Chapter Eleven: Wine, Laughter, and Tears
Aemili lay in her bed, eyes closed but far from sleep. She had been waiting hours for Theon to doze off, and finally it happened. His head propped up on his elbow, sitting in the wooden chair; most likely going to be sore in the morning, but Aemili could not care as long as he was asleep. She soundlessly moved from her bed, her bare feet touching down on the cold floor. It sent a shock through her body; she had to stifle a gasp. She hadn't known the hardwood to be so cold before, perhaps it was as the Stark's say, winter is coming, which means the nights get colder.
She crossed the room quickly, her hand on the knob. She had no doubt in her mind that the guards outside her door were awake, expecting her to try and escape, but she was still going to try.
Thankfully, the only guard awake was Julian, someone who she knew she could manipulate. "Good evening." She greeted as she quietly pulled the door closed behind her.
"Get back in your room Aemili."
"I would but Theon is in my bed, naked. Rather inappropriate. I came out here to ask if someone could wake him. I fear he might get the wrong idea if I tried." The lie came easily.
"I don't believe him. I shall go and wake him."
"Thank you." Julian walked towards the door, Aemili pretending she is following him. He opened the door and walked inside. She saw her chance and took it. Her bare feet hit the ground quickly as she ran down the hall, and down the stairs. She knew, from Robb, that her sister was in the infirmary, the place where Bran had spent many nights before he was moved to his room. She turned corners blindly, the halls so dark and empty, but she knew the way, and she would not stop until she had reached her desired destination.
"Stop!" Julian hollered down the hall from behind her. She could hear the sound of several men closing in on her. She was not good at this running thing. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, and she was not going as fast as she liked. Why did the infirmary have to be so far away? She cursed in her mind. She rounded a corner and turned right, when she should be going straight. The hall was so dark she could not see her hand in front of her face. She stuck close to the wall and bent down to the floor. They ran right past the hall, not glancing in her direction. They weren't fools, they knew where she was going, they did not expect her to change direction though, and Aemili had used it to her advantage.
"I suppose you thought that was terribly clever." Someone spoke from the shadows. Aemili, startled, fell onto her behind. She scrambled backwards as quickly as her hands would pull her. "No need to be frightened. I mean you no harm." The stranger still remaining hidden in the shadows but Aemili had a sneaking suspicion who the sarcastic voice belonged to.
"I've no reason to believe otherwise." She managed to scramble to her feet.
"I've already told you, it is not I who you should fear." He insisted. "Besides, I said I liked your mother best, that means I would not slay one of her children."
"Forgive me if I am having a hard time believing that." Aemili crossed her arms over her chest.
"Please, do I really seem like the type to murder someone?" He mocked.
"Should I remind you that you are skulking in the darkness?"
"You are here for the same reason I am."
"That's interesting, so you've been confined to your room for several days because there are certain persons wandering the halls ready to end your life? Something terrible has happened to someone you love and they have forbidden you from seeing her, once again locking you in your room? Oh that's right, that is me, not you." Aemili snapped.
"Interesting, so it is true then." He murmured.
"Is what true?"
"That the other twin has arrived. Well, things should get very interesting now."
"I did not say who it was! You are taking my words and twisting them!"
"Do you deny that the blood on that soldiers hand belongs to Magdalena Maddeson, your twin?"
Aemili was so pleased by the way that he worded his question. "Yes, I do." Had he asked it any other way and she could not have lied. The truth is she did not know whose blood it was she simply assumed it was her sisters, though it was almost certainly hers.
"Hmm." She could here him taking steps towards her. "Perhaps I should ask you a different question?" He threatened. She still could not see him but she could feel him in front of her, less then a foot away. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the question, hoping that it was another one she could answer truthfully. "Wine?" He asked. All of the air left her lungs, her knees went weak, and she nearly collapsed to the ground. The dangerous and feared question was so far from what she thought that she felt like laughing. "Is that a no then?" He asked. "I promise you I haven't poisoned it."
"I…" There was a commotion behind her.
"Spread out, we must find her before they do." Jory instructed. They were not far from her, if she had to guess they were just around the corner. So close, too close, and what better place to hide then with the person they would least suspect she would be with.
"Wine sounds lovely." She replied and in a hushed tone
"Wonderful. Follow me."
She waited for him to lead her away, but he made no sound. "Coming?" He called from a distance. She had not even realized he had moved. He was so quiet with his steps.
"Must you walk like a mouse? I cannot see a thing let alone hear anything." She wandered down the hall, hands outstretched so as not to bump into anything.
"One of the few upsides to being a dwarf, you can move soundlessly." Aemili felt guilty about her words. "I assure you being a dwarf is not what affected the sounds of my strides." He responds, now only a few strides in front of her. "I have many years practise form sneaking out to brothels and returning at obscene hours." She was unsure of how to respond. "Not far now. Here, take my hand." Before she could respond his was entwined with hers. She was shocked at how warm and soft his hand was, and how safe she felt holding it. She was holding a Lannister's hand and she felt safe, was that even possible? But somehow, walking down this shadowed hallway, her hand in Tyrion Lannister's, she felt a strange emotion, one that she never thought she would feel for a Lannister. Affection, to a man who was suppose to be in her life as he is now.
A door opened, blinding Aemili with the quick change from darkness to light. "Best hurry before they see you." He teased. Aemili stepped into the room quickly. Tyrion followed, shutting the door behind them. There were candles on every surface of the room, the fire was lit and burning brightly. Beside his bed was an impressive collection of books, some with titles in a language she did not recognize.
"You read?" She asks as she brushes her fingers over the spines.
"Do not sound so surprised. I may have been born short but I was not born stupid." He pours wine into two metal goblets.
"I didn't mean it like that." She urges. "I just meant…" What had she meant?
"You have heard stories of the Imp. A man who is always drunk and visiting brothels." He hands her a goblet.
"Thank you."
"There is not talk of Tyrion, the fairly intelligent man who enjoys reading. Stories like that are dull, they do not make for good gossip." He takes a large sip from his wine.
"I apologize. I suppose that is what I meant."
"You cannot be blamed for the prying whispers of those around you." He sits himself in one of two wooden chairs in the room. "Please, make yourself comfortable." Aemili's eyes flitted to the doorway, afraid of who might come barging in at any second. "They've turned in for the night, do not expect to see them until morning." His eyes twinkle with humour.
"How can you be so sure?" She asks but sits on the other chair anyway.
"I've known them me entire life. They both value their beauty sleep, besides, they know better then to walk into my room without knocking. Never know what they might find inside." He grinned mischievously over his goblet.
"And I wonder how those prying whispers came to be." Aemili races the goblet to her lips, and smells the wine. Fruity; though she is unsure of what poison would smell like.
"You saw me poor it from the same bottle I poured mine from. Would I really be stupid enough to poison myself?"
"Sorry, but could you really blame me for being fearful of a Lannister luring me to their bed chambers and giving me a goblet of wine?"
"True, but I've already made my intentions of not killing you very clear."
"Strange enough, I trust that you won't." She downed the entire contents of her cup quickly, thirsting for me.
"You like your wine." He gets up and grabs the bottle.
"Would you believe I've never had any before?" He comes over and refills her cup.
"That's outrageous! How have you sustained so long without even a sip of this delicious nectar?"
"My parents don't allow us to have wine, not that it stops my sister." Tyrion sits back down, but keeps the bottle in his hand.
"Lisette was never fond of wine or drunks, yet she still stood by me." He quickly gulps his entire cup of wine. "She never turned her back on me, no matter how drunk or awful I was to her." He refilled his cup quickly. "I suppose you'd like to know how hard it was to turn my back on her." It was Aemili's turn to down her quick in guilt. Tyrion leaned over and refilled it immediately. "It was actually quite easy."
"What? But you said you and her were so close?"
"It did not matter, not when she chose your father over I." He gazes at the liquid in his cup. "I spent many years hating her, and when I was done with hating her I loathed her." The wine was already starting to affect her but she refused to stop drinking. She liked the taste and if she was being totally honest she felt mature drinking the wine. "She had found that one person in the world who she would give up everything for."
"You don't honestly believe that rubbish do you?" Aemili snorted, the wine having removed whatever word filter she usually had.
"What?"
"That there is love in this world so strong and perfect that you would drop everything for that person and still be happy, no matter the consequences."
"Are your parents not a prime example of love like that?"
"From your point of view, maybe, but not mine. I see a woman who was so fond of a man that she 'disobeyed' her domineering father and was thrown out on her ass for it. But really, I would do the same with a father like Tywin, especially if it meant a palace in the safest place in all the seven kingdoms." Aemili went to take another drink from her goblet only to find that it was empty. She smiled sweetly and held the cup out for a refill.
"You might want to slow down." He advises, though he is a glass ahead of her. "So, you don't think the love your parents have for each other is sincere. How fascinating."
"That is not what I said. Sure, they love each other but not that love you speak of. That love does not exist."
"A Maddeson, the family that marries for love, who doesn't believe in true love. There is something poetic and comical about that." Aemili swirled the drink in her hand, watching as a few droplets spilled onto her hand. The wine the color of blood, blood on the guards hands.
"My sister is here." She said.
"I figured as much."
"Something has happened to her."
"So, the blood was hers."
"I don't know. I don't know anything. They won't let me see her."
"Probably best that way."
"Everyone keeps saying that!" Aemili snapped. "If something has happened I deserve to see her! I must know what is going on!"
"Lower your voice, unless you would like your hiding place to be revealed."
"Stupid Mags, always being so reckless. Stupid, beautiful Mags." Aemili had been clutching her goblet so tightly, the sloshed droplets lubricating her hand, the goblet slipped from her grip and landed in her lap, spilling all over her canary yellow dress. "Seven Hells!" She swore as she stood up quickly, the goblet clanking to the floor.
"You've gone and ruined your pretty dress." Tyrion sets the bottle and his own cup on the table. He goes to his dresser and pulls out a simple brown dress. "Here."
"Why do you have a woman's dress lurking in your drawers?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Aemili regrets the question. There is only one reason he'd have a woman's dress in his possession, either a whore of his left it behind or he kept it to send her off with in case something happened to her clothes. Aemili sniffed the dress, hoping it did not reek of the whore who may have previously owned it. "It hasn't been worn, I promise." The dress was there for the latter then. "I'll turn around while you change." He turned so his back was to her.
Aemili felt so vulnerable and uncomfortable changing with him in the room, regardless of his back turned or not. She had never been so exposed with a man in the woman before as she was now. Quickly, she pulled her stained dress from her body and dropped it on the floor. Then, as fast as her hands would let her she pulled on the brown dress. Somehow it fit perfectly, hugging her torso like a glove, ending once it reaches the floor, unlike her usual dresses which she had to hold while she walked so as not to trip. The neckline was straight cut, and considerably modest for whom the dress was intended, and the sleeves were long, ending at her wrists. The dress was beautiful in all its simplicity, and made from a rich fabric, one she had only ever worn while wearing her special occasion dresses.
"Can I turn around?" Tyrion asked.
"Yes." Aemili answered as she ran her hand along the fabric at her stomach. It was so blissfully soft.
"You look just like your mother." Tyrion smiles as he looks her over in the dress.
"That I find very hard to believe."
"You have her smile." He sips from his goblet.
"You have her… hair." This causes Tyrion to spit a mouthful of wine out sending Aemili into a fit of laughter, making Tyrion also burst out laughing.
They both clutch their sides, their stomachs and cheeks soar from laughing so hard. "It wasn't all that funny." Tyrion says as he pants.
"Your reaction was." Aemili stomach tight from the laugh attack.
"It was such a strange observation."
"You do though." She lays down on his bed, dizzy from the wine and laughing.
"Tired?" Tyrion asks as he pulls her goblet from her hand.
Aemili rolls onto her side, unable to keep her eyes open. "Yes." She answers sleepily.
Tyrion says something to her but the words sound blurry in her ears. Sleep is tugging at her, she cannot fight it. She allows herself to fall into the darkness.
Aemili awoke the next morning with an awful banging in her head. Her surroundings were strange, her mouth felt fuzzy, and she was not alone in the room. There was a light snoring coming from the floor. Slowly, she sat up and looked down, finding Tyrion Lannister asleep in a makeshift bed. He had his thick feather comforter underneath him, one of two pillows, and small knitted throw to cover up with. Aemili's fear of the Lannister's struck her quickly, and then the previous night's events flooded her. Talking with Tyrion, drinking with Tyrion, laughing with Tyrion, then falling asleep in Tyrion's bed.
She knew it still had to be early in the day judging by the lack of sunlight. More likely just after sunrise. Aemili quickly slipped from the bed, noting that Tyrion had covered her up with a blanket similar to the one he was using. She crossed the room on her toes, willing herself to be as soundless as possible. Quietly she cracked the door open just enough for her to slip out. Once safely on the other side of the door, with it firmly closed she turned to walk away right into someone.
Aemili looked up into the cold, blue eyes of Robb Stark.
"This is not what it looks like." She defended quickly.
As if the situation could not be made any worse, Tyrion opens the door holding Aemili's dress. "You've forgotten this." He smirks as he hands it to her. "Thanks for a great night." He smiles lazily, places a kiss on her hand then goes back into his room.
Aemili can see the judgement and disgust in Robb's eyes. He turns and quickly walks away. "Wait!" She calls after him. He does not stop. She gathers the large yellow dress and runs to him. "Robb please!" She begs as she catches up, grabbing his arm. "Nothing happened!" She urges. He rips his arm away, causing tears to sting her eyes. "I didn't do anything! Please!" She shouts.
"It did not look like nothing Aemili! You were sneaking out of Tyrion Lannister's bed chambers at an outrageous hour, then he hands you your dress, your dress Aemili, and thanks you for a great night. I see no other way it cannot be exactly as it is."
"We were just talking. I promise you that is all." A tear slides down her cheek.
"Talking does not involve taking your clothes off."
"I spilled wine on my dress. See!" She unravels the dress to reveal the large wine stain. "Please Robb believe me." She begs. Robb assess the dress but does not seem convinced.
"Why were you spending the night with a Lannister? My father has had his guards watching you around the clock rather then doing their duties guarding Winterfell and here you are drinking with one of those people they are trying to protect you from. It is a slap in the face what you have just done."
"Tyrion was never the threat, you and I both know it."
"Regardless, he is a Lannister."
"He is kind to me! He has made me smile like I have not in so long! I am not sorry for it."
"Then you are not the Aemili I have come to know."
"The Robb Stark I have grown to like would not be so cold and hostile about it. Tyrion is my family, whether you like it or not, and he has acted like it."
"Family does not insinuate that they have had sex with one and other!"
"It is how he is! A man who likes his jokes, no matter how perverse they are!"
"Why are you defending him!"
"Why are you so against him!"
Robb takes a step back and removes all emotion from his face. "You should return to your chambers, you've had everyone worried."
"Robb-"
"Go Aemili."
Without another word Aemili makes the walk back to her room, trying to hold back the tears. That was the second person she cared deeply for that she had hurt greatly.