Alayne
It could not have been a finer day. The weather was tolerable for being so near winter. The sky was blue with enormous white clouds lumbering slowly across the sky. A guard was assembled in the main bailey, twenty men dressed in chainmail with brown tunics emblazoned with a large wolf. All waited for their king to move south. For war. The same wolf flapped in the wind on banners secured atop the six spires and two more atop the gatehouse. Jon wore a similar tunic, only with the wolf smaller and over his left breast. His tunic was held tight by a belt made of leather.
The sun rose far above the horizon over winterfell as Jon ascended the stairs, up towards his room. There she waited for him, his love, his queen. Closing the distance to the door, the familiar sensation filled his heart as he opened the door to find her in his room. Jon's heart stopped for a moment in time. She stood on the balcony eclipsing the rising sun. A thin white gown flowed with her like locks of air as she stood in the breeze. Her skin was milky white and her hair dark brown on the top of her head gently flowing down her back. He looked at her untidy brown curls splayed. The gown beautiful as her long hair rested at her shoulders. There she stood in her beautiful glory staring into the brightness. Jon took a few paces to reach her, approaching her slowly.
She was aware of his presence but stood still, waiting for him. Jon's arms steadily wrapped close around her torso, as nothing gave her the warmth as he did, her husband and love. His scent still imbedded. Alayne looked back, emerald eyes looked back at him, taking stock of him as well. He could feel the scanning his body. Those emerald eyes kept him hypnotized the entire way through. A bastard like himself of Petyr baelish but now a lady of Winterfell, a queen.
Staring in her eyes he could see a hunger, a hunger he knew. She bit her lip her eyes a haze. He caught her smile out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were on his, soft love had replaced the fiery passion. Dimples formed on her cheeks as her smile grew. The dim light from the dying embers in the hearth gave her a serenity that warmed him greatly. It was these moments he cherished, when their desires were sated and all that was left was a blanket of love. Without a word Sansa threaded her fingers in his hair, running her fingers through his long hair. Jon Snow looked at her, his mouth open, his eyes wide and dark. Without thought she leaned forward her lips pressed tenderly to his and kisses him. Her supple lips felt hot to his. That same light filled her and let the ecstasy take it's grasp. It made them both dizzy in all the right ways. Every time they kiss he felt a want burst deep down. The kiss deepened, she felt his hands caressed her, moving down her body. Kissed her fiercely with passion that Sansa had experienced with her husband.
After a minute, leaning back she smiled sheepishly. He wanted to keep this feeling and let it progress but he was late as it was and knew he must state the bad news.
She turned back pressing her back against him as he kept his arms wrapped around her closely, leaning forward kissing her lightly on the cheek.
"I'm heading south, for war." He finally told with an ache. She knew this was coming, discerned it for some time and noticed his composure changed with a frown.
"I know. You shouldn't leave Jon, let Ser Davos lead the army. I can't lose you. You must remain here, with your queen."
"You know I can't. I have a war to fight. I can't sit back as my men fight and die for me." She knew this as well. "While I'm gone, you will rule over the north." She frowned and stared down at the floor.
There was something subtle in her eyes he could just catch. A haze of confusion. "Alayne what is it? What's wrong my love?" he asked affectionately.
She let a moment pass in silence selecting her options. It was always easy to speak with him, like they were alike in some strange way. She looked back stared into his blue eyes, concern, and love all in them. "I'm not sure⦠I had a dream... a dream that I knew you when I was just a girl." The images flutter through her mind hard to catch and worse to grasp. "But whenever we were together, I called you?-"
"What?" he asked his arms still wrapped around her.
"Half-brother." She explained looking up to him.
Jon was to confused to respond. "Half brother?" He knew only one girl to ever utter that to him. A girl he had not perceived in some time. Permanently with a spite he couldn't care for once, a girl whom would rip out his hair at the slightest look. Unknown to him that very same girl was the girl beside him now, the girl he loved. He shook these thoughts from his mind.
"It was just a dream." He assured and she nodded.
"It's only, it keeps playing in my head over and over. I want to desperately rip my head apart." She felt her mind falling into an abyss. His hand wrapped reassuringly around her shoulders.
"I can send for the master." She shook her head.
"No I'm only-Before she had the chance to answer at an instant, abruptly the room disappeared, the images whirled before her vision, originated back to her. All the information flowed around her and straight through her until she was wallowing in information like a white river of flame that cursed through her. For a brief moment instead of her life filled husband before her, she stared at him blinking. No longer in the room of winterfell but a lone forest. Snow rested on the ground as a light flurry blew. Before her a lone boy was kneeling in the snow. With short messy hair wearing dark black leather. She gazed over him as pressed snow together in his hands making a snow castle. Coming closer the snow crunched under her feet and he turned back to find her. He stared at her, one of his eyes was dark and swollen as something had hit him hard in the face.
She saw his eyes were not kind. "What do you want?" The boy asked with a malice. Alayne looked back to find no one but herself, in the lone forest the boy speaking to her.
"What? Sansa?" He repeated annoyed standing from the snow. It was the name she heard more than once as the boy always called her this or sister.
"I'm sorry, I'm lost. Can you tell me where am I?" the boy simply looked at her as if she was foolish.
"You're in Winterfell sister." He voiced like it was plain as day to know. "Are you alright?" the young boy asked. The moment he said this thoughts went bursting through her mind. she needed to take a full step back as she lost her footing. Hands pressed hard to her head trying to find herself. Images of her husband occupied her mind but not as he is, but was. He stood much younger in Winterfell with a red headed girl. They stared at the other filled with intent and hate.
"No. My head feels like its bursting, I can't. I can't think straight for a single second." She declared eyes closing, gritting her teeth. She wanted to scream, with agony coursing through her head. Her mind was aching worse, waves of pain rushed through her needles through her. Again the world spun as it had done so many times. Why every time she tried to remember it swirled further away. The images spellbinding flutter playing all at once and not at all. The feeling like her head was splitting in two.
Until her thoughts melded and she could think clear. Her eyes blinked several times aware of her surroundings. Senses coming back all at once as a surge. Each moment she felt her mind piece together until coming to the familiar small room of hers and Jon's, impending before her eyes. First she felt a soft bed under her body then a hand gripping hers. A hand she knew. The cloud faded and she found her husband hand grasped around hers tightly as she was laying on her bed beside him. Her eyes turned to him, seeing a look of panic apparent. She tried to speak but words failed her. Jon sat close as he barked orders.
"Get the maester."
"My Grace I sent for him." Ser Davos said.
"Get him now!" He yelled, Ser Davos turned with haste running.
Jon. She finally whispered.
He turned his head to hers a smile forming. "You're awake." She could see the joy lighten on his face. "Are you okay my love?"
The images were still ghosted over her vision, an unwelcome nightmare she wanted to rip from her mind. To scrape the image and dissolve. The pictures were more invasive than the brief flashes.
Several months prior-
Petyr stood in the small stuffy room with a small oak table resting in the middle. A mix of unknown colorful potions and bottles covered it. Smoke wafted in the air in a constant haze. A light smell in corner where peter couldn't say. The crackling of a fire the remaining noise as the short man moved back and forth before him. His clear blonde hair was bright compared to his emotionless face. His legs taking him were he needed. All the while Petyr stood patiently waiting with a grimes the man took his time.
"Are you sure this works?" Petyr asked as he picked up and spun the small two inch dark colored bottle before him between his fingers. A small bottle with a clear liquid swirled inside.
"Yes, yes. It is the finest. They will fail to recall all memories, family friends and so on, and so forth. Any new thoughts will not be impaired." Petyr raised an eyebrow.
"Will their be any lasting damage." He asked not requiring to destroy the girl's mind. The short man shook his head.
"Only the memories my lord. The memories." Petyr's eyes remained on the liquid a smile forming.
"Then you have done well, my friend. You will be paid handsomely." Petyr smiled brightly with a light turning to the small man.
"You're most gracious." The man told.
"What about the face." He asked not waiting, causing the short man to smirk brightly. Turning he pulled the box open causing dust particles to waft through the air and in laid a lone face.
"I Have it right here." he pulled it and placed it on display. Petyr grinned so wide spreading across his face.
"Yes, yes. this will do well. Paid a pretty penny for this the faceless men couldn't refuse. All men have a price, even them." Peter closed the distance his eyes staring into the soft face of a woman.
As the young bastard Jon Snow acquired the north had caused a major setback. But with a new problem comes another solution. With his eyes still on the face, he knew just the perfect solution. Needless to say requiring someone on this bastard, having not met him once nor knowing much about him, he required someone whom he could place his trust. Someone who would find knowledge about this bastard.
Out of the tiny smoke filled room he dusted himself off, not a speck on him and went. The steps lingered as he carefully closed the distance through the lone halls of the vale towards the girl's room. Standing straight before the door he poured a cup of wine. Twisting the small bottle with a pop then tipping it over the glass, the liquid pouring methodically, he tilted it and tapped as the contents poured into the wine, mixing together. Without a knock he came into the room. Inside he found where Sansa sat alone on the bed. The sun glared in through the large windows on the opposite of the room giving her fiery hair a glow. She wore a blue gown with her hair parted and looked up with a smile. Petyr returned it with a beam.
"Good evening. I dare say I have kept you in here for to long. So I have a present, I have brought the finest wine in all realms. Every man and woman would claw for just a taste of this. A single drop of it will cause your taste buds to flourish with delight." He alleged holding a clear glass of dark red wine, all to sure to keep his body calm.
She gently wrapped her fingers and took hold of the glass. "Thank you." Sansa stirred herself as she held the cup, sitting straight on the edge of the bed. She needed her questions answered. Solitude had accumulated for almost days now. Alone in this room, she had to ask. "What are we to do here?" she enquired. The instant she said this he frowned.
"You should drink up then we can speak on our undertakings." Sansa stared at him then nodded titling back the wine poring back the cup down her thought the contents down. She looked back to him waiting for a answer that would never come. Watching, her eyes lingered on him. For a moment in time he smiled brightly, abruptly she felt woozy the world spun around her unclear for thoughts. Her mind closed and she fell to the bed.
Hours later her mind felt strange awaking to what felt like the first time. Her eyes creep open to a room looking up she found a man sitting in a chair beside her a look of concern.
"My sweet daughter Alayne you have finally awoken from your coma."
