Happy Easter. I feel like I'm being cruel to myself. I update on the days that the new season 4 episodes come on, but I can't watch them. Grrr! Ah well, I liked this chapter, so I hope you do too.
Chapter 26
Rhaenys stayed with him through most of the hours of the day. She found it hard to even look away from him, much less leave his presence. Three days since her arrival, and still nothing had changed in him. He was usually still, practically a corpse. His fever burned like a fire. He never opened his eyes and barely moved. The only signs that he still lived were his breathing and the moans that would sometimes escape his lips.
Whereas Jon seemed hardly alive, their son was more restless than ever. It was as if he sensed that his father was in danger. He was always kicking, always moving. Between the two of them, leaving to do anything else was very nearly impossible.
She hadn't noticed Robb enter until his hand was on her shoulder and she looked up at him in surprise. His eyes were sad, his body rigid and tense. He stared down at the man he called brother.
"I shouldn't have fought with him. I acted like a boy, too stupid to see sense." His voice broke at his last words, and it looked like he might cry.
"You couldn't have known," she whispered.
He shook his head sadly. "Yes, and because of that I shouldn't have fought with him. We're at war, and any day could be our last. And now its very likely I will never be able to tell him that I'm sorry."
The anguish in his voice tore at her heart.
It was at dusk that same day that Ser Barristan entered the tent to speak with her.
"Your Grace, the lords ask that you come to the command tent to be present as the final details of the plan are put into place."
"I thought that the plan had already been finalized." She never took her eyes off Jon's face.
"The messenger told Ser Jaime that there has been a change and they would like you to be there as they confirm the details."
She sighed, the sound quavering with emotion. "I can't leave him like this. Something could happen while I'm gone, Ser Barristan. Right now, he is more important than Casterly Rock. He is what holds the army together, what makes them fight against overwhelming odds. If he dies, we will break apart and the Lannisters will destroy us."
He walked over to her, grabbed both her shoulders, pulled her up gently and turned her around to face him. One of his hands caressed her cheek. "Rhaenys, we need to take Casterly Rock for him. We are in a camp, surrounded by the elements and the enemy. None of this is helping him to heal. If we take Casterly Rock, there will be shelter and food and adequate conditions for treating him."
As she looked down at her feet, too upset to admit he was right, he took the hand from her cheek and held her chin, bringing her eyes up to see his. "Your Grace, you have to be strong. Do not worry, Ghost and I will be here to watch over him. And I'm sure that wherever Dalin is, he is keeping a watchful eye on your husband."
Something furry touched her hand, and she saw Ghost was by her side. Smiling slightly, she grasped the direwolf's fur for comfort, then followed Ser Barristan as he led her out.
Jaime was waiting for them. He offered her his arm and she took it. She turned to look back twice to be sure that Ser Barristan remained outside the tent. Every time she did, Ser Barristan would give her a nod and Jaime would squeeze her hand.
(*)
The guards didn't notice her. It was dark outside and they were either drunk or sleeping. Even if they hadn't, it would not have mattered. The Lord had sent her to do his bidding and he would not let anyone interfere.
Her red robes flowed as she continued past where they sat. The camp was busy, at night as well as during the day. Men bustled this way and that, drinking, eating, fighting, fucking. Weapons and armor were made, food was passed out, and whores found men to pleasure during the night.
But no one could see her. No one cared about the woman in red nearing the King's tent.
(*)
The lords were gathered before the map, just as they had been when she first arrived. They bowed low, and welcomed her with kind words and condolences regarding her husband's health.
"Thank you, my lords. Now, what are the details for the plan of attack you wished to discuss?" She realized something was horribly wrong as they exchanged confused looks.
"Your Grace, the plan has been worked out. We're just merely waiting for the right time to put it into action. None of us requested your presence," the Blackfish said, for once uncertain.
She was filled with dread. Her dawning horror was reflected on all the other faces present. Someone had brought her here. Someone wanted her to be gone. Someone wanted her to leave the King. A thought struck her, and it was one she was very much afraid was true.
Turning to Jaime, she asked, "Have you and Ser Barristan betrayed me?"
His eyes widened in shock, even more than they had already been. "No-no, I wouldn't. Ser Barristan-he's-he would never-he would never betray King Jon," the Kingsguard stumbled over his words, desperate to prove his innocence.
(*)
She came to the King's tent now. A lone knight in white armor stood at the entrance. She did not kill him. Instead, she entered it from the back, careful not to make a sound.
The servant to the Lord had done a good job. The Queen had left her vigil over her husband, leaving the Lord's work to be done without interruption.
Inside, she found a huge, white direwolf laying at the King's feet. As she walked in, he raised his head, looking her over. His lips curled back over his teeth, a silent snarl, but besides that he did not make a move to stop her.
Moving over to the King, she could see the full extent of his wounds. He was barely breathing and his body raged with fever. Had he any energy to wake, he would have sounded as mad and delirious as his Targaryen grandfather.
Carefully, she placed one hand over his heart. It was beating, though faintly. He would not have lasted much longer had she not come.
(*)
"Who told you to bring the Queen here?" Robb asked, hand on his sword. The others were mimicking his actions. Rhaenys did not doubt that, should Jaime prove to be a liar, none of them would hesitate to kill him. She wasn't sure if such loyalty to her husband was wonderful or damning in this moment. They would do everything in their power to find the source of this plot, but they would kill before asking questions.
"A soldier. He approached Ser Barristan and I and said that the lords would like to see the Queen. We had been guarding the King's tent since the Queen came, we thought that a new piece of information arrived and had ruined our plan. Please, Your Grace. Believe me when I say I had no idea this was happening." He had come to kneel before her, awaiting her judgement.
"Of course you did not. You are innocent, Ser Jaime." She turned so she could face them all.
"Why would someone do this?" Robb voiced everyone's thoughts.
Rhaenys was just as confused as the others. "If this person had wanted to assassinate the King, he would have to do it some other way. Ghost and Ser Barristan guard his tent. The mystery conspirator would be cut down before they could manage to touch Jon. Either they are sloppy assassins, or they are planning something else."
The lords nodded in agreement. It was very true. They were surrounded by an army loyal to the King.
Before anyone could say anything more, Dalin burst into the tent, walking in as though he were a man.
"The Red Woman!" He growled angrily.
(*)
She could feel the shade's presence in the camp. The Lord of Light protected this tent, though, and he could not enter.
The King moaned under her touch. Sweat glistened on his bare skin. The fever was gone but his skin still burned. Most of his wounds were now pink scars. However, he was too far gone for the healing of the surface wounds to make any difference. The chance of his dying was present, even now.
No, she would not allow him to die. The Lord of Light had a purpose for him. He had to survive. For the night is dark and full of terrors.
(*)
Dalin led them back to where Jon rested. Ser Barristan was still standing guard. When he saw them approach - the shade walking among them in the light of day and several guards behind them - he quickly drew his sword and stepped aside.
"What is it, Your Grace?" he asked her.
"Has anyone entered, Ser Barristan?" She needed to know if she could trust him.
"No," he stated, a moment before Dalin said, "The Red Woman is too smart to attract attention. She would have crept in without alerting Ser Barristan. He's trustworthy, do not fear."
"So why has Ghost made no sound?" She wondered aloud. No one, not even Dalin, had an answer for her. She now noticed how the shade seemed on edge, pacing back and forth, and looking frustrated. He'd never appeared like this before. It worried her more than anything.
"What is it?" She asked him. He stopped moving and gestured to the tent.
"I can't enter. He won't let me," he growled. Rhaenys had no time to try to understand what he meant. Instead, she nodded and braced herself for what they would find inside.
"Remain here," she told the guards. "I will go first."
Her command clearly unnerved them and they appeared ready to protest, but she held up a hand to silence them.
"I will go first," she repeated.
Taking a deep breath and gripping the dagger on her thigh, she walked in. Her breath caught in her throat at what she found.
The Red Woman was indeed here. Her clothes were of red silk, covering her entire body yet revealing all the same. Her hair looked like copper, flowing down her back and over her pale skin. She wore a choker on her throat. The ruby on it glowed red and pulsed like a heartbeat. The priestess was very beautiful, but that was not what had caught Rhaenys' attention.
Jon stood next to the Red Woman, seeming completely healthy. The wounds that had been open and ugly on his chest were now scars. It was as if he had never been hurt in the first place.
The two had been speaking, and the way that they spoke unsettled her. They spoke in low voices, standing close to one another. They stopped when she entered, and a look of concern and confusion crossed Jon's face.
"Jon." She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. His skin was warm.
"Rhaenys?" He said as he held her close. The uncertainty in his voice hurt, but the last thing he probably remembered was the battle in which he almost died.
"Remember what I have told you, Jon Targaryen," the Red Woman spoke softly. Jon looked at her with a pained expression as she walked out, leaving them alone in the tent, save for Ghost, who remained on the bed.
He placed his hands on either side of her face and brought their foreheads together. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for you. I was told you were injured. I couldn't stay and wonder if you were dead," she whispered. His hand came to lay across her belly, on their son. She put one of her hands on top of his.
He smiled despite it all. "You silly girl." He kissed her forehead, and held her against his chest. "You didn't have to come. You should have stayed at the Crag. You should have stayed safe."
"What did the Red Woman say to you?" She pulled away suddenly, staring up at his face. Sighing, he led her to the bed and sat down, bringing her onto his lap. He nuzzled her neck, laying soft kisses against her skin.
"Don't worry about it. Her words aren't important." She must have imagined it, but for a second she could swear that he said, in a low and quiet voice, yet.
