Ev̱gení̱s walked out from the open castle doorway back into the filthy mud puddles of Winterfell. She tried to step lightly as she pulled on her riding gloves. She had only found out about the hunt that morning, and though the hour was early, she found herself compelled to go. Last night, during her bath, she reviewed her evening. She recalled how her heart sunk into her stomach when she thought that everyone might know her shame, and yet, those thoughts failed when she thought of Jon Snow. He had a nice smile, and his palms told of a kind, and honourable heart.
She could see father mounting a horse that was not his own, and she began to wonder what had happened to it. Lord Stark was already mounted and was watching the King struggle to mount his. Still on the ground was Robb, he was walking about his horse fastening the saddle.
Behind him was Jon, who had just arrived with a saddle on his shoulder. He carried it like it was nothing, and she watched him threw it into the horse and begin to tighten it in place.
Ev̱gení̱s smiled and quickened her pace, her heart beating faster. Theon Greyjoy stepped out from behind his mount, and made she face uncaring if anyone saw. Can I even stand another moment with Theon Greyjoy?
Some feet away were the Queen's brothers and a small party of their own. Tyrion Lannister was already saddled and next to his brother. He was every bit as ugly as the rumours proclaimed. She had not had the honour of a proper introduction, but she was sure to get one today. Jaime Lannister seemed like everything a proud knight from a child's storybooks might have foretold. Handsome, tall, and fair of hair, Ev̱gení̱s might have thought him a Prince, if she did not know better.
"Lady Kyría." She stopped, not knowing who had called her name. "I do not believe we have yet met." Tyrion Lannister.
"Lord of Lannister." She said before even turning around. "It is a pleasure indeed." She performed her loveliest courtesy. "Our sweet sister was pleased to receive some of your fine silks."
"It is an honor to serve the crown my Lord." She lowered her head.
"Tyrion please. But only if I can call you Ev̱gení̱s. I do like that name. I've always found names from Essos to be so much more interesting."
Ev̱gení̱s laughed, "If it please you," She paused for a moment, "Tyrion."
"Ev̱gení̱s." He said jokingly, letting the 's' last longer than it needed to, he nodded, smiled and moved his horse away.
She smiled and lowered her head again as he ride past.
"Keep your head up." She lifted her head quickly and saw that Jaime Lannister had spoken. He was more handsome up close. "It would be a shame to hide a face such as yours." He smiled and trotted away as well, leaving her too bashful to conceive an answer.
"Ev̱gení̱s!" Father called her out of her trance. Each person turned to face her direction, save the King, who's belly still stopped his mount. She broke into a brisk walk to join them.
"Good morning father." She said as she smiled, her now gloved hand moving a loose strand behind her ear. She wore it in a golden snood to keep the wind from disturbing it. It had gold netting with pearls embroidered into every link. She had always thought of it as jewelry for the hair.
As she looked around she could see no sign of the Queen or Princess Myrcella. Was I the only woman who accepted the invitation?
When she finally reached the crowd, Robb spoke at once. "Ev̱gení̱s, you came." He seemed genuinely pleased.
"I would not want to miss it." She said sweetly.
Jon joined his brother by her side. "Morning." He said, his smile large, and his eyes wincing in the sun. "We missed you when we broke fast." He began. Ev̱gení̱s wondered if that was a reminder of what she had said last night. "We thought you would not come."
Father chimed in loud as ever. "That's my girl! The only one to accept the invitation to a hunt!" He laughed his roaring laugh and seemed very proud. Lord Stark seemed pleased by fathers show of affection and smiled.
"You know I always love a good hunt father. Though, I am thinking that perhaps, I should not have come."
"Why not?" Robb asked promptly.
"I suppose I am out of my element. In Westeros, it seems that hunting is much less of a female outing. Perhaps I should stay behind."
"Not to worry Ev̱gení̱s." Lord Stark said first, "If you come, maybe these boys will catch something for a change." Father laughed at his joke.
She took a moment to think, when Jon spoke again. "You should come. It will make for better company." She could not say no now. She was proud and pleased that he considered her to be good company.
"Well, if I can find my horse, I will gladly come." She accepted.
"Ah, your horses and saddles have been taken to the stables for a good cleaning. But don't worry. You can have one of ours." Robb said, grabbing the reigns of one very large brown mare. Ev̱gení̱s' faced went from pleased to distressed. "Don't worry, our horses are the best in Westeros."
"I do not doubt your horses. It's my saddle that I will be needing." She spoke of her special saddle that would allow her to ride two legs aside, even at fast speeds.
Robb and Jon looked at each other, then quickly to their father.
Lord Stark leaned forward, "Can you not simply straddle the beast?"
Robb and Jon looked back to her swiftly, just in time for her to laugh and stutter her words. "You mean, one leg on each side?" Everyone nodded. "I'm afraid that now, I really am thinking that this was not a good idea." She shook her head, almost in fear.
"Ned!" The King's voice boomed over everyone else's, impatient and stern. The group turned to his direction right away. He rode up behind Ev̱gení̱s, "Put her on your son's horse. She can hold onto him. Come on now, let's get into the wood before it starts to piss rain."
Everyone's eyes widened at the King's word. Ev̱gení̱s, however, barely heard the filth. She simply smiled at the idea of riding with Jon. She could hold on tight and pretend to be afraid to fall off...
"Excellent idea." Father said quickly. " Ev̱gení̱s can ride with your boy Robb, and we can get onto our hunt!" The older men rode away slowly, clearly impatient.
Ev̱gení̱s smiled faded, and she looked to Jon quickly. He smiled with his mouth closed and watched her as she began to turn and walk towards Robb's steed. Jon mounted quickly, swinging his leg over the beast with ease. He was so much taller then her, Ev̱gení̱s could never mount on the first try.
She turned to face Robb and he seemed to beam with happiness. His hands looked like they might be ready to lift. "Can I help you?" He asked, his hands hovering in the air near her waist.
"Yes. Could you?" She asked sweetly. It was always easier to mount a horse with a man's help. She thought of Jon's sweaty palms, and how it might have felt to have his hands on her.
Robb placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up onto the horses back, a green waterfall of dress cascading over the side. Robb smiled all the while as he got onto the horse. She had a moments pause before she wrapped her arms around his chest and held on tightly. She could feel the fine stitching in his doublet as she moved her fingertips about, and the thick fur on his cloak tickled her nose. Turning her head to the side, she watched Jon ride beside them. He wore a thick fur cloak, just as his brother, only, Jon's matched the darkness in his eyes. Ev̱gení̱s did not much care for the climate in the North, but she did like the way the men looked and carried themselves. She found that all of their layers and furs made them look at least two sizes larger.
"Ghost, come!" Ev̱gení̱s could not be sure of what Jon was calling.
"Greywind!" Robb yelled after him. Ev̱gení̱s smiled and leaned over slightly to get Robb and Jon's attention.
"Who are you calling?" Before either of them could speak, she had her answer. She took in a large breath deeply through her throat when two colossal wolves, half she size of Robb's horse strode up beside them. She clung to Robb's chest tighter.
"Don't be frightened Ev̱gení̱s. Ghost and Greywind are loyal beasts." Robb said over his shoulder, tilting his head to the left as much as he could.
"You own these creatures?" She asked with her eyes wide.
"We found them by their mother, deep in the wood. She looked like she had been dead for days."
"And you saved them all. How gallant." She smiled speaking to no brother in particular.
"I would have slit their throats. Would have made an excellent pelt." Ev̱gení̱s turned to look behind her, where Theon Greyjoy was riding. "And if I didn't use it for a cloak, I would have used it to keep warm in the night." He finished, looking at her with that slimy smile that she loathed. Keep him warm in the night? And woman or two no doubt. She thought again that he might know of her shame, but she could not be sure. She broke her eye contact with him, and ignored his comment by changing the subject.
"I should thank you again for inviting me. I thought I would see Arya here for certain." The smile fell from Theon's face as quickly as if she had slapped it down to the ground. He galloped away in haste, not to be humiliated again.
Jon and Robb laughed in unison, apparently glad to be rid of Theon's comment as well. Robb answered her, "Arya begged to come for hours, but father said she was too young."
Ev̱gení̱s could remember a time when she was too young to do the things that she wanted. When she was sent to bed early before a grand feast, or forced to stay home during a hunt. "I remember when my father told me I couldn't go hunting for the first time."
"You demanded to go as I recall. Acted like a little Princess." Father called back from ahead. She could see the hunting party smiling at the idea. "And when we came home, you had forgotten all about it. We found you under a tree holding a feast for your dolls. Leaves for the main course." Ev̱gení̱s could remember that little girl, her dinner guests were more lively these days.
"That sounds like my daughter." Lord Stark began. "Only Arya would be more like to be climbing the trees than sitting under them." The Stark family laughed together, and soon, Winterfell was gone, lost behind hundreds of moss covered trees.
The hunt lasted until the sun was beginning to set in the West. The day had been a miserable one for the weather, but a glorious one for a hunt. They would return with two stags, three boars, and over a dozen rabbits of every colour.
Ev̱gení̱s spent most of her time on Robb's steed, speaking to him and Jon. She wished she could have spent the day with Jon alone, clinging to his chest while he rode, and feeling the fur on his cloak stoke her face.
"We'll stop for a time before we head back to Winterfell. SEVEN HELLS! This riding will be the death of me." The King yelled from his horse. Though once he got off, he seemed to have nothing else to speak of, save the hunt. He was a large man with a fat belly and a rosy face. Ev̱gení̱s thought him a drunk, with the smell and sound of wine constantly on his breath. It was hard however, not to admit his strength. When he went in pursuit of a beast, he was more powerful than any younger man, and twice as fierce.
Once everyone else got off from their saddles, Ev̱gení̱s waited for assistance. She could feel a hard bruise from her hip to her thigh. She began to stir, when Robb came around to her.
He placed his hands on her waist and helped her down. She could see Jon watching them from a distance, undoing his sword belt.
"Are you well?" Robb asked, noticing her grimace.
Ev̱gení̱s turner her gaze to him, "Yes. I'm very well, thank you for asking. I think I might take a turn about the wood to get my legs working again." She smiled.
"Yes, we could all use it. May I accompany you?" Ev̱gení̱s opened her mouth to answer when the booming sound of the King rung throughout the wood again.
"Ned! Tell one of your sons to come help me tie down these bucks. They weren't done right the first time! There's going to be rain, and I won't have the pelts ruined by this damned mud."
"Robb!" Lord Stark called from behind.
"Excuse me." Robb said quickly, moving to his fathers side. She watched as he tried to reposition the stags and tie them down with better knots.
She took in a deep breath and for the first time since she left for the hunt, she could feel the cold seeping into her bones. There was a dampness in the air that chilled like a cold cellar.
She began to pull on her riding gloves tighter. When she looked forward, Jon Snow had placed his belt over his saddle. He looked at her all the while from the top of his eyes as she massaged her frigid fingers.
"Cold again?"
She laughed under her breath, almost embarrassed. "I'm ashamed to say, but yes. I suppose I did not learn my lesson yesterday night."
He began to move towards her, the wet foliage bowing under his steps. "Well, last night, I could not help you in that regard." He began to undo his cloak.
"Oh no, please, I couldn't. You'll catch cold." She began to beg.
"I'm used to it." He insisted, swinging it over her shoulders before she could argue further.
"Thank you." She mouthed the words, but little came out, all she could do was take in his smell. He gazed towards the busy group with his eyes in small slits.
"I'd still like to walk. Could you come with me?" Ev̱gení̱s asked. He looked from her to the group once more.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait for Robb?"
"You've proven yourself an excellent guide." She reminded him. He stared at her for a moment, again and smiled without baring his teeth.
Ev̱gení̱s began to walk without him, a smile playing on her lips as she went. She wanted him to follow, to care about what happened to her.
"Alright." He said finally.
Ev̱gení̱s seemed to lead the way at first, until Jon caught up and walked by her side. She looked at him for a moment and watched. When she had first met him, his face was so clean of facial hair, and now, it had begun to come back. He looks better like this, she thought. He was started to look like a true Northman now, the kind Septa Senos used to tell her about as a child. Rough, bold, dirty, and good with a sword. It was quiet for a time, when Jon thought to break the silence.
"Sansa spoke highly of you this morning."
"Did she? Sansa is so very sweet, and beautiful. I heard a rumour that she might one day be the Queen of Westeros. I shall be making my deliveries to her someday."
"Perhaps." Jon said shortly.
"She was talking about Myr the whole time we were breaking fast. It can't be true that you wear gold in your ears. Can it?" He asked in wonder.
She stopped abruptly, and watched as he had to stop ahead of her and turn around. She grabbed one side of her snood and lifted to bare her right ear. She paid close attention to show him a great deal of her neck as well. She was suddenly thankful that she had dabbed a scent behind her lobes.
He leaned in close to see, and there, on her ear, was a tiny dot, no larger than a pin hole. "We pass the gold through that hole. It's very beautiful, in Myr." She finished shrugging, and lowering her hair again, he seemed disappointed that she had taken it away so soon. She strode past him with a smile that could have rivaled Theon's in slyness.
He watched as she walked by and looked on with interest. He may have become aware of her flirtation. Walking behind her, he did not bother to catch up. "Why are you not married?" He asked abruptly, it was his turn to burry under her skin.
She stopped and let out breath of air, stunned. She turned around to face him, though there were some steps between them now. She blinked a few times and gained her composure. "That's a loaded question." Was the only thing she could think to say, until..."Why are you not married?" She answered with another question.
"You're older than me. Twenty and Three names days is what you told my father." He said back, his boldness growing.
"Oh, and am I so much older than you? An old maid?"
He lowered his head and smiled with his lips closed, intrigued that he might have struck a cord.
In truth, he did. Why she was not married was a question that would ruin her. The ultimate question. If she were able to bare children, she would be married right now, and there would be no Jon Snow, or Winterfell. There would be no problems in the world.
She could feel her heart getting heavy, and she looked down to the ground. "If I've given you any offense, it was not my intent." He began, but Ev̱gení̱s held out her hand to stop him. He truly didn't mean any offense by it. After all, how could he know about things like this. Men barely know about things this terrible, and Jon Snow was still a boy.
"Do you want to know the truth of it?"
He took a few steps towards her, and began to walk by her side again. Treading the dead leaves beneath their feet. Ev̱gení̱s could feel the damp setting in more than before, a thin fog began to appear around their ankles, and her hair began to curl at the ends.
He did not answer her question, he just remained quiet and walked beside her, hanging on her every word, every breath.
She could not say why she was telling him this, though as the words came out, she could not help but feel safe. She looked up to the sky and spoke softly. "There were many arrangements, at last five. None of which came to pass. My latest failure was Reny Baratheon, though I'm sure that the arrangement was rooted in my fathers wealth, and my access to fine Myrish goods and fabrics." She allowed herself a something of a smile.
"Reny Baratheon?" He asked, his voice almost raised. "The Kings brother?" He winced, as though that would help him to understand.
"Is there any other?" She continued to look ahead. "Don't get too excited Jon Snow, as I said, it was a failure. They took one look at me and turned away." She lied, it was one look, but at her insides.
He shook his head again. He's too smart for his own wellness. She thought. She had seen that in his hand as well. Too much cleverness, coupled with too much honour was a recipe for doom. Had it not been for a long and well defined lifeline, she would have written him out of his own future.
"One look?" He asked again.
"One." She thought that she sounded very unconvincing, but still, she lied.
"That doesn't make sense." It sounded like something that he might have wanted to keep in his head. Something that his mouth was unable to keep a secret.
"Doesn't it? I'm not so great a beauty, Jon Snow." She said bluntly. He scrunched up his face and continued to shake his head, only slightly this time. She had no way of understanding what that meant. She simply thought him confused.
"Perhaps, a change in subject." She suggested.
"No." He said without authority. She continued to walk, getting ahead of him. "No." He said again, catching up. "Your stories are as fake as Old Nan's." She had heard of this Old Nan too many times since she came to Winterfell.
"You all have a poor opinion of this old woman. For all I've heard, she's been right about every story she's told. She says, 'Myrish people can read hands and grinds, they can tell your future' and you say, 'Old Nan is insane- and her stories are insane as well.' Then I come along, and I tell you they are true, and you all have the same idea in your thick heads. 'Old Nan's stories are foolish.' You need to spend more time listening."
He looked like he might have been riled, "Listen? Us? We sound less like wolves and more like mice when your people came to Winterfell. You all speak so loudly, I'm like to go deaf by the time the King leaves."
Now, they were both riled. She was always proud of her families loudness. Those who yell the loudest, get the spoils, she was taught. "Well, I always found quiet people to be shy, and shyness is just another way of saying that you are too weak to run with the strong." She didn't really believe what she had said, as it came from her mouth, she regretted it.
"That's not true. The quiet are dignified. They think before they speak." He argued.
"I don't like to argue." Another lie.
Jon looked like he had something to say,
CRASH.
A bolt of light flashed all around, and before Ev̱gení̱s could blink from the fear, it was gone.
"What was that?!" She said with emphasis.
A loud boom filled the space around her, and it felt as though the very earth had stirred. She didn't more, perfectly still, she stood there with her mouth wide open.
"The light is lightning, and the noise is thunder." He said, his face up to the sky. "Don't you have that where you are from?"
"No." She answered, still obviously scared. "We get a light rain very few times a year..."
As she said it, it began to poor from the sky like a well deserved cry. She blinked and stood there with her arms wide open in disgust and discomfort. She could feel the water seeping through her clothes, and soaking down, until the vibrant green was dull and dark.
Jon ran across the gap between them and took her wrist. "Come! We need to get to a shelter! I know this wood, follow me!" She had to lean in to hear him, he was screaming to what looked like the top of his lungs, but when that rain hit the ground, it was a pick axe to rock.
They ran full speed, or as fast as her legs could carry her in her dress. In seconds, her hair was soaked. She could not help but remember the first time she had seen rain. It was gentle and life giving, and she had only had four name days. Caught in the storm, she ran through the shore line and watched the water come up and slap her caves. She could remember being a warm kind of dampness. The most moisture she felt that day came from the ocean, not the sky. She could feel it even now, the humidity forcing her hair to cling to the side of her face, while small drops appeared on her tunic, she could count them.
This was not that gentle summer rain, and it was no rain for little girls to be playing in. As they ran, the water hit their faces harder, and she wondered why she could feel small sharp pinches on her cheeks. It burned the harder she ran, and she felt like she was being dragged.
"Where are we going?!" She yelled as loud as she could. She was louder than him, and was certainly heard.
He didn't answer, he just continued to pull her behind him as quickly as he could. "Hello?!" She called again.
"Why 'ould I ans'?!" She shook her head. He was impossible to hear, so she thought for a minute, trying to piece together his words. Why should I answer? Is what she thought she heard.
"What?!" She asked, not because she didn't hear him.
"Why should I answer?!" He yelled in her face now, turning his body to be seen and heard. Her wrist was still in his hand. "You don't like to answer my questions, so let's just keep right on keeping secrets!" She could heard him, though the rain was getting harder.
"Don't answer me then!" She yelled back, he would find shelter regardless, or they would both die. She would not give up her secret so easily.
Through the fog, and rain, and the pain all over her face, they went. Ahead, though faint, was the shelter he spoke of. It was made from black rock and green moss, a cave that would be the safe, dry place they needed.
He moved in first, and Ev̱gení̱s watched as he ducked, and did the same. To her surprise, it was not dry. The damp and cold was greater then the outside, but at least she had no sharp pains all over her face.
Their breathing was heavy and he released her wrist and leaned against the stone, despite the cold. She could see her chest heaving, even from outside the cloak he had given him.
"Are you alright?" He asked now in his regular voice, his chest still moving up and down vigorously.
"Yes. I think so. Though my face hurts." She winced, touching her cheeks with both hands."There were things hitting my face, cutting me."
"That's hail." He corrected. "Hail is ice."
"Ice from the sky? Why does anyone live here?!"
He leaned his back against the black stone wall, and though he was still heaving, he managed a small laugh.
