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“Uncle Tony!”
Tony whipped his head up from where he was securing his saddle on his horse and barely saw the tiny terrors before they barreled into him. His arms instinctually circled the two boys, smiling as he ruffled the darker hair that was closer to him. He knelt so he could be on their level more.
“Little Parasites!” He drew back to get a good look at them. They’d grown since the last he’d seen them. Robb’s hair was a darker red than his mother’s, his eyes Tully blue and mischievous. Jon’s dark hair had grown out into a riot of curls, and there was a solemnity to his eyes that was all Stark, the poor boy. Tony was almost taken by surprise at the fierce affection that arose in him at seeing the two again. He didn’t plan on having any kids of his own, which was probably good because he couldn’t imagine loving any kid more than he did his two nephews.
“Father says you’re late,” Robb declared, and Tony reached forward to ruffle his hair too, because he could. Robb pulled back with a fierce scowl, and Tony laughed.
“Needed a bit more time to finish up your gifts.” Tony could still feel the sting from the burn of his arm that rushing through the last step had gotten him. Metalworking required patience, something Tony didn’t always have a lot of, especially when he was eager to make it before his nephews name day feast.
Robb’s eyes lit up. He had always been pretty quick. “You made Jon a gift too!”
Jon’s eyes widened, and Tony rose to his feet with a grin “Well of course I did, what kind of uncle would I be if I played favorites?”
“The kind that has favorites.”
Tony directed his grin to the rather strapping blonde knight that exited the stables where he had left his own horse, a tightly wrapped bundle tucked under his arm. He handed it to Tony, reaching for the reins of Tony’s horse.
“Well, yeah.” Tony bit down the urge to press a kiss to that infuriating jaw. “How many siblings do you have now?” He turned back to Robb, who was looking up at Steve in awe.
Seeing the way his brother was flushing in embarrassment, Jon offered, “Lady Stark had another boy, so four now.”
“Five,” Steve corrected, hanging the reigns of Tony’s horse off to a stable hand that had come up quietly behind them.
Robb’s awe at Steve seemed to grow as he threw an arm around Jon’s shoulders and reaffirmed, “Five now.”
Tony whistled sharply, breaking the mood. “Way to go, Ned!” He knelt to unwrap the bundle Steve had handled him and watched intently as both boys’ eyes widened at the reveal. He separated the two swords and handed one to Robb, hilt first. He handed the other to Jon and watched as both boys struggled to hold them, the weight still too much for their smaller frames.
The swords had been made for grown men, and it would still take a few years for the boys to grow into them.
“Uncle Tony I can’t –” Jon sounded mournful.
“You will.” Tony’s voice was sharp. “You’re my nephew, I can give you whatever I want to give you.”
“This is Valyrian steel,” Robb remarked, tracing the body of the wolf that wrapped around the hilt of his sword, leaning the sword against the ground so the weight was a bit more manageable.
“Where did you get Valyrian steel, brother?” An arm clasped his, and Tony turned to his brother Ned, watching the way he studied both blades. While Tony didn’t doubt he’d approve of the gift to the boys, he doubted he’d be pleased once he looked a bit closer.
Tony cared very little.
“You know me.” Tony leaned against his brother’s side, still having missed the familiar presence he had grown up with. “I find all sorts of things on my travels.”
The boys were showing each other their swords, and Ned’s eyes narrowed “Tony –” his voice was sharp, a warning.
“Look, there’s a dragon with my wolf.” Jon was pointing excitedly to Robb at the tip of the wing stretching out beside the head of his wolf. Robb was returning his smile was they both admired the swords.
“Seemed appropriate,” Tony muttered unabashedly. “Since Jon is such a big fan of the old Targaryen stories.”
Steve snorted beside him, and Tony let his grin grow as he directed it at his brother. Ned deflated, knowing he wouldn’t win here. “Go put your swords up in your rooms, boys, and wash up for dinner, you can show your sisters later,” he ordered before the boys could argue.
They grumbled but darted forward to each hug their uncle before racing off side by side, their newly presented swords trailing on the ground beside them as they went.
After the boys had left, Tony let Ned pull him into a real hug, finally greeting the brother he’d been parted from these past few years. Ned held his head against him before pulling back, arms still clasped together as he studied his younger brother.
“You have more scars.” His eyes followed the thin, spider-like white lines that peeked out from Tony’s shirt before giving Steve a hard look.
“He doesn’t listen to me.” Steve sounded fondly exasperated, and Ned huffed, knowing his brother.
“I’ll have you know Ser Steve is a buzzkill, Ned.” Tony pulled away from his brother to bump his hips up against Steve. “Never lets me have any fun.”
“Yes,” Steve’s voice was dry, “because crawling down into a cave in the side of a cliff looking for dragon eggs is fun.”
Ned’s eyebrows raised. “Did you find any?”
Tony just grinned again as he took his brother’s arm and started walking them back to the home he had left long ago. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He felt Steve fall into step beside him, and something in his chest settled, hackles lowering as the sights and sounds of Winterfell surrounded him.
“Anthony Stark, I better not find a dragon’s egg in Jon’s room.”
Tony just laughed and let joy fill him at being surrounded by his pack once more.