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Another few nights passed, and each night Jon came to her room. Though nothing scandalous had ever occurred, however much she might desire it to be so, tales had begun to spread. She knew his brothers stared whenever they were together, though they were different states than the ones when he was not by her side. And each time she was thankful for the guards and dire wolf that surrounded her, for all the knives she could hide on her person would not save her from hordes of lustful men.
Brutish men who desired nothing more than to violate every inch of her body, to hear her scream and cry and plead and beg. Never again, she swore to herself, no man will see me cry again, not unless my tears bring them to their knees.
When the door opened she did not need to look up to know it was Jon, but did so anyway, to find him looking uncannily happy.
"Good news?"
"A letter from Stannis," Jon revealed, "He has taken Deepwood Motte."
Letting out a gleeful laugh, she practically jumped from her chair to fling herself towards him, causing him to stumble back in surprise, but wrap his own arms around her none-the-less.
"We might win this yet." She said, extracting herself from his arms to scoop her son up in her own, "Did you hear that, Ed, the king has thrown out the Ironborn."
"Don't let Edd hear you call him that," Jon teased, "He might think it's after him."
"He'd love to have such an honour." She replied, gently swaying with Eddard in her arms, "How long will it take Stannis to march on Winterfell?"
"Half a month to a month," he answered, "It depends on the weather, longer perhaps."
"But before I will be able to join them."
"You don't need to join Stannis." He told her, "He had five thousand men now, and his numbers grow. He has his commanders. There will be nothing you can do."
"Ha," she scoffed, "Why is it always men who tell me I can do nothing?" She asked, "If time permits I will join Stannis, and I will fight beside my men."
"And what of your son?" Jon asked, "You can hardly take him to the war camp. It is no place for a babe."
Who is he to ask on the safety of my child, she thought, he is not Eddard's father, he has no right to presume he has a say.
"I know that." She retorted, "I will leave him here, Taenella will care for him. And Willam and Rickard will also remain, alongside Maester Corren and men to protect them."
"Then you will have no men to take to Stannis anyway."
It was a valid argument, which only seemed to anger her further. She did not want to pay any mind to his reasonings if they did not support her own.
"I will have supplies." She said, "I will write to my brother in Braavos, tell him to use what remains of my belongings there to buy food and send it across."
I am not so useless now, she thought, I will show you and Stannis that I will not be put in the corner and relegated to mother and nothing else.
"Why are you so intent on going?"
"Why are you so intent on me staying?"
But Jon did not give her an answer, merely clenching his jaw, looking away from her and at her son, who had broken out into cries at the sound of their raised voices. Shushing him as she rocked him in her arms, casting a glare towards Jon. It was not his fault, she knew, but she needed someone to blame other than herself.
"I just want you and Eddard to be safe." He said, softly, his eyes on the floor, "You are safe here."
"Safety's overrated." She replied, offering him a small smile
I may forgive him yet if our safety is all he desires, she thought, so long as he does not think to offer protection where it is not needed. After all, there were very few who wanted them safe purely out of love. The others all desired power for themselves. King Stannis and the Northern lords. I can only trust Jon and Harlon, she reminded herself, blood binds us, and blood will keep them loyal.
"Tell me of your day then." She said, turning to place Eddard down on the bed, moving to lay beside him, "Did all go well with the men saying their vows?"
"We ran in to some Free Folk, but they were convinced to join us." Jon said, though he did not join them on the bed, "They brought a giant with them, Wun Wun."
"A giant." She said, her eyes bright with curiosity, "Might I meet him, I've never seen a giant before?" She asked, "Or is it a her? I shouldn't presume to know the naming customs of giants."
"Yes, you may meet him." Jon chuckled, "Though he only speaks the Old Tongue."
"Then I might test out my lessons," she replied, "I fear Val does not give truthful feedback."
"I do not think Val would lie."
Not like I would you mean. But she swallowed the words, along with her jealousy. Jon could think of Val however he wanted, it mattered not to her. Yes it does.
"Did Stannis say anything else?"
"He gave his congratulations," Jon answered, "For the birth of Eddard."
"Which I am sure were as unemotional as can be." She replied, the smile falling from her face, "What are his chances, Jon?"
"He has the Mountain Clans, the Karstark's, the Umbers and the Mormonts." He said, "When the others learn of Eddard, they will join him."
That left the Ryswells and the Dustins on Roose's side, they were tied by blood, and perhaps his only true supporters. The Tallharts and the Cerwyns lost their lords and heirs to the war, and now were ruled by ladies. One a child and captive, the other an unmarried woman of three and ten. Their houses would die with them, she thought, just as House Hornwood died with Lady Donella.
There were Tallhart cousin's, Brandon and Beren, though which was older she knew not. One could marry Eddara, and a lesser lord would surely take Jonelle and the Cerwyn name.
"And if they know it was Ramsay Snow who burned Winterfell," she said, "And killed Ser Rodrick's forces."
"Theon did that." Jon said through gritted teeth, "Who told you otherwise?"
"Lord Manderly." She answered, "He has one of Theon's squires."
"If you have spoken to Lord Manderly, then why did he not join Stannis?"
It was only then that she released that she had revealed the extent of her deceit, and wished that she did not find it so easy to forget herself when with Jon.
"Lord Manderly plans on turning cloak on the Bolton's, plans which will hopefully be spurred on by my son's birth." She explained, "Though, he of course does not make plans he thinks will not benefit him."
"And how does turning at the last moment benefit him?" Jon asked, "Stannis will take it as a slight."
"If I and Lord Manderly are instrumental in winning Winterfell, Stannis will not be able to oppose either of us." She said, "Eddard is only a babe, it will be eighteen years until he will rule. Who do you think will rule until then?"
"You." Jon said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world,
"I am a woman, and a foreigner, a fact not lost on the Northern lords." She said, "If we win, there will be a mad scramble for which lord will have the most influence over me. Manderly fears that Harlon will take the spot as top advisor, a spot he wishes to claim for himself."
"Should you not reward more loyal men?"
"Lord Manderly will be the most powerful northern lord. I will need him by my side." She said, "I agreed to betroth his granddaughter Wylla, to Willam, as a step of solidifying our alliance."
"But Willam is a lesser lord than Manderly." Jon pointed out, "It's hardly an equal match."
"Yes, but Willam is my step-son, and thus, kin to Eddard." She explained, "This way, the influence of the Flint's is tied with that of the Manderly's."
"And does Willam know about this?"
"Yes, I have told him." She said, "He seems to think well enough of it. He spent time with her as a child. I do hope it will be a happy marriage."
It seemed hypocritical of her to arrange Willam's marriage, when she herself had chosen both her husband's. But he understood that it was the way of nobility. He knew what his duty was.
"Why didn't you tell Stannis?"
Though there was no clear answer to his question, she knew she would have to offer him some sort of explanation.
"I do not trust Manderly to be good on his word," she said, "And did not wish for Stannis to hinge his plans on false hope."
There was some truth in it, though how much she did not know. Perhaps I am punishing Stannis for his lack of trust in me, she mused, or perhaps I just do not trust anyone anymore.
"You should have told me." He bitterly replied, turning his back to her
And what would you have said to my deception, she thought, where is the honour in lies, after all? He would demand I tell Stannis and then where would I be. No, a queen must keep her plans close to her chest, and shroud them when necessary.
"I'm sorry." Layla said, softly, "You are right. I should not keep things from you. I swear, I hide nothing else."
"But Jon, I would ask for more than your forgiveness." She continued, waiting until he looked upon her unguarded face before speaking further, "If I am to join Stannis, I must train. It has been too long since I have fought."
"Surely one of your men-"
"I would trust no other with this," she pleaded, "Jon, please, I need your help."
The sound of her desperation was more than enough to convince him. If he resists further I will use Eddard as my excuse, she planned, if he cares for our safety he will not deny me this.
"Fine." He muttered, "I will see what I can do."
She might have thought it a victory, if he had spared her another glance before stalking from the room. He will forgive me, how can he not, she assured herself, all I do, I do for my son. He will understand, he must.
Response to review from Arianna Le Fay:
If you want to see them together then read my story Dragon and Wolves, but right now that story's completely separate from this one, but the answer to if Dany's barren will be revealed in future chapters of that story.
In this story, her and Jon may get together, they may not. You'll have to wait and see
Response to review from Billy:
I think you might like the next chapter, because it addresses much of the issues between them. And I am aiming for it to come across as a but weird, because she's not really in a great place, and I don't want her to seem justified
As of right now, her and Jon are not in love because they still love other people, and they definitely won't be getting together anytime soon. What may happen in the future, I can't say