"Not in Westeros." That much had becoming increasingly clear the more time wore on. The seasons were so short, you could blink and they were gone, and yet there were others for whom that was apparently normal.

"I wish I had a better answer," he confessed, his words still a bit halting and unsure, some lingering part of him still fearful this might all be a dream, that he might answer poorly and have his father snatched away again. "It is a very strange place with a great many secrets."

He tried a smile, frail but genuine, his brow creasing as he fought the urge to begin weeping again. "But Jon and Sansa and Arya are all here," he abruptly continued, forcing himself onward. "We have a home. Or, the girls and I have a home, but Jon isn't far. We should— We should go. Get you in front of a fire. I can try to better explain what little I can."