Author's Note: And here's another chapter. I hope I didn't disappoint. It is rather short since there are many things I am still deciding on, but here is some bonding between them and some of Amara's background that is sure to effect things later on.
He was a patient man. At least Jon considered himself so, but it shouldn't take this long to draw a bath, should it? No, it definitely shouldn't. It hadn't really made sense why she had taken this long. His hands rested on his lap, his eyes closed as he rested his back on the wall since this bed was without a headboard. It was just a simple cot, he was used to such bedding at the Night's Watch. At least this bed was much more comfortable than the rugged ones at the Wall. Everything led his thoughts to it, wondering if he was still the Lord Commander since his brothers committed a mutiny. How would they feel to see him alive and walking? Well, he couldn't walk now but if he had gone back, he would be able to. The look on their faces would be worth more than what gold dragons could buy.
His concentration broke once the terrible smell that came off the pillows and sheets filled his nose. They would need to be washed and he couldn't help but feel guilty for giving the healer more work to do after she had saved his life. If he could, he'd help lessen the chores, but he could barely stand for a good half a minute. He would just be a nuisance, tumbling to the floor and having her repeatedly help him to his feet like a child learning to walk for the first time. It was embarrassing to be in this condition, but it was a good thing that she was patient and did not mind doing these kind of things. Of course, Jon was sure that her patience would run out eventually, he could see the temper in her despite how much she was trying to keep herself composed. There was more to her than she was letting on, but he knew he wouldn't figure her out all at once.
There were other things he had to think about anyway. He had to know what Melisandre had done to him; the lengths she had gone to stray him away from death or revive him from it. He was sure he died. He knew he had. Jon also had to figure out what he had to do regarding the Night's Watch. There were many things that he should be thinking about instead of who this woman was and what was she like. It must've been because it had been so long since he seen another woman and it was his natural instinct to be intrigued by her. He was a man that was attracted to women, and the woman was not the conventional beauty that would have the Highborns falling to their knees. Her beauty was mysterious and dark, which was enough to intrigue anyone with seeing eyes.
Still, no other woman could move him as his heart still belonged to Ygritte. It was because of her that his physical temptation was sliced by the sharpness of Ygritte's arrow of devotion upon the sight of the Red Woman's breasts and invitation before him. Even though, as the Red Woman said, Ygritte was dead and the dead do not need lovers, his heart wouldn't allow him to touch no other woman. Maybe it was Ygritte spirit cursing him from moving on. Jon felt he deserved that karma; Ygritte's vengeance. After all, he allowed her to die. He'd never forgive himself for that even though the odds were never in their favor. They were never meant to be; a bastard Crow and a free-spirited Wildling girl.
"Snow." His eyes immediately glanced up at the healer, who stood before him with her fingers laced together. The look on her face reminded him of a little girl, like before, who seemed rather uncomfortable in front of an adult. She could create the most innocent, childish expressions at times, which always made him smile. How many namedays was she to be able to make her eyes look big and unknowing or her plump lips to form pouts and frowns that made her more appealing to the eyes. She could easily sway any man if she used it for personal gain.
"Yes, Miss Amara?" He said, never letting his eyes leave her face as she lowered her eyes to the wooden floors.
"I am unable to draw you a proper bath." It sounded like she struggled to say it. And she made no attempt to look him in the eyes, possibly embarrassed. "But I do know of a spring of hot water, if that's better."
It was better than nothing but how could he possibly get there?
Jon gave her a curious stare, watching as she kept her eyes at the floor. He was amused by this sudden shyness since she had never displayed such an act or this exact face before. He dubbed her as blunt since she spoke so freely without hesitation during their last talk. But yes, she was very much like a child at times. "There is nothing wrong with a spring." He said, "But I'm afraid I won't be able to get there."
"I'll help you there and leave you to bathe." Amara simply put it, not seeing why it would be difficult to do that. She finally mustered the courage to look at him, her head cocking in a rather arrogant angle. "My horse will do what your legs cannot."
He paused. Was she insulting him? His brow quirked as she wore a rather triumphant smirk but then extended her rather small hand to him. His eyes stared at her palm, purposely to leave her waiting. If she wanted to insult him, he would press a button or two. It wasn't like he was serious, he enjoyed being able to play. It had been such a long time since he had been able to. His eyes then tore themselves away from her palm to see her rather irritated face. The grin he fought to not expose made itself known and he was given a rather scary glare. His hand grabbed onto hers, lifting himself to his feet.
"I did not find that funny." Amara quipped as he tried to lessen his weight on her and focused his eyes on his feet.
"I didn't find what you said funny either." He replied, "But an eye for an eye."
"I didn't know you live by such a frivolous code." She said, "I thought you were honorable."
Jon's dark eyes looked at her but she steadied her gaze ahead as they walked towards the black Stallion that was eating whatever traces of grass it could find. His eyes could finally roam around this place and his stomach nearly turned as he remembered exactly where this place was. This was the village that the Wildlings destroyed and ripped that boy, Ollie, of his family and home. Life sure did have a funny way of throwing these kind of things back at him.
"I don't live by that. I've taken vows to not be that way but since I… died, I don't have to live them anymore." It was true. He was sure he died but the Red Woman brought him back. He was free. Free of the vows he made, free to take the heads of Walder Frey and Roose Bolton, free to go back and reclaim Winterfell, free to take a wife and have children. He was free to do anything he ever wanted and more, but he couldn't help but think that was the coward's way. That he would just be running away from his problems that he swore to handle. He could add wood to his anger's flame and allow the Night's Watch to fend for themselves against the great threat ahead of them, but he had already invested so much. And he had many people to protect by protecting the wall. "But I have realized something about honor…"
Her eyes glanced over to him, meeting his as they finally made it to the horse. "And what is that?"
"Honor gets you killed." His voice was rather somber, she noted. He had climbed up on the horse, helping her up and allowing her to be in front of him. Amara stared ahead, letting his words sink into her grey matter as she mindlessly grabbed the reins. "Honor is what killed my father and my brother." There was a trace of solemness in his voice, "Honor is what also killed me."
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder and at him. He met her eyes until she finally turned away and they began to ride off as she knew the way of the spring. It seemed impractical to go so far for a bath but he would rather to be in warm water than in the freezing river. It wouldn't be good for his health either and that's what she took in consideration.
When the horse's steady gallop stopped, she had climbed down and helped him as he helped her. Jon nearly tumbled a bit, legs moving rather wobbly, but the woman made sure he stayed on his feet and did not fall over. The spring was surrounded by trees and so any onlookers would have made a sound if they dared. Although, he'd like to think nobody would even care, not even the healer who already turned her back on him so he could undress. "I don't want to ask but I'll need your help."
"Help with what, Snow?" He could tell that she was toying with him from her voice alone.
"You know what I mean." Waiting, he heard the crunching of snow from her walk as she stood next to him. He already undressed himself but it was the point of walking to the spring. The situation was an uncomfortable one and he figured it was for her more than him. Here she was, leading a naked man to a spring but she was much more calm than he expected her to be. Her eyes did not look at him, letting her body do all the work. Her hands grabbed lightly onto his arm, giving it a slight squeeze to indicate she had a steady hold. Awkwardly, he was helped towards the hot water, his feet were freezing from having kicked off his socks and letting his bare feet in the crunchiness and coldness of the snow. If he wasn't careful, he was sure he would get frostbite from letting his toes sink any further into the ground.
His foot dipped in the water first, wincing as he hadn't realized just how hot in temperature the spring was. Amara slowly looked up at his face, observing his reaction. "Are you going to get in or not?"
The stare he gave her was greeted with a smirk. She found pain for him humorous, which was quite odd for a healer. What doctor finds kicks in the pain of their patients? A strange one, he thought. Maybe a mad one. Jon slowly made his descent into the water, feeling the warmth of her hands on his arm leave him as he began to wade in the water, seeing it come up to his waist. Amara was glad that the surface of the water rippled and the steam was a great help too, for it concealed the the lower half of his body from her gaze. She had picked up his Gods-awful smelling clothes and turned to look at him, "I'll be back."
Shocked, he narrowed his eyes. "Are you insane?" Jon knew she wasn't crazy enough to let him stay there, naked and unable to defend himself if someone dare come for him. Was she? Was she really all that crazy? He hoped not. He hoped for his sake that she wasn't.
Innocently, she pointed towards Longclaw that lay next to a boulder. "Your sword is right there. You can still fight."
"Amara." His voice was taut, warning her that he did not find this humorous. "Stay here."
Her brows raised, her cheeks puffed rather childishly as she looked around. She then spoke, "Why must I stay and watch you bathe?" Her eyes looking at his stony ones, "Wouldn't you want me to wash your clothes? I much prefer to."
His brow raised questioningly, "You've already brought a spare of clothing for me to wear." He said now smirking amidst her little game. "I saw you hiding them in your cloak."
Caught, her eyes widened as she bit her cheek. She wanted to watch him scramble after her, she really wanted to entertain herself with him being the fool, but he already had her trapped from moving this game further. "I never guessed you were that observant."
"After what I've seen and been through, Miss Amara, you have to be." Jon replied while smoothing the warm water over his aching torso. "And it would best if you stay close by…" He paused, "for protection, that is."
Her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned to face him and they locked eyes but Jon could see the unsteady waters of hers. They looked like a fierce ocean, the kind that made the surface look tumultuous. "Are you saying you will protect me, Jon Snow?"
"That is what I am saying." Seeing nothing wrong with his words, he wondered why she gave him that odd look in her eyes. Amara stood rather quietly and still with her eyes peering straight at him as if she would drown him. It was as if she had no intention to look away and he had no intention of doing so himself.
"And what makes you think I need it?" Jon knew not if her words came out of anger or curiosity. The tilt of her head read curiosity but the look in her eyes and rumble of her voice spoke otherwise. By no means did he mean to offend her. Was offering protection such a bad thing?
Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the water to gather his thoughts and come correct. "You're a healer. I imagine that you don't kill for a living." Was his reply as he waded in the water.
"That may be, Jon Snow," The woman brusquely said. "However, with your condition that may cause mishaps, I shall decline your help and do the protecting myself."
So she was offended. Jon eyed her with question, wondering why she seemed offended by his offer for protection. Wouldn't most people think that her hands were used for fixing than killing? Women, he dismissed it as so. Ygritte would've said the same except not so eloquently and Arya would too with much fierceness. The thought of the both of them made him smile rather sadly.
The soreness in his legs were being reduced by the hot water. He tried to mask his pain earlier and managed to keep from hobbling in front of Amara when they first left the small house. That was the most walking he had ever done in two weeks. He thought she hadn't noticed or more like he hoped she hadn't. Jon saturated his arms, feeling relieved to rid himself of the smell of sweat and sickness. There was still a stench of blood on his hair, and so he dived into the water to free himself of it.
Amara returned to letting her back face him. She didn't want to be interested in how he bathed or how he looked when soaked. What interest would she have in that? He was a man. A simple man. And she had met many men and none of them held any importance to her; naked or clothed. Speaking of which, the spare clothing Amara had hid from him, she now placed on top of the rock next to his sword, which happened to now take over her curiosity.
Lifting the weapon in her hands, her eyes studied it with intrigue. The ripples of the blade fascinated her and were nothing like the many blades of swords she had seen before. At the pommel of it was a Wolf's head, quite frightening as its teeth were bared as its form of expression was of a snarl, but she wondered what significance did it hold to him? What did wolves mean to him?
Among her tribe, the wolf was revered as a symbol of many things: manhood, courage, teamwork, and strength. In fact, only the best warriors of her tribe were honored of bearing the mark of the wolf. The only way to received the mark of it was to prove their skills in sword-fighting, archery, horseriding, and physical combat. Not only that, her father said that her people descended from the mating of a wolf with a doe, which spoke of the quiet beauty of their women and the fierceness of their men.
Looking over her shoulder, she glanced at him as he shook his curly, black hair and wiped his face to get the water from his eyes. She did not know the customs of the people of the North but if he held such a symbol then it meant that he was a warrior, a very strong one. Shifting her gaze, she could tell that he was by far too busy enjoying being clean than he would have of been while answering her questions. Questions? Why should she be curious of him? Eradicating any sense of curiosity in her mind for him, she put the sword down and looked out into the distance. Her eyes studying the large trees that surrounded the spring, finding anything that was well worth to be looked at.
Her head quickly moved towards the sound of a snap. Her eyes squinted, trying to focus on what caused the sound. Amara looked back at Jon and he looked at her, already seeing her body in rigid alertness. "Hide." Her voice was stern, brushing near the volume of quietness but being loud enough for him to hear. Inhaling deeply, he let himself sink into the spring as she covered Longclaw with snow and hid his clothes in her cloak.
A pair of men had revealed themselves a scary second after. One having stalks of wheat strapped to his back. While the other man was carrying a basket that seemed to be overflowing with what looked to be fruit. Both of them them had stopped walking upon the sight of her, the oddity of a woman in black that was a vast contrast of the white snow around them. "Are ya alright, lady?" The wheat-carrying man asked. With some thought, she found it was obvious he bought them since there was no way wheat could grow in this weather nor in the North.
Amara dipped her head in a slow nod. "Yes, I am. I was contemplating if I wanted to bathe here or not."
"We ain't gonna stop ya." The one on the right said, "Might want to watch tho."
Frowning, she fought to not keep the downward curl of her lips a second longer. Instead, she forced herself to smile, which made her eyes looked as if they smiled too due the slant shape of them. "I would rather you not but I'll take that as a compliment, kind sir."
"Are ya sure yer alright? Yer quite a long ways from a town." The man who carried wheat, she liked him better. "We can help escort ya there, if ya'd like."
Shaking her head, she kept her smile but it felt more genuine than forced this time. "I'm fine, rest assured. Thank you for worrying of me."
The wheat man nodded and gave her a light smile. "The Watch are lookin' for Jon Snow." He explained, her eyes widening somewhat but she tried to mask her expression. "I dunno what he did but ya should be careful of 'em."
"Yea," Agreed the man on the right, "lot of 'em bastards are rapers and thieves that people didn't want. Jon is, or was, a good guy but I heard he was a traitor for those damn Wildlings. Hard to believe Ned's kid would want to be part of 'em."
Amara looked towards the spring, seeing the rise of bubbles as she knew Jon was probably going to need some air soon. She couldn't let the men keep staying here but she could not hurriedly send them away. It would prove suspicious. "I see. Jon Snow, huh? I'm not from the North, so I have no idea who he is but he seems to have quite the reputation."
"Mhm." The fruit fellow nodded, chewing on a stalk of wheat that he probably took from his friend. "He is baseborn of the previous Lord of Winterfell. All of 'em Starks were loved by us, they were good people. Shame for what happened to their family. They'll probably sing songs of tragedies of 'em soon. Jon is a bastard, so, he couldn't inherit nothin'. I would've liked to see him King in the North after young Robb than the damn Roose Bolton as Warden and his mad son of his."
"A lot has gone on this year." Her hands laced together, her eyes looking down in thought. "Aren't there other Starks? I'm sure they'll rise again."
"I dunno." The man on the right shrugged his shoulders, continuing to speak. "Lady Sansa's married to that crazy bastard fuck, Ramsay Bolton, and Lady Arya's been missin' a good long time." His eyes then looked up in thought, "And those little Stark boys were burned alive. I remembered by their father's own ward, the Greyjoy."
Her eyes grew big, shocked to hear that all of this had happened. Her eyes shifted back to the spring, seeing bubbles come up much faster this time. Jon's whole family was nearly decimated with the exception of his sisters. No wonder she could see that sorrowful look in his eyes every now and then. She'd be devastated if any of her family members went through that.
"Honor killed my father and my brother."
Ah yes, he did tell her that. She remembered. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head down in a rather despondent manner. "For shame to have dealt with things like that. I give the Starks my sympathy although it won't give them much or bring them back."
"A good ol' prayer to the Gods may help their souls rest easy." The man on the left said in efforts to cheer her up. "Well, we should be on our way. Take yer bath."
Giving a slight bow, she watched them leave and followed them until they entered the thick thicket of trees. A sigh escaped her as she made her way towards the water, quickly. Jon had saw her hazy reflection from the surface and then swam up, gasping for air to quickly refill his lungs. "Who…" He panted heavily, wiping his face. "Who were they?"
Kneeling down into the snow, she looked over her shoulder to inspect the area. "Two villagers." Amara answered, "They were using this area to go through, that's all." There was a slight look of relief on his face as he gave her a slight nod. "The Night's Watch are looking for you." He looked up at her, not seemingly surprised. Jon knew they would look for him, and probably want to redo what they done to him last but made sure he stayed dead this time. "C'mon before you prune."
...
Once they made it back to that small home, Amara had used her cloak to hide his face from the travelers they had meant alongside the road. People would look at him questioningly, but he never kept eye contact with many of them for long. It felt silly to wear but it done him justice and he was grateful that she offered it to him even though she seemed reluctant to part with it. Someone must've given it to her, it held a bit of sentimental value. Who else fears to part with an item that meant nothing to them?
Knowing the Watch knew he was still alive made him wonder how long he could keep being on the run. He would have to face them soon but not while he was still weak. He wondered if that almost meant they would part ways and where she would go after taking care of him? Would she travel to the next village and heal the weak and ill? He supposed so since that was her job but he hadn't know what to think about it.
She led him back to the cot and he had sat at the edge of it before letting his face rest in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. Amara gazed at him, wondering what he had been thinking and what he was planning to do. Once he was well, what path would he take? It shouldn't have been her business but after hearing the tragic ends of the Stark men, and knowing suffering herself, would he take on a second chance to live life the way he wanted? Why was the Watch so important to him in the first place? Were there more Wildlings to be fought? "Lay down, Snow."
"I'm not tired." He replied, raising his head and letting out a sigh.
"I'm going to rub Lavender oil on your legs." She said as she walked towards the desk and pulled out a medium-sized bottle.
Confused, he raised a brow. "Why would I need Lavender oil? I don't wish to smell of it."
"Why? Do you think only women should wear these types of scents?" She asked, not bothering to look at him as she unscrewed the top and sniffed the scent to see if it was still potent.
Clearing his throat, he looked to the floor. "I think they are for girls; girls smell of flowers and other dainty things."
His reply made her hmph, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "She may smell as dainty as a rose, but she'll cut you with her thorns. Even the most pleasing things are poisonous, Jon Snow." His eyes gazed up at her as she turned to look at him. "But in this case, smelling like a girl will help ease the muscles in your legs. That way, you won't be hobbling like a one-legged pirate."
Setting his jaw, he shifted his gaze out of embarrassment. So she had seen him trying his best not to hobble. It figures. "You'll be the only one to smell me so there's no use in arguing."
"There wouldn't be much of an argument." Amara said, "I am your healer and you are still in my care. You ought to listen to me or I'll leave you in the middle of the night so you can fend for yourself with your manly scent."
Seeing him not say another word and transfix his gaze in a designated spot, she realized that she had won. He did as she told him, but he had sat up and had his legs stretched in front of him. The wariness was radiating off him but Amara dismissed it. She had taken a free pillow and placed them under his knees and knelt at the end of the bed, her hands lifted up the right pant's leg of his breeches and she could see him staring at her, following every movement she had made.
"I'm sure you've been touched by a woman before." She had raised the pant's leg of his left leg and he cleared his throat.
"I am no virgin if that's what you're asking." Jon replied as she then lathered her hands in the sweet smelling oil before using her palm to stroke his toes and to the top of his legs.
"Then realize I am not doing this out of desire for you." Amara explained as the strokes were long and her palm soft as she moved up his pale limb and down again—even going as far to lightly go over the knees, which made him shiver. "I hold no desire for you."
Jon did not know rather to think something was wrong with him. Was he ugly? Was it the scar on his face? He never bothered to care if he was considered handsome or not, but he was sure he was not ugly. It did wound his pride to hear her say that. It hurt even more than the sudden shift of pain he felt due to sensitive areas that were tense even during his bath. His body then relaxed as soon the muscles of his legs loosened.
She had performed the same technique to his right leg as she done his left. "It is not that I do not think you're a good looking man." It was as if she read his thoughts, "I just desire no man."
Her hands lifted and rested the left ankle his palm, massaging it right her right hand, one thumb on one side; fingers on the other. "Were you hurt before?"
"Hurt is such a kind word." The corner of her lips went up in a small smile, "You make it sound as if it was just a little pain." Jon was studying every moment she was doing, watching her lithe fingers do wonders. His eyes steadily gazed up back to her face and at her expression. Yes, Amara had been hurt before.
"I was betrayed by the man I loved." Amara slowed down her actions and then shifted her gaze to meet his curious eyes. "He sliced off the head of my father after promising to help him." His widened just a fraction, "I was the princess of my clan and my father made me marry that man in order to unite our clans. My husband was good to me at first, very gentle and very sweet. I was only fourteen when I married him. He harbored hatred for my father for killing his, but his father was a mad man who lusted for power. My father put an end to him even though that was his best friend."
She worked her way up his leg with her thumb and fingers, going softly over the knees but firmly on his thighs. "When he killed him, I hated him but I still loved him. I loved him very much." For a second, he thought she shed a tear but her face was dry and her eyes holding nostalgia than tears. "I even loved him when I put a spear through his heart and watched the light go out of his eyes and the color leave his face."
"But you loved your father more." Jon said and was given a nod.
"I loved him more." She repeated, "And I could not stay with a man who killed my father for such stupid vengeance. I left my brother as the leader of the tribe and left my home. I thought and promised myself I would never love again or desire no man. No matter how cold and lonely the nights were, my heart stayed with my patients. I'd pour my love into helping them and not a single person."
It reminded him of his vows for the Watch. Jon had broken them for Ygritte, thinking he had no choice. He thought he physically broken them, but he emotionally broke them too. He understood her pain and more than understood for pouring their love into their duties. Their duties mean more than loving another, and when it conflicted with him, he chose his duties despite the pain of not choosing over his lover.
"If it means anything…" Her eyes slowly gazed up at him, "I am the same."
Her eyes looked down at his legs, seeing them rather relaxed than they had been earlier. "It means a lot."
