Til Death Do Us Part...

Wedding Day 15

With every grain of rice that touched their cheeks and faces, Jon started to walk faster and faster, pulling Ilva with him. In the end they were running and laughing, with Arya and Sansa on their heels, until they reached the parked car.

"After you, Ilva Snow - the Winter." Jon opened one of the doors and Ilva shook her head while she allowed Sansa to help her get in.

Ilva Snow - the Winter. No matter how often she heard her new name out loud, she was not getting used to it already, not yet. "How often are you gonna say that today? My new full name?"

Jon's hip touched hers while he sat down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and for a moment he didn't say anything. "Until I'll finally believe it's true."

Ilva reached for his hand and squeezed it, gently, but firmly. She knew what he meant, but she also knew she would never fully understand how he felt, what was going on in his mind, which emotions were rushing through him. "It's true..." Ilva whispered. "I married you, Jon Snow. I married you and I will be your wife for the rest of your long life." She let her head rest on his shoulder.

"He would have looked handsome in his uniform, with all his medals." Jon tightened his grip on her shoulder. "He already looked handsome in that uniform without them. And without the smile of the happiest man alive." Jon swallowed and Ilva felt her smile fading.

She closed her eyes to prevent more tears from rolling down her cheeks. "Today should be about you, Jon, about us." She took a deep breath. "He had a funeral and he'll get countless of moments we'll remember him and honour him and will talk about him, but today..."

"As kids we liked looking at those picture of Catelyn and dad." Jon continued as if Ilva hadn't interrupted him. "Dad looked so proud and amazing." Jon bit his lip. "When we kinda forgot what dad looked like, we just had to look at that picture for it all to come back."

"Jon..." Ilva opened her eyes again and she pressed the palm of her hand to his stubbled cheek, forcing him to look at her. "I know you miss your dad today. And we both miss Robb, but..." She shook her head. "I don't want to spend my entire wedding day crying because Robb isn't here, because your dad isn't here, because this dream is missing a few pieces to be absolutely perfect. And somehow, that's exactly what's happening anyway."

"It's okay to cry." Jon curled his fingers around her wrist and pushed her hand away. "Because this day isn't perfect. I can't make it perfect. And I know that and that's fine, but..." He paused for a moment and he let her hand go to reach for something in the pocket of his jacket. "I was actually building up towards something."

Ilva widened her eyes. "And here I thought that we had promised each other no other presents apart from the one in the bedroom tonight?" She smiled a weak smile and tried to lighten the mood, but failed hopelessly. "Is this present gonna make me cry even more?"

Jon didn't say anything, but his nervous hands played with a small black box. "Yeah, I think it will make you cry even more." Jon looked up at her, his eyes meetings hers. "Because it's not really my present."

"Maybe..." Ilva held her breath and then exhaled as if she could make the pressure on her chest disappear that way. "Maybe you shouldn't give me those kind of presents before this day is over."

"No, I have to give it now." Jon spoke firmly and he used both his trembling hands to click the black box open. "He was gonna give it to you right now, righter after the wedding vows, in private, when it was just the two of you."

Ilva knew that fighting the burning tears was useless, but she tried anyway. "Please, don't..." She didn't mean it, she wanted that gift, she wanted it more than she liked to admit, but she also didn't want it. "Not now. I don't want to get out of this car as wrecked mess."

"He'd want you to have it and wear it." Jon turned the box towards her and Ilva pressed her fist to her lips when she saw the glimmering silver heart shaped necklace. "I want you to have it and wear it. It was never mine and I already had it for way too long." He touched the silver heart and lifted it up. He needed a few attempts to click the medaillon open, but even before the picture was fully revealed tears rolled down Ilva's cheeks, dripping on her bright white dress.

His smile was even more beautiful than she remembered. His golden curls blown by the wind gave him that boyish look she loved so much, even though he liked to remind her that he was in everything a man. He hated this picture and forbade her to put it anywhere in the house, but she loved it. She had always loved it.

"I can't wear this..." Ilva stuttered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Not today." She shook her head. "I'm marrying you. I've married you. I'm your wife! Today is about us, about you and not about him."

Jon closed the medaillon again and with the tip of his tongue between his slightly parted lips he tried to click the clasp open. "Maybe today is not about him." He eventually succeeded and even though she had protested a little, Ilva turned around and held her loose curls aside. "But he's always there. He'll always be there."

Ilva's hand touched the cold silver, now dangling right above the silver wolf necklace she had already worn. "How often do I need to tell you that you're not just second best? That you're not just a stand in? That you're not just the best of the rest?" Ilva let the heart go and stared at Jon once more.

"I know, I know." Jon quickly interrupted her. "That's not what I meant." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I want him to be part of our lives, okay?" Jon leaned in until his lips touched Ilva's and with his thumbs he started to wipe her tears away. "Because without him, I wouldn't be me and I wouldn't have met you."