A/N: This would be my last attempt on sparring matches... but with a little twist. So. Yeah. Enjoy! :D

Chapter 10

And The Awkwardness Intensifies

You know those moments when a guy suddenly barges into your room, unaware that you've been flat out naked behind the bed sheets and then he began to blush like mad as he excused himself and exited the door?

Well, that's not exactly what happened.

First, I wasn't at all naked. I've removed my chest-piece and that only left me with two layers of clothing, which was a thick tunic and a leather vest strapped up front. Now, I've only just spent around five minutes inside my room mulling when Jon had entered, at first oblivious to the whole thing. But then when he closed the door and his eyes lingered towards mine, he felt immediately surprised by my presence. He stopped altogether, and I bet my only silver coin that questions started to spring in his head when he saw my slightly bulged chest region and what I could only describe at the moment as the most simplistic and yet feminine features etched across my face.

Second, he was nowhere near fainting at the sight of beautiful ol' me, nor was he going to exit the room anytime soon. Well, I kinda expected this from him. I'm sure that even I would be a tad suspicious if I've found a stray girl wandering inside Castle Black— in the room of the infamous Benjen Stark of all places— and was donning their clothes for some reason. Save for the cloak that was apparently in his hand, to which I'd completely forgotten about when I quickly got up and left the mess hall earlier.

No, it wasn't at all that.

"Who are you?" Jon had first said.

Okay. I could already say that I have an experience in out-of-this-world explanations so...

I raised my hands up defensively. "Don't worry. It's me."

Apparently, I used my light-toned, all-the-feminine voice this time. But somehow, I realized there was a hint of Raine's undertone somewhere there as well, and boy, the look on his face when he finally registered who I truly am was utterly priceless, but at the same time, not good.

"You... Raine?" His face was scrunched up heavily in unfathomed bewilderment.

"Yep." I said, popping the 'p', and then shrugged. "The one and only." I formed a weirded-shy smile on my lips.

"But how..?"

"Look, don't freak out okay? I'm going to explain—"

"So this is what uncle has spoken to me." He immediately interrupted.

My brows slightly furrowed at that. "... What? What did Ben say about me?"

Of course, Jon didn't answer that. Instead, he took his sweet time to stare at me and pieced all the puzzles in his head together. When recognition started to form on his face, he instantly blanked out all other emotions except for his impassive one.

"You're not supposed to be here. You're... You're a..."

I scoffed, feeling slightly bit offended. "A woman? A girl?" And my guess was obviously answered with a shy bow on his behalf. "Well, at least it wouldn't take a genius for someone to know that." I bit back.

"But there has never been a female Crow before." He retorted.

"Well, I ain't technically one yet, and neither are you. So whoop-de-freaking-doo, Jon. You have no power here."

He frowned, thought that I made a good point. Inevitably, he just spoke. "I do not understand. Why did uncle try to keep you from the others?"

Brought back to the topic, I decided not to ask that question again and shelved it for another time. Instead, I answered him as genuinely I could.

"I assure you that Ben's got nothing to do with this." I reasoned. "In fact, he was the one that saved me from a snowstorm. He actually risked his freaking ass just so he could bring me here."

He paused, as if to think for a moment. "Are you a Wildling then?" He slightly bent his free hand to the hilt of his sword.

My hands whipped up frenetically. "No! It's just... Ugh." God, it's the second time I was already asked by this question, and it still had left me gaping for an answer. "It's a little hard for me to explain, okay? But I'm tired, and I'm guessing so are you. Can't we just talk about this later?"

His eyes darted away, and the soft creases on his forehead started to scrunch up. Simply put, he was pissed off about something. About me I guess. That's when he pulled his hand away from his sword, much to my relief, and instead fumbled the cloak in his hands.

"Then I shall take my leave." He said, still not looking at me. And I was sure that his voice sounded harsher than it seemed. "Your cloak." He placed it neatly on top of the drawer next to the door and turned himself towards the knob.

"Wait!" I hurriedly said. "You're not... you're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

He froze. His hands were a few inches across the knob, but he couldn't make himself to touch it somehow. It's like he was going to try and say something, but I guess male arrogance came first and he ignored the feeling by opening the door. Again, caution was obviously thrown off the window, but this time I had held the scarf on just in case.

A moment of hesitation crept up on me, but I willed myself to ask, "Are you mad at me?"

"No!"

I jumped slightly with a slight squeak on my throat, clutching the scarf tightly as my eyes widened at the force of his word.

He was. I think. He just didn't want to show it. If anything, I somehow wanted empathize him. I mean, I didn't exactly get the feeling of the whole revelation thing that I just did, but on the confusion part of it, I guess I could say that we both weren't different in respect to that. Heck, my mind was figuratively blown by the thought of living in Westeros the rest of my life, but in time, I grew to accept it, even though I still didn't like the idea of it all. Now I'm not so sure about his decision, but what I'm sure was that it's gonna take alot of "blowing off steam" for him to be finally ready for what I would say.

Without continuing, he just pulled the door and walked briskly away into the hallway.

I was left there alone with even more trouble than I could've ever carried today.

Sleeping it off didn't help either, as I noticed that he still continued to ignore me the next day. On most occasions, he was usually waiting for me outside the courtyard or at the mess hall for his breakfast, but apparently, upon walking towards said areas to look for him, he wasn't even there.

I guess he really was pissed at me.

I couldn't blame him though. He had every right to be angry at me, just as much as Ben did, but it's not like I could mention that, "Hey, I'm Rory. By the way, I'm from the future and I'm hiding myself in the Night's Watch dressed as a guy." as a conversation starter either. This was one of those moments that I could say that I really didn't have a choice on the matter, and it's just up to me to make it up as I go.

In any case whatsoever, I've finally found him in the barracks, crouching on one corner, fixing up his boots, and also a couple of bystanders (including Grenn, Pyp and Sam) who were all preparing themselves for another day of training. This time, I could really tell that he was actually brooding over something. No jokes. No sarcasm. No out-of-the-tip-of-my-head remarks. This time, he was legit brooding.

And good God, it was all my fault.

I frowned. This was why I hate guys who have attitude problems.

Luckily, his back was turned against me and I'm sure he was unaware of my presence yet.

And so I did what's probably the dumbest idea I've ever made in my entire life.

"I challenge Jon Snow to a sparring match today." I bellowed.

Of course, everyone's heads whipped up to my direction, some were looking surprised, some grinning like I've just written myself a death warrant, though my mind was probably leaning towards that direction anyway. Still, Pyp and Grenn were all like WTF and approached me, and asking me what the hell's going on why I challenged him out of the blue.

Though I replied with a simple, "It's just something I have to do." I then walked a couple of steps towards his direction, and that's when he finally swung to his side and gave a look on my covered face.

The look he was giving was indiscernible. I didn't know if he was angry, mad, happy, whatever. All I know was when he looked at me, it's as if his time had stopped and everything became grinding gears on his head again, like he still didn't know what to do with me after he knew my secret.

I crossed my arms and bent one side of my hips. "Come on, afraid to take on a little challenge from little ol' me?"

A couple of guys behind us sniggered like I've pulled the biggest neener-neener out of my hat, and it was lock-on target with Jon's head. Though I still went on and ignored them altogether.

He didn't answer for awhile, just kept staring at me like he's trying to read my mind. But when he did, I did not expect to be figuratively bitch-slapped right back.

"You know you're going to lose, right?" He then said.

And the backup gangsters behind me "oooohed", pressing me out of the challenge. But I didn't care at that time.

"Trust me, I could kick your ass anytime as I please."

Another chorus of "oooohs", but it didn't take a while until he bit one back. "Trust you? I wonder how you are able to breathe with the word so easily when you couldn't even honor it like a man."

... Okay, that hurt. Like a lot. I was also floored. Like a lot. And the backup guys could only add insult to salted injury by laughing at the retort. And what's this? We're talking about the issue of trust now? God, how serious can this guy be? He's way worse than your post-modern emo kid with some sort of morbid fantasy about self-conflicted emotions.

Standing up, he had then finished everything by clasping the strands of his leather suit as he came into the racks to pick up his sword.

"So you're backing out then, eh?" I said, which triggered another set of murmurs.

He picked one up, oh but no, he ain't done yet. 'Cause of my motor-mouth, he went again to pick another. Scabbard and all. He also knew where I usually placed my training garbs (because, it was the smallest fit available and, for obvious hygienic reasons) and picked it up as well. All things in hand, he approached me with a seriously intimidating look. Crap. I think I just peed myself.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." He then pushed all of the belongings roughly to my arms, backing up slightly.

His eyes lingered a second too long before he walked away from the barracks.

A couple of guys hollered and crowed as they approached me one by one, patting me roughly on the back and praising me for being "the most entertaining dolt" they've ever seen. I, of course, was uncomfortable all in the same.

"Do you always do this, making people angry at you?" Sam said as the crowd slowly sobered and dissipated, leaving us, Pyp and Grenn the only ones inside.

I huffed. "Coincidentally Sam, it just so happened right after you joined us."

Flabbergasted, he shook his head dismissively. "Don't blame it on me."

"That's right." Grenn joined in. "Are you outta your mind? You ought to be lucky; he never challenged you to anythin'!"

Well, he's right about that part. Ever since the beginning of time, Jon had never really offered me to fight him. He usually does that to everyone else, except for me. Sam too when he came, unless of course, when Alliser forced us to. But it's not like he's giving his all when it comes to me or him.

"I think he's just going through something now, and somehow it's my fault." I meekly replied. "I did this just so he could blow off some steam— you know, take it out on me or something."

But just by thinking about it, there's also I remembered the idea that popped in my head when I thought about the whole changing thing. Oh God, what if he was furious at me that he decided to beat me to a freaking pulp? I mean, that was the idea all along, but what if I leave the courtyard with a black eye? A broken leg? One of my hands sliced off? Oh goodness, now I really need to pee.

"I think it's gonna take something harder than that." Sam said. "He was certainly... engrossed in his mind earlier during breakfast. I mean, he wouldn't even talk to us."

I didn't know if I did a scoff or a hiccup. "Yeah. Well, thanks for the uplift."

"Sorry."

A couple of minutes later, after strapping my gear on, we went outside. Surprisingly, the courtyard had somehow turned into a mini-coliseum. I walked on a small aisle with men who were cheering and chanting on either sides. Noticing the place, I could see almost every rookie soldier were here and some of the commanding officers (No Alliser or Mormont though). Apparently, I have attracted quite a crowd with my challenge. Although I didn't see the point of it.

I'm just going to lose badly anyway.

Jon was already at the center, testing the weight of his sword with a couple of swings. I felt up mine in my waist and it was agreeably light. I guess Jon didn't just pick the sword up from out of nowhere. It fitted me almost perfectly.

I ignored the hollers echoing behind me, and I only directed my attention to Jon, and he too was transfixed with mine. If he showed any anger towards me right now, he didn't. Though I knew by then that his face was full-on game mode. And I think he was ready to beat the shit out of me.

I approached the circle and huffed a breath, loosening my grip and just prepared for a beat-down. And yes, I'm totally stripping away all pretences of feminism here, so don't go judging on me if I let myself get pulped by a guy. And last time I checked, Game of Thrones doesn't play that way either, so it's a lose-lose situation for me nonetheless.

But of course, there weren't exactly any bell rings, or any call of referees to start the match, so I just stood there, braced myself, sword up and the best intimidating pose I could muster, and just let the gravity of pissing someone off do the work for me.

But it didn't happen. I noticed his pose was just as serious as mine, but the once impassive eyes now have a sense of confusion drawn towards them. Only if you look closely enough. And by the short amount of distance we both shared with each other, I could certainly tell that he was somehow conflicted with the whole thing.

"Hit me." I ushered.

No. I wasn't offering it like what they did to Sam before. There were no pity-glazed eyes or anything like that. This was different. I was challenging him.

I noticed in the slightest that he balled his sword-hand tighter, like he was controlling the urge to do something. And I knew he was faltering.

"Hit me." I said again, and by this time, I was already gritting my teeth.

The crowd became uncomfortable as I repeated it over and over. The sound of my voice became snarlier (if that's even a word) and louder and more aggressive as time went on. Neither of us were attacking. The cheers had slowly started to turn into murmurs, confused by everything, and then it faded away in silence.

My patience grew thin, and I know he was going to do it sooner or later as well. I felt the energy rising up to him, and with all the voice I could muster, I shouted at him.

"HIT ME!"

The only sound that was made beside the wind beneath the snow was my pretend-rage-howl and the scuffling off my boots above the snow. It was quick, but there was a growl that came from his side as well, and then there was a clashing of dull metal across dull metal. With his sword deftly sliding while it grinded against mine, the grip on my sword faltered like air. And I was completely disarmed. Eventually, I was elbowed to the head and then there was a hard kick on my gut, hurling out nothings (thank God I didn't ate breakfast) as I wrapped my hands over my stomach. To finish everything off, he landed another hit with his pommel to the back of my head, and I was thrown into the ground.

Pain came the instant I felt the cold tips of snow in my fingers. I retched and coughed out as I counted myself instantly down and out for the count. God, if he hit, he actually hit hard. And damn, I've never seen him do something this wincingly painful before. Not even when he juiced out Rast by the nose.

The moment I struggled to turn my head around, I could see the instant glimmer in his eyes that switched from anger to crestfallen, and that he had done what was probably the most uncharacteristic thing with a guy that's been living in what must've been the most honorific family in all of Westeros.

Yes Jon, you beat up a girl. Badly. I also practically made myself the living phenom of anti-feminists everywhere as well. But still, do you trust me now?

And then came the massive discomfort lingering in the air. The match wasn't a match at all. It was more like a one-sided bloody massacre if you'd ask me. Like, literally. I had blood gushing out of my nose, and the mask didn't help it any better than it did right now. The crowd wasn't "woohoo-ing" either. They just stood there like they've seen a disgusting gore movie rather than one starring Adam Sandler.

He went on to approach me, but then hesitated halfway. My sword that was discarded awhile ago was in his hand, tightening and loosening his grip on it as he contemplated over something. When he finally made up his mind, he but only tossed it towards my direction and left without uttering any word.

Sam went quickly to my aid, while Pyp and Green followed behind observing. They pulled me back up and I couldn't help but wince at the sudden ache in my back. Dammit, I've been hit by Mr. Rock again.

"Are you alright? You're bleeding." Sam inquired.

If it wasn't the most contradicting inquiry I've ever heard, I didn't know what is. I winced again. Gah, even in my deepest depths of pain I could still manage to be sarcastic.

"It's okay. I think I just need to fix this in my room." I said, while loosening the cuff on my mask, but I completely held a palm over my face just in case it suddenly falls or whatever. I walked it off like a proud but beaten man, and this time, I made sure I got my coat back on and I even urged them not to follow me back to my room if they feel worried about me.

Back in my room, I used the sharded mirror again to check out my ever wonderful face. With purple marks bruising my right eye when Alliser bitch-slapped me, I now have an additional battle scar over by the bridge of my nose. It was a nasty split, mind you. Utterly disgusting. Whatever the world says, us ladies will always have some sort of self-esteem when it comes to our faces. God, I hope they've invented a concealer right about now. Heaven knows how much I need it.

... But it's not like everybody'll see my face. I have a mask on anyways. Still, it's working on my self-conscious nerves every time I look at it. Ugh.

A knock came by my door, and I immediately tied the mask just under the split (a little higher than usual) this time. It hurts when I tried to breathe. I didn't know if I was inhaling carbon dioxide, oxygen, or the blood on my nose.

The door slowly creaked open, and Jon's head popped in.

We completely stared each other off, obviously I wasn't going to give in this time. Even though I have no means being angry with him, I still didn't know how he would take all of this so I have to be cautious. Jon Snow or not.

Inevitably, he let himself in and carefully shut the door behind him. He seemed a little hesitant at first— even a bit awkward if you squint— and I'm pretty sure he was waiting for me to speak before he does. Ugh. Men.

"Lock it." I said in my normal undertone. I picked up the keys and tossed it into the air. Jon caught it effortlessly while he fiddled with it, one brow raised. I rolled my eyes. "Look, I'm not going to rape you or anything. You can even stand by the door if you're that cautious. And I trust that you wouldn't do any funny business either. Deal?"

There goes that word again. Trust. Ah, why is it so easy for me to use that stupid word?

Albeit him having somewhat of a confused expression, he nodded simply though and went on locking the door. He had actually embraced the topic and walked until the center of the room, posture slightly tense and pensive. I knew that it would be utterly useless to play disguise around him anymore, so I had removed the mask yet again, eyeing him in front of me.

His startled eyes were evident; he obviously saw all of the bruise marks on my face so he took a step, only stopping again when he knew he shouldn't. Or so I thought.

"I'm sorry. I never should've taken it out on you." Jon had finally said, guilt ridden all over his face.

I raised a brow. "You mean these? Nah." I then chuckled and then dismissed a hand. "I only got the split lip and nose during our match. The rest was... well, the rest."

He shook his head, clearly defiant of what I'm trying to say to him. "Still, I never should've done that to you. What I did... it puts my code of honor into shame. What I did was unforgivable."

"Well, forget the whole code of honor-system doohickey and its rules; I forgive you." I sighed while rolling my eyes. His was more of a placid shock if anything. "And you should stop gaping like that. I don't want you drooling all over the place."

Jon took a moment to consider something. It's like he was figuring something out, but he wasn't even coming close to it. Eventually though, he blinked out of his stupor and then spoke. "I... I admit that I'm still confused of all this." He then regarded. "Your acceptance should be placed carefully, my lady. I have no intention—"

"Ok stop." I closed my eyes and paused for a bit, trying to control my annoyance. "First things first, please don't call me 'my lady' or any of that title crap. I mean I get why I let your uncle call me that 'cause of the whole maturity gap thing, but we're on the same level here. So please, just Rory, okay?"

"Second, it's no sweat, really." I assured him. "Unless, you don't want me to forgive you?"

His sullen pause was his answer, and I'm pretty sure he went on and acted like nothing had happened. Even though the hint on his face said otherwise. Whatever. His complexities in mind was just as hard to puzzle out like us women, so I better shelf the thought away for now.

"It's just that I was mad, and you kept on provoking me..." But then he stopped as if to assure me that he wasn't going to offend me, so he shook his head, dismissing the conversation and this time moved to a corner with his back against the wall. "You mentioned of my uncle." He then said, but I quickly drew up a question before he did.

"What did Ben say to you?" I had said, but then somehow regretting it. "I mean, I don't mean to pry. I was just curious."

Oh God, now we're getting shy with each other. What better way to ruin the moment, eh?

"No. It's fine." He implored, this time he was gaining a bit more confidence in himself. "He said to keep an eye on you, though purely it was for good reasons. I didn't know what that meant up until I found out who you are. I didn't ask him, but I was hoping you could provide me with some answers."

So Ben did leave some of his breadcrumbs before he left. And the whole "I'm keeping you to my side" business Jon did whenever we meet up. Unfortunately, Ben was still shy on giving out the full-frontal of explanations. Just his vagueness and mysteries again. I guess Jon would've been less curious if Ben would've somehow given him something to hold on to.

"Ok, shoot. Ask away."

I then gave him some time to think, although I already knew some of what he's going to ask. Again, I bet my silver coin that there would be a certain likeness to both Ben and his questions.

"I'd like for you to explain where you came from, and what are you doing here in this place?"

I sighed, but in a more of a readying way than an annoyed one. "First one's hard to explain. And to answer your second question, I'm stuck in this place."

He frowned.

"What?"

"Your answers were way too simple."

"So you want a story then?" I then buckled my legs and knees together as I patted the other side of the bed, urging him to sit down.

Okay, so this is it, I guess. From this point on, there's going to be a major character in the series who knows what I can do. I just hope I had revealed it in the right time, 'cause I was afraid that he might treat me like I'm some kind of witch and burn me to a stake. I kind of needed him to survive a little longer, so I just have to get on his good side just until I could start off. And if this doesn't bode well for me... Well, at least I tried, right?

"Well, Jon. You see, I'm not from this world."

A/N: thank you guys so much for all those reviews/follows/faves/PMs guys! You are so lovely and Gahhhh~ I just want to hug all of you guys so badly :3