[Start your own modeling agency and rope in all your friends Stiles, be an entrepreneur!]
Aye, I suppose I could understand that. Most nights, I still miss Winterfell. [Other nights he's just too wiped to think about it before he passes out.]
It's- [He hesitates, fingers carding through the direwolf's fur as a distraction while she finishes licking up the last of the milk from the bottom of the bowl.] Aye, it's the snow, and the furs, and the walls, warmed by the hotsprings that Winterfell was built on - and my brothers, whose beds I'd share when it got too cold. When I left, it was the last I saw them.
You shared your beds with your brothers, huh? Is that a, uh, Westerosi thing? Some weird... you know, I don't need to know that. What happens in Winterfell stays in Winterfell.
[Jon. Now he thought you were gay, Jon. Gay and boning your bros.]
[Does he look like a Targaryen to you, Stiles?? ...Don't answer that.]
It wasn't weird, it was for warmth! [No pajamas warmth! You know what, let me just stop right there.] What's wrong with you? They were my bloody brothers.
Hey, it's not like incest hasn't happened in royal families or anything. And it's not really a thing with, ah, brothers. I don't know. I don't know the customs where you come from. Jesus. Maybe you just have all night naked parties.
Well, how am I supposed to know any better? You've got bastards and people sold into marriage and dragons and... maybe incest parties are way down on the naughty list.
No, not as such. The old gods aren't the Seven, there's not so many rules.
[Jon did have some faith, more now perhaps than he'd ever truly had in Winterfell (it seems to him that the weirwoods have more power in the wild beyond the Wall), but he's not exactly religious. There's nothing truly organized about worship of the old gods.]
[His family hadn't been particularly religious and he'd pretty much given up on even the idea of god when he'd seen his mom in the hospital. And after.]
Not everyone gives a crap what a bunch of things that may or may not be there and probably don't give a damn about anyone anymore think.
I suppose. [Well, to each his own. Jon shrugs. It's strange, but it's also not the first time he's encountered the opinion.] Thank you, for the potion.
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Oh, you're being difficult.
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Nuh uh. There's just... things. Things certain people need to achieve things. I need my pillow.
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You've no interest in achieving anything?
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It's not like I don't sleep, Jon. God. I'm just not sleeping as well as I would be if I were home.
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Aye, I suppose I could understand that. Most nights, I still miss Winterfell. [Other nights he's just too wiped to think about it before he passes out.]
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That's the big castle thing, right? Is it just the snow or... other stuff?
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[Jon. Now he thought you were gay, Jon. Gay and boning your bros.]
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It wasn't weird, it was for warmth! [No pajamas warmth! You know what, let me just stop right there.] What's wrong with you? They were my bloody brothers.
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Hey, it's not like incest hasn't happened in royal families or anything. And it's not really a thing with, ah, brothers. I don't know. I don't know the customs where you come from. Jesus. Maybe you just have all night naked parties.
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That's vile. And they're not parties.
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[Rub rub. That hurt, tall, dark, and punchy.]
Well, how am I supposed to know any better? You've got bastards and people sold into marriage and dragons and... maybe incest parties are way down on the naughty list.
[Now he was just teasing.]
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Incest is on the short list of things that actually offend the old gods. That, and kinslaying and oathbreaking.
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[So he fibbed now and then. It was usually for a good reason. Maybe. Sometimes. Okay, shut up, Jon.]
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[Jon's a fairly practiced liar, himself, but in his defense he does generally try to keep from doing so in godswoods.]
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[Stiles knew this as fact, bro.]
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[Jon did have some faith, more now perhaps than he'd ever truly had in Winterfell (it seems to him that the weirwoods have more power in the wild beyond the Wall), but he's not exactly religious. There's nothing truly organized about worship of the old gods.]
Do you not keep any gods, Stiles?
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[His family hadn't been particularly religious and he'd pretty much given up on even the idea of god when he'd seen his mom in the hospital. And after.]
Not everyone gives a crap what a bunch of things that may or may not be there and probably don't give a damn about anyone anymore think.
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[No. No babies. Keep small fragile screaming things away from him.]
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A baby? What would I be doing with a baby?
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I have no idea. What would anyone be doing with a baby?
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I do hope someone has given you The Talk by now, Stiles, you're a man grown.
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[Yes, Stiles had done the freaky-freak dance all of once before coming here. And it had been in rather extenuating circumstances.
But it still counted.]
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I've only ever met one man who thinks he's as funny as you think you are.
[Jon doesn't know whether it would be perfect or a disaster if Pyp and Stiles ever met.]
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