A/N: More pieces are coming into play... buckle up ;) xx Mariah
When Jim and Melinda were finally alone and stood in their chambers, they were facing each other across a small round table that, just a few short weeks before, they had shared as they broke their fast the morning after their wedding. She stood on one side of the table opposite her husband, her arms crossed as she glared in anger.
Jim, for his part, looked perplexed beyond reason. "How have I dishonored you?" He asked in confusion after another moment.
"I don't give a damn what you do, but don't lie to me Jim Clancy," she cried, tears filling her eyes. "I know all about your little whore! You couldn't have been more discreet about it? I understand that some things happen in the heat of the moment, but the fact that it's milling about the castle irritates me beyond belief."
Jim went white. "My... my... what?" He stammered.
He had the gall to lie to her face now. "Did your ears become injured when you rode off to battle?" Melinda spat. "I said.. your whore! I know all about her. I want you to come clean."
"Melinda, no, please," Jim breathed slowly, he was wide-eyed. "That's not what happened." The king had gone quite still afterward, eerily so. He looked quizzically at her and then a chuckle broke forth. "You sound ridiculous."
He's laughing at me. Did he think this is all some jest? "Ridiculous am I? You think betraying me and our vows to be some jape?" She asked.
The smile died on Jim's lips and he looked at her with a dawning realization. "My God, you're not joking."
Do they put special effort into raising simpletons in the north? "No, Jim. I am not joking," she tutted, rolling her eyes. "I care quite a lot about it actually. I couldn't sleep last night after I found out."
Her husband looked astounded. His mouth opened and closed. He screwed his eyes shut briefly, then opened them and regarded her. "Just what exactly are you accusing me of?" He asked.
"I accuse you, Jim, of infidelity. Of betraying your wedding vows. Of fucking another woman while I am carrying your child." She yelled at him. "Do you deny it?"
Say it, Jim. Say it's not true. Say I haven't taken a gamble and based my entire life on a man who couldn't keep his cock in his trousers.
Jim simply stared at her. He didn't seem to know what to say. "I… I..." He stuttered.
"You were seen with a whore and I've heard stories of her visiting your tent!" She argued when he gave no more of a reply to her. "Say it isn't true Jim and I will believe you. I just need to hear what happened from your mouth."
The king looked incredulous, furious even. "Have you been spying on me?" He didn't even have the grace to look ashamed.
Truly, men would do anything but admit the truth. All she could help but think was that if he regretted anything it's the fact he got caught. "It's bad enough that you did it at all, but now I am the subject of castle gossip," she told him, tears rolling down her cheeks. "From the barracks to the kitchens everyone knows how you fucked some whore and how stupid their queen must have been to think that a simple southern girl could tame a wild northern savage."
"A what?" Jim asked, his eyes narrowing.
She rolled her eyes again. "Spare me your pride, Jim. It doesn't matter, it's a damn metaphor!" Melinda yelled, walking away from where he stood and over to the window to look at the gardens. It was a bit cold but maybe a walk in the gardens would help calm her down. "I have had to endure their looks and whisperings as I walk among them while I carry your child inside me, and now you dare to deny it?" She began to pace when he still didn't answer. "At first, I couldn't believe any of it. I told myself that you would never do that or dishonor me, but you won't even give me the courtesy of denying it."
He stared at her, his face red, and his eyes drifting away. "I won't deny that some whore came to my tent, but that was Lord Buckley's doing. He put her there and told her to wait for me, but I didn't want her. I want you!" She was stung by the insult he had said, even if he had said he wanted her.
Jim was walking toward her and she put her hands out to keep him at a distance.
"Do you deny it?" She demanded again. Please, Jim, tell me it's a lie.
"NO, I DO NOT DENY IT!" Jim hollered at her slamming a fist into his side of the table, splintering the wood with the blow.
Melinda stared in shock, her worst nightmares coming true before her eyes. "You… you don't?" She asked and swallowed tightly, fought back the beginnings of tears.
The king was leaning over the table, there was blood coming from the hand where his blow had struck the solid oak breaking the skin. He looked up, breathing deeply to quiet himself. "A king has no need to explain himself to anyone," Jim said, terribly calm with her.
"Not even to your queen?" Melinda retorted, crossing her arms. "You don't believe a husband owes his wife some explanation when others say he's been untrue?"
"What should I care about what others think? Why should you care either?" Jim shot back, his face red with anger as he sat down on the bed and rid himself of his boot, throwing them across the room. "We don't owe anyone a damn thing."
"What about what you owe me? What should I think?" She said, her tears falling and she could do nothing to stop them, their presence making her still angrier. "We took vows, Jim. We each swore that we belonged to each other."
Emotion warred on his features but eventually, his face softened, his anger fading. "Melinda, I do swear, it's not …" He shook his head and then pulled his tunic over his head. "It's not that simple."
"It is. You swore on our wedding day to be faithful to me," she replied, anger and hurt cutting her to pieces inside. "Now we know what vows are truly worth to a Clancy. Still-" she said acidly "- I shouldn't be surprised. Your brother romped with some noble girl. Perhaps I should be grateful that you haven't yet presented me with a bastard to raise as Ned has to Katherine."
She had gone too far. It was the wrong thing to say. Melinda saw that as soon as she'd said it. She'd insulted her husband's family and their honor. The light died on Jim's face. His emotion was washed away in an instant. She saw the man disappear and the king, no, the stone-cold killer appear before her eyes.
He stared at her with cold eyes and stood up walking toward her. His eyes held none of the compassion and warmth as they always had with her before, but were suddenly dark and unyielding, like the icy north. A tingle of fear crept up her spine and she backed away from him. She had never seen him like this before.
Devoid of emotion, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer to him. "I suggest you rest before my grandfather's funeral tomorrow," he commanded her. Even if it was a suggestion, she knew better than to think that. "Your attendance would be noticed if you didn't."
Her anger overrode her caution as she fought to maintain control of the conversation. She yanked her arm away from him. "And what if I choose not to attend?" She asked.
"Your attendance is entirely your choice, Melinda," he said hollowly as he sighed. "Though for someone who cares so much about appearances, I would have thought you'd want to be seen by my side." He looked at her coldly and as she walked toward the door. "I won't force you to come, neither will I spend my time making you believe anything either."
With that, Melinda moved back toward the bed and pulled back the blankets before getting into bed without another word. Jim left the room with a furious slam of the door behind him.
Ned sat on a fallen tree, one that had been felled by the last storm. He was far enough from the castle he could not hear the striking of the anvils and bustle of the people, and for that, he was glad. The whole keep had become tense the past few days, and Ned wanted nothing to do with it.
This would be his spot, he had decided, where he would come to think without anyone bothering or whispering about him. Here, Ned Banks would weep until he couldn't any longer. Here, no one could see his tears.
He had barely eaten for days, his strength leaving him with each passing night. Katherine would be telling me to eat, he thought. She would know how to support him, how to knock enough sense into him that he would stand from this dying tree a proper man and a proper knight.
But no, she hated him. The thought of her storming into his room, of the moment he realized she was upset with him, the moment she had turned away from him, made him sob. The last time Ned had felt such grief was when he had learned of his father's death. He polished his sword as he sat, tears streaming down his face. He was free to cry in this woodland.
He had always wanted children, but not like this. How could I have been so stupid?
Behind him, there was a crunch in the snow. His lady mother appeared from behind a dark tree, a sad look on Faith's face as she witnessed his tears.
"Ned… I saw you leave the castle. I thought you might want some company." His mother said kindly.
"I'm fine," Ned was curt. He did not desire his mother's wit or optimism at this very moment.
"Katherine is a good woman," Faith began as she leaned on the fallen tree. "She may come around in time."
He scoffed. A politician's answer. No heart. No soul. Just words in the wind.
His mother's face soured at his response. "Ned, I'm serious. I don't know her very well, but I know you do," she tried again. "And last I spoke of her she spoke of at least some semblance of a relationship between the two of you."
"To you," he replied, avoiding eye contact with the dwarf. "That's not what she said to me."
Faith sighed. "I see," she replied.
Ned had never been one for 'feelings', and if he did, those conversations had only ever happened with women he was in bed with. That was not his mother. Most women he bedded would never listen very well, but Katherine did. Katherine always listened to him.
"You love her," she said quietly.
He said nothing. To say it out loud again would make it more real. He would not have lost a friend but lost a lover. Ned's heart couldn't handle that.
"Love always destroys us in the end, son," she told him. "All relationships end in tragedy, whether it be death or heartbreak."
Ned glanced up at Faith, to find his mother's face forlorn and lost. No doubt she was thinking of his father. "Yes, well, it doesn't matter now." He sighed.
Perhaps she is right, he thought, perhaps love is meant to destroy us. Both of them stared at the trees around them, silent except for the odd cough and sniffle from the cold.
"I suppose you haven't heard, then?" Faith said finally. He said nothing, shrugging his shoulders. "The Queen is carrying your brother's child."
Ned raised his eyebrows curiously. That was good news. "Well, good for them," he exclaimed but did not care for the dealings of others. Love may destroy us, yes, but let Melinda and Jim be happy. Even if just for a little while.
"Yes… good for them." Faith crossed her arms as she shivered. "I suppose I should return to the castle. It is rather chilly. Come inside soon, promise me?"
He nodded, bidding farewell to his mother. His crying had stopped, so perhaps Faith's presence was not completely unnecessary. His mother walked away briskly and loudly, her feet stomping through the fresh snow erratically like bells.
The woman was clearly in a hurry to get back into the warmth of the castle and though he couldn't blame her, he enjoyed the cold. He always had. As silence returned to the woods, Ned resumed the polishing of his sword and in the distance, saw the speck of a man weave between the trees towards the western gardens of the castle, crossbow in hand.
When Jim didn't return, Melinda decided she needed some fresh air. She needed the cold breeze on her face instead of the claustrophobia which engulfed Oakheart. All the tension and anxiety had gotten to her lately, and she needed time alone. She walked out of the castle and towards the gardens, pulling her coat around her as the bite of the air chilled her. The two men standing outside her door were adamant to accompany her, but she commanded they keep their distance.
Melinda wished to be alone. Everything that had happened with Jim since he arrived had unnerved her greatly. Everything he had said to her had hurt the same as well. As she walked through the garden she noticed the change of season to autumn had caused some of the flowers to begin to wilt, but it didn't matter to her. Nothing did, but her husband's betrayal. Until a bolt whizzed by her head, narrowly missing.
She ducked and turned, terrified. She looked behind her frantically for the culprit, for the man who dared to try and murder her. She caught a glimpse of a man in a mercenary's garb and a brown shaggy beard raised his crossbow to aim at her again. Then looked to the woodland to her right and ran instinctively. She broke into the tree line, grateful she was wearing her grey dress today instead of her white, and stumbled across the fallen branches, panting and heaving as she took flight across the shrubbery.
Another bolt flew past her. This time, it struck a nearby tree, but it was enough for her to run faster than she had ever done before.
The man behind her seemed to swear, the loud thud of the crossbow hitting the snow spurring Melinda to look behind her briefly. The mercenary had pulled out his sword, and it shone in the noon daylight. She was terrified. Why hadn't she just stayed in bed? Where were her guards? They should have only been a few paces behind her.
Melinda spotted a large wide tree and hid behind it as the man advanced on her. She held her breath, her hand covering her mouth as the woodland became quiet. The man walked slowly through the wilderness, his feet crunching the snow as he walked. She heard his pace quicken and grabbed a nearby branch, one that was thick and heavy, and prepared to defend herself.
It was all she had. She had no blade or guards to protect her. Here, she was alone beside the child that she carried and she wanted to do everything in her power to protect it. As the man neared her hiding place, she swung the branch as fast and hard as she could, hitting him right in the face. He stumbled back onto the ground, shocked at her attack, and Melinda took off running before he had the chance to react.
"You cunt! You've broken my nose!" He yelled as she fled.
Melinda did not care. She wanted to survive. She wanted her baby to survive. The adrenaline in her veins pumped so quickly she had no thoughts of her own.
The man was catching up to her, quickly and surely, and when he was close enough he grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought her to the ground with a slam. She punched and kicked as he tried to overpower her, her nails clawing at his face, making it bleed. He became increasingly more annoyed, but finally, she kicked him right in the crotch, causing him to back off for long enough that she could scramble across the snow.
Melinda threw anything she could find at him as he advanced, rocks and branches, even the pin in her hair. She panicked, her eyes wide and frantic as she found nowhere else to run.
The man picked himself off the ground and laughed. "Sorry, my Queen," he sneered. "It's only business. Rick Payne offered a castle to anyone who brings him your head."
"Which castle?" She whispered. She did not know why she asked that question. She did not know what else she could say. She didn't want to die yet.
The beat of armored boots hitting the cold ground grew in the distance. They would be too late, Melinda realized.
"Aurora. Beautiful castle, almost as beautiful as your head will be when I deliver it to Rick." The man smiled as he raised his sword. "Though I might take a prize with me and fuck you bloody after the fight you put up."
She squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the slash of the blade or worse. Such was the way of the world. Instead of the cold and bitter steel of the blade puncturing her skin, Melinda heard the clang of metal meeting. Her eyes shot open. Prince Ned stood in front of her, his sword blocking her death.
Jim's younger brother heaved his sword forward, throwing the man off balance. He slashed as the man fell, wounding his shoulder. The mercenary fell to the ground screaming. The wound was not to kill but to maim.
"Take your hands off my sister!" Ned yelled. "You filthy traitor!"
Melinda was confused.
"This is typically how assassinations work, Ned. I admit I would have done it quieter, but Rick insisted it should dramatic." The man joked, clutching at his shoulder in pain. "After all, the woman did spurn him to marry your brother."
The boots of her men drew closer and their shouting began to split her ears. Ned sheathed his sword, satisfied he had incapacitated the wannabe assassin and turned back to her, his left hand reaching out to help her up. Melinda stared at it for a moment, her blood still pumping and her mind swirling.
When the young man stretched his hand out further as a prompt, she took it, and he pulled her up from the snow. The two stared at each other for a long moment. No words came out of her mouth, still too shocked by the encounter.
Lord Buckley's son, Samuel, led a group of soldiers towards them, only separating to grab her assailant off the ground. "Your Grace! Are you hurt?" The young man pleaded.
Melinda turned to him and shook her head. There were no injuries of a physical kind, not that she could see.
The mercenary was yelling as he was dragged away by soldiers harshly, blood gushing from his wound. If she was unlucky, he would bleed out before her husband could get justice. Only now was she calming down, her fear replaced with fiery rage. Rick will pay for this, she decided.
When she turned back to thank her rescuer, Ned was gone, and she looked around confused, her eyes a little sad. She sighed, her hands clasping together to keep them from shaking, and followed the men dragging her would-be killer, her eyes boring into his as she picked up her hairpin from the snow and shoved it back in her hair.
Jim had come to bed to find the room empty and was pacing leaving the castle halls, seeking out Melinda when she stormed through the gates, flanked by Aurorean soldiers and a man half-injured and yelling. Her hair was disheveled, her soft grey dress stained wet with snow and mud. Her eyebrows were pulled down together in fury, and her eyes stared forward in a glare so harsh those who stood in her way recoiled as she walked by.
Edward Buckley's son, Samuel, approached him first, a hand gripping his shoulder. He did not wish to speak with the boy, but instead with his wife. He wanted to know what was wrong and he had wanted to apologize for how he acted, but one of the soldiers walked in with a large and ornate wooden crossbow. The weapon of a rich man, or a king.
Jim looked to Sam in a panic. "What happened?" He asked.
"An assassin. She's fine." Sam whispered, not wishing to declare it to the crowd beginning to form around them.
He moved the boy aside to run to his wife. Melinda stopped when she saw him, her gaze softening. The soldiers and the assassin continued on past the two as they stood in the middle of the yard.
"Melinda..." Jim began, touching the bruise on her face.
"Where do you normally cast sentences in Oakheart?" She said slowly.
It was not menacing, or authoritative. She wanted to move on, and they both knew that justice came after politics in this world. He indicated behind him to the Great Hall. Her eyes flared, her lips pressed into a thin line in barely concealed anger. Before she could step forward, he grabbed her arm.
"How? How did he try and kill you?" Jim asked quietly.
"At first, a crossbow." She whispered, her voice wavering slightly, afraid. "But I wouldn't go meekly...and I-I broke his nose. He said Rick Payne offered Aurora to anyone willing to bring my head to him."
His heart hurt. How dare some assassin try and rid her from this world? How dare he try to take her and their child from him? Jim's fists clenched tightly, before taking her hand briefly and squeezing in comfort.
She looked at him, her eyes sad for a brief moment, but he could tell she still hadn't forgiven him. Rightfully so, but he smiled sadly and followed her inside. The crowd was jeering, the man having been unceremoniously dumped in front of the head table. When the king and queen walked in, he could not avoid the unshakable feeling that some were disappointed she had survived.
Melinda walked around the table, seating herself in the largest chair to the right of the one directly in the middle. Jim stayed standing, his hands clasped behind his back angrily. His worry for his wife's safety had been forged into a rage and he wanted to rip out this man's throat for the attempt on her life.
"A castle for my head was what you said, right before you attempted to murder me." She stated as the hall fell quiet. The man laughed and nodded his slowly bruising head. "Tell the lords of this room which castle."
The man chuckled. "Aurora."
In a flash, some of the Aurorean lords and guards present at the back of the room stood and demanded his head, shouting and jeering as the would-be assassin spat on the floor in their direction. Jim's nose wrinkled in disgust.
"On whose orders?" She commanded.
The man hesitated, but they already knew the answer and the man likely knew what the punishment would be. "Does it matter? Pay me double and I'll pretend I never existed!" To the side, a few of the lords chuckled at the attempt.
"Yes, it matters!" Jim interrupted in a shout. He wanted to hear the name from the man's mouth. "Who gave you the order?"
"Rick Payne! Who else do you think?" Joshua replied in a burst of anger, before calming his voice as best he could. "But we can sort out a deal, surely? No need to murder me."
Melinda stood and placed her hands on her stomach. "This is not murder, it is justice."
The man began to struggle in his leather bounds at the realization of what was to come. Two guards from the side hurried over to restrain him. Jim continued to stare at the smirking man kneeling before them, his rage beginning to bubble over so that he could barely conceal a snarl. He had rarely considered himself an angry man - but this one assassin caused his blood to boil. He knew this traitor. Joshua LeTrai. He was one of the many squires who had been in his brother's service, but Ned had bedded his sister once or twice and that was the end of that.
The king walked over slowly to stand in front of where his queen stood. The crossbow lay at the end of the long table. Both of them glanced at it. Melinda's eyes began to water, whether in fury or fear Jim did not know. He stared at her, his hands shaking in a rage to match her own. She was right, this was not murder, but justice. She stared back at him, understanding, and nodded.
Jim walked slowly to the end of the table and brushed his hand over the weapon. Joshua yanked his arms at the men restraining him, desperate to avoid his fate. "Ser Joshua LeTrai," his voice rang out. "I, James Clancy, King of Grandvista, sentence you to death."
Melinda watched as he spoke. She was part ethereal, part terrifying. That's what a Queen should look like, he decided.
The prisoner whimpered, and the lords watched anxiously to see how he would be executed. His wife looked over to him, and he bowed in return. He picked up the crossbow from the oak table and aimed at his queen's would-be killer. Jim let the bolt fly and the man collapsed to the floor, the bolt having lodged straight between his eyes. He did not enjoy the sight, never had, but for a few moments, his rage subsided. When he turned back to Melinda, she was not staring at the dead body, but at him.
"Hear, hear!" Some of the Lords cried out.
Their mood had changed since his return from battle. Melinda was one of them. Jim hoped the lords sat at the back, their faces grumpy, would soon come to their senses as well.
His queen motioned to her men to remove Joshua's body from the room, prompting the people in the room to make their escape as well. No one wanted to be with a body while it rotted on the floor.
Katherine walked over to her in an instant, whispering softly to her that she will help her sort out her appearance. She was a good friend, he believed, the girl truly stood by her side out of love and friendship. Melinda agreed and looked briefly at him before she turned to leave. She would talk with him later.
His mother left as well, Lady Faith throwing brief glances of worry at him as she disappeared in the doorway and he was left alone in his thoughts.
Night had fallen on Oakheart, the bitterly cold autumn wind beginning to pick up as the inhabitants of the castle wound down. Ned sat on a bench in the courtyard, not willing to return to his room just yet. The night was clear, the stars visible and glowing bright in the sky. He stared at them for a while, lost in thought.
Plenty of people were still streaming into the keep, cloaked refugees looking for food and shelter, just as they had been doing since his brother, the king, arrived. Around the corner, a small kitchen for portions of soup and loaves of fresh bread had been set up by Queen Melinda. They were no doubt heading there.
Earlier in the day, Ned had seen Joshua's limp body be removed from the keep, a few Gordon soldiers carrying him on their shoulders. Where he had gone once he had left the walls of Oakheart, the prince did not know. Burning? A shallow grave? A wolf pack's feast? He sighed at the thought. He had never considered Joshuah LeTrai a trusted friend, but he had known the man still. He cared not for honor or integrity or loyalty, only gold. Prime dog material for House Payne.
Yet here they were, the prince having outlasted the orphan lordling boy that trained beside him and squired for him for a time. A bitter end for a bitter man, it seemed. Ned crossed his arms, exasperated. Across the courtyard, Melinda appeared accompanied by Jim and double the number of guards as usual. She had changed clothes, now clad in a deep red dress with a black fur collar. Her hair was wrapped into a single braid, devoid of the pins that had adorned it earlier in the day.
She spotted him as she walked, and whispered something softly to his brother, before kissing him on the cheek and bidding him farewell. Jim gave him a smile, they had yet to talk since everything happened, and turned to leave. She walked over to him, shadowed by her guards.
"Thank you," Melinda said once she had reached him.
Ned was surprised, his eyebrows rising in confusion. The woman hated him, he thought. A thank you from Katherine's closest friend despite that he had saved her life was the last thing he expected her to say.
He simply nodded. 'You're welcome' sounds sarcastic, and 'it's no bother' sounds far too detached. If this woman is willing to give me a few day's reprieve from her glares, I'd rather not upset her too soon.
"Why?" She blurted out. "I know you are Jim's brother, but why?"
When Ned looked at her again, she seemed younger. She was the same age as Katherine, he remembered.
"Because it was the right thing to do." He replied without thinking.
She scoffed. "Since when have you done something because it was the right thing to do?" Melinda spat out. "You're renowned for bedding maidens and just when I thought you might've changed, you broke my closest friend. Forgive me if I expected less from you."
That hit him. He had never wanted to hurt Katherine, ever.
"I'm sorry about that. I really am." He said softly. Melinda seemed stunned at his confession, her eyes desperately searching for the joke. "I dishonored her."
"You did." She replied quickly and bitterly.
"She won't even speak to me," he said mournfully.
Melinda moved to sit next to him on the large wooden bench, her hands clasped together and her back arched. He was talking to her true self, it seemed. Not the person she let everyone believe she was. "I forgive you for what you've done for me, but one act will not absolve you." She whispered, staring forward towards the courtyard. "And I am not Katherine. I cannot forgive you on her part."
One act will not absolve you. Ned nodded slowly, understanding. "I didn't help you out of a quest for forgiveness. I did it because it was what needed to be done." He finally said.
It was the truth. He would have never abandoned a person in peril, whether he knew them or not. She shot him a sad smile. They continued to sit in silence, neither of them willing to get up and leave just yet.