Fingers laced tightly in her lap, Mira Forrester sat gazing out the small window that illuminated the space she had called home for the past year. Her eyes rolled from the scenic view to the sealed letter in front of her. The Forrester sigil stamped firmly in the cooled wax, a symbol that once brought strength now had Mira teetering on the edge of tears.
She had heard accounts of the Red Wedding. The brutality of which had Sera gasping behind a raised hand as she looped arms with her dear friend in order to pull her away.
"Please. You do not need to do this to yourself." Sera had begged as she tugged Mira away from the conversation and down the hall when the news was first announced.
"I must know for myself," Mira stated shakily, her usual calm exterior chipping under the weight of possibilities.
The encounter took place earlier that week and each hour that ticked away had Mira sinking further into a state of distress. While she may be a handmaiden, Mira was well acquainted with the harshness of reality. Perhaps King's Landing had made her soft, where hate was hidden with smiles rather than knives in the dark.
Mira traced the crinkled edge of the letter as if afraid it would lunge at the slightest provocation. Just as nails cut to the quick with worry made to break the seal, the door's latch sounded announcing the presence of an intruder.
Mira whipped around and stood up quickly to fix her gown and smooth down any fly aways. She was quite sure she looked a right mess and honestly a visit was the last thing she expected after Lady Margaery sent her to her room for the rest of the day with only the letter as company.
"Oh...pardon me." The coal boy whom she had seen passing glimpses of, stood awkwardly before her with a bucket under his arm. He bowed his head and looked back out the hallway, unsure if he should just leave and attend to the next room.
Mira attempted to plaster a smile on her face but it came out rather teary before she wilted into her chair to poke once more at the folded parchment.
The coal boy hesitated before closing the door behind him and kneeling next to the hearth. He felt as if he walked in on something no one was meant to see, it was the same kind of nauseous feeling he had when he walked in on a couple romping in the stables.
This was private.
He stacked the coal quickly in the fireplace and then made a quick glance at the silhouette still bent over the small desk. The day was waning and soon the room would succumb to the night, but she made no move to light the candles. The teenager rubbed the back of his neck in thought, before turning back to the small firepit. With a few practiced movements, he lit the fire and plucked a candle from a nearby shelf in order to brighten the room. He tiptoed quietly, not wanting to disturb the young lady and her inner turmoil. As each candle sparked to life, he sat the candle gently on the desk next to her. Backing up carefully, he grasped the now empty bucket and scurried to the door, not wanting to be late.
"Excuse me?" The voice had the teen stumbling over himself completely caught off guard.
"Yes, Lady Mira?"
"I have seen you around King's Landing and while my memory is usually sharp, I can not recall your name." Mira turned in her chair to look back at him.
"My name is Tom, My Lady." He replied shakily.
Why was she paying attention to him?
They usually ignored him and on the off chance he did garner attention it was not the sort of interest that would prove well for his health. But Lady Mira never seemed to be cut from that cloth. Tom admitted to himself that he may have sought her out on multiple occasions but only because she was unpredictable and unusual especially for a handmaiden. She was kind and loyal, but also spirited and would often speak her mind even if it resulted in an unhappy Lady Margaery.
"Well then, I appreciate your help. I appear to have let time pass me by today." Mira offered a small smile at the corner of her mouth before shaking her head apologetically. "I must look horrendous and for that I am sorry."
At that moment, Tom felt he was toeing the edge of The Wall.
She sat, back slumped in what surely would be a unladylike posture with once pinned curls framing her tired face, a lone finger traced the grain of the chair nervously. To Tom's eyes, it was perhaps the most scandalous thing he had witnessed, a lady of refinement so unabashedly human that he felt all words extinguish in the back of his throat. Which was probably all for the best because surely Tom would have embarrassed himself the moment a syllable left his chapped lips.
With only a bow of his head and smile, Tom practically ran out the door making sure to latch it tightly before hurrying down the hall. Each step he took, the teenager mentally cursed himself for acting so immature and reminded himself that she would have said the same to any other coal boy.
Once the door snapped shut Mira stared at the parchment before snatching it up and peeling the wax open. With wax smudged fingers she smoothed the parchment on her desk and peered at the words.
She silently mouthed the content over and over.
They were alive.
Rodrik may not walk again and her father had completely lost the use of his sword arm but they were alive. Mira jumped up and clutched the letter to her chest, she shifted her weight and wondered if Sera was still awake. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and flushed at the image before her. She was a mess. Hair unruly and tangled and the faint kohl around her eyes had smudged down her cheeks.
Her mother would be disgraced if she saw her. Laying the letter carefully on the desk she strode to the water basin to scrub her face clean. Once bare she brushed her hair free of tangles and braided it flat down her back. To think she allowed someone to see her in such a state had Mira ashamed of her lack of restraint. She would apologize to Tom tomorrow she decided as she unlaced her dress and pulled on her nightgown.
She blew out each candle leaving the only light source as the dimming fireplace. Content for the first time in a week, Mira laid down to succumb to much-needed sleep.
"That is wonderful news, Mira." Sera practically squealed before looking down the hall embarrassed. She continued in a softer voice. "Lady Margaery will be pleased to hear your family is doing well Mira. Have you told her yet?"
"Not yet, I wanted to tell you last night but I was afraid you were already asleep." Mira chuckled and walked along with her friend to Margaery's chamber. "Any news from yesterday? I was curious how your day went."
Sera sighed and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It was the usual meetings, Margaery is still having discourse with Cersei and I do not wish to presume...but I have a feeling things are not going well with King Joffrey." Sera knocked lightly on Margaery's door, straightening her posture and gliding into the room with poise.
Mira smoothed out the front of her dress and made to follow Sera but caught a glimpse of someone coming down the stairs.
"Tom?" Mira called effectively startling Tom and causing him to drop the bucket he was carrying.
"Lady Mira.." Tom bowed his head before crouching down to retrieve the soot-covered rocks.
"It is nice to see you once again." She commented before kneeling down and picking up the fallen coal.
"Lady Mira, please. You will stain your hands and if someone were to see you helping me it would damage your standing. Rumors can be started over a cough." Tom gathered the remaining pieces and heaved up the bucket before catching sight of Mira's blackened finger tips.
He bit the inside of his cheek roughly before setting the bucket down and gestured to her hands. "May I'?"
Mira hesitated before offering her hands which Tom quickly grabbed and rubbed her palms against the cloth of his shirt.
"I apologize that it is not cleaner, Lady Mira. But this is all I have at my disposal." Tom grinned worriedly as he kept glancing down the hall as if he expected a guard to snatch him up by his collar any minute. "I do believe your friend will wonder what is keeping you, so I would hurry if I were you, My Lady." Tom released her hands once he was satisfied with their appearance and gestured with his head toward the doorway before turning on his heel and heading back up the stairs.
Mira picked at the leftover soot beneath her nails and with a sigh she headed inside to tell Margaery the news.
"That was an understatement Sera," Mira commented idly as they headed back to their quarters. "her gown was completely torn to shreds." She whispered beneath her hand.
The other handmaiden nodded and crossed her arms across her chest. "How could a husband treat his wife so poorly?" Sera wondered out loud before pausing at her door.
"Mira, has anyone caught your eye while here? We are of age, and surely we will not be under service much longer."
The question surprised the taller girl and she shook her head. "I have not been looking Sera. You know I have been too worried about my family to even begin to think of starting one of my own."
"Hmmm. While you may not be looking there have been plenty of eyes looking at you, though. Lord Morgryn for example." Sera snickered before swiftly entering her room leaving Mira alone in the hallway.
"Lord Morgryn?" Mira rolled her eyes and continued strolling down the hallway. "He is far too pompous to be anyone's husband let alone mine." She laughed at the thought of being betrothed, in fact, Mira never envisioned herself as the type of woman who would marry. Sera was constantly planning her wedding even though she has yet to be engaged while Mira, on the other hand, could not even picture herself in her mother's wedding gown.
Speaking of gowns, Mira gazed at her current ensemble and frowned. She recently had a growth spurt and her current floor length dress was reaching the ever dangerous ankle level. Perhaps she still had coin from the last package mother sent.
Entering her room she dug inside the bottom drawer of her desk to pull out a small tanned pouch. Embroidered on the pouch was a shaky M which was Mira's first attempt at needlework, and an embarrassing one at that but the memory of much simpler times brought a smile to the young woman's face.
She tucked the pouch into the inner pocket of her vested corset. It took some finesse to be successful but she would much rather struggle to retrieve the coins than have them lifted from her person in the streets.
Satisfied with her appearance, Mira made her way out of the quarters and into the market center where she was hopeful to find a well-priced deal. Usually, women would flock to tailors to have a custom gown created in order to garner attention from suitors and jealousy from those less fortunate, but Mira had always been a practical girl. She sought out a bargain and while the dress may be far too large or of an odd shape, she was always capable of fitting and tailoring it to her form in ways that would highlight her features and give the appearance of trained dressmakers rather than a Northern girl cutting a stitching haphazardly in her room.
As always the markets were packed and Mira carefully weaved in between the crowd to peek at the wares each stall was offering. More than likely it was just small trinkets and bobbles here and there. Nothing really caught her interest so she casually wandered in the mid-day heat, reaching the end of the stalls she sighed and wiped at the back of her neck in an attempt to will away the sweat threatening to drip down her collar. At this point, Mira was ready to put an end to her adventure and head back for a soothing bath. Stopping at a confectionary stand, Mira purchased a small box of caramel nuts. She figured if she was going to spend the rest of the night pampering herself she might as well treat herself while she is at it.
Deciding against backtracking, Mira chose to pass the royal stables to check in on the old mares. She often stayed away from the stables because it was often whispered that nefarious activities took place not only at the stables but in the royal kitchens as well. Shrugging off the nagging feeling at the back of her head, she continued onward until she reached the building.
Walking through the open gates, the smell of moist hay and dust filled her sinuses and Mira sighed happily. She missed the mud and the woods and while a stable was not the nicest place to be reminded of home, she could not prevent a smile from blooming across her cheeks as she ran her hand along the doors of each pin.
In the far corner, a foal whinnied and it's mother stamped on the ground loudly, cautious of the unfamiliar face. Unfazed, Mira left the mew mother alone and instead spied a ladder to the hay loft. Ignoring her inner 'lady', she decided that her sweets would taste far richer if she were laying down. She ascended the ladder and flopped down into the musty hay, setting the box beside her, she stretched out her arms and groaned happily as she felt a muscle pop in her back. Staring up at the hole filled roof she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes in the straw strewn across the loft.
The moment of serene silence was broken by a rustle behind her, not daring to look back she froze and laid there read to sternly scolded but was pleasantly surprised by the dirt smudged face that appeared above her.
"Lady?" Tom stared at her in disbelief before scurrying away and giving her space. Mira sat up and picked the straw from her hair, taken aback slightly but smiling all the same.
"Tom, nice to see you again on such short notice." She commented as she continued to fuss with her hair.
"And you as well, Lady Mira. May I ask what you are doing in such a place?" Tom sat on a nearby bail of straw, elbows firmly planted on his knees as he tried to make sense of the situation.
"No."
Tom blinked in shock and gave Mira a worried look before sighing and rubbing a hand down his face effectively smearing dirt across his face. "Very well, Lady Mira.." He trailed off unsure of what to say next.
The handmaiden picked up her purchase and offered it out to the coal boy.
"Want one?"