He expects, at this time of night, the pools will be empty. The water was harnessed many places in the castle, especially to keep Lady Stark's room warm… But he loved this place underneath the castle, where the pools had been allowed to bubble up and break the surface. It is a good place for a bath, but generally not occupied so late at night.

So when a voice calls out, he nearly drops the bundle of cloth in his arms, he's so startled. When he realizes whose voice it is, he feels the familiar grip of panic squeezing his chest… But it's too late.

He sees her, at the edge of the nearest pool, sitting and staring at him over her shoulder.

"Oh, it is only you," she says softly. He can't read her expression through the steam, but her voice doesn't sound particularly unfriendly.

"I'm sorry," he stammers, tense and ready to flee. "I can go…"

"There is not a need for that. I am the only one being in here; there is much room for you." He can hear the polite smile now, so despite being intimidated, he edges a little closer. "I would be welcoming the company." She's turned her attention back to the water by now.

The bastard boy urges himself to be courageous as he strips down, hidden by the steam, and moves to the far side of the pool. A towel is wrapped tightly around his waist until the moment he begins to lower himself into the water, when he removes the cloth and sets it to the side of the pool.

But for all his caution, she pushes off the side and moves toward him, coming to sit at his side in the hot water. The feelings of panic haven't left him yet.

"It is quite late. I had not been thinking to see anyone down here at such hour," she says, chatting as easily now as she does when they're both clothed in the yard. He wants to scream then, make her realize how awkward he feels with them both so naked, but he doesn't. Instead, when his mouth opens, he forces himself to talk like a functioning human being.

"I couldn't sleep," he intones simply.

"I am often having trouble doing the same," she replies to that, and he forgets to keep his eyes fixed on the water. Instead he looks over at her to find her nodding solemnly, but upon realizing she's still naked, his eyes snap to the front again. She must find his modesty amusing, because she lets out a tinkle of laughter.

"They are just flesh, Jon Snow. They aren't going to hurt you," she reassures, and he turns his head away from her, cheeks dark and his head shaking incredulously. The water is disturbed after that, and he watches the ripples to calm himself.

"There. Is this better for you?"

His head turns back, afraid to look, but she's turned around so her arms are resting on the side of the pool, her head resting on her arms as she looks over at him. Around her, her red hair floats in tendrils. A nod is given and he accepts the compromise, though his eyes remain resolutely on her face.

"Why are you being unable to sleep? Is it your brother?"

Bran…

Bran had fallen some days ago, while father and Robb and Theon were out hunting with the King. They'd found him, broken with his wolf pup howling, behind one of the towers… It was the one where the boy liked to go to feed the crows.

But that is only part of what keeps him awake at night. He spends a great deal of time lying awake, thinking about what his life will be like on the Wall when he goes north with Uncle Benjen. A bastard can make a name for himself there, he's heard, and his life has been filled with stories about those intrepid men of the Night's Watch; the glory of defending the realm from the White Walkers and other horrors that inhabited the frozen wastes.

"Partly," is all he can manage to say.

"I had a brother once," came her reply to him, and he snaps out of his own mind to focus on her. Her features have a melancholic caste now, and her eyes are staring out at nothing, so he feels a little safer looking at her.

"He was my twin; he was called Ivaerion and he was much more brave than I," she speaks, almost as if she is merely remembering aloud instead of telling him about the boy. But as she speaks of Braavos and the many adventures she'd gone on with her brother, it isn't hard for Jon to picture the boy with reddish hair and a strong laugh and more skill with a sword than any child had a right to have.

"But he died of fever, and we buried him at sea. I have nightmares where his hand is reaching up to pull me into the ocean with him."

A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth and Jon's eyes soften for his friend. He's completely forgotten to feel awkward about their nakedness by now; this was hardly different than when, in younger years, Arya would run and jump into the baths with him and Robb and Theon. As he lets her have a moment to compose herself, his eyes wander almost unconsciously over her back…

Where they stop. Thick, white scars stretch across her back in bands that crossed over one another. Some look newer than others, but they all look to have some years on them. It doesn't even occur to him to keep personal space as he moves to get a closer look, his hand splaying on her back to keep her still. Her muscles coil under his fingers, startled by the sudden touch.

"How did… where did you get these?" he asks, dumbfounded, and she relaxes upon realizing she isn't under sudden attack. When he flicks his eyes from the scars to her face, he finds himself caught up in her look of deep shame and embarrassment. His fingers leave her skin and he backs away from her a little, realizing only then how much of a line he's crossed. "I'm sorry…"

"No, it is not something you are needing to apologize for," she murmurs in answer, tucking a strand of hair nervously behind her ear. She turns around then, so he can no longer see her disfigurement, but she pulls her knees to her chest to continue hiding her nakedness.

"When my brother died, my father made many attempts to turn me into Ivaerion. He hit me with a stick when I was failing at it. 'Every hurt is a lesson' he would be saying, until I was getting it correct. It was taking much time, but I finally got to the point where he was not needing to hit me anymore."

He finds her explanation so appalling that he can't stop himself; he pulls her into a hug, crushing her chest against his as he holds the stiff, startled girl. She is so much smaller than he is, though they are of an age with one another, that it is easy to think of her as a younger sibling that he is protecting.

After a few moments, the girl finally allows herself to hug him back, her face hidden in his chest as she fights down the tears that threaten. He can feel her shaking to keep calm, but he says nothing. No matter how sorry he is for her, it will do no good to say so; sorry won't take away the scars that line her back or the damage in her heart… It is just so hard for Jon to process what has happened to her.

Bastard though he might be, his father loves him, shares his home and meals with him, makes sure he is taken care of, educated and clothed. Jon hasn't lost a sibling, and aside from Catelyn's occasional, scathing, remarks, Jon feels loved by his family… It is hard to envision a family where a father could beat his only remaining child, a daughter no less, for not being a son instead.

It is a long while before, finally, Iv pulls away from him. She looks up at him with a myriad of expressions in her eyes, but when her lips part, it is the polite and proper voice once again. "Thank you," is all he receives, but he can read the rest in those eyes that once frightened him, and he gives her a half-smile in reply. The expression falls to pensive as he watches her pull herself out of the hot water and shake her hair out, completely unconcerned with her nakedness, before making her way over to the pile of clothing she brought in with her. After pulling on a tunic that is far too large and piling all of her hair into her towel, she gives him one last, long look before vanishing into the cool corridor beyond.

Later, as he emerges into the halls as well, he recalls the way it had once felt when he and Robb had worked to catch some of the cats that made Winterfell their home.

It was often that the wily creatures would yowl and push against their chests with their claws out, trying to get away. Every once in a while, though, one would be content to lie in their arms and have her fur stroked for a time before jumping from their arms, landing on her feet and moving away as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes, they would find cats that had been mauled by the hounds and, often, they would have to twist the thing's head so she wouldn't suffer any longer. There was one, though, that he thought of now… a white thing who had always reminded him of a tiny lion. He and Robb had found her, her leg chewed to ribbons and her yowling something fierce in the loft of the stables. When the two boys had wrapped her in a horse blanket and pulled her from the loft, Theon had tried to take her and twist her head as well, but Sansa had screamed and father had found them all squabbling over the dying cat.

In a fit of tears from all the children, Eddard Stark finally agreed to let the children rush the cat off to the Maester. Old, bald Luwin had clucked his tongue and refused at first, but finally he was badgered by the children and Jon had wrapped the cat tight in the blanket as the man cut away the dead leg, then cleaned her and stitched her shut.

He received many scratches for his effort, but when, weeks later, he'd seen the cat stalking around on her three legs, it had been worth it.

A smile comes to his face as he lies in his bed. For once, his mind turns, not to the Wall, but to that cat, imagining her with bright green eyes. When he expects to hear a meow, he hears a laugh instead.


Author's Note: Next update will be Wednesday, January 25th. The story will update Monday, Wednesday and Friday!

Decided to upload the chapter before bed since I'm still up, so I hope you all enjoy! Longest chapter in the story, and a little insight to what has made Iv into who she is.

In case you didn't catch it in the first chapter, her name is pronounced 'Eve'. Figured I should put this somewhere. Again, thanks for all the faves and story alerts! Feel free to drop a review as well. I like hearing from my readers!