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You were not a poor sister.

You were no sister at all.

[He's awful at this. But at least he's honest.]

It was not your fault.

[ WAY TO MAKE YOUR SISTER CRY, JON. ]

I— I would not love me either.

Don't be foolish. Robb loves you well enough.

And I love you as well.

[ This is like the worst Hallmark moment ever. ]

You show it strangely.

By wanting you to be honest? By wanting you to be a Stark once more?

Do not say that this day's conversation about my time at the Wall is something that speaks of my love for you, when I've had the kind of time since Arya chose to deny everything about me she can.

Why then are you allowed your secrets when I am not allowed my own?

You— you cannot judge us by the same means by which you judge yourself. You do not know what war does to highborn girls. We suffer far different fates than men. [ She shakes her head. ] Do you know what being the last Stark won me?

Because it is the only thing that has ever been mine! That was not intruded upon, taken away, held at arms length, told no, Jon Snow, this is not for you, this is for those born with their father's name.

[Oh, crap. That wasn't supposed to come out. He gets sullen, then. He had his relationship with Arya and that's gone, and now his relationship with Ygritte is gone as well.]

Highborn girls, lowborn boys. You suffered for your name and I suffered for the lack of it. And Robb died for it.

[ Jon grows sullen and Alayne goes silent, her mouth pressed closed to keep inside whatever ugly sob would pass her lips otherwise. Still, in her silence large tears roll down her face, indignant and ugly. (She will be ashamed later, when she looks back at this memory and wishes it were plucked from her like a snagged thread in an otherwise passable tapestry.)

Jon speaks of loving her but she thinks perhaps it is a lie, something he tells himself only because that is what is expected, because it is a duty. (Siblings love one another.) How could he love a sister held at arms length? A sister who called him nothing but Jon Snow? It did not matter whatever lessons Alayne had learned and looked to amend. The offense was there and buried hard and deep.

She says nothing, tells herself to want for nothing.

(Selfish, foolish, stupid Sansa. Look what great folly you have done. Not even I can fix it with all my cleverness and father's lessons.) ]

[He sounds tired, abysmally, horribly tired.]

I'll send Ghost.

[Comfort without Jon. Ghost is the largest, the most comfortable to lay upon.]

No, [ she says quickly and shakes her head again and despite the terrible mess of her tears finds a voice steady enough with which to speak in subdued certainty. ] No, Ghost is your companion. I have taken enough from you already.

[ Alayne lowers her gaze, she does not look up again. ] I will try to make amends with the wildling woman, if it please you.

Simply....

She is not like any of the ladies you know. She is no lady. She will not understand courtesies.

[Jon is trying to help. And Ghost is going anyway.]