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Arya Stark (nothorsefaced) wrote in valarlogs,
@ 2013-03-04 02:04:00

Entry tags:

!complete, arya stark, bran stark, jon snow

Who: Arya Stark, Bran Stark and Jon Snow
What: Arya and Bran decide to wait up for Jon to come home
When: Monday, March 4th. Late Night
Where: The Stark's Home; Jon's Room
Rating: TBD
Status: Complete

Yes, Arya and Bran did have school the next morning and yes, it was quite late, but ever since Jon had come back a few weeks earlier the most Arya had seen of her older brother was the time they'd spent talking in his room the day he'd come back; since then he'd either been working or out. Arya didn't know where he was when he wasn't working, because it wasn't as if he knew very many people in California besides them, but she supposed he must have made friends at work. Yes, Arya was jealous, but she wasn't going to tell anyone. So as a result, Arya had suggested to Bran that one night, before Jon got home, they go into his room and wait for him and made him hang out with them for a little while. Of course she'd originally suggested it during February vacation, which would have been a better time to do it, because they wouldn't have had school the next day, but that hadn't happened and now, over a week later, Arya was tired of not seeing Jon and had practically dragged Bran with her to Jon's room that night.

"What is he staying out so long for anyway? Besides, it's Sunday. Who works a full time job on a Sunday?" Arya was mostly rambling as they reached Jon's room, but it was pretty clear that she was annoyed. Opening the door, Arya flicked on the overhead light and headed straight for Jon's bed, which she proceeded to sit down on then fell back, her legs hanging off the edge as she waited for Bran to come in and close the door. The rest of the family were already sleeping, so there was very little chance of them getting caught still up.

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secondson_
2013-03-04 01:37 pm UTC (link)

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend," Bran responded as he followed Arya into the room. It was easy for her to just flop onto the bed, but Bran had to use a little more effort. He grabbed the edge of the mattress, then hoisted himself up onto the bed with strong arms.

"She's probably got a tongue ring." Poor Jon, not even around to defend himself from the teasing of siblings. Bran pulled himself up toward the headboard and reclined back, looking at Arya.

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nothorsefaced
2013-03-05 12:12 am UTC (link)

Arya could have laughed at Bran's suggestion, but she managed not to and instead tilted her head back so that Bran appeared to be upside down from where she laid and wrinkled her nose, which was actually pretty difficult with the top of her head pressed into the mattress as she laid on her back, "Ew. He doesn't need a girlfriend with a tongue ring." Of course the girlfriend part was highly unlikely, considering Arya knew that Jon preferred men, but that was their secret, so she wasn't going to say anything to Bran, "And you'd better not want a girlfriend with a tongue ring either."

As the position she was in began to hurt her neck, Arya rolled over and moved so that she was sitting across from Bran, legs folded up underneath her, "Chances are, he's staying out as long as possible so that he doesn't have to run into mother." She'd always hated the way their mother treated Jon, but there was nothing she could do to change it.

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blackestsnow
2013-03-05 02:57 am UTC (link)

It was late Sunday night (technically Monday morning) by the time Jon's Rabbit pulled into the drive, tires munching gravel and the engine rumbling to a quite clink, clink, clink as he shut it down and metal and oil began cooling.

Flying Circus, And Now for Something Completely Different, The Holy Grail; Jon and Margaery had been halfway through Life of Brian before the two of them, full of food and drink, had started going cross-eyed and loopy. Life of Brian was already a drug trip and no match for tired brains so Jon had kissed and squigged Margaery goodbye, pleased at the start of her comedic education and nipped on home.

He was ready for bed now, exhausted from the long weekend and the prospect of a longer week ahead. Six am would be here too soon, but that was also a good thing.

Five hours from now and he would be sliding a cup of coffee into Robb's thin fingers and once more drowning in those captivating blue eyes.

That thought was enough to put a little pep in Jon's tired step so he used the energy boost to his advantage and climbed out of his car, grabbing his rucksack filled of DVDs and headed into the house as quiet as a shadow.

Over the years, Jon had grown adept at sneaking into Stark Manor. Not that he many reasons to creep around late at night for as secretive as Jon could be he didn't have much to hide from his family. There was really only one reason to be silent: Catelyn.

The house was large enough to avoid her during the day but at night when Ned and Catelyn would occupy the main sitting room to watch television or for family meals in the formal dining room, it was just easier on everyone if Jon made his polite excuses and found other places to be.

Tonight though it was late enough that Jon didn't see the harm in nipping into the kitchen for a cup of tea to take up to bed. Ducking his head inside first, he found the heart of the home to be vacant.

The same could not be said five minutes later when he brought the cup of tea to his quarters.

Startled to find his bedroom already occupied, Jon jumped a little, splashing hot tea over the rim of his cup. The liquid burned and Jon grimaced but did not curse; not in front of his baby brother and sister.

'Don't you have beds of your own?' he chided, stepping inside and dumping his rucksack on the ground, the tea cup on a coaster on his nightstand.

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secondson_
2013-03-05 12:50 pm UTC (link)

It was true, what Arya said and Bran's face fell from a smile to a scowl. He loved their mother, but he hated how she treated Jon, as if it were his fault he was ever born.

He'd been just about to throw a pillow at his sister for souring his mood when the door opened. Bran's frown turned back up a little, but not much. Hiding his emotions was not one of Bran's talents, never had been. It annoyed him that he couldn't just swing off the mattress and lunge at Jon for a hug (and to steal his tea cup).

"Yours is better," he said.

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blackestsnow
2013-03-06 06:19 am UTC (link)

'It's occupied is what it is,' grumbled Jon. Though, by this point Bran and Arya knew him well enough to recognise his grumpy tone was par for the course and very rarely reflected his actual mood.

It was just late. And Jon wanted tea and sleep.

Still, he was the eldest sibling. Half a sibling by blood, but a part of the family none-the-less and he loved his brothers and sisters as if they were full flesh. Jon could deny neither of them anything, least of all a late night visit. Arya because she was his favourite. Vivatious and adventurous, a true example on how to live life to the fullest.

And then Bran.

Jon and Bran had become a lot closer ever since Bran's accident. Probably because Jon didn't see or treat him any differently. Not like how most people now stopped to help him with tasks, or avoided talking about his condition all together. He didn't see the sense in that; his baby brother had fallen, a bird from the nest. Just because his wing was broken did not make him any less a bird.

So Jon took the piss out of him as much as he teased Arya for being a tomboy. And never once had he stopped to consider Bran anything less than the intellegent, cocky kid he'd been before he fell from a tree.

Pinching Bran sharply on the upper arm, Jon crossed the small span of his room and joined Arya on the bed, shoving her aside lovingly so he could curl up against the head board and his pillow, thank you very much. They might have been invading his room, but Jon would prevail in obtaining the cosiest place to settle into.

'And to what pleasure do I owe this intervention?' he asked, toeing his shoes off over the edge of the bed.

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nothorsefaced
2013-03-06 06:57 am UTC (link)

At the sound of Jon's voice, Arya glanced over at her older brother and grinned, "You mean this isn't the living room?" It was almost comical, the way Jon had stopped, spilling some of his tea and Arya was glad they had surprised him. She didn't get off the bed though, figuring that they'd already come to him, so he could now come to them.

Once Jon sat down on the bed, Arya was able to look at both of her brothers from where she sat in the middle of the bed since both Bran and Jon were sitting against the headboard. "This visit is because you have been here for like two weeks, but you've been virtually nonexistent during that time, so we thought that we would force you to hang out with us." Arya didn't really mind if she didn't get a lot of sleep, because she had a stash of redbull in her room and it wouldn't be the first time she'd downed one first thing in the morning.

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secondson_
2013-03-06 02:57 pm UTC (link)

"Ouch," Bran complained when he was pinched on the arm. "You're so aggressive."

As best as he could, Bran moved over to make room for their brother on the mattress. Seeing Jon again made his head reel as he forced himself to separate the Jon he knew in his dreams to the one that was sitting here between him and Arya. Bran let his head rest against the headboard and folded his hands over his stomach. He was almost to the edge of the mattress, but he didn't mind.

"Arya hits, you know," Bran pointed out, just another way to force Jon to be around them. "What have you been doing anyway?"

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blackestsnow
2013-03-07 06:31 am UTC (link)

'Yes, I am a brute,' Jon retorted, 'And as you well know I can lick the both of you with only one arm so be civil.'

Arya could hit hard, not just the natural flailing of an unhinged teenage girl but Jon had taught her to throw a proper punch. And Bran had tactics and a witty tongue, rivaling the minds of most well-educated adults. But Jon was years into training for a career which boasted armed combat, mixed martial arts and battle tactics. He was broader in the shoulders than both his siblings combined, built so much like their father and had graduated first degree in his concentration; there was no question which one of the three was the natural soldier.

Though, of the three, Jon was also the quietest and least likely to launch a frontal attack.

Picking up his tea cup, Jon blew across the surface before sipping, his dark curls falling round his face and catching the steam. Tea was his nightly ritual, as much as coffee in the morning and stretches at lunch. All good things to keep his body healthy, happy, in tune and functioning.

'I've been working,' he replied, lowering the tea cup and relaxing against his pillow. 'Almost nonstop, in fact. And tonight I've just come home from visiting Margaery. She'd never seen Monty Python, can you believe that?'

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nothorsefaced
2013-03-11 06:11 am UTC (link)

"Just be happy that I don't bite," Arya smirked then stuck her tongue out at Bran. This was what she enjoyed; sitting here with her brothers and teasing each other and wished that they had gotten more of an opportunity to do it when they were younger, but it had just been her and Bran teasing each other and on occasion Rickon. She had teased Sansa quite often, but it was never the same as with Bran. So, she was always happy when Jon was there, because despite the age difference, he would take it just as good as he could deal it out.

"Well you should tell your work that you need time to see your favorite siblings." If she were honest all Arya wished was that Jon didn't stay out so late after work because of Catelyn and that Catelyn wouldn't blame Jon for something he hadn't had any control over. "How has she not heard of Monty Python? Does she live under a rock?" Honestly, was that even possible?

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secondson_
2013-03-11 11:35 am UTC (link)

"Are you five now?" Bran teased Arya, reaching across Jon (mindful of his cup of tea) to tickle his fingers at his sister's ribs. Over the course of the years, he'd had to be more careful as Arya had developed breasts, something that Bran hadn't thought would ever happen.

When he was satisfied, Bran returned to his position. Margaery? Tyrell? Jon had met Margaery Tyrell? Bran had heard the Tyrells were here, but he hadn't run into them yet. "I hear she's from Sweden," was all he really had to say on the subject.

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blackestsnow
2013-03-11 04:10 pm UTC (link)

Tea cup clearly in danger with all the playful poking, Jon took one more sip before passing the bevvie to Bran and instructing him to set it back on the nightstand. 'On the mat mind! Uncooth Americans...'

Though Jon and all the Stark children shared an English noble father, Jon had always considered his half-siblings spawn of their mother: American red, white and blue.

Arya coud argue with Jon over it all she liked but fact remained they were all born in the States. Thy we're raised there, gone to school there, and currently lived there. Eddard was British but only he and Jon knew what it was like to have fresh milk delivered to the doorstep. To see a morning and an evening newspaper. Jon had grown up drinking socially, not secretively, understood the dangers of daleks, that yellow jelly babies should be avoided at all costs and that Sunday roasts were mandatory. A pancake was flat with sugar and lemon, spotted dick was not a disease and Big Ben was a bell, thank you very much. Emotions were invalid and the sun was a foreign body unwelcomed in his sky.

All things quintessentially British that his siblings could claim they knew but could never truly understand because they were not and could never be English.

'Yes, she's from Sweden and living auite close, actually.' Jon didn't say anything more about it; Arya knew her. Jon told Arya almost all the surface details of his life. And then she would, in turn, tell most of those details to anyone else who would listen. No surprise then that Bran knew Margaery's nationality.

'How have the two of you kept yourselves? Marks alright? Anything special?'

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nothorsefaced
2013-03-12 06:05 am UTC (link)

Arya let out a noise that sounded like a strangled squeal as she tried to stay quiet even while Bran tickled her and she attempted to smack his hands away. If Arya Stark had one weakness it was her ribs. Tickle her there and she would be down for the count; however, you'd best watch your back later, because she'd come after you when you least expected it. As far as the whole breasts thing went, Arya had developed later than other girls in her class, having already reached high school by the time she'd really begun to fill out, but chalked that up to all the sports she played. Even now they weren't very big and she preferred it that way, because then they didn't get in the way when she ran or swung a bat or spiked a volleyball.

Arya knew of Margaery from Jon, but aside from that she didn't really know anything about her brother's friend so she answered his questions instead, "Of course our grades are good. We have to keep them up if we're going to stay on our respective teams. Oh! You should ask Bran about his girl friends." She smirked over at Bran as she said it, still enjoying teasing him about Beth and Alyssa.

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secondson_
2013-03-13 09:56 am UTC (link)

Since his dreams were occurring on a regular basis, both Bran's accent and slang were distinctly British, or rather, very Northern as the Starks were in his dreams. It was something he couldn't help, he felt as if he'd been born with it all. Jon may have thought Bran was mocking his accent, though, and he winced when Jon said that. It was a jab that almost hurt, although Bran couldn't fathom why it would. He guessed he just wanted Jon to see him as just as good and if being British was above being American, that was how he wanted Jon to see him.

Bran didn't place the drink down, not yet. He took a whiff of it first, at least what was left. "I don't have any girlfriends," he mumbled with his face still close to the brim. It was true. He'd gone from the possibility of two, down to the possibility of one, and now the possibility of none. He supposed he was magic in more ways than turning into a wolf in his dreams.

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blackestsnow
2013-03-14 08:59 am UTC (link)

'You're young yet,' Jon defended, nudging Bran with his shoulder while simultaneously shooting Arya a daggered glare. She could be harsh at times, quite blunt and unknowingly hurtful; every bit as honest and fiery as Robb. Qualities which were at once both alluring and pointedly annoying.

Oh, Robb.

But Lord, was Jon a love-struck puppy. All big, beautiful brown eyes gone wobbly over the tall Scotsman.

Looking between his siblings, Jon was tempted to spill the sticks. Maybe drop a hint or a subtle brag while they were on the subject that there was someone in his life who'd caught his fancy. It'd have been a toss-up to see whether Arya, who knew his true orientation, would coo like the teenage girl she struggled so hard not to be or openly gag for the laugh. Bran, on the other hand, seemed a right stroppy cow on the subject of girls. Not knowing his half-brother was bent Jon guess a good nose rubbing would have him whinging something terrible, asking too many questions that Jon lacked the energy to confront that evening.

And then, of course, Jon preferred to keep this small bit of something - because really, what else was he to call their coffee-delivery, stolen snogging thing without proper title other than "something" - all to himself. His very own, and no one else's for the immediate future.

Just Jon and Robb. As if it had always been intended that way.

'Right. Plenty of time for the pull when you're older.' Reaching over Jon rescued the cuppa from Bran's fingers and shoved him a second time. 'Now scoot off to bed, the both of you. Before your mother skins the lot of us. School and work in the morning, get you gone.'

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