca Snow (Game of Thrones fic)

Meeting the Wolves

What if Bran Stark wasn't the first of the Stark children to be confined to bed? What if Jon Snow wasn't the only bastard that Lord Eddard Stark took in as his own?

The Story of Rebecca Snow 

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CHAPTER 1 

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"Becca? Are you sleeping?" asked a small voice.  

"Shush stupid of course she is. Her eyes are closed aren't they?" came a young girl's voice. 

"You shouldn't assume, Sansa. A lady ought to let all become clear before casting judgement." I said quietly. The boy giggled.

I opened my eyes sleepily to see my younger brother, Rickon, not a foot from my bed. Sansa our sister stood behind him, appearing slightly cross.

"Don't frown, sweetling. Your smile is too pretty to waste." I said gently. She smiled despite herself. Weakly propping myself up on pillows, I turned my gaze to the ever happy Rickon, who seemed bursting with excitement. I quickly worked out why as my elder brothers, Robb and Jon, walked into my room, followed shortly by my other younger siblings, my sister Arya and brother Bran.

It was then that I noticed what my family carried. In each of my siblings arms was a tiny puppy. I patted my bed with both hands, an invitation for them all to sit.

Robb and Jon, as always, sat at the foot of my bed. Sansa used to cuddle against Robb but nowadays opted a more ladylike approach, perching gracefully on the edge about midway. Arya, the little terror she was, had no such concerns. I chuckled as she plonked herself on the bed in a less than ladylike way, and lay beside me. Bran sat cross legged between my own legs, and Rickon the little softie came and sat on my lap, cuddling into me.

Wrapping one arm around his small frame and another around Arya's, I smiled at my siblings.  

"Well go on then," I grinned, "tell me how you got these little sweethearts."  

All of them began babbling excitedly at once, and I had to let out a high pitched whistle to get their attention. They all stopped, and I looked at Robb.

"We came across a direwolf corpse in the Wood, a freshly whelped one by the looks of things." 

"Jon?" I asked my second brother. 

He nodded. "The pups were crowded around her, trying to nurse. Poor things were starving." 

"Theon wanted to kill them!" piped up little Bran.  

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He continued. 

"But Jon spoke to Father and pointed out there was one each for me, Sansa, Arya, Rickon and Robb, so father is letting us keep them."

"And doesn't poor Jon get a pup, after gallantly saving them from the evil Theon Greyjoy?" I teased as Theon himself appeared in the doorway. He rolled his eyes and walked off with a snort. The children giggled and Robb and I shared a grin. Arya continued where Robb left off.

"But Jon found a little white one hiding from the others! It's his now." she cheered. I smiled. It was somewhat appropriate. Jon and I were both bastards, but only Jon was genuinely related to the Starks.  

"Well that's nice. All of the Stark children get one then don't they?"

"They do indeed." came the strong voice of our father as he strode into the doors, nodding at Robb and Jon, smiling at Bran and Sansa and ruffling Aryas hair. Shifting Rickon slightly he leant down and deposited a small, wriggling bundle of dark fur onto my lap. He looked at the sudden audience, and yipped once, before yawning widely and falling asleep on me. Everyone chuckled, and let their pups go to rejoin their brother on little old me. Poor Rickon wasn't terribly happy at being moved though, and pouted until Robb picked him up with a grin and sat him on his knee.

"What will you call him Becca?" Arya asked curiously, absentmindedly scratching behind her own pups ears. I shrugged.  

"What names have you all chosen then?"

"Greywind" Robb said proudly.  

"Ghost" Jon smiled slightly.  

"Lady" Sansa said, sitting straighter. 

"Summer" grinned Bran. 

"Nymeria" Arya proclaimed grandly. 

Rickon just grinned widely, picked up his pup again and exclaimed happily;  

"Shaggydog!"

We all laughed, until I started coughing loudly and painfully. Everyone jumped up to help. Robb went off to fetch the Maester despite my half coherent protests, Jon ushered the pups off me and onto the floor, Sansa hurriedly poured me a cup of water and Arya shushed Rickon, assuring him everything was okay.

"She's just having a funny moment, see?" Poor Rickon still whimpered, reaching out to me. With the last of my wits I pointed to the door. They took the hint and left quickly, poor Rickon wailing by now. Only Jon stayed, rubbing my back and calmly talking to me.

I coughed until my throat was raw. When I recovered, Jon guided me back to a comfortable reclining position, and gently fed me sips of water, encouraging every swallow and soothing every hiccup. I gradually got my breath back, just as the Maester arrived with a few bottles and jars, Robb right behind him with a worried expression furrowing his brow.

"Are you alright, Lady Rebecca?" the old man asked worriedly. I tiredly patted his pale hand gently and assured him I was fine. He still insisted I swallow a foul blend of Milk of the Poppy and milk of something else I didn't particularly want to know about. Admittedly it did soothe my throat, and I managed a smile, before waving them all away.

Once again, Jon stayed. He read to me as I lay there, as he often did after my fits or coughing spasms. I'd miss him horribly when he went to the Wall, but I refused to let that bother me. For now I was content to let his soothing voice lull me to sleep.

"Shadow." I murmured. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I pointed to the tiny black direwolf curled up against my side. "Shadow. We are like twins, you and I. We share a nameday, and an age. So if you shall have the pale Ghost, I shall have the dark Shadow" I said, hearing him chuckle lightly before I fell soundly asleep.