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The Twins	By : KissingtheShadows Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 18042 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 'A Song of Ice and Fire' nor its characters. I make no money for writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Twins
- 1
“Jon, go to your sister,”
He found her in the practice yard. Arrows whispered in the night as they landed; he knew they were hers from the dark feathers on the ends. A few of them stuck in the white ring, but most of them were in the very center. He stood back and watched her for a moment. Dressed in his wool doublet, boiled leather jerkin and black breeches, he leaned up against a post. The ferocity built into each shot through her off a few times, but improved her speed. She stood still in perfect form. Her eyes remained focused; everything about her oh-so-still as she loosened another arrow.
“I,” She loosened an arrow, “Hate,” And another, “Her,” A third one.
“She feels the same way about you,” Jon called out.
She looked over her shoulder a brief moment, and then returned to shooting. “I don’t care. I hate her all the same.”
Jon sighed. There stood the real difference between him and Lyanne: He tolerated Lady Catelyn and her snide comments, glares and general air of unpleasantness. Lyanne turned into wildfire. Lady Stark learned long ago not to provoke Lyanne. She wasn’t Jon. Her fire burned within minutes, especially what she said tonight. He walked up to her. She grabbed for another arrow before he quickly took it from her. Ignoring her protest, he tossed it aside into the weapons storage. She attempted retrieving it, but Jon held her back.
“You know Father’s furious with you now,” Jon told her.
“I don’t care.”
“As I’ve noticed.”
She stopped trying to push past him, and moved away. Lyanne looked beautiful even in her furious heat. Her long dark strands fell around the middle of her back; her long face and grey eyes matched his perfectly. The two twins had all the Stark features unlike their half-siblings. Tonight Lyanne wore her violet and purple gown embroidered rose vines along the neck and wrists; the gift their father gave her-a small egg-shaped gem-hung around the low neckline of her dress. It was no wonder why the Lannister guards never stopped gaping at her or why the tall one attempted to grope her as she poured their ale.
Which is when Lady Catelyn said something along the lines of: “Don’t mind her, Your Grace. She always calls for that sort of attention; bastard girls can never help themselves.”
Their father hushed her right away, but the damage had been done. Disregarding the King, Queen, royal family, and all their other guests, Lyanne shouted out in her rage: ‘I’d rather be a bastard than a noblewoman with a broom shoved so far ups her arse she sits upright!’A majority of the room chorused in laughter, Lady Catelyn shouted at her, and Lyanne left the hall in tears. Theon Greyjoy stood to follow her, but Jon beat him to the door.
“You embarrassed her in front of the royal family. You know she’ll make you regret it now.” He told her.
“Why isn’t she like that with you?” She asked him. “Why doesn’t she make her little spiteful comments to you? She always avoids you!”
“Because you’re a girl,” Jon answered honestly, “And she knows she gets under your skin.” He rubbed her arms soothingly, “Don’t let her get under your skin.”
He placed a kiss on her brow. Lyanne slipped right into his arms. The faint scent of vanilla reached his nose; he nearly melted. She knew how much he liked the vanilla she dabbed on her neck and wrists. Lyanne never lost an opportunity for teasing. Jon hugged her. He let her know he loved her.
“You’ll have to apologize,” He whispered. “Father will make you.”
“No,” Lyanne said, “I won’t give her the satisfaction of watching me apologize…” She buried her face into his shoulder.
He held her. Jon loved holding her so close, exactly how he had in their crib when they were infants. The way her body curved and dipped into his; how her hands clutched his shoulders and her face went right into the crook of his neck, made Jon feel one with her. They came into the world together; they would leave it together some day. He kissed the top of her head, burying his nose into the soft curls. She looked up at him, grey eyes drowning in tears. Jon used his thumb to wipe a falling one.
“Why does she hate us so, Jon? What wrong did we do to her?” She asked him.
“Living…breathing…walking, talking, existing…You and me, sister, are living reminders of our lord father’s unfaithfulness. She’ll always hate us as long as we live.”
“I sometimes wish Father never brought us here; that he left us with our real mother. Then we would know who she was…if she cared about us…She would never let that bitch say that to me. She’d defend me and protect me. She would love us…I know she would.”
They hardly spoke about their mother, because they never knew her. Yet, when Lyanne brought her up she’d turn away from him. Their father told her once she looked like her. Jon imagined her himself. He pictured spiraling dark hair and light colored eyes resembling Lyanne’s. He recalled once during a stormy night, Lyanne and Jon talked about her underneath his bed covers. They both agreed she must have been some gorgeous high born lady who could not keep them. Though, Jon knew better: She could be anything. Eddard Stark may have bedded a fisherman’s wife, a noblewoman, or even a whore. Though, Lyanne told him whores kept their bastards. If she were a whore, they’d be living in a brothel.
“Let us not talk about that now.” Jon cupped her cheek and brought her eyes to his. “I will have no more tears from you.”
Jon pecked her forehead. He paused, and then kissed her lips. The first was brief, but the second grew deeper. He tasted the cherry balm on her lips. The sweet flavor felt so intoxicating just as her scent and skin. Both his hands cupped her jaw to keep her head in place. His tongue massaged hers gently as ever. Everything became still. Jon never felt the cold summer air on his cheeks; the sounds from the nearby hall fell faint. All that existed was Lyanne. She wanted him. She needed him tonight.
Her fingers curled up into his hair, his sailing along the velvet of her dress. His hands familiarized her curves. He imagined the supple skin underneath his fingertips. He could hear her small gasps and moans already. Their lips pecked a few more times before breaking apart.
“Let us go to bed,” He said in a whisper, “And forget tonight.”
She nodded. Most nights they slept in separate chambers. Tonight, Jon would stay with her; nobody would ever know the wiser. He took her hand in his, leading her away from the practice yard towards The Keep. A majority of the castle feasted in the hall, so they did not worry about interruptions. The only person Jon ever worried about was Theon. He saw how the handsome youth gawked at his sister. It made his blood boil. If Theon ever found out about their love, he’d use it against her.
They reached his chambers on the second floor corridor. A fire already kindled in the hearth, crackling and spitting in bright orange embers. Two direwolves rested in front of it: they appeared almost twins themselves. Ghost’s pure white coat smoothed down on his body, his bright red eyes merely glancing at them. Lyanne named hers Winter, her white and light grey fur groomed while hazel eyes raised up looking at them. The opened door stood as a sign for exit. Ghost followed Winter out, and Jon shut the door.
“If they’re not with us, they’re together,” Jon said amused.
“Now they can be together elsewhere.”
She did not hesitate. She brought Jon into her arms in the middle of his bedroom. They kissed passionately; he gained entrance passed her lips in moments and her hands roamed up his chest. His own smoothed up and down her back. Jon took in every bit of her. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her jaw, and her neck. His lips caressed the skin, not nibbling or sucking anywhere. He dared not blemish her perfect skin. Her hands unbuttoned his jerkin, which he tossed aside; Jon casted away the top layer of her gown onto the floor. The more he removed, the eager he felt. Her hips pressed into his groin. A moan escaped her.
“Jon…” She breathed his name.
Their lips met once more. He took off the under layer of her dress, leaving her in only her small clothes. She undid his doublet and flung it alongside his chemise. His hand tangled into her hair, his other holding her jaw. The twins fell down onto the soft dark covers of his bed; the fur cover brushed against Jon’s back as Lyanne straddled him. His hands untied her bodice swiftly and deftly. His manhood prepared itself for the exposure of those delicate breasts. Once the bodice fell to the floor, he stared at her. The firelight silhouetted the rest of her, making her eyes sparkle in the dim shadow. Her white skin appeared more flawless than usual. Jon only saw her beauty tonight. No other woman compared to his beautiful sister. His hands clutched at her breasts. They squeezed them tenderly; his thumbs rubbed over her nipples lightly. She loved it when he teased her. He sat up from beneath her, his hands still toying with her.
“Shouldn’t we close the window?” He asked her between kisses.
They turned to the open window near them. The moon shined high in the sky amongst the clouds, the stars sprinkled across the black blanket. Tonight was a beautiful night.
“No,” She smirked. “Everyone’s in the hall.”
Her hands went into his hair again as he took one nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked the center of her nipple. Here, he did suck and gnaw affectionately. She squirmed in his arms at the sensation. Out of habit, her hips rolled upon his her so her femininity brushed on him. He grasped her backside which made her gasp. This only made her grind even more. She felt so good. He wanted to take her endlessly, though he refrained. After he kissed each breast equally, he trailed down her stomach then back up towards her neck.
Lyanne pushed him on his back again. Her hair curtained their kiss from the world; the vanilla scent surrounded him. Jon moaned feeling her hands unlace his breeches. She tugged them down until he could kick them off. Nude, his cock raging, Jon flipped Lyanne onto her back. His keenness began catching up. Her moans and whimpers aroused him. He slipped a hand into her small clothes while he kissed her. Her lower lips moistened at his touch. Lyanne squirmed slightly; it made him smirk in their kiss.
A finger rolled around her center, teasing her folds before sliding inside. Unhurriedly, he pulled and pushed his finger between her legs. The combination of their kiss, her bare breasts pressing on his chest and her wetness on his hand, Jon died for her. Lyanne wriggled at the touch of his hand. His lips kissed down her body towards her hips. Jon hooked his hands on her bottom small clothes, dragging them slowly along her thighs and legs. Naked under him, Jon could not hide his excitement anymore. He propped himself up on his arms; her legs wrapped themselves around his waist as he entered. Jon felt immediate relief. They moaned in unison at the contact. Her hands rested on his shoulders and then snaked around him.
The embers of the fire died down, and left a small dimness in the room; the hot water running through Winterfell’s walls surely kept them both warm. The temperature in the room rose amid the twins. That did not matter to Jon. He continued thrusting into his sister, his ragged breath mixing with her moans. Occasional kisses exchanged while her walls constricted. Every time seemed like the first. One hand felt up and down her side; it clung onto her hip but did not grip too tightly. Her hips began moving against his, only going deeper. They directed him in circles gradually. Her movements caused further moans. Normally, they’d be quick about it in case a servant walked in. Tonight, nobody would find them. She was his and he was hers.
Jon went a bit faster. His groans became grunts going along his thrusts. Her fingers dug into his skin; they clawed at him softly. He wanted her to last forever. The heat between them brought beads of sweat on them both; the bit of skin the light shined on made her glimmer faintly. Her walls clutched him now. He knew she was close. Jon knelt up away from her; his hands held the backs of her knees. He brought her closer to him, still pushing into her.
Suddenly, she flipped him over. She rolled her hips on his carefully, both of them moaning together. Jon urged her speed by taking her hips and guiding her quickly. Her breasts bounced slightly through her force and her hands kept his in place. Her moans escaladed higher; his grunts and groans intertwining into them. He stared down to their centers: Her wet sex glistened in the moonlight coming in through the open window. It gave them the bare minimum of coldness; his cock disappeared inside her before coming back out coated. Then her body stopped; her body trembled as waves of climax came over her. She threw her head back when she tightened around him; she called his name loudly. Soon enough, a similar tension built up in his lower stomach. Jon’s hips bucked up against hers uncontrollably. He lost himself in his pleasure, completely blinded and lost. He filled her completely with his seed.
She collapsed beside him. They breathed almost in sync; their chests heaved. Jon stayed silent in the darkness now. He felt suddenly cold when their warmth left him. His eyes shut tight for a minute as he tried recollecting himself. Though, she spoke first.
“I pity Lady Stark,” She whispered, resting her head on his chest.
His fingers brushed through her messy curls. “Why?”
She looked at him and grinned, “She doesn’t have you for a lover.”
They both laughed before finally drifting to sleep…
Little did they know Theon Greyjoy stood right below the open windows. His eyes stared directly at the shudders, a smile spreading across his face as he walked away from The Keep.
- 1
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The Twins