A/N: So, this is kinda, sorta... not really my first time writing a fanfiction. I've always dabbled with writing over the years and aside from a wickedly old Harry Potter fanfiction (Which was shortly deleted after rereading...) I've never shared my stories past my closest friends. Until now. This story is AU. Love it or hate it, leave a review. I know this chapter is short and it might be confusing leaving off where I did. But I swears it! The details will sort themselves out over time. I'm lucky to have my best friend IRL be my Beta! Shout out to Alyth3cat! But, alas we are but human. Mistakes occur here and there. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy.


Chapter 1

As Clarity's conscious slowly emerged from the grasp of her drunken slumber, a resounding drum could be heard in the distance.

Fuck, I drank too much last night.

She was oddly proud of herself, though. Despite her drunken stupor, she had successfully managed to put on her eye mask before crawling into bed. She slid the fuzzy fabric up her to forehead and cracked one hazel eye open to check the time. Then immediately pulled the flimsy fabric back down, hissing sharply at the bright beam of light that had found its way through the gap in her black out curtains. Every inch of her body ached and there was a dull throb in her temples. Groaning, she plopped back against her pillows. What would a little more sleep hurt?

There was that annoying drumming noise, again.

"What the fuck," her voice broke sleepily. She lazily brought one of her fluffy pillows around her head trying to drown out the incessant noise. It didn't help much and sleep continued to elude her. It didn't take long for the pounding in her temples to subside and now she could hear what sounded vaguely like agitated shouting in the hallway. Jesus Fucking Christ, people.

Annoyed now that there was something to blame for her interrupted recovery, Clarity angrily untangled the sheet from her legs and heaved her down comforter off the bed with a huff. Being clad in nothing but an old t-shirt and panties wasn't going to stop her from giving these fuckers a piece of her mind. Did common courtesy even exist anymore!

As the voices grew louder, with each step, so did her irritation. Reaffirming that these inconsiderate twat waffles were going to get a verbal lashing like never before. As she stomped through her living room it became apparent that the unrelenting drumming was someone pounding on her front door and the shouting seemed to be just beyond the threshold of her home. What the fuck?

She opened the door ready to deliver these bastards a piece of her mind only to be left speechless. Her brother, Jameson, was there with his head turned slightly away from her. He had yet to noticed the now open door. His face was red and spittle was flying from his mouth as he shouted at Martha Ann, the older lady that lived across the hall. The older woman paused mid-scolding, her waving finger paused upon Clarity's appearance.

"What the flying fuck is going on?" Clarity shouted over them. Finally, Jameson turned towards her and if Clarity wasn't mistaken it looked like he had been in a fight. His lip was split and there was a distinct red mark across his cheek that looked as if someone had socked him good. Martha Ann just stared at her. Clarity could feel her wide, judgey eyes scouring over her body. Clutching her grey tabby tighter to her chest, she stuttered over her words.

"We need to talk, Clare. Now," Jay grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her back into her apartment before Martha Ann even had a chance to collect herself and respond. He slammed the heavy door on poor Martha Ann and Clarity knew she'd have some explaining to do after her brother left. Maybe even some groveling. Her brother instantly began pacing the narrow entrance way, "Somethings happened."

"What's wrong with you? Did you really have to yell at Martha like that? You know, I really like where I live, Jay. It took me six months to get in to this place," Clarity scolded and Jameson scoffed sharply.

"We have a bit of an emergency on the home front, Clare. I don't give a fuck what your nosey ass, hoity-toity neighbor thinks," He paced back and forth in the narrow entrance, his imposing six-foot frame filling the space. Clarity noticed his hands were shaking and she knew that something must be seriously wrong. Jameson never acted so recklessly and he never would have been so rude to poor Martha Ann. It took a lot to unsettle her calm and sensible younger brother who considers manners and decorum a way of life.

"What the fuck is going on?" She stopped him from walking by her again, gently placing her hand on his forearm. Jameson stopped and looked at his feet, he seemed to be struggling with what to say. She tenderly pressed on, "Hey, talk to me. What's happened, Jay?"

"It's happening again. They're going to throw her out. Just like you. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't understand the repercussions. Now… Now she's just locked herself up in her room. She won't come out. I can hear her crying, she's hysterical, but she pushed her dresser in front of the door and I can't get through. She has to send him back. Mom and Dad get home tomorrow, he has to be gone by then. But, she won't come out," Jay spewed and let out a frustrated growl. Clare could feel him shaking and the fear twisting in her own gut as she pieced together his words. Fuck. Jay took a deep breath and wiped his face with unsure hands.

Without further explanation, Clarity knew. She knew exactly what had happened. Annalise, her younger sister, had used her bloodline's gift to jump into a book. A fictional book. Which was against the rules. Her family, as one of the last living lines of the fabled Saltador, had a secret gift. A gift to salto; to jump. To defy the laws of modern man and with a simple touch to a page, and precise focus, jump through time.

"Which book did she pull someone from?" Clare asked quietly.

"Game of Thrones," Jay replied solemnly.

Well, shit…

To be Continued…