"We had no ending,
no said goodbye.
For all my life,
I'll wonder why."
AGONY. That was the only word Ireyne could think of to describe her last few days at Winterfell. Each day, she would break her fast in the Great Hall, sometimes with a few Starks but mostly with her own kin, pray in the small sept that Winterfell offered, and return to her chambers where she would either observe Vaera pack her belongings, or count down the moments until she'd see Jon again.
It was a tedious set up - Ireyne would sometimes nearly laugh at how their situation now mimicked that of her first days here, when she and Jon had been absolute strangers, bound by a fragile thread of intrigue yet separated by a sturdy barrier of status. It amazed her, still, even now, after days of having been acquainted with him so intimately, how they both had drifted towards each other so soon, so urgently, so passionately.
The golden haired girl wandered aimlessly around her chambers. She wondered what King's Landing would feel like now, what her days would be like without Jon, what she would face once she went back. Her own thoughts were enough to make her feel lightheaded, like the room was closing in on her, desperate to crush her soul and turn her bones to dust.
Ireyne shook her head restlessly, reaching the small table in the center of her chambers to pour herself a cup of water. She stood there, a hand braced on the wooden table, as she drank deeply from her cup, willing her anxious mind to unwind.
"Something bothering you?" a deep yet jovial voice floated in from the doorway, a voice she hadn't heard much over the past few weeks. Ireyne didn't need to look over her shoulder to know who it was.
"Yes – you are."
"How could a man of such enjoyable company possibly be bothersome?"
Ireyne smiled to herself as she placed the glass vessel down with a soft clink. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Tyrion silently asking her permission to enter the room. At Ireyne's nod, he made his way towards the pair of chairs in front of the fireplace. "Might I ask why exactly are you gracing me with your presence, Tyrion?"
Tyrion raised his brows. "So you admit that my company is enjoyable?"
"Either your ears aren't functioning properly, or you've lost capability to understand my words," Ireyne answered him, taking the seat opposite her brother. "Nevertheless, it is nice to see you alive and well,"
"Much to our Father's dismay," Tyrion only half-joked, "he would've been much happier had I just frozen myself to death here."
"Strange, I always had the impression that you never cared much for Father's happiness."
"And nor he for mine. It is a mutual sentiment, you see," her brother countered with a bright smile yet Ireyne could see the subtle anger underneath. Evidently, Tyrion wasn't done talking yet for he continued, "which is probably why he wouldn't be the least bit bothered should I not return home immediately."
Ireyne's brows knitted in confusion. "And what is that supposed to imply?"
"It implies, dear sister, that I won't be accompanying this fabulous entourage back to King's Landing."
"Then where will you be going?" asked Ireyne, thoroughly bewildered as to what Tyrion had planned for himself.
"North." He stated brightly. "As far North as North goes, or at least as North as we humans can go."
Ireyne now had an inkling of where Tyrion's detour was leading him, but she was unsure all the same. Under her persistently questioning stare, Tyrion eventually disclosed his plan. "I am going to go and witness the most wondrous monstrosity ever built by mankind – the bloody ice Wall."
"Oh."
Ireyne found herself unable to say much else. The Wall had been brought up a number of times in her conversations with Jon; she resented the Wall now. Why her brother wanted to go see such a structure was beyond her – from what she had heard and read, the Wall was a colossal mass of ice that was so high one could get a crick in the neck just from staring up at it. But perhaps that was the appeal?
"You are very unusually quiet."
Ireyne realized belatedly that she hadn't responded to Tyrion yet who was waiting for her reaction to the news. "I'm just wondering how you'll get there all by yourself," she answered him slowly.
"Not 'all by myself' actually," Tyrion clarified, "Ned Stark's bastard is, if you haven't heard, joining the Night's Watch, leaving with his uncle the day we do too."
Ireyne stiffened.
"I shall accompany them to the Wall, stay there a while, and then, unfortunately, return back to King's Landing."
"I see," she nodded, "very well. Safe travels then, I suppose?"
Tyrion observed Ireyne silently, only nodding his head in acknowledgment of her words. He noticed the way her hands suddenly began fidgeting with the silk of her skirt, saw her face drain itself of color, noted her green eyes staring into the fire broodingly. It reminded him of how, when she was a child of no more than ten, Ireyne would sullenly sit upon the steps of the gardens at the Red Keep whenever things refused to happen the way she had willed. She would sit there, always upon the fifth step and near the pink peony bushes, fiddling with the ends of her skirt and staring holes into the concrete floor; she could sit there for hours on end, until it got too late and the faint slivers of moonlight weren't enough for the young girl to brave the then shadowy gardens by herself.
Ireyne was stubborn, he knew that all too well – she was stubborn and determined and passionate. Tyrion feared her intense personality would become her eventual downfall.
"Ireyne?"
The girl in question merely hummed in response, not even sparing him a glance.
"You aren't being yourself these days. And I never see you except at the occasional supper, you-"
She laughed lightly, cutting him off. "You've been in Winter Town most of these days, of course you haven't seen me much."
It was true, he hadn't stayed in Winterfell much at all, opting to spend the majority of his time in the cozy confines of the thriving brothel in an otherwise deserted town that surrounded the stone castle. Nevertheless, on the rare occasion that he had found himself amongst the unsolicited company of Starks and Lannisters, Tyrion had noticed Ireyne being exceedingly detached and distracted, her gaze finding a certain bastard's more often than not.
"Being young is no easy task, dear sister," he finally said, carefully measuring his words, "but being young and in love? That is the epitome of catastrophe."
Tyrion could tell by the way in which her wide eyes flew to meet his that he had said the right thing. She didn't say a word yet her silence spoke volumes. He wondered how long ago she had realized this, and whether she had acted on such sentiments. Tyrion could only hope she hadn't.
"Why is it a catastrophe?" Ireyne wondered out loud. "It doesn't seem like a 'catastrophe' in books and ballads and stories that one hears..."
Tyrion almost smiled. "But one must also remember that stories are, after all, stories – lies disguised as fantasies, an ideal prospect that seldom exists. It is best to not think that one's own life would ever turn out to to be like a romantic ballad – our world does not permit it."
Ireyne turned her head away, blinking quickly. "What does our world permit, then?"
Now Tyrion did smile; he smiled gloomily. "Nothing you wish it would, and everything you wish it wouldn't."
IT was much later, when the winds became even colder than they had been that morning, that Ireyne found herself back on the other side of the door to Jon's chambers. She was aware that it was far far too late, the moon too high in the sky. They had to wake up early tomorrow for tomorrow was the day. Her dresses had all been washed and dried and carefully packed away, so were her boots, as well as her scarves and cloaks and ribbons.
Her last supper at Winterfell that night had required Ireyne to speak to far more people than she would've liked. Sansa had reminded her of her promise to show the Stark girl around the Red Keep. Vaera reminded her to sleep early. Jaime reminded her that they were to leave before the sun reached its peak tomorrow morning. Tyrion reminded her that he was to depart for the Wall. Her heart reminded her to say goodbye to Jon.
She knocked on his door hesitantly, unsure what she was supposed to say. He didn't open his door straightaway; Ireyne wondered if he had gone to sleep. She took a step back, ready to turn around when the door creaked open just so. She saw Jon hold the door opened wider as his eyes found hers.
He was dressed in his bedclothes but he didn't look like he had slept. His clothes weren't wrinkled; the white of his tunic was still perfectly smooth. His hair wasn't tousled like it did whenever he fell asleep; his eyes weren't clouded with sleep.
"I was going to come see you in a while," he muttered softly, his gaze never straying from her face.
"I was tired of waiting."
His lips turned upwards as he stepped back to allow her in. Ireyne slid into his room as stealthily as she had crossed the hallways to get here. She sat down upon his bed gingerly, hands fidgeting with the soft cotton gown she was wearing right now. She avoided looking at Jon, not knowing what she would do if she saw him.
He wandered around his room; she heard his footsteps.
When he returned to her side, he sat down beside her on the bed. They both sat in dark silence, staring ahead at the stern stone wall and the melted wax that hung from the candleholders like stagnant tears.
Ireyne felt hot tears prick the corners of her eyes – she begged herself to not cry now. It was only when Jon grasped her hand did she realize that she had said it out loudly.
"We knew it had to happen," he began tentatively, untrusting of his own words.
Ireyne sniffed. "We did, and we said we'd end this when the time came."
"We did. Its for the best – for both of us."
"It is."
He tried to not say it, but he could stop himself. "I just hadn't thought it'd be this hard."
"Neither had I," a lone tear managed escaping her eye.
"Ireyne?" he asked her, begging her to look at him. When her glistening eyes did look at him, Jon felt the last of his confidence melt away. "I don't know what to say anymore... Don't know how to say goodbye, to say all that I want to."
Ireyne understood. She too wanted to say so much, tell him she loved him, tell him how being with him was the closest she'd ever felt to ecstasy, how happy he made her, and how sorry she was to leave. But words escaped her just as they escaped him.
So instead of searching for useless words and wasting their last moment any further, Ireyne did the one thing she was certain would say all that she needed to – she kissed him. Jon didn't hesitate, urgently kissing her back, sucking her bottom lip between his own and biting it softly. She let out a small moan, or perhaps that was him, and they moved even closer, entwining arms around one another with practiced ease.
When the need for air become too great to ignore, Jon broke away from her mouth to stare at her with wide eyes.
Ireyne looked gorgeous, as stunningly gorgeous as she always did in moments like these - flushed and panting, the green of her eyes a mere thin ring around the blown pupils. It ached him to think that he would never get to see her like this again - he wouldn't get to see her at all.
As if she had sensed the thoughts raging in his mind, Ireyne tenderly threaded her fingers through Jon's hair. She leaned her forehead against his, feeling his warm breath upon her face. "Stop thinking about it all. Be with me, here, now."
She knew she wouldn't be able to say much; Jon wouldn't either. Perhaps somethings were best left unsaid.
When he claimed her lips again, Ireyne understood just where she would be spending tonight. His fingers were caught on the laces of her shift; she pulled his tunic off. It was foolish to do this again, now, when time had nearly run out. Ireyne knew this moment would yield one moment of pleasure, and three more of misery. But being young and in love is the epitome of catastrophe.
She didn't know how, but Ireyne soon found herself on her back as Jon hovered above her, His hands were heavy yet gentle upon her hips. His chest felt smooth and heated under her fingers. Jon whispered her name – a soft declaration, a gentle plea – and Ireyne forgot that anything beyond them even existed anymore.
If this was their last night together, then Ireyne was determined to make the most of it, and judging by the expression on his face, so was Jon. If tonight was all they had, then she wanted to surrender herself one last time. Tonight, her body, her mind, her soul was his, Jon's, and she wouldn't have given this moment away for any greater joy.
GENTLE snores flitted across her back, reminding Ireyne of the presence behind her. An arm was draped around her waist, a hand resting dangerously close to her heaving breasts. She clasped a hand on her mouth in a pointless bid to stifle her sobs; hot tears continued pouring restlessly from her eyes, the feather pillow soaking up the lone evidence of her sorrow.
From her position on Jon's bed, Ireyne could see the window and the slowly lightening sky outside. She had watched it turn from velvety black to silken grey to burnished blue. Judging by the sky now, she still had a short while before the sun properly rose to take its place back from the faint moon.
She rubbed her moist eyes with the back of her hand, feeling the last traces of sleep flee. It should have been too comfortable here, too warm, too loving, too wonderful, but Ireyne could only feel cold numbness. Her heart ached for what she had to do today, for who she had to say goodbye to. She tried to string her words together, I love you, I'll miss you, be safe, but realized soon enough that she was no more capable of conveying her feelings to him this morning than she had been last night.
As the first slivers of yellow light appeared upon the horizons in the distance, Ireyne faintly heard the sounds of horses neighing, steel clanking, and boots stomping outside. The household would awaken earlier than usual today. In just a few minutes, Vaera would begin preparing a hot bath for Ireyne, readying her for the long journey home.
It was time for Ireyne to ready herself as well.
Taking a deep breath in, Ireyne carefully extracted herself from Jon's strong grip. Quietly, so silently her feet might as well have been gliding upon the stone floor, she collected her clothes from where they had been discarded by the bed on Jon's side. She dressed swiftly, nimbly tying the laces of her shift, smoothening her golden hair back into a loose bun. Her gaze landed on Jon's peaceful face, watching him slowly inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling in a mesmerizing pattern. She fiddled with her bronze ring idly, wondering vaguely if Jon would be upset that she had left so soon, although she figured they would both be upset either way.
Ireyne pressed a soft kiss to his temple, letting her lips linger for a moment. When she pulled back, without wasting an instant anymore, without allowing herself another stolen moment, Ireyne turned away from Jon and walked out of his chambers as quickly and as quietly as she could for the last time.
(END NOTES)
Aaaand we're down to the final three chapters in book I! Thank you for sticking with me and Joreyne so far, I hope you'll like where things go from now on.
As always, any votes and comments will be greatly appreciated.
Until next time, cheers!
- Elaine :)