Jon had left before Anya awoke the following morning. She opened her eyes and noted that there was no warm body next to her, nor was there anyone breathing on her neck. She sat up and propped herself up by her elbows, yawning loudly as she did so. It was only then when she realised what had happened the previous day. Ygritte had died in Jon's arms. She had passed away into the next world.
Anya still wore her dress from the previous day and she decided to keep wearing it. She pushed herself from the bed and noted that the sun streamed in through the slit of the window. Making the bed, she turned her head around when she heard the door open.
Jon walked in, covered in his black cloak and dressed as though he was poised for another battle. Anya hoped there would be no more. She didn't know if she could handle the thought of another war. He looked to her and then sunk down to sit on her bed as she did her best to start a fire in the small fireplace. She twirled the sticks in her hands and Jon leant forwards, his mind still on Ygritte.
"You know, don't you?" Jon said. "You knew that I was a fool to love her."
"No," Anya replied. "I do not know what made you love her. People fall for each other all the time."
"But I knew," Jon scolded himself.
"And blaming yourself for falling in love with her won't help you now, Jon," Anya quickly told him. "Would Ygritte want you to blame yourself for loving her? I doubt it, Jon. If she loved you then she would tell you to remember her, but not to spend the rest of your days mourning her."
Jon couldn't believe the speech which had tumbled from Anya's lips. He had never thought that she was so clever before. But her words did make sense. Ygritte would be here and tell him that he knew nothing if she could see him now. She would be angry with him for leaving her, but she would still find it in her heart to forgive him. She had always known who he was.
"I am not saying that you should forget her straight away...Gods I don't think you can forget those who you care for...but...it does get better. Losing someone hurts, but it does get better."
Jon remained silent and Anya gave up trying to light a fire and knelt by his side. She folded her arms on the bed and peered up to him, a slim smile on her pale face as she tried to get him to copy the motion.
"You lost your father and your brother," she reminded him. "I lost my mother. People are taken from us all of the time, but those people would not want us to quit. They would not want us to stop living or fighting for what we believe in."
Jon felt her tap his thigh and then she stood up and he grabbed her by the wrist. She continued to smile warmly at him and Jon knew that she was right. Everything Anya had said was always right. He looked at her warm eyes and kind face. He looked at everything about her. He should have fallen for someone like her. He should have loved someone who was kind and fierce, but did not kill with ease.
It was then when Jon moved with haste and lowered his lips to latch on Anya's. The girl was shocked for a few moments as Jon's arms wrapped around her waist, his hands holding the small of her back to keep her pressed against his body. She kept her orbs open as she moved her hands to his upper arms, her fingers wrapping around his thick arms as she tried to push him from her. He was relentless: she would give him that. His lips continued to move against hers, his eyes closed too harshly that she knew he was not enjoying kissing her.
She felt his teeth pull at her bottom lip and she finally managed to push him from her.
"Jon," she gasped for breath and he shook his head with realisation of what he had just done.
Closing his eyes, Jon turned away from her and placed his hands on the back of his head. Anya continued to stare at him, her hands wiping at her mouth as she did so.
"I shouldn't have done that," Jon replied. "Why did I do that?"
"I don't know," Anya whispered. "Don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone and it didn't mean anything. Maybe you were...I don't know...looking for comfort..."
"Maybe," Jon muttered and Anya placed her hand on his shoulder.
He looked down to her pale fingers and turned around to face her, knowing that he should apologise to her, but he couldn't find the words. She smiled once more and kissed his cheek.
"I should go to Maester Aemon," she said. "You should try to get some more rest and forget about what just happened. It didn't mean anything, Jon and I am not upset about it."
Nodding, Jon watched her go without another word. It was only when she was outside and settled against the wall did she closed her eyes and remembered what it had felt like to have Jon's mouth move against hers. Her fingers trembled against her previously untouched lips. How would he feel if he knew that he had been her first kiss? Would the guilt eat him up some more?
Anya shook her head and began to make her way to Maester Aemon. The last thing Jon needed was more guilt.
...
"Jon Snow is responsible for you, is he not?"
Anya didn't know what she had done to be summoned by Stannis Baratheon. She had been warned by Aemon to speak to him like a king. Anya had not known many kings, but she knew that he had no throne to sit on and he had no crown on his head.
He was sat in the dining hall which was currently empty. Thorne was next to him on his left, eyeing Anya with suspicion as she kept silent. Slynt had shown her in, leering at her and allowing his hand to grope at her backside for a few moments. She had kept silent as he did his best to move his other hand in between her legs over her skirts, but Stannis had summoned her by then.
"She is his whore," Thorne continued, trying to gain favour with Stannis. "Sucks his cock whenever he asks her to."
"I do not," Anya replied in a meek voice.
There was something about Stannis. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that she didn't want to anger him or upset him. She was reminded of a stern man when she looked at him: a man who did not take kindly to liars.
"And you were a wildling?" Stannis ignored Thorne.
"No," Anya said. "I was a daughter of Craster. We lived beyond the Wall, but we were no wildlings. Craster's Keep was taken by men of the Night's Watch...bad men...I escaped and Jon Snow found me and brought me here to keep me safe."
"The girl is a liar by nature," Thorne continued. "I didn't want her here. She is violent and a whore. Slynt said that he found her trying to seduce him in here once...sat on a table with her legs spread...and then she had the nerve to slap him."
"That was not what happened!" Anya yelled.
"Are you questioning a man of the Night's Watch?" Thorne asked.
"Janos Slynt?" Stannis checked, recalling him from when he was a gold cloak in King's Landing. Even Stannis didn't trust Slynt. He never had done and he never would do. His loyalty was cheaper than a whore in Littlefinger's brothel.
"Yes," Thorne said.
"And these men who attacked your home...where are they now?" Stannis continued, shifting uncomfortably on his seat.
"Jon Snow killed them all with Grenn and Edd and some other men who died," Anya said. "No one else would come and save us. The men here are not honourable men like they would have us believe."
"Now listen here, you little slut-"
"-Enough," Stannis growled lowly as Thorne continued to glower. "Men of the Night's Watch are not as honourable as they once might have been...speaking to a woman in such a manner...a woman who has been abused by your men. Am I wrong?"
Thorne could not deny that, but he did continue to look at Anya. His glower was enough to make her see that she was in trouble.
"Anya...go and find Jon Snow. I have an important matter to discuss with him...and thank you for your time to explain how you came to be here."
"You are welcome, your Grace," Anya said with an incline of her head.
Stannis stood too and wandered over to the next door. Thorne followed Anya to the door, his hand grabbing her by her dress as he pushed her outside and into the path of Slynt. She stumbled as Slynt caught her waist and Thorne slapped her across the face and she grunted and Slynt began to mock her.
"Oh darling," Slynt taunted her. "Did the King not believe your story?"
"He believed her," Thorne snarled. "The little whore made him question me and interrupt me. Take her back to Snow and have some fun with her on the way. It might make him angry and lash out...and we all know what Snow is like when he's angry."
Nodding, Slynt knew that Thorne was desperate to be rid of Jon. He took Anya by the shoulder and pushed her forwards, stopping in a hidden alcove on the way. The corridors were cold and Anya could feel her heart pounding in her ears as Slynt pushed her against the wall and his hands moved to her dress. He tugged it over her shoulders and she kicked and screamed, but no one heard her.
"They are all burning the dead outside...down below...there's no one to hear you..." he promised her, his lips engulfing her earlobe and she shuddered as his hand grabbed at her breast.
"I would have you right now if I could...take your maidenhead from you...watch the blood trickle down your filthy thighs..."
"No," she snapped and his lips attacked her neck as his hands moved to pull her skirts up to her waist. She shrieked as he pulled at her underclothes.
"You shouldn't fight," Slynt warned her. "Otherwise I might have you right here."
"I would like to see you try," Anya whispered back and she acted with haste.
She kicked him in between the legs and took that moment to run from him. She ran down the corridors as Slynt stumbled after her. She raced down the corridors, almost tripping over her gown as she went. She came to her chamber which was empty and closed the door, locking it. It didn't take long for the pounding of the door to begin.
"Open the door, you little whore!" he demanded from her.
"Leave me alone!" she roared back, cowering in the corner as he continued to bang on the wood.
Stifling a sob, Anya closed her eyes and turned her back on the wood. She moved into the corner of the room and the bangs continued. It didn't take long for him to work the door open. The locks were old and rusty. Slynt rushed in and dropped his sword to the ground and slammed the door shut behind him.
"Get on the bed," he demanded her.
"No," Anya sobbed loudly, wondering where Stannis was now.
Slynt ignored her and ripped at her dress as he threw her onto the bed and she clawed at him. It earned her another slap, but she didn't care. She continued to fight him, her hands balled into fists as his groin pressed against her hip and his hands mercilessly tugged at her breasts.
"Jon!" Anya yelled his name. "Jon!"
"Lord Snow isn't here now," Slynt promised her.
"He might not be, but I am."
Slynt's body fell on top of Anya before it rolled off of her and she saw Grenn stood over him. She sighed in relief as he offered her his hand. She took hold of it and he held her close to him, covering her with his cloak when he noted that her gown was askew on her body. She saw that he had knocked Slynt out with the hilt of his sword.
"I was on the way to thank you for fixing me up," Grenn told her. "Glad I came when I did."
"Not as glad as I am," Anya whispered and kissed his cheek.
He let her huddle close to his chest as he held her for a few moments. For once he had beaten Jon: he was the knight in shining armour.
...
A/N: Thanks to everyone reading and please do let me know what you think!
