This is embarrassing, I keep uploading before I do the spell check, this is my second attempt at putting this up. It was written weeks ago, but I only re-read just before uploading. But I always read what it's supposed to say instead of what I have written.
Chapter 17: 'The Tale' Part 1
The witch had just probed her with a question, well she gave her a choice of three lives. "Is that an actual question for me?"
"No." The witch said simply. "You think I'm going to tell you straight up what to do? It isn't one you answer right now...it needs to be presented. An image of outright chivalry and pageantry, up against an image of extraordinary chivalry..." A haunted look came upon her face, and Sansa swore she could see into her soul. "I would say choose wisely, but...a girl can make mistakes...a girl as smart as you can be fooled...just don't let it ruin your life."
Her younger sister snorted at this.
"Thank you Maggy." Sansa said as it seemed the session had drawn to a satisfying close. Ish.
Her sister grumbled. "No, not thank you, Maggy, she told you a freakish bed-time story!" She paced angrily, her skirt hem encrusted with dirt rustling. "Which didn't have any plot or characters...well that khalsy of the grass sea and a warrior? Wow! So precise...so clear, very unique, and informative." She bled sarcasm. "We don't know who is which, and what it all means. "She fingered each of her other fingers at each of her points. "She gave you no clue as to how to follow the path, or who else was on the path apart from you and me, and those obscure characters, and... she has got your money!" She gestured at the money on the table. "See, I know her future...she is going to spend your money...on eyeliner!"
"Arya!" Sansa's auburn red hair spun around her head. "If you can excuse us for one moment...I can get more information." She was pleading, but she was still cross.
"I can't leave you here."
Sansa clutched her bodice. "I am touched-"
"-Because you're stupid enough to spend more money on this drivel." Her sister reproached, her eyes flicking up to the witch, but then cast downward as if losing her nerve. "Let's go and buy jewellery...or cakes...or scarves...something prissy?!"
Sansa thrust her bag of cakes at her, and Arya caught them at her chest. "Go take my cakes, share them with your friends, and I'll catch up with you later."A furtive look was shared with Sansa and the witch, and her sister reluctantly took off out of the tent in a huff. A sigh escaped Sansa, and her hand sought her forehead. "Forgive my sister, she is young...and treats me and others with the same bluntness." When her hand dropped into her lap, she saw the witch smiling, a fair pretty smile.
"Shall I be more blunt with you, now, my lady?"
Sansa knitted her brows. "I would appreciate that immensely..." Wait. "How much?"
"You are covered for both you...and your sister, since she didn't get a read...I will extend this to you." Her fingers flexed, and the rings on one of her hands clinked. She leant forward to eye her strangely, her eyes were not foggy or distant, she then pointed right at her, firmly, almost rudely. "You...have a shadow, let's call him that."
Sansa clasped her hands tightly in her lap, bracing herself. "Supposing I do...what do I do?"
"This shadow was a danger, it haunts your mind...I may have been a bit mild when telling you he is of no consequence now...He once was of consequence...and still has the power to corrupt and lure...but on a smaller scale."
Here we go. A breath sated her. "Explain."
The witch tapped her own forehead. "This shadow casts darkness on all...potentials."
Was she using the word potentials from her dictionary, or the witches? "Erm...?"
The witch frowned. "You asked me about matters of the heart, did you not?"
"Yes..." She shook her head to clear the incense. "Sorry, go on."
"It has somewhat tainted the whole batch, I suppose the way you think now, is a danger. You worry a lot. But I wish to inform you...don't tar them with the same brush. There are good ones."
Sansa rested her chin in her palm. "I see."
"But there are bad, one choice could lead you down a somewhat unhappy path, and into the shadow's clutches...in case of that outcome, you are able to fight...and you have someone to fight for you."
Lady Stark nodded. This is the information she needed to hear. "Can you expand upon this path, and...is the shadow...is that more a... mental struggle, or...a physical being?" Sansa tried, gesturing her hand as if drawing a shape in the air.
"The shadow is a physical being...obviously." She was sure the witch was rolling her eyes at her. "But the wounds they left behind are also the shadow."
Sansa did a slow uncomfortable blink, breathing out deeply with a rasp. "Alright...I have the power to overcome this...thing."
"Yes, both, you eliminate one, you can eliminate the other." The witch stood, for the first time, Lady Stark was able to see her gown of periwinkle and brown.
"Tell me how?"
The witch rolled her eyes again, and Sansa realised it must be a tick, or her way of seeing things. "The shadow can be defeated with love...it may sound poetic and...ridiculous, but...open your heart, lighten that darkness...make the shadow disappear...and even in the shadows clutches you can be saved by love...a love." Sansa looked up at her. She had heard 'open your heart' before.
"Tell me about Harry." That slipped out, she hadn't meant to name drop people. The witch turned shrewdly to her, and made her feel embarrassed.
"Harry." She tasted the name on her tongue. "This name doesn't stir me, nor motivate me to praise him, he feels like he is of no consequence."
Oh dear. Sansa felt slightly bereft. More to do with the fact Maggy had no useful comments on the matter. So Harry wasn't evil, then? "Perhaps that's good?"
Maggy flicked her wrist, to be rid of her long sleeves. "I haven't finished...he has no distant future...and certainly not a happy one with you." She squinted as if looking through a dirty window, her eyes rounded. "Oh...no."
Sansa sat up straight. "What?" She stared into her eyes as if she herself was trying to read the witch.
"Hmm...Yes...he is...very experienced, too experienced for the likes of you, and he is surrounded with...dark people, so dark it looks like they are sitting in shadows...A shadow."
She didn't want to hear this. Lady Stark arose from her seat. "I suppose he is a potential that I have tarred with a brush?..."
"Or he is a dead man walking." Maggy drawled unapologetically.
Sansa gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. "I can't believe you said that." Poor Harry.
"No...not poor Harry." The witch echoed.
Lady Stark gasped and again lurched back. "Oh gods." She had thought it first, her blaspheme, but then announced it since it was a little redundant.
"I read and hear." The witch shrugged. "I can see now, and further back...the shadow has completely saturated everything, so I can only see darkness, and vague memories." Sansa kept shaking her head, as if that would stop her from sifting, but clearly her thoughts were loud, and her mind was an open book. The witch too shook her head, but in sympathy. "You need to reflect on some good memories, there are some in here, and they're dusty, it's very depressing in here.. I don't know why...you're not in the other universe, you were raped in the other universe...and family murdered."
"The previous life...it can't repeat itself can it?"
The witch lowered her head, almost in defeat. "Anything is possible...fate can be cruel, sometimes, after all...some of the people who caused this, still live." She picked up a cup of wine and swirled it, before knocking it back, she looked to her afterward seeing her retreat in horror. The witch set her cup down."By the way...Your sister does care for you...in your previous path she protected you when things grew dark. There were things she couldn't grasp you'd been through, and she was able to admire you all the more. The extent to which you suffered in these universes; rough marital rights, physical and mental torture, mutilation... you would count your blessings now."
Sansa balked at the words, those ugly words. "You probably shouldn't have told me that." She blinked out a tear. About to weep for the other Sansas.
The witch closed her eyes, and inhaled through her nose. "Lemon cakes, think of them...think of games...think of winter...enchantments...playing in the snow."
Sansa felt an involuntary twitch seize her face. "Alright." She sat back into the chair, when she regained control of her person. "I will try and think of happy thoughts, but tell me my ideal suitor, please, my lady."
The witch rolled her eyes, and for a moment she thought she was being rebuffed, but of course, that's how the witch read. "Brave, gentle and strong." Then she shrugged, adjusting her robes and seating herself again. "There you are."
Lady Stark leant heavily on one of the arms of her chair. "That's it?" Well...those were ideal attributes for a man, but is that what she'll get? Sansa forced herself up, about to bob politely, and dip out of the tent. "I suppose...I'm just going to have to be extra careful." The witch lurched for her, seizing her hand, it startled her.
"Just bring forth other memories..." When her client barely moved or spoke, the witch sighed in resignation. "Has it left you? Has this shadow consumed all?" Sansa frowned at this. All? "Fine." Maggy released her, moving to a shelf in the tent, Sansa watched, she could do nothing else, the witch snared a bottle out of her selection. "Take a seat."
She was scared, and remained where she was. "What are you going to do?"
"Take a seat."
She did as she was bid. And Maggy uncorked the bottle, the 'pop' made her jump. "What is that?" It was in a purple bottle, a colour too close to blue, which she associated with poison. Perhaps the witch thought she was a lost cause?..If she had seen what was in her mind, then, maybe?
"Herbology." The mystic swirled the bottle to trigger its potency. "Breathe deep." It was shoved under Lady Stark's nose before she could counter it, and she got one whiff and-
"-That's strong!" She coughed.
"Deep!" Maggy enforced, poking the lip of the bottle at her nostrils.
Sansa breathed in to psych herself, and ended up taking a big dose of the stuff, her eyes burned, and then rolled back, and she was gone. Alright, so she found me irritating, so she killed me?
She saw snowball fights with her siblings, her mother and septa teaching her how to sew, and receiving a doll from her father at thirteen. "Sorry father, I'm too old for this...I haven't played with dolls since I was eight." She screamed when she lost her first tooth.
There was so much laughter and hollering, children were loud...she saw herself with her old friend, Jeyne was trying to make a cleavage with the bodice of her dress, trying to tighten it and crush her breasts together. Gods, she doesn't need to do that now.
She saw the greenhouse, I remember...
Sansa fluttered her eyelashes. "Oh my sweet, love of my life, light of my darkness...may I steal a kiss from you?"
Jeyne recited with equal enthusiasm to how Sansa had requested. "My moon and stars, you shall."
They beamed at one another, and threw their arms open in mock surrender of each other's feelings. Sansa embraced her friend, and they bumped noses and laughed in harmony.
Her friend drew back. "Aww...One day I shall show you." Jeyne stroked her younger friend's hair.
"Can't that be today, my lady?" Lady Stark smiled up at her, almost needy.
The elder of the two fingers her chin, pondering mischievously. "I suppose...you could steal a kiss from me?" They giggled, and tugged each other closer to the entrance of the greenhouse. The elder girl held Sansa at the shoulders, giving her an encouraging squeeze. "Alright, my lady, close your eyes." Her ladyship obliged, and made her lips square.
Her friend laughed. "No, my lady, relax your mouth."
An attempt was made, but the exaggerated pucker still remained. Jeyne tried to gently pat her lips down. And Sansa deliberately made an 'Ooo' noise so it would be repeatedly interrupted by her friend's fingers.
"Hehe stop it, this is serious." While her mouth remained in a funny position, lady Stark chuckled in response. "No man will want to kiss a fish."
Sansa's mouth stretched so it was agape in shock. "Oh gods, I didn't look as bad as that, did I?"
"You mean like this..." Jeyne imitated her pout, and made popping sounds. "You certainly did, my lady."
She thumped her friend. "Don't mock your mistress!" Her voice was rich with mirth.
"Right now, Sansa, I'm your acting governess, you will do as you are bid."
She softened at her friend's very fitting remark. "Very well, my lady." Sansa closed her eyes and kept her mouth at its natural state...waiting for pressure. She sensed Jeyne leaning over her, and pressed her honeyed lips to her own. Her friend squared her own to almost bunch up hers, making them considerably moist, they stuck briefly as they separated.
"There, my lady."
Sansa fluttered her eyes open, sucking her lips in to sum up the feeling. "That was tender and sweet, but...I don't see what all the fuss is about." She shrugged, her smile was lopsided, it was clear she was disappointed.
"Too tame for you? That bodes well, it's not supposed to be like that...the real thing is...quite different." Jeyne said with a tremor as if enjoying the very thought. Sansa merely studied her. How could she know? Jeyne continued her explanation. "You envelope each other's lips, slide them about, and put your tongue into each other's mouth."
Sansa recoiled. "You lie!" She was appalled, it sounded disgusting...and...made up. "When mother and father kiss, they don't do that!"
"Ah...not in public." Her friend's argument was fairly valid, Sansa hardly saw them kiss at all, only pecks.
Lady Stark jutted her head out in retaliation. "How do you know all this? Have you seen them?"
Jeyne laughed. "As if I would spy on your parents. No silly, I've seen others...and...I've kissed a boy." She said with sly pride, and Sansa took a step back to really see her, as if for the first time.
"You have not, my lady." She countered, her hands on her hips. Since when had lady Westerling been courting?
Her friend was reproachful, and she shimmied forward. "Then how do you think I know?"
Sansa studied her suspiciously, she did know a lot, but that could be from observation...but she did have the nerve to try with her. "Who was it?"
"You know the Stable hands?" Lady Westerling shrugged.
Sansa thought about it, a boy's appearance looming up to her face, but there were several faces. "Which stable hand?"
Jeyne inched forward. "All of them." She tittered at her ladyship's surprise. But lady Stark was more than surprised, she was appalled. She would have never have known her friend...let alone any woman to have all the men at her disposal.
The imagery alone was daunting; a line of men queuing up to kiss her friend, and people witnessing it. "You kissed them like you kissed me?" That wouldn't be so bad, it was innocent and tame enough.
"No, I would not kiss them like I kissed you, and I wouldn't kiss you like I kissed them." Her friend imparted with some discomfort. "There were tongues." She flexed it at her, and Sansa blushed.
"Oh goodness no, that would be weird, besides that's disgusting." She admitted, feeling the weight of this burden that was yet to come. "I would not do that, there has to be another way!"
Jeyne stroked the younger girl's sleeve. "It's not disgusting if you like each other, besides your pretty...and if I were a boy, I'd kiss you hard and messy, and if you liked the boy well enough you'd want it messy. If you want to really know...I will."
Sansa grinned bashfully at her friend. "You are sweet...was that a profession of love?" When her friend nodded, Sansa then pretended to go in for a kiss and wiggled her tongue in a comical fashion. Her friend recoiled and laughed.
"If you hold your tongue out, I will meet it with mine?" Lady Westerling flexed it again in invitation.
Sansa ceased her laughing. "Are you serious?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and the brave Jeyne nodded avidly. "Only the tip?" She said earnestly, implying she wouldn't cope with anything more.
"Only the tip." She echoed, and bopped her ladyship's nose sweetly. "Open up." She then whispered, and Sansa tentatively stuck out her tongue, and her friend mirrored her. Jeyne's tongue was somehow longer...was that because she was older...or because she had used it more? Jenye closed in, and the moist stub met her equally moist stub. Sansa recoiled. "Ew." Jeyne had aimed her head forward to swipe lady Stark's retreating mouth, skimming her top lip with her tongue. "Ew no!" She pulled back, laughing heartily. "Men and women do that for fun?!"
"You're supposed to lick back and enjoy it, silly." Her friend drew her back by the sleeve.
"You're lying...they don't, this was a joke wasn't it? And I fell for it." She tugged her sleeve back.
Jeyne relented. "It's not as silly-but fine, give me your dry pucker kiss then... Let's see if you can give, as well as receive." She affectionately grazed her shoulder, as if to encourage her again, and this time she closed her eyes, and she cocked her head to the side.
What is she doing? Sansa did her usual pucker, and closed her eyes, she stood on the tips of her toes to place her lips on her friend's, and held it there to prove she was not afraid, and was truly a woman, and a wolf to boot. Sansa breathed against her friend's face. Surely this was long enough? This is how it happened in stories...they stood still. Jeyne was compliant and didn't draw back. She was her mistress. They held firm, warming each other's faces. Sansa fluttered her eyes open, and focused on a shape, she blinked. What the-? Jon was watching them from in the greenhouse, she drew back rapidly, and once again their lips stuck and popped on separation. A gasp came out of her and she covered her moist lips, staring mortified into her friend's eyes. How long had he been there?
"What's wrong?" Jeyne asked with concern, stroking her arm.
Sansa focused on him again, over her friend's shoulder, still holding her lips, masking her shame. He looked away sharply as if he knew he had been caught. "Jon is watching us."
Sansa felt scandalized. The fact a male had witnessed her, a lady of Winterfell, kiss her female friend with what he could construe as reckless abandon. Surely women weren't suppose to be seen practicing on each other? They're supposed to experience it for real for the first time. Jeyne glanced back briefly, and laughed, staring warmly at her friend. "Your face right at this moment...we're just playing, silly girl."
The fingers that were against her lips, trembled. "He saw us...he saw us, Jeyne!" She whispered harshly, while spying the man in question furtively side-eyeing them, almost as if embarrassed by what he had willingly watched, and yet he lingered with...perverse curiosity. Surely if he was embarrassed by it, it looked a lot more serious and intimate than she could have envisioned.
Lady Jeyne stood reposed, unguarded, and unabashed, her hand on her hip, giving Jon a straight up agreeable eye. "He's probably been watching awhile, men like a good enough mental picture so they can take themselves in hand later." Jeyne swiped a thumb across her lip.
She was confused. "Take what in hand?"
Jeyne gave a hushed laugh, almost in a dark and mischievous manner. She flicked her tongue off her incisors, as if about to tease and torment someone, Jon's adam apple bobbed, before he turned sideways, as if looking at a plant. Sansa noted the awkward figure was clenching and unclenching his hands staring into the shrubs, but he was still very much trying to see them, in fact, he inched around the plant to seemingly peek through them. How odd...it wasn't as if they could continue...with him gawping.
Sansa leant to her friend's ear. "He will tell everybody, he will tell mother...what shall we do?!"
"He can't tell if...he was invited to the party?" Her friend's eyes sparkled with intent, and she took a gander over at her target.
Lady Stark felt herself age a couple of years, she wised up in a second, and understood everything, she gulped. "Why didn't we play hide and seek? Gods dammit." She wined, shuffling uncomfortably.
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