[Telephone to Robb Stark] Who: Robb McLellan and Jon Snow When: 23 March 2013; small hours Status: Complete Word Count: 4,120
Getting Arya to bed had been an excruciatingly long process truncated by her abrupt exhaustion. Starting with finding her in the mess of the party, far too cranky in light of the evening's progression to put up with pissed teens and their hormonal stupidity.
Not that Jon's present attitude wasn't driven entirely by testosterone and a sickening bellyache from unattended matters but that was stubbornly justified. A man fully grown in a budding relationship versus mindless grubby teens.
He'd wanted to pound their faces in.
Blissfully, getting water and food into Arya had been a much easier process and by the end, much of his anxiousness had dissipated in the hours spent nursing her through the worst bits. But it was his sister's alcoholic inspired curiosity in the love-nips marking his neck which drove Jon quietly from the trailer once she'd finally, and thankfully, passed out.
Bundling up in his peacoat, Jon sat on the trailer steps and leaned against the door, selecting Robb's number from his favorites screen and dialing.