A/N: Trigger warning: Anxiety, Anxiety attacks etc. This chapter was hard for me to write because to an extent I'm writing from personal experience. I'm writing from my own anxiety attacks and my own life, especially about the father part. I'm welling up writing as I type this even, so I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 3
Her head was spinning as she pushed her way back through the crowd to her quarters. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion; like she'd been spinning round for hours and had only now had the chance to stop. Her feet, while hitting the floor, felt like there was nothing supporting them. Bile was threatening to creep up her throat and she was sure it was being aided by the stale bread at breakfast. Making it to her cabin felt like a godsend as she slammed the door behind her, chest heaving with sobbing breaths. Tears streamed down her face and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the heart-wrenching noises she was making. Her chest started to heave faster and faster until she realised her body was turning to a state of panic. She wasn't able to breathe, or at least she thought she wasn't. Her lungs were sucking in air desperately and her shoulders started shaking and heaving with the wracking breaths. She slunk down beside her bed nestled into the corner between her chest and her folded sheets. She eyed the bed in the corner of the room now realising that it was her father's, not her brothers. Her brother didn't know how to write. Her shoulders were still trembling and her blind panic in full swing when Jon burst into the room- accompanied by her father. Jon slammed the door behind him, his eyes scanning the room and growing frosty and scared when he saw what a state his friend was in. He had seen her like this before, only a few times. Once, after she was brought back to Winterfell for the first time by his father; The second was after the incident with Lord Karstark's son and the third and fourth were the days surrounding the incident with Theon and Joffrey. He knew how to handle Arielle when she got like this.
Jon moved to Arielle who had yet to acknowledge his existence, her eyes blank and unseeing. He hauled her off the ground and bundled her into his arms, rocking her backwards and forwards in careful motions. His hands cradled her head and her legs as he stroked her hair in a repetitive rhythm, whispering sweet words of encouragement with his lips pressed against the top of her head. Her father simply watched in bewilderment. Arielle however was not calming, her tears flowing at an even faster rate and her hyperventilation becoming dangerously fast. She was not able to take in a breath at this rate, her body seeming to reject normal function. She would faint fairly soon if she did not breathe. Arielle had vaguely registered being held by someone, her head now focusing on the fact that she couldn't breathe. She felt like the world was ending and that she was going to die. Jon knew the only other thing that would calm her down, and whilst he loathed doing it in front of her father, it was the only way he knew how. He started to sing. It was the lullaby that Arielle's father used to sing to her when he was little to help her go to sleep. Jon had tried it with her when he had heard her sing it to Arya one night when she was very young. After asking her about it, he had tried singing it on her second panic attack. It had worked well.
Arielle's eyes darted upwards to meet Jon's as soon as the first word had left his lips, her eyes now transfixed on his. The pair stared at each other as Jon sung lowly, so that only she could hear, her once racking breaths dying down to the point where she was mouthing the words in time with him, tears still streaming down her face. Iain, in the corner, was transfixed on the scene. He was unable to hear the exchange between the two, too bemused by the fact that his daughter was in front of him to even be able to think. He could not help but to stand and stare, his feet not compelling him to move. The sound of sobbing had left the room now and was replaced with silent tears. Arielle's eyes would not stop leaking. She smiled grimly as she snuggled deeper into Jon's chest, the previous anxiety being replaced with a dull ache in her chest from the exertion. Her throat burned as she had not swallowed and was left raw and dry with the air flow. Her head throbbed and pounded in her skull, and she felt like she had drunk nightshade.
Jon and Arielle's eyes were locked, until she drew them to the corner of the room where her father stood. She removed herself from Jon's embrace and suddenly missed the warmth and comfort he provided. She drew closer to her father until he was no more than a metre away. She stared at his face. In reality, he had not changed much. His eyes had drooped and his once smooth face was now creased with age. His blue eyes still sparkled from beneath his bushy white brows. The only thing that Arielle could really call new was the beard sprouting from his chin and jaw. Her eyes flickered to his hands, and noted the same missing chunk of flesh from when she was a young girl. It had happened in a smithing accident, one that Arielle remembered vividly. He had burnt away his flesh on hot metal trying to stop her from playing with a freshly forged sword. She was only 7.
"Elle…" He spoke. Arielle froze and her eyes snapped to his face. Tears were dripping down his cheeks, and her heart wrenched as he used his old nickname for her, the one that Jon seemed to have adopted as his own. A sudden burst of rage flew through Arielle. How dare he come back into her life like this!
"No. You don't get to call me that. Not now, not ever again. I waited for you, for hours! It felt like the longest wait of my life, and here you are! Where the fucking hell did you go?!" Arielle's voice grew stronger and stronger as she shouted at her father. "You left me out there to die in the forest at night! And you know what, I nearly did! I was nearly raped and murdered but if it wasn't for Eddard Stark, who by the way sent out over 100 men to search for you, I would have starved to death in that forest alone! And you have the audacity to think that this will be some touching family reunion?! NO! I won't let you do that to me!" Arielle had a defiant and angry look on her face, one that sent her father into shock. He looked aghast and took a step back, raising his hands at his hellfire daughter. She had definitely grown, both in spirit and in body. Even though disguised as a boy, she still had a petite shape to her, and a decidedly feminine face under her newly shaggy mane. Her jawline was sharper than he remembered, and her nose slightly more crooked, possibly from an injury, but it was definitely her. "You don't get to come back into my life thinking that everything will be fine because it's not! I thought you left me, I thought you left me on purpose!" Arielle's voice grew thick and she stopped, tears threatening to spill over once more. Her father seemed to take this as a cue to step forward, only to recoil when Arielle shrugged off his approaching hand. He looked hurt.
A sense of anger was still growing in Arielle, which she knew was partly irrational. However, this was years of abandonment and hurt coming out in the only way she knew how. She turned away from her father and spoke quietly "Please, just go." She almost wished he would stay, wished he would persevere and fight for her, like he should have done all those years ago, but was left dismayed and heartbroken when she heard the door open and slam shut. She bowed her head in sadness, scrunching her hands into fists by her side until her nails drew blood. She couldn't take this anymore, any of it. She couldn't take Cersei, the Night's Watch, her father, her brother, Jon, any of it. She lashed out with her foot and began kicking the bed frame repeatedly, teeth gritted and arms thrashing about. She was on a mission to destroy something. Spit was flying from her mouth and she let out an animalistic growl every time her foot made contact with the bed. Her face grew red with anger and exertion. Jon took this as the cue to stop her. As his forceful arms wrapped round her to restrain her, she thrashed about. She fought against his grip with every ounce of her pathetic might, cursing in a way that Jon had never heard form a lady before. She growled and hissed until her energy seemed to leave her and she seemed to slump in Jon's arms. Her sobbing had returned once again but this time it was silent and full of hurt, rather than panic. Her weight brought the two of them to the floor, and once again, Jon sat cradling the crying girl.
Whilst he himself had nothing against Iain Sixsmith, he had heard tales of him off Arielle and knew of the pain he had caused her. Out of principle, Jon should hate him. He couldn't bring himself to feel that way however, and was instead devising a way to get Arielle back into her father's life willingly. He needed to talk to Iain, alone, that much was obvious. He thought it wrong that Arielle reacted the way she did without considering the whole story but then again, she was struggling, a lot, and this had tipped her over the edge. He noticed her sobbing had stopped and her breathing had become regular. She was sleeping. Jon lifted her petite frame into bed once more and set her down gently on the covers. She wined when the heat of his body was denied to her, only to snuggle further into her duvet. It was at times like these when she reminded him of ghost, acting like an innocent puppy. He chuckled to himself as he left her to sleep. If anyone would ask for Eli's whereabouts, he would make something up. He would do anything for Arielle.
Stepping out of his cabin, he almost ran into Iain, who was leaning against the wall. Jon looked at him with pity. "Please… let me explain…" Jon held a hand up, and gestured inside, pressing a finger to his lips indicating that Iain should be quiet, he nodded then signaled for Iain to follow him. When they were further into the courtyard, Iain spoke. "Jon. Jon Snow. I know what you must think of me, but before you leap to any conclusions please hear my story." Jon simply nodded, an indicator for him to continue.
"The night when I left Arielle alone in the forest, I left her with a dagger. I left her for no more than what I hoped would be only a moment. I had no idea what would happen to me. A group of raiders spotted me and beat me until I passed out. When I awoke, it was the morning, and I was naked. I couldn't believe what had happened, I was horrified. I ran back to the camp that Arielle and I had set up, even with a broken leg, which believe me was damned near impossible, and I saw that dead man and I tried to find my daughter. I tried so hard. For days I walked, without food, without any clue of my direction, until the snowfall. I almost died, until Commander Mormont found me. He brought me here and that was that. I went through hell trying to find her, and I would do it a thousand times more. I didn't mean to never come back. I meant to be with my daughter. I want her back. God I want her back." Iain was crying by the end of his tale, and Jon felt a pang of pity for the older man. It truly was not his fault; it was circumstance that prevented his return. Jon nodded and patted the older man on the shoulder once.
"Don't worry. She's just hurting. She has a lot to deal with, and this? This just tipped her over. Of course she's hurt, anyone would be, but she just needs time. I'll work on her. In the meantime, keep your distance. Her identity is secret. Nobody can know who she truly is. To you, she is Eli Broderick, your bunk mate. That is all." Iain nodded as Jon spoke, with a tone of command. He heated to be like this with his daughter but he knew he had no choice. Jon however was trying to work out the best way to get Arielle to talk with her father. Whilst he knew it could go horrifically wrong between them, he had to at least try?