"You're always freezing so that's nothing new," Robb gently reminded, his attention now set on unbuckling remaining wrist restraint. Once free, a thorough look-over was made; coaxing blood flow, massaging tender, paper-thin skin and making sure cuffs and cord hadn't been too tight. He frowned a little, jaw working as he considered Jon's recollections. All this talk of being held against your will set against wintry backdrop seemed eerily familiar and far too close for comfort.
"You must not balk, whatever is asked of you. Do as they bid you... but in your heart, remember who and what you are. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them, for as long as it takes."
Qhorin the Halfhand. Halfhand. Odd descriptor dredged from a borrowed memory but he didn't know it yet. Didn't know he was merely a spectator to Jon's distant past life experience bleeding over into modern day. A conduit between then and now, Robb was, in fact, the missing puzzle piece returned and reunited after a very long, very twisty ride through the time tunnel. A catalyst that would completely upend a family and friends and the man he loved.
Jon Snow. Brave and thoughtful. Smart, obedient, caring. Only Jon would be worthy of the task set before him by Qhorin, and instinctively, Robb knew it to be so. Knew in his heart Jon had accomplished "what needs be done" and returned from his bleak journey to the last known outpost of man. Terrible things existed beyond, and when it was all over, Jon could be counted as one of the few left standing at world's end.
If only I'd had you with me instead... Robb's melancholy longing prompting him to span his hands across broad collarbones, curling fingertips around shoulders, grip and dig nails possessively into flesh. Tactile reminder that Jon was here and quite warm and safe and snug, Robb pressed reverent kisses to forehead, both cheeks and chin. Making a sign of the cross as if that held any sort of weight these days. Phantom protector long since fallen out of favor once science overtook religion as the go-to for all life's great quandaries.
Reassured now, he breathed a tender, "S tusa grĂ dh mo bheatha," against awaiting lips.