The Regret of a Big Brother

                                    

                                          
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Jaehaerys
He reached the entrance of the crypts, and a gentle breeze flew past him, his hair flowing with the wind. His hand touched the Weirwood Door; the door had yet to be changed or decorated since it was put there. Eight thousand years ago, yet the door didn't show any sign of decaying or anything. It looked as beautiful as the day it was made; two direwolves howling at the moon were decorated in the door. 
Opening the door, it made no sound; his eyes found the only light source in the deep darkness awaiting him downstairs. Grabbing the still-burning lantern, he walked forward with heavy steps, the darkness illuminated by the light; downstairs he walked, a strange pressure engulfed him the deeper he went, and he felt cold.
At the end of the stairs were the statues of Sōna and Morghon. The oldest direwolves of House Stark. Their statues didn't do justice to their size; no book or Maester talked about them anymore, and their memories were lost with time, but people in the North often spoke of their size, some saying they were as large as a small house. King Stark had mounted his Wolf to battle in full Armour.
Walking forward, he felt the cold on his bones. He passed through the Kings of Winter. The kings of winter were looking at him.
You're no Stark.
He heard in the wind; their eyes looked almost alive, judging him for being in a place where he didn't belong. Never Would.
Soon, he found his mother's statue. As beautiful as he had imagined. Jae remembered the many times he had dreamed of her. He could almost see her face, but Jae knew she was beautiful. Now, here she is, Jae murmured under his breath. He stepped closer, putting the lantern on the ground. His purple eyes looked at hers, almost expecting them to move. "Mother," he whispered, almost waiting for a response.
In his left hand was a Winter Rose, putting it in her cold hands. He wished for her to smell them, but she did none. She was a Statue. Nothing more...
"I'm sorry for waiting so long, Mother. I'm here; we're finally together again," Jae said quietly, his voice cracking the more he spoke, his eyes welling up.
"I love you, mother, more than anything. I wish you were here with me, you would meet Ghost, Arianne, she's . . . She's lovely, and my cousin, Arya, some say, she's like you," he said with a laugh. He could almost see it: his mother hugging him, meeting Ari, wishing for them to have many beautiful and healthy children and be happy together.
"I really wanted to meet you. Despite Lady Ellaria. I always wished to have known you, to talk with you." he said, stiffing and crying. Slowly, he regained his composure and wiped away the tears with his sleeve.
His attention turned to his mother. "Muna. I will return tomorrow and bring you more flowers," he said with a sad smile, touching her hand; they felt warm.
"I heard that King Rhaegar is very good at singing; it is said that his song brought you to tears at the Tourney of Harrenhal. I would like to sing you a song as well." Jae said before clearing his throat.