The Songs of Winter | Robb Stark

Chapter 41

Jon Snow

Robb's gaze fixes on me, his blue eyes searching, almost pleading. "What did you see?" he asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "When you... you know? When you died? Did you see... anyone?"

The question hangs in the air, weighted with all the grief and longing that none of us have been able to escape. I think back to those fractured moments, that place where shadows blurred into light, where time seemed to hold its breath. I saw her. I saw Aida. And for once, it felt real, as real as anything I'd ever known. But how can I tell Robb that? How can I give him hope when I can't be certain myself? What if it was only a trick, some illusion of the mind, or worse—what if it was real and somehow she couldn't come back?

I force myself to meet his eyes, schooling my face into an expression of practiced indifference. "Nothing," I reply, my voice steady.

Robb's expression falls, the hope in his eyes fading like the last embers of a dying fire. "Nothing?" he repeats, the word barely audible.

I nod, reaching for the cup in front of me, letting the warmth seep into my hands as if it could thaw the chill settling in my chest. "Nothing at all," I repeat, taking a slow sip, feeling the bitterness of the tea against my tongue. I don't look at him as I speak, afraid that if I do, he'll see the truth I'm trying to bury.

Around us, Sansa, Rickon, and Carlisle sit in silence, their hands cradling cups of tea, listening intently. They've all been filled in on how I was brought back, the strange magic that pulled me from death. Even now, I can see the disbelief in their eyes, though they're beginning to accept it. Still, the questions linger, hovering like shadows none of us can shake.

"So... there really is nothing after death?" Carlisle asks, his voice tentative, his gaze searching my face for some kind of answer.

I shrug, feeling the weight of their stares. "I wouldn't say that," I reply, my voice quieter, contemplative. "Maybe there is something. Maybe I just wasn't dead long enough to see it." The words feel hollow, yet they're all I can offer.

Sansa shifts beside me, her hand tightening around her cup, her brow furrowed as she looks at me with an expression of silent empathy. Rickon, still so young, gazes at me with a mixture of awe and confusion, trying to make sense of a world that now seems more mysterious and fragile than ever.

But it's Robb's gaze that weighs the heaviest. He studies me, eyes dark and filled with unspeakable grief. For a moment, I think he might press me, might ask again. I almost wish he would.

But Robb just nods slowly, staring down into his cup, shoulders slumping as if something vital had been drained from him. The silence stretches, heavy and unbroken, and I can feel the unspoken words lingering between us, words I can't bear to give voice to.

Clearing my throat, I speak softly, my voice barely above a murmur. "Robb, maybe you should take Sansa and Rickon to bed. They don't need to witness the execution." I glance over at them, my gaze lingering on Sansa and Rickon, a protective instinct tugging at my heart. "And... I think I need a moment alone before it all happens," I add honestly, the weight of what's about to come pressing heavily on me.

Robb meets my eyes, a flicker of understanding passing between us. He nods, then rises slowly, gesturing for Sansa and Rickon to come with him. Wrapping his arms around them both, he says gently, "Sure, I'll take these two to bed."

Sansa pulls away slightly, fixing him with a defiant look. "I'm not a child, you know." Her voice is firm, but there's a softness in her eyes, a trace of relief that things feel almost... normal, if only for a moment. "I can see the execution, Jon."

I meet her gaze evenly, my tone challenging yet gentle. "Do you really want to see an execution, Sansa?"

She hesitates, the defiance faltering for just a breath, and then sighs, shoulders slumping in reluctant agreement. "Okay, no, I don't," she admits, which earns a soft laugh from all of us. "But I can make that choice for myself," she adds, shrugging off Robb's arm. "And I'll be taking myself to bed."