Through the Looking Glass

When dawn broke, Jon’s little travelling party built a little camp by the side of the road. They shared out some of their meager food and attempted to get the wolf pups to take some of the water. They needed milk, but there was none out here. Jon hoped once they regained some strength, they’d be able to feed the little beasts mushed up meat.

He and Jeyne sat watch for the first watch, and woke Lyarra and Beth for the second. 

They slept huddled under bushes, their pups kept snug against their chests. Unlike her littermates, Jon’s little white female had yet to make a sound, but he was certain she was healthy. 

When they woke, the sun was already high in the sky. Jon rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “Let's not waste the light. We should keep moving; just stay aware.”

They stayed clear of the Kingsroad as they kept moving, skirting through the trees. Jon had come north through the Wolfwood before, though he'd never reached as far as the North. They only needed to reach Last Hearth, he kept telling himself, though his fear and worry squirmed inside him. 

They continued on for a day and a half, hiding at the sound of hooves or men breaking through the trees. The dragons mostly clung to Lyarra, though the grey one had shown some interest in Jon and several times tried to jump onto his arms. 

“He probably thinks you look like his mother,” Lyarra said. 

Beth and Minisa giggled at that, hiding their mouths behind their hands. 

“I'm not their mother,” Jon grumbled.

He did have some interest in the dragons though. In another life, these could have been his. This could have been his family fleeing their home. And Joni had found the magic to bring them to life. If she could do it, why not him?

Jon’s stomach twisted into a knot. Dragons were a powerful weapon, but he didn't want one. He wasn't a Targaryen.

“We know that. But he doesn’t.” Lyarra scratched the dragon’s head. “He’s probably confused about where his mother went, and you do look like her.”

“Or she looks like me,” he said.

Lyarra smiled at that, but Jeyne and Beth went quiet.

“Do you think we’ll see her again?” asked Minisa.

“I don’t know,” Jon admitted. He hadn’t been able to get back through the mirror, and he didn’t know if there was another way back. He and Joni could both be stuck where they were now.

Hoofbeats pounded through the trees. Now for the first time that day they scattered, fleeing to find hiding places. Through the trees, Jon caught glimpses of yellow and black. Baratheon knights. Someone must have seen their little group out here; one of those that had chased them earlier perhaps.

He spotted a large oat tree and scrambled up it, taking refuge in the highest sturdy branches. His little pup snuffled against his chest, but he trusted her not to make a sound. She never did. Jon had named her Ghost, for she hadn’t made a sound since the moment he found her.

Beneath him, the knights moved around the trees, fanning out to search. Jon held his breath, wrapping his arms tightly around Ghost.

This wasn’t even his Winterfell. He wasn’t going to die here.

Someone screamed. One of the girls. Jon winced and buried his face in Ghost’s white fur. There was nothing he could do to help them now. He could only hope some of them hid and escaped.

“Spread out and search!” shouted one of the knights.

Jon held his breath, though he didn’t suppose it would help. Beneath him, the knights dismounted and kicked their way through the undergrowth. Another scream. Jon closed his eyes against his tears of panic.

It felt like an eternity before the knights finally regathered on the Kingsroad. Jon could hear snatches of their conversation, which included, ‘Girl,’ ‘Sister,’ and ‘Winterfell.’ Another two knights returned for another search, then at last turned round and left.

Jon still stayed where he was for some time after they’d gone. Only when the sun started to dip lower and lower in the sky did he climb from his tree, cradling Ghost against him. She licked his fingers and he smiled. He’d have her, if nothing else.

The first body he found was Jeyne’s. She was sprawled across the ground, her blood pooled around her and soaking into the soil, her brown hair soaked.

“Jeyne,” Jon whispered, creeping towards her.

Jeyne remained still.

He touched her arm. Warm, but cooling. 

Dead.

Jon swallowed his distress and continued.

Further into the trees, a flash of movement caught his attention. Jon jumped, reaching for his knife. Not that it would protect him against a knight.

A bundle of silver crawled from the roots of a tree. Not a knight. Minisa’s pup. Jon knelt down and scooped the pup up, tucking it alongside Ghost inside his jacket. The two snuggled together. It was awkward, carrying the two, but he just needed to find the others.

Berena was with Beth, peering at her limp body. “Beth?” she asked, touching her hand. “Beth, it’s not time for sleepy.”

Beth was still.

“Berena,” Jon said, gesturing for the girl.

She jumped, and then her face brightened when she saw who it was. “Joni!”

“Come here; come away,” he said.

“Why Beth sleeping?”

“She’s…” Jon took her arm and led her away, until they could no longer see the body. “Berena, Beth’s not sleeping. She’s dead.”

Berena’s blue eyes swam with tears. “Dead?”

“Do you know where your sisters are?”

Berena sniffled and hugged her own pup closed. She’d named it Fluffydog, which was one name a wolf could be given.

“They take Minisa away,” she whispered.

Jon’s stomach twisted again. If they’d taken Minisa, they’d have taken her back to Winterfell. He wanted to hope that King Robert wouldn’t kill a little girl, but he couldn’t say for certain.

“What about Lyarra?”

Lyarra had run further, deep into the trees. She called for Berena upon seeing her, and the younger girl ran into her arms.

“Mind the pups,” Lyarra said as she hugged her. Then she looked around. “Where’s Minisa?”

“They took her,” Jon replied, and Lyarra’s expression crumpled.

He had to tell her of Beth and Jeyne too, and Lyarra wailed with her misery. They had no way of burying or burning the bodies, so instead they covered them with branches and flowers and whispered prayers for the dead. 

“We need to go back to rescue Minisa,” Lyarra said. She'd taken Minisa’s silver pup from Jon and was cradling it against her like it might replace her sister. 

“We can't. The Baratheon men know we’re out here somewhere now; they'll come looking for us. We have to reach Last Heath.”

Jon wasn’t sure whether Lord Umber was loyal enough to House Stark to protect their fugitive children from the King, but he'd just become their only chance. They'd never outrun knights on horses all the way to the Wall. 

“I'm not leaving Minisa.”

“We don't have a choice.”

Lyarra stared at him, her expression fractured with heartbreak. Maybe it was easier for Jon, knowing these weren't the siblings he'd grown up with, but his heart still broke for her. 

“I will never forgive you,” she said. 

“I don't blame you for that,” he replied. 

They continued through the rest of the light and into the night, finally stopping to rest as the night dimmed. Jon wished he could have pushed on, but he was growing woozy with exhaustion and needed to sleep. 

He took first watch alone, since there weren't enough of them to have two watchmen now. Lyarra took over and when his eyes closed he saw Jeyne and Beth, red with blood, pleading for his help. 

Jon hoped Joni was doing better than him at protecting their family. 

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone.