Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Robb stood and stared into the mirror.
His reflection stared back.
It was just his face.
It was just a mirror.
It couldn't just be a mirror.
Robb had watched the girl, who his father had told him was called Jonelle, fall out of that mirror. He'd watched Jon fall through it. It couldn't just be a mirror.
He pressed his hand to the cold surface and patted it down. As though he might somehow find something. As though he could break through to the other side.
He’d wondered whether smashing the mirror would give him the result he needed, but that might only destroy Jon’s one way of getting home.
“You still looking at that thing?” asked Theon.
“You saw what I saw. Jon fell through.”
Theon sighed, eyeing the mirror. “It's a mirror.”
“Yes, but you saw!”
“Perhaps I don't know what I saw,” replied Theon.
Robb scowled, feeling around the mirror frame. “You saw what I saw; Jon fell through the mirror. You know he did!”
“It's impossible.”
“Ass.” Robb’s fingers caught against a notch on the back of the frame. He frowned, stopping to trace the shape of it. Spiked, with deep grooves in the edges. A letter. A word. He pressed his cheek to the wall, attempting to peer behind the mirror, but the gap was too narrow for him to see anything.
“There something back there?” asked Theon.
“Something’s carved into it,” Robb replied.
“Need a hand lifting it down?” Theon felt around the other side of the frame, attempting to lift it from the wall.
“Don't!” Robb hissed.
“Not going to see this carving otherwise.”
“If we damage the mirror, we might never get Jon back.”
His brother could be trapped on the other side forever.
“Then we be careful. What if this carving tells us something about what happened?” Theon grimaced. “If Jon did truly fall through the mirror.”
“You saw him,” Robb muttered, looking at the mirror. It looked so ordinary, but it had taken his brother away. “Help me with it then.”
Theon nodded and took the other side of the mirror. Robb grasped his. He hoped they weren't making a terrible mistake here.
“Ready? Lift.”
Together, they raised the mirror against the wall, lifting it from its hooks, and brought it down again to lean against the wall where it had been hung.
“There,” said Theon, looking pleased with himself.
“What are you doing?”
Robb raised his head to find Arya at the end of the hall, her grey eyes accusing.
“We need to get a look at this,” Robb replied.
“Did Jon really fall through it?”
Robb had seen his half-brother disappear through it every night for the last two sennights. When he woke up, his cried didn't bring Jon back.
“He did,” he replied.
Arya crouched to peer into the mirror. “Do you think if we broke it we'd set him free again?”
“Definitely not.”
Arya frowned. “That's what Old Nan says. The mirror has stolen Jon's soul and we need to smash it to let him out again.”
“She's just spinning you a story. Theon, can you help me lay this down?”
Theon took the other side of the mirror, while Robb shooed Arya away. Then they brought the mirror forward and lay it face down on the stone floor. The back was oak wood, dark and fine. The carving Robb had found was a few simple words. House Stark. Here and into perpetuity.
“What's that mean?” Arya asked.
“Now and forever.” Robb shook his head. “It's just a pretty thing to put on the back of a mirror.”
“Oh.”
He took the edge of the mirror. “Help me put it back. I think we need to talk to father and the girl that came through.”
The girl, Father had told them, was called Jonelle. He'd told them little else about her. She had been kept in the Maester’s tower, and Robb had been forgotten so far from approaching her.
“She's still recovering,” Father said when Robb asked, which had been his answer for the past sennight.
“Please, Father. I need to speak with her. I need to know what she knows.”
“I have spoken to her, and she doesn't know anything.”
“I was the one to find her. Do I not have a right to speak with her?”
“Robb, she was severely wounded. She needs the time to rest and recover.”
Robb met his eyes. “What are you trying to hide from us? I'm not a little child any longer, Father.”
“She doesn't need you crowding her.”
“I'm not lying! And I need her to tell me I'm not lying!”
She fell out of that mirror and Jon fell in. He'd seen it.
“Jonelle has confirmed your account of events,” his father said.
Robb froze. “She… has?”
“According to her, she is my bastard daughter.”
“But you don't…”
“Where she comes from, I have three trueborn daughters and two trueborn sons, along with my bastard daughter, Jonelle. For reasons unknown, Wintrrfell has been besieged by the Baratheons and captured by King Robert.”
“Is that why she was..?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Then Jon…”
Must have fallen straight through the mirror into a fight. He might have been killed before he could even get up.
“Jon is a smart boy. I have faith in him,” Father said.
“I should have helped him. I should have pulled him back. I should have stopped him falling!” Robb exclaimed. They could have kept Jonelle, and Jon would be safe.
Father sighed and shook his head. “What happened wasn't your fault, Robb. It must have been the will of the gods.”
“Theon and I took the mirror down,” Robb said, and explained what he'd found.
His father looked grim. “I’ll place men to guard it. But I'm afraid there may be nothing we can do for Jon from our side. His return may all be down to him.”