Sienna swore that her arms were about to fall straight off her body.
Jon had finished his duties early that day, so he'd brought her out to the training yard for an extra hour of practice. He'd kept to his agreement, training her every evening. It had been nearly two weeks. Sometimes he tried to teach her hand to hand combat, but he wasn't the finest at it. At least he'd taught her the best way to punch a man in the jaw. However, he'd spend a solid few minutes laughing at her paltry attempts to hit him in the shoulder, which only made her want to hit harder.
Now, he'd moved on to sword training. He'd imagined that if she were armed with a sword, or at least a dagger, men would be less inclined to try and attack her. As he was more inclined towards the sword, he decided to train her at that.
"Again", he said, raising his sword into a battle ready position, "Follow my footsteps."
"I swear to all the gods, Jon Snow", she groaned, rubbing at her sore arms, "If you make me lift that sword again it's going straight up your ass."
A smirk played at his lips, like he was waiting for an excuse to make the training harder. "I thought I told you no complaining."
"I'm not complaining", Sienna stated, raising her brows, "I'm just stating a fact."
"Well no more stating facts", Jon responded, sinking into his knees for the ready position, "Raise your sword and attack me."
Sighing, Sienna weakly attempted to lift the sword as high as Jon. But it wobbled in her arms. The heavy steel was impossible for her to hold up with her weak body. She couldn't even hold her own balance with the thing in her hands. She felt the strain in her back and in her hips along with her biceps and fingers. But she would never give Jon an excuse to stop the training. Instead, she let it wobble as she held it up with all her might before grunting and swinging at Jon.
He quickly deflected the slow swing, slapping the weapon straight out of her hands and onto the ground before pointing his own sword straight at her face.
"I won", he said simply, though his victory didn't seem to matter much to him as he lowered his weapon, "You need to be able to hold the thing up."
"I've never had to hold something so heavy", Sienna bit back, trudging over to pick up the discarded sword, "It'll take time. I promise I can do it."
Jon's eyes looked her over, no doubt taking in the bruises she'd taken to the wrists from all the times he's knocked her sword out of her hands. "Maybe if we switched to a dagger?"
"No", she insisted, turning to face the man, "I want to do this. I can't just be the little girl with the little weapon. I need to give them a reason to be scared of me."
His eyes flicked over her, seeming to be hesitant to continue. However, he looked up at the sky and let his shoulders sag before turning his gaze back to her. "Fine. Get back in the ready position."
Nodding, she scooped up the weapon with some difficulty and readied herself again. Her arms felt weaker than before if that were possible. The back of her shoulder burned but she held her stance as solidly as possible. Jon sunk down to meet her, sword ready and still.
With another cry, she swung the sword in the other direction but was easily countered once again. The thing flew out of her fingers and clattered onto the ground once more. Sienna couldn't help the cry that escaped her lips at the sting on her knuckles from the hit they took from Jon's sword. Once again, his weapon was pointed right at her face.
"I won", he said again.
"Yes, yes, you won", Sienna simpered, crossing her arms and glaring at Jon, "You've said that at least a thousand times."
"Don't exaggerate", Jon replied, his face straight, "It's only been about five hundred."
Sienna snorted, the corners of her lips quirking up for only a brief second. She curled her fist tight, feeling the bruised knuckles pop.
"You may want to get Sam to wrap those", Jon interrupted her, pointing towards her hands, "The wrists too."
Sienna shrugged, pulling her face into a thoughtful expression. "I might do that. If you pick up my sword and take it to the barracks for me."
The boy's brows quirked up, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "You drive a hard bargain."
"You're a big strong brother of the Night's Watch, I'm sure you can handle it." The girl sent him an exaggerated smile, squeezing her eyes nearly shut and shuffling her feet beneath her like a little girl. She heard him chuckle, a fairly welcome sound.
"You make a good point", he smirked, scooping up the sword with little effort, "We'll continue tomorrow. Maybe when you get better I'll bring Edd in to practice with you."
"I'll be here."
With one last nod, Sienna walked past Jon towards the Maester's chambers where she knew Sam was still lointering about. The walk was short and she didn't bother knocking on the door. Instead, she barged right in. The room was warm and smelt of herbs and parchment. The smack of the door made poor Sam's head pop up from his latest book. His eyes fell on her black and blue knuckles and smirking face with distaste.
"Training again?" he asked sympathetically.
"Don't worry, Sam", Sienna smirked, already hopping up on the table and holding her hands out, "Only the hands and wrists today. No bruised ribs or hips."
"That's a relief", he huffed, setting down his book and moving towards the wrappings set up on the table near him, "I've told Jon to slow down with you."
The dark haired girl's head tipped to the side. "Now why would I want him to do that?"
"Well for starters, you're in here every night with a new bruise", Sam pointed out, walking towards her and taking her hand in his, "And you're sick."
Sienna spread her fingers so he could begin lacing the wrappings through them. "If he doesn't push me, I'll never get better. Besides, I'll always be sick. And I have medicine again. I might as well learn how to deal with it."
"Well, the amount of nosebleeds and sick spells I've helped you through beg to differ", Sam muttered, tightening the wraps skillfully.
"I want to learn to fight back", the girl insisted, leaning forward intently, "I want to show these men they can't touch me. That I'll-"
"Beat them over the heads with your books?"
Sienna's jaw dropped open slightly, a huff falling from her lips. "You're a cheeky one, aren't you?"
"Not nearly as much as you", he replied with a smile, tying off the end of the wrapping, "Your hands should be fine within the week. Tell Jon I said to avoid your knuckles from now on."
A little smile grew on the girl's face before she hopped down from the table. "No promises, Sam."
With that, she winked at the poor boy and sauntered out of the chambers. She could hear him grumbling behind her. Something about having to get more padding for her.
The darkness of the night was alleviated only by the torchlight that only reached the corners of the yard. But Sienna knew darkness well. She'd been studying the grounds of Castle Black, trying to find its version of the tunnels of the Red Keep. So far the closest she'd come were dark corners with no torches where no one bothered to look at night. But it was enough for now.
She followed the dark path towards her room, climbing up the stairs and flinging herself into the hallway for warmth. Just down the hall she could see a bright white bundle of fur sitting just outside Jon's door. Ghost.
Sienna was not unfamiliar with the direwolf. It had followed Jon through the yards a few times, though mostly kept in the kennels under Thornes orders. And she could have sworn she'd seen it trailing behind her at random points during the day. She wanted to no longer fear the wolf, but his red eyes unsettled her, and he always seemed to be on edge around her anyway. She may not have much worldly experience, but Sienna knew a direwolf with a stiff back was one you wanted to be wary of.
"Hello", she whispered to the wolf, "Having a good night, then?"
His white ears perked up, chin still resting on his paws. His red eyes flicked over her, seeming to give nothing away.
Sienna narrowed her eyes, mock glaring at the direwolf. "You're an indifferent little beast."
Ghosts ears dropped pointedly back down to his skull as Sienna turned on her heel and made her way into her room. She shut the door and threw herself onto her bed. The furs engulfed her in warmth almost immediately. Lazily, she snatched up the bottle of medicine Maester Aemon had helped her brew earlier that morning. The taste was far better than the tar quality of her previous potions, instead only a dull herbal taste coated her tongue. She just wanted to lay there, let her aching muscles rest for the night. Her heavy eyes fell closed, already halfway asleep when a knock came at her door.
She groaned loudly, cursing every god she knew for the disturbance. Achingly, she pushed herself back up and made her way to the door. She threw it open with a sneer only to see Jon standing on the other side, his face arrogantly smiling. His arms were behind his back.
"What do you want?", the dark haired girl demanded, "I just want to sleep."
His dark eyes swept over her room, face still haughty and intact. "May I come in?"
Confused, she shrugged noncommittally and gestured inside. There seemed to be more of a spring in Jon's step, like he was proud of something. Though what he had to be proud of, she had no clue.
"Did you somehow manage to get drunk in the last half hour since I saw you?" she questioned, shutting her door, "Because that would be impressive."
He shrugged, trying to keep his face schooled. "Why would you think I'm drunk."
"Your face is doing this strange thing", she pointed out, waving her finger around his face, "Your cheeks are turned up in this thing someone might call a smile."
"I know how to smile", he shot back, feet planted firmly beneath him.
"Everyone who's ever met you would disagree."
The boy chuckled, hands still held loosely behind his back. "I've brought you something."
Sienna's dark brows went up, arms crossing. "Are you sweet on me, Snow? That why you're bringing me gifts late in the night?"
Sienna had to resist pissing herself laughing as she watched Jon's expression. He looked like he wanted to gag, but all the brooding politeness he clung so hard to made it impossible for him to do so. Instead his face twisted into a rather disgusted and confused expression, one that made laughter stick in the dark haired girls throat. Her cheeks puffed out trying to contain the sound, but bits escaped.
Jon glared at her, his dark eyes narrowing. "If you're quite done now, did you want to know what I brought or not?"
"Yes, I do", she chuckled, swiping the spit from her lips, "I promise I'll stop. Just show me."
A proud smile spread over the boys face, his back straightening slightly as his arms unwound from behind his back. Gently, he pulled out what looked like a twisted strip of metal. Confused, Sienna eyed it closer and took a step forward. Upon closer inspection, her face lit up when she saw what was really laying gently in Jon's hands. A sword.
The blade was slightly crooked, curved out at an almost unnoticeable angle with a few waves in the metal. The edges were slightly ragged, sticking out sharply with what looked like a painful splinter. The thing had not been finished, but could be smoothed out with some care.
"I found it in the blacksmith's chambers", Jon explained, "He had a pile of weapons he'd tossed aside. Said he'd gotten the proportions wrong, that they were too small for the men. So I thought perhaps you could find some use of it."
Sienna could feel her jaw fall open, words dying on her tongue. Her eyes remained on the weapon, the way the metal rippled and shone in the light of the few candles she had lit. The hilt was bound in strips of black leather, rough and half done. By all accounts it should be ugly, but to her eyes it wasn't. It was sturdy, slim, strong. It was beautiful.
"Is this the first time you don't have something to say?"
Forcing her eyes up, Sienna's jaw remained open. Cautiously, she reached out and tried to place her fingers on the blade, but they stuck just an inch above the metal. It was like her body was afraid to touch it. Jon seemed to notice, his face unchanged but still soft. He reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist, guiding her hand towards the leather bound hilt.
"It won't hurt you", he pointed out.
Slowly, he let his fingers unclurl from around the hilt and let Sienna take the weight of it. Her arm dipped under the weight for only a second before she felt that she could hold it up without too much difficulty. The leather felt sturdy under her fingers, the long instrument decently balanced and easy enough to hold.
"When did you find this?" she asked quietly, running her free fingers over the cool metal.
"Last night after dinner", he responded, "Donal wouldn't stop whining that he needed help cleaning."
Sienna's jaw widened dramatically as realization dawned on her. "You've had this for over a day? And you couldn't have given me this before we did nearly three hours of training?"
That damned smile was back on his face, eyes crinkling proudly at the sides while his shoulders squared off. "I just wanted to watch you try and hold a regular sword up for a while longer. It's rather funny, in a pathetic sort of way."
She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped her throat. "You're an ass, Jon Snow!" she laughed, punching him lamely in the shoulder.
He laughed along, playing at being hurt. Stepping back, their chuckles filled the room and his eyes fell back on the sword. He nodded towards it, looking at it questioningly.
"All the best swords have names", he said, eyes going back up to her, "Which one do you want?"
The question hung in the air, giving Sienna a moment to think it over. She eyed the warped metal, the sturdy hilt and the abnormal curve to the blade. Names circled through her head, popping in and out, quickly discarded. For a moment, her mind flashed back to that night all those years ago, drenched in moonlight and utterly powerless. The night Lord Varys had given her hope. The memory made her face set, the feeling she'd been flooded with when she was young still flickering deep inside her.
"Shadow", she stated firmly, regarding the sword with a kind of reverence she's never placed on an object before, "There's power in shadows."