Chapter 39: Woo
Sansa flicked open her brother's marquee flap and entered with the air and grace of a queen. She saw the backs' of all of her immediate family, dotted around a table. All but one. A lady she had come to know as 'Talisa' was tending to her poor...
"-You're up?!" Sansa stared at Robb, propped up by about 6 goose-feather pillows, and looking very mobile and alert. He winced as she approached with a stomp. "You look well..." She assumed everyone knew her tone, they were all mirroring her brother's grimace. "Blood shot eyes, and the aroma of beer." She leant inquisitively, and he recoiled. "And...what's that smel-"
"-Pick me up pulp!" A voice she recognized answered her, but they weren't in her peripheral, and so everybody turned to gauge the person. Lord Tarly was standing at the entrance. "My lords and ladies...I give you the remedy for his affliction." He bobbed at them, and he lifted a mysterious jar that was a quarter full. "But that brings me to alert you of a plot most foul." She didn't gasp right away, she was distracted by the lack of...a certain individual that normally accompanied Sam. Well two individuals, how could she forget Gilly?...What was wrong with her?!
Her mother and father shared a look. "A plot? You mean sabotage, my lord?" It was an inquisition with an edge of relief. "Is that why my boy lost?" That's just wishful thinking.
"Your son was gifted an adulterated cask."
"My gods, can you be certain?" Her father rumbled, and Sam nodded. Arya began flipping a knife in the corner, as if plotting her revenge. "By whom?"
"Not sure, it seems the other athletes were targeted as well...but were fortunate enough not to...I'm sorry to say, flounder." He observed everybody looking at the jar once again. "I developed this pulp while at the wall, which helped him...well, enough so he could get on his horse. Brienne also had to partake of this when she became afflicted, unfortunately she was still off her game."
Her mother sighed. "It's a shame...Brienne was on form..."
This was fascinating...her eyes wandered to the flap of the tent. Every movement, and gust of wind made her think someone was going to enter. And that someone being her cousin, the only family member that wasn't in attendance. She touched her face as she craftily checked the people about her, to see if they noticed her shifting closer to the flaps, about to slip out. She was out as soon as her hand caught the material, and it flicked shut behind her.
People were passing by the tent frequently, and she saw no faces she knew well. She stumbled into step with the crowd, searching, and finally broke away into a pocket of emptiness, the amount of people diminished. She was relieved because it would help her survey better. Sansa looked back from where she had came, to see if Jon was at least on his way to her brother's tent. I thought he loved Robb like a brother? A male presence drew close and she looked up with a sigh of relief, and gulped upon the sight of a stranger. Not him. They merely nodded at her in courtesy, and proceeded on, she did too, in the other direction to spare her embarrassment. That could have been the knight. She spotted people dithering, people in bastard black, or in blue wool, and at times she believed it was her cousin talking to folk, but as soon as she drew near she would be stabbed with disappointment. Not him. Where was he? She was rushing now, around the outskirts, looking back in on the mass, she saw nothing familiar. Perhaps he had sought Alyanne?...The only luck he could get. It left a taste in her mouth. Gods. She doubled back, returned near to her brother's tent to peer in, and found her family still talking to Robb. She left again. Some sister you are! She spun on the spot, as people passed her, everything slowing down, and empty emotionless faces reared and floated away, disinterested in her plight or being. He had left her, for good.
She felt like crying, it was just stuck inside her, being quelled by a trained muscle in her throat, and a few keen spectators probably desperate for a crying vulnerable woman. She turned away from them all and walked into a strong reassuring presence. Jon. Jon had his arms up as if about to receive a hug from her, it very nearly was, her hands fell on his waist. "Oh...I was worried!" She blinked fiercely. Could have easily been a flutter though.
His hand came up as if to touch the side of her hair by her ear. "Yeah...err...why?" It was almost sharp, a complete contradiction to what he was doing. She balked at the comment, but then realised she shouldn't really be saying things like...being worried...But you're gonna.
"I thought you were slighted...I thought you had left me, to punish me." Hold your tongue, how can you admit this? She sucked in her lips. You have played right into his hands, missy, that's the exact 'why' he was asking for. "Forgive me?"
"I don't...know...what for, m-my lady." He said with narrowed eyes and a quick tilt, his finger touched her ear, and she didn't know why, but she very nearly buckled before him. "I wasn't t-trying to... punish you, neither was I angling... for an apology...what have we-we come to... if...if two cousins get grouchy over...over..." He seemed to be dazed, and he did a very hard blink. "I'm falling..."
Her breath shuddered. "What?..." It was airy, and she still hadn't stopped touching him. "Falling in-?" His head came forward. Oh my. And crashed into her shoulder and neck. Gods she thought he was going to... His knees buckled and he started to collapse between her hands. What the? His head actually fell into her breasts and then down, his face scraping over her bodice, luckily she bowed away slightly or else his face would have ended up in her crotch. "Oh my gods, Jon!" She saw his eyes had rolled back, and she came to her senses then, and caught him before he fell completely into the mud. He had fainted? He had fainted? Had she caused that? "Lord Snow?!" She had to prop him up with her knee, and bent over him to shield him from unwanted eyes. Again people would be staring at her, but for other reasons. She ran her fingers through his hair, mainly to get it back into the right place. Soft if not a little moist. Finally someone padded over to help.
"Oh dear...had a bit too many?" She heard Harry's unforgiving and patronizing tone, and felt like swinging at him. She felt a hand on her stooped back, and he put himself into a helpful shielding position, so he was at her shoulder but in grabbing reach of her cousin. "Bastards are known to drink away their sorrows...and...have a good old time."
"Lord Harding, please..." It wasn't a beg, it was an annoyed request. He pulled himself together and assisted Jon to his feet, and he put her cousin's arm around his own shoulders to escort him to a marquee, it happened to be Brienne's, whom luckily was decent. But she stood as if she hadn't been.
"My Lords!" She announced, as if she had been intruded upon before, poor woman. Brienne's face however softened upon the sight of her. And yet, she wasn't the damsel in distress, at the moment. "Lord Snow." She was frowning at Jon, and cast forward her chair to be utilized. "I thought he was better?"
Sansa confronted this comment with scepticism. "Better? Was he ill?...Why didn't he say?" She turned to her now seated cousin as if to tell him off for not sharing details of his health.
Harry straightened indignantly after his little stoop. And she remembered she had to contend with him also. "It's called drunkenness, my lady...and at this stage they are in no fit state to discuss it."
She could see him flexing his need/urge to win, by belittling everybody else. "Lord Harding, I wouldn't be any less concerned if it had been drink that had put him in this state, don't patronize me."
She caught sight of Lady Tarth's amusement of the lord's dressing down, and the lady turned away to gather herself.
"But it was drink that put him in this state." Harry was relentless. If he weren't handsome, he would have nothing.
Sansa heard Tarth rustle back to her previous position near them, and her smooth deep voice cut in. "Actually no, my lord, I was in the same state earlier...it's seems an illness befell people in the athletes and squires precinct."
Lady Stark gasped. "An illness...surely not the plague?" And she was in the athletes marquees, breathing the air. She was frightened, and somehow both of her companions looked calm, which made her feel a little silly. "It's not a ridiculous notion...they do come and go."
"My lady, the illness is not from bad air, or disease..." Brienne began in her demure tone. "It is through contamination... which we have tracked down." It is known, she has been talking to Sam.
"Really?" Lord Harding's tone was completely different to what she was used to. And still annoying.
She however mimicked it. "Really?...What is it, my lady?" She would allow Brienne to have her moment in front of the pompous ass. But she had a feeling it was going to be the exact same thing she saw earlier in her brother's tent.
Brienne turned and stooped, and came back around with a cask. "Adulterated ale."
Sansa was about to confer her previous findings, when Harry interjected. "Pffff...if you mean adulterated with alcohol? Then yes. He drank booze to excess. You shouldn't pass the book on drunkenness."
"Like you've never been drunk, my lord." Brienne was brazen, she seemed also to find Harry's need to belittle Jon annoying.
"I don't get drunk." The admittance was startling, and Sansa could hardly believe it.
"So your excuse for illicitly dallying with my friend in the courtyard, would be...?" She had said that, and it felt glorious, especially with the stoic stare she was getting back, followed by a bob of his adam's apple. Had he thought she had forgotten and all was well? "Possibly true love?" She finished with not a trace of bitterness, she was over it. She kept her face open for his explanation, and clearly so was Lady Tarth, for she had folded her arms.
"A...moment of weakness..." He cleared his throat, and fingered his doublet. "If you were a man...you would know of the...temptations...especially of a...wanton woman."
Sansa rolled her own eyes. "Of course, because Jeyne I'm sure was gagging for it..." Your argument is invalid...Jeyne was gagging for it...Anyhow- "And maybe even a dotting husband would have suddenly succumbed to her charms and threw his vows to the wind. Because all men are like you, right?" She did an angry tilt. "I suppose my father doesn't have the ability to say no to a wanton woman?... Perhaps even he has strayed?...For there is no loyalty in the make-up of men." This was one of her rambles, and she hope he heard everything, because he cast his eyes away as if he didn't like what he was hearing.
His small trace of a smile was somewhat unpleasant, and those pearly whites a little tarnished. "I don't speak for all men, but normally... yes." She scoffed at this answer. "But my loyalty to your family is unwavering...and I swear on my honour as a Harding; I will make you happy."
Huh? From the corner of her eye, Brienne unfolded her arms, so Sansa folded her own. "It would make me content if you did the right thing..." She didn't know what that would be...
Harry turned to Lady Tarth. "Could you give us a moment, ser...err...my lady?" Today wasn't his day for winning favour with the ladies.
Brienne shared a look with her, she feared for her, bless, she was afraid too. "My lord, anything you need to say, you can say in front of Lady Tarth. Besides, she will be proof of my chastity...with a man of your reputation."
Tarth's chin dropped to her chest briefly, to try and banish her amusement of that 'burn.' Harry did a nervous and strangely smug chuckle. "I admire beauty, and chastity as well as...common sense. But you should know I'm not a forceful and greedy man. I'm still a gentleman, and I shall wait patiently for your forgiveness." He did a cordial nod. Then wait for an eternity. "For that is all I desire at this moment...and afterwards, your love." She had to respect his lack of shame...and pride.
She could not scoff at that, it would be rude even for her, even if he had been a scoundrel, and not a whimsical one. "It's not my forgiveness you should seek, it is your lover's, I'm not your lover, my Lord. The slight to me is a very mild one, since we weren't courting or betrothed, but you did lead me to the assumption you were after my affections, but that has since been disapproved-"
"-No, my lady, I have every need to fulfil that promise to you, and it is indeed your forgiveness I'm after."
Brienne was getting impatient next to her, lady Stark felt like allowing her to vacate the tent, but she needed a witness, not necessarily protection. "My lady, we must find a-" At that very moment, Podrick flitted into the tent, and stood stunned at the number of people occupying it. It was a second later she wondered why he was there. "Ser Podrick, may I ask...why aren't you tending to your master?"
And for some reason Brienne opened her mouth to answer, but closed it rapidly. Odd.
The squire's stare widened, and he flitted to every person in the tent, including her cousin whom was slumped in the chair. "My master...has...escaped me, I think he must have...gone...for a walk." He had posed that like a question. He always seemed to lose his master.
Sansa tried to smile. "Well, at least he is up and about, he did take a big hit." He could be out there now, looking for her...But first things first.
"I'm sorry, my lady."
She heard Brienne utter, and wondered why?...Oh yeah...she hit him. "No, it's a competition...it was all part of the game, I'm sorry you didn't make it to the final." She was not sorry, may the gods damn her. "You are well?"
"Bruised, but fine, my lady." She said, and her eye cast to the side to survey everybody else, rather sheepishly. This was awkward.
"Pod, could you fetch Lord Tarly, he was tending to my brother?" Sansa clasped her hands neatly in front of her, she was never one to flick her wrist to get someone to do her bidding. He bobbed cordially and reversed out of the tent.
She took a breath, and Harry cut in with a plea, actually coming forward into her personal space. "You must know of my affection for you, my lady..."
"Well, my affections I'm afraid are lost, but if you wish to win my favour. Friendship. Do the right thing..." He cocked his head at her like a dog. "...Either marry the gamekeeper's daughter, or..." She couldn't believe she was going to betray her brother, and glanced up at the heavens. "Ask for Lady Jeyne's hand, she will please you."
Lord Harding wiped at his mouth as if he had had a greasy meal. "You offer me a servant, and a lady in waiting?" It wasn't a question, but clarification of a slight.
The top half of her face remained unchanged. "That didn't seem to bother you before, besides any woman is an option for a lord wife...especially for one...such as yourself." It was a burn.
Harry glanced about him with a seedy grin as if sharing a lewd joke among men, however he was met with a stoic lady Tarth. "I'm sure they're lovely women, but are not material to bring home to meet the family."
"I get the impression you are refusing my generous offer of friendship, my lord?" She glanced down at her clasped hands, bored.
"Perhaps...If...I were to win the tourney, you'd be more-"
"-Susceptible to your charms? I'm not the reward." She scoffed. "You will gain notoriety for defeating my brother, and a little fortune for the overall, but not me." She felt like clicking, she was fast and furious today, perhaps Lady Tarth was a good luck charm? "I must tend to my cousin." That was a dismissal, and she lingered with a hard stare. He didn't seem to budge.
He took a small breath. "He wouldn't be in this mess if he hadn't drunk the athlete's ale, I suppose bastards steal as well?" Then he made his way to the flap. "Tar tar, my lady." And he was gone.
She could finally sigh with relief, but she suddenly felt pressure at her stomach, as Jon's head had fallen against her, and a bleary voice rumbled from it. "Iiis he...goone?...Gods...I thoouught hee neever leeaave." It was slow, and when she felt his head, it was clammy, the curls were clinging to his forehead. It did not look terrible.
Sam entered the tent. "Oh dear...errr...another...victim, I did not know about." He then fussed over Jon, by first moving his head off of her. "You didn't drink more, right?" He offered as he guarded his head with his own meaty hand. "No? Good, perhaps...something...wore off?"
She glanced at Brienne whom was slowly creeping around her to vacate her own tent. "Sorry to have kept you, my lady." She said, actually excusing the odd behaviour, and returned her focus to where she wanted it after Lady Tarth had finally left. "So...What's wore off?...I'd say it's wore on, surely?"
She got another crafty look. "Yeah well, everybody has their own...remedies...and...prescribed...medicines, right?"
"Huh..." She uttered speculatively. "Do you have...that stuff?" Sansa hope he understood, and had it.
"Best not...there seems to be a series of relapses. Robb was fine, and then Jeyne walked in all worried and flustered, and pow! He was reduced to an invalid...not as bad as this though." Sam was shaking his head regrettably. "The heart appears to work against it." She didn't know what to make of that. "Oh, and I forgot to put the lavender in...and I used a little too much belladonna...whoopsie." He chuckled to himself, and he clapped the side of his friend's face. Don't do that!
"I wish I understood your science, but I know a strike won't help an inebriated man." She reached for Sam's unpredictable hand, and Lord Tarly grinned at its intrusion. "You need to work on your bedside manner."
Sam caught sight of the fire in Jon's eyes. "I'm a little rusty, my lady, hence why I forgot my own recipe...and manner." The jar materialized out of his robe's deep pocket. "Could you be a dear...and fetch some lavender, my lady?"
Sansa straightened indignantly, and she saw her cousin hand swipe out to reach for her blindly. Well at least somebody wanted her there. "Very well." She wasn't happy about that. She flitted off, praying she didn't run into Harry again.
Sam focused back on Jon after hearing Sansa's retreating footfalls. "Calm yourself, mate, it's working against it...but once the lavender is in, you can function normally within a half an hour, depending on the freshness and potency of the flower."
His friend blew out air, and the force of it rocked his head back. "Woah." The ranger blinked. "I'm calm."
"Seriously, you're not. Make sure 'that's' gone by the time she gets back." He was mortified, but he would no doubt have a chuckle about it later.
"What's gone?"
Seriously? He tinged. "Your... erection." He uncorked the jar, as Jon lolled his head forward to look, he then tried to cross his legs.
"Ah...shit, I couldn't... feel that. Shit. Woah... It actually feels... numb." Jon tried, shifting uncomfortably.
"You can't feel that? Damn...you are ill." Sam stood, he didn't want to be near it. "Well I can't blame it on excitement then...it's probably another side effect."
"Yer...yer don't think... she...she saw it, do yer?"
Sam swirled the pulp around the jar. "She didn't comment...nor did she look embarrassed, I gather no." Another sigh escaped his friend. "Jon...think of something else, she'll be back in a minute."
"You ju-just said...it's...not...excit...ement!" He grumbled. "It's numb! It's not me!"
"Hey...you know what I've realised?..." The portly gent teased, and Jon cocked his head, not in the mood for a jest clearly. "Robb's probably got one on him as well, in front of his parents. Hehe."
Jon buried his head in his hands. "I should have...have...st- stopped by, to see him...him afterwards." A furious growl erupted from him. "I wanna...I wanna be nor-normal right now, gods be d-damned!" Sam placed a hand on him to stop him slipping off the chair. "I feel like a...like a...weakling."
Sansa stooped near the godswood, and wrenched handfuls of lavender from their stalks, and disturbed a bit of the earth. She heard footfalls, and stilled. Not again.
"Come!...Come on!"
"You are not able, my lord!"
She knew them, and her ears hummed, trying to tune in and calculate whom, and what they were talking about.
"I may...may have took too...too long, but surely it's...it's worth the...w-wait." The man sighed, and seemingly rustled with leaves.
She knew that was her brother, but what on earth was he doing? She braved peeking, and brought her head back again after assessing the situation. She had saw he was on one knee, she could not engage with him now. A feminine voice spoke.
"Oh...So you were testing my patience, were you?" She scoffed, and she imagined 'Jeyne' folding her arms, for that was Jeyne. "Were you going to wait until after or before Theon's proposal to me?" She sounded surprisingly pleasant, despite what was being said. And once again she would have to keep schtum, and hide behind this godforsaken tree.
"Please Jeyne, it's...it's been harb-harbouring for an age. Theon's interest in...in..you...m-m-made me uncomfortable."
"Because you were frightened of a comparison, the same reason you hate my new found intimacy with Lord Harding, you're worried I'll discuss my encounters with my other acquaintances'. I wouldn't do that!"
Sansa dropped to her hunches, half sitting on a root, with the lavender in her lap.
"I know, my little peach." Peach?
"Don't you dare use your endearment to win me over. Your delay put me at a crossroads!"
"Y-you could have said; you...you loved me!"
"What? To a young lord who'd just been given a taste that ruins many men? I was embarrassed I had given myself away so easily. I would have sounded like a fool, you never tell a man you like them."
That sounded rather ridiculous in hindsight, for they clearly liked each other.
"Well at...at least have...have visited me again?!"
"Your personal mistress, your personal whore? No, besides...you put up a distance, as if you felt ashamed. So I waited for a year to see if anything had changed...and you put yourself on the market! So guess what?!...I did too!" The leaves crunched under someone's feet, and Sansa hoped they weren't about to circle the tree. "Theon pursued me for 3 years. Now that was a courtship!"
"I feel b-b-bad I allowed that."
"Allowed...Allowed! My gods, you would have put every man off me, just so I was alone, you didn't want me for yourself though!
"I've grown...and...and Theon...wasn't c-c-courting just you, he had 10 other women he was pursuing in tandem!"
"I don't care anymore. I just needed love."
"S-s-sex isn't love." Robb cried. Sansa was sure she heard a root crack. This was hardly a discussion for a sacred tree. "This quest for love, aimed to slight me...and poor Theon...when...when you changed to...Harry bl-bl-bloody Harding!"
"Harry is a better catch then Theon, I'm sorry to say. I know I was looking for love, but I needed to think of my family and life. I couldn't be a ward's wife, let alone an heir to Pyke!...PYKE!"
Lady Stark very nearly sniggered, it was the tone she used when she was complaining to her.
"Pyke?...You cou-cou-could have eaten f-fish everyday?" He snarked. "And H-h-harry would find a mistress after he has s-sealed the deal...with...with you, he had bridey last n-night, and a b-b-bastard son back home!...B-but never mind that, you will eat like a qu-queen...if you...if you marry me!"
She heard yet another rustle and an 'oof'. Jeyne cackled. "You're mother and father will hate me as your wife, I have brought shame upon my own household...what good would it do joining yours?"
It was relief to know she was thinking of things like that, Sansa had started to believe she didn't care about her reputation.
"They don't despise you, and they will grow to love you once we're settled into our duties, and you have given them healthy grandchildren."
"You said that without a stutter."
"My mind has been broadened with the thought of our future, we will be happy." He sounded exasperated.
A moment of silence followed, and it seemed very certain.
"Alright...I will marry you." She heard a sigh. "But make it known to your father and mother."
Sansa was stunned. Just like that?...So Harry is left with Bridey...and what an apt name! When she pulled herself from her thoughts, she heard the sound of lips smacking. Eugh!
"I love you." He whispered upon breaking from her. "When everything is finalized, write to your parents."
That made Lady Stark smile, and she was sure Jeyne had as well. Her haunches were beginning to hurt, and she was weighing up whether to reveal herself and congratulate them, but the gods intervened- "Lord Stark junior, just the man I was looking for..." She felt cold and sick, the opposite of jubilation. What's he doing here? Then a second later she realised, Oh crap, Jeyne. "I have come to wish you well on your recovery, and blessings-"
"-My lord you have interrupted a very precious moment." Her brother said in stark contrast; there was no falseness to his annoyance. Which told her that revealing herself would have escalated the situation. "Can't you see Lady Westerling and I are-"
"-Well my apologies, my lord, but, you were both decent..." His tone had not faltered, Sansa stood slowly and looked over a branch cautiously to see the infuriating man's profile. "I see the best man has won...and a much suited prize." He did a semi-salute with a drawl of a smile, and she retracted back, and looked to the opposite side for a reaction to that.
Robb was perplexed, and was holding Jeyne about the waist possessively. Definitely a picture from one of her books. "I'm not going to argue with that." And she swore he was about to grin, she flitted to Harry's side of the tree, well, the side in which she could see him to gauge his face.
"By that..." Harry fingered an imaginary moustache. "-I meant, the lord master get's first choice...and, of his first choice. Very fitting...you are a very keen and passionate man...and the same can be said of your... chosen. Ah yes, I'm acquainted with charming Jeyne, and...so is the rest of the north."
That was a slight right? She whipped her head back to her brother's side. Jeyne was sharing a shrewd look with Robb.
"Careful, my lord!" He called across, Jeyne was scandalized, and appeared to tug up her dress so it was more modest.
"You are offended? Then...I'm sorry." It was false sincerity, and Harry twitched some leaves with his boot. "I was merely pointing out I understand the enthusiasm...and how clearly suited you are, nothing more." Harry craftily approached, and Robb drew his future wife back, Sansa noted Jeyne did not meet his eye. Which was understandable. "I take it you have made plans?...I wish you well, and my family would love to send a gift in celebration of your upcoming nuptials." He had looked at their feet as he had said this, smiling very dimly. "Unless I'm mistaken with my assumptions?"
Robb and her friend shared a dignified look. "You're not, we are to marry." Jeyne however still failed to meet Harry's eye.
"And officially legitimise your affections and intentions, good good."
Robb was watching Lord Harding's footwork as if they were duelling. "Is that why you're here? To confirm and wish us well?...You took a risk." It sounded almost civil and bantery.
Harry chuckled. "I always call upon my fellow athletes...and since we are rapidly approaching the final of your lordship's tourney...I was hoping to forge a friendship, we have hardly spoke, you and I."
Sansa wouldn't have believed that, hadn't she had known Harry intended to her. He was clearly hoping to make the transition to brothers-in-law more smooth.
"With good reason, my lord, but why waste time?...You only have a few more hours, and you'll be returning to the vale shortly, and hopefully...in one piece." Robb commented, and a smile slipped onto his features, and Sansa panned over to oversee his opponent.
The sniping wasn't over however. "I hope my past dealings with your fiancée haven't ruined our future?"
She heard her friend gasp, and Sansa immediately whipped to that side of the tree to observe. Her brother's face was hard, and he was straining not to bare his teeth, trying to drag his lips over them to maintain calm. "Your past dealings are not to be mentioned again."
"Of course, out of courtesy and admiration for you and your family, I have chosen not to mention it again...as long as I am able...and happy." His face split with a quick smile, and Robb reached for the hilt of his blade.
"Do not think to blackmail me, my lord." It reverberated through her bones, and she shuddered. Is that what he meant though?
Lord Harding mockingly gasped. "My lord, you have me down as a weasel, clearly my accolades have proven otherwise? I'm strong and...I'm loyal to your household, I'm friends with your Aunt Lysa and your cousin after all."
Sansa screwed her eyes up, and Robb strangely mirrored it. "Are you?..Why would they adore a man who's looking for dead man's shoes?"
"I never said she adored me." He was quick and collect. "However our respect for each other is mutual. She understands hierarchy, and is aware of the precarious position she is in, and I'll treat her well regardless." The man sounded like a politician, but he was as threatening as a King.
Robb conveyed boredom. "What are you after, Lord Harding?"
"Politeness, my lord, and a promise to you that I'll maintain the alliance between the two domains. Simply that, my lord, and my... obedience on other matters." He bowed his head, and shifted as if he was about to leave, but slowly turned in the fallen leaves, with an arched brow. "And I hope... to make a good impression upon your dear sister."
Sansa hugged the tree at this point, and heard her older brother make a very definitive move. "The only way you could do that, would be if she was blind and deaf!"
Harry feigned shock very well. "My lord, don't rebuff my politeness. I merely wish to reinstate the true purpose of a tourney. And if I win, I don't want to be overlooked." He trudged off after a cordial nod, but her brother very nearly followed if not for Jeyne pulling him back.
"My lord, forget him. He may be manipulative and think he has somewhat of a grip, but he has no influence over our love and our own power." Jeyne gave him a searing kiss then, and Robb clambered at her, and stumbled. "Whoops, careful...you are still weak." Sansa sat back on her haunches, and prayed they would finish up soon, so she could help Jon.
Sansa rushed to the tent, to find Jon over a barrel, retching his guts up. She froze at the entrance clutching the lavender to her bosom. What good would she do with this? Sam looked over empathically. "Poor old sod, anxiety has got the better of him, he thought you'd forgotten him."
"No no no...I didn't." He said exasperated, spitting the remnants of bile from his mouth.
"I would never, just-" She was conscious of who knew what? "-I was ambushed by some news, dear cousin." She shuffled to be closer to him, and his eyes were glistening...it haunted her. "My...err... brother has recovered quickly from his affliction, one would think you would soon follow...since you both had the same thing." She set the flowers down in front of Lord Tarly, he took them and scalped them from their stalks and bunged them into his jar of curiosity. "I feel you might have taken a more substantial amount than my brother..." She raised her brows for an answer.
"Tha-that I did, pr-probably." He uttered sheepishly, and his smile was charming. Gods be damned. She pulled up a chair next to him and sat on the side that was opposite to Lord Tarly. One of Jon's warm hands went to her knee, and she found herself checking Sam could not see, shooting Jon a look of warning, which he did not register. Bless him. "W-was Robb alright?"
"Yess..."
And her cousin seemed to sense she was unfinished and continued to stare with his head cocked over the barrel. "Robb is...?"
She needed to define 'alright?' Sansa rolled her eyes, and leant towards his ear. "Robb's engaged to Jeyne, and as of yet, only Harry and I know." She sat back, and he followed suit, surprised.
"Was...he...he...in the...Godswood at-at least?"
She folded her arms and stared off. "Yes."
"Was it...ro-romantic?"
She thought for a moment. "Mmm...eah." She shrugged, and smirked at the chuckle he emitted. They heard a pummelling sort of noise, and found Sam trying to pester the lavender into the mixture with a block of wood. With the distraction, she leaned towards him again. "They survived an inquisition from Lord Harding."
"I...I...suppose you...inter-intervened, my lady?"
"Nope, they were good on their own."
"Were you eav-eavesdropping my lady, be-behind the tree? Habit of yours...isn't it?"
She gaped. "I was gathering the lavender that grew there...for you." She sighed.
"Were y-yer'... gathering it... when I was... t-talking to the King's messenger?"
She was mortified, and his chair creaked as he turned towards her fully, looking very alert. She clucked her tongue at him. "No, I wasn't." She shifted to cross her legs under her skirts, and Jon's hand subsequently slipped off, but returned to the knee that was on top, when her position was finalised.
"Yer' weren't gatherin'...or...or...yer-yer' weren't there? We've already established you were there, the necklace remember?" He was the devil.
She chuckled, feeling her face warming up. "I don't-"
"-Done." Sam announced, and bumbled over towards them. He handed the jar to Jon, but didn't release for fear of his friend dropping it. "Down in one, no savouring." Sam ordered and watched her cousin gather himself, but not before clocking Jon's other hand on her knee, which she carefully brushed off.
Lord Tarly guided the jar to his lips, and despite the impending concoction slipping towards his mouth and waiting gullet, Jon was persistently side-eyeing her. Schtap!
"Well..." She slapped her thighs as she stood, while he chugged. "The two of you don't need me for this." His eyes were becoming less pink, as his throat seemingly bobbed to the rhythm of her heart. "I'll... hunt down for Roslin or Gilly-"
Jon detached from the jar seeking air. "Oh no you don't, I'm your chaperone."
Sam quirked a brow at her, she didn't like that. "See...he's getting better already." He took the now empty jar from him, there was still some sludge. "I think I'll see if I can stretch this out, in case we have another victim."
Her cousin arose with a slight wobble, and Sansa's hand flew out, but retracted when he grabbed the chair. "This isn't a good idea." She commented as he stubbornly straightened to her height. "Why were you even drinking?..You said you'd gone to place a bet."
Their companion frowned. "Did he now?"
Sansa shared a look with the pair of them. Why...was he lying? She rounded on him."You weren't?..."
"I was." Jon said quickly. "Lost...didn't I?"
She could not fathom him. "You saw?..." And he nodded. "You watched...from a far...away from me." Her hand moved to her waist. "Then you drank away your sorrows?" That was a wide stare he was giving her, she drew her lips in to wet them. "In the space of 5 minutes?"
Sam was balking "She's good, ain't she?"
"It's not brainy to notice a time discrepancy..." She began with a voice edging with annoyance. "You clearly began drinking as soon as you abandoned me. Since the results from my brother's round were recent, not enough time to get like this...yeah I know it wasn't just drink, adulterated stuff, alright!...But why not seek my brother out to check on him?" There was a stunned silence. "Because the reason you drank wasn't because of my brother...as far as I'm aware you didn't even know he was injured."
"I bloody did, Sansa."
"Oh yes, you were there...clearly in a stupor." Sansa walked away, her hands still on her hips. "Not happy."
Sam stepped in. "Well clearly Jon was under a bit of stress, so he took a sip, come on, my lady, you were defending him earlier from 'that prick.'"
Sansa turned to them. "Alright, it was just Jon thinking he was taking a harmless drink, fine." She didn't know why she was digging, because clearly after the joust she believed Jon was upset because she had rejected him. She hadn't. "Sorry...I'm rattled." She patted the sides of her head, a few strands had come loose.
"Let's just...get out there and enjoy the rest of the festival, shall we?" Jon touched upon her sleeve, and she proceeded out, with him tailing her. "I'll buy you a lemon cake."
Gods, not her weakness. "I still have some left over from the night before."
"Shall we find it?"
She frowned. "We don't have to, right now."
"Pity, I was going to feed it to yer'..." Jon uttered rather shyly, and she steered herself away, her heart hammering so fast it was a hum.
"Oooo booy." She wasn't going to say that out loud, but she did, and Jon sniggered as he tailed her skirts.
"Grown man, thank yer' very much. And yer' know more than yer' letting on." He caught up with her, and fingered her elbow to illicit another reaction, it was like a knee jerk reaction of sorts.
"Oh, Errr...?" She was blinking rapidly, and it got worse when he got in front of her, to scrutinize. "I don't..."
"-Want to talk about it?" He was both determined and sheepish. "You were behind that tree, so let's go back to the scene of the crime." He scooped up her elbow and began to steer her.
"No...we're missing the-" She was trying to put her brakes on, namely her shoes, and look about for any events on, that would make a good excuse. "Ooo the blacksmith is specializing in custom belts-"
"-Nope." Jon chuckled as he coaxed her. "Come on, my lady, people seem to open up more when they're next to that tree."
"That's just wishful thinking, my lord." She was actually walking herself at this point, resistance was futile. Perhaps it was the tree? They reached the godsforsaken tree, and Sansa felt the audacity to fold her arms, and it was mirrored by him when he turned to face her. How dare he! "What?"
"What conclusion did yer' draw from eavesdropping behind this tree?"
She gave him a hostile stare. "Are you kidding me?! I'm sure it was a private discussion, and no assumptions should be made!...But...err...Jeyne was in accord."
"Your next answer better not be anything to do with Robb and Jeyne...nor your penchant for gathering lavender."
Her stare cracked. "You're taking this very gleefully, you know? Me supposedly...knowing." And he just shrugged. "And it doesn't seem like you are pleased with this...actual thing." She did air quotes with her fingers. "So...this thing won't change how I feel, by the way, you're not getting any special treatment." Was she going to tell him that? Seriously, or was she telling herself? "Mainly, because you are unhappy about this, and considering my conclusions...you have every right to be...annoyed." Her hands were praying. "But supposing the outcome...is you are...accepted...and acknowledged, whether that be...something you want." The terrain was uneven, and she felt like she was trying to own the ground she was walking on to empower her, and yet Jon remained still, and it gave him an edge. Sansa swallowed. "You said you hated your father...and you hated the King...and he is being helpful for some reason?..."
Jon's face was less smug, and more appeasing. "Go on."
"I said it." She shrugged with a little anxiety.
"Round it up."
Her mouth was dry. "I did, just without saying it, because...you didn't say it on the day."
"Say it now."
She resisted the urge to swish her skirts. "King...Rhaegar is your father."
There was an affirmative silence, where he was appraising her. "There it is."
And she blew out air, and reached for her updo. "It's true?"
"The big secret, yeah..." He was now walking like her, as if he was about to ramble. "But as you said, nothing can really change...but there is relief that someone else knows." Jon leant on the tree, and it was this casualness that made him look...For gods sake. "And it's good that yer' not...err."
Sansa gave him a speculative eye. "-Erm, not talking about it with other people?"
"Yeah." He said, but she knew that wasn't it. "You have...no falsehoods... and flattery for me."
That sounded awful. She looked to her feet. "Sorry I treated you poorly."
"You don't. I'm just glad it didn't suddenly change because you knew..."
Sansa felt weird about it, enough to indeed change, but he seemed against it- "You weren't happy, and... " He just said you didn't treat him poorly. "I don't need a reason to be nice, and to like you...especially not that. I just really like you."
He looked at her with hooded eyes, from the shade of the tree. His eyes were already dark enough as it is. "You've said." A smile ghosted his lips, and he returned to looking downward as if embarrassed.
"Well I'm glad you concur..."
"-Sorry, I like you too."
Sansa wasn't waiting for that, there was no disputing that. "As I was going to say; I'm glad you concur...otherwise...you were testing my vanity and...greed."She awkwardly clasped her hands in front of her, casting her eyes between her feet and him.
"I never doubted you, I know you're not truly a social climber, I mean...you were aiming for the potential second heir of the Vale." His voice dipped. "And it felt more like... it was your mother's idea."
"Hey...She has the same ambition as me...very little...I think she was aiming for respectability. No ambition. It's just maintenance of a good reputation." He was rewarding her with full on eye contact. She could actually feel her breast heaving against the material of her dress. "Soo...What's...the King like?"
It looks like he doesn't know where to start. He rolled his eyes, and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Ah, I was waiting for an actual opinion on the matter, but you want my opinion before you give your verdict."
She slowly made her way over. "Well... I've never met him, and I always thought I would someday, but now..." She turned, so she could settle against the tree next to him, there was room, it was a wide one.
"You don't?"
"Not sure anymore if to jump at the chance. But I suppose if he seeks a relationship with you in future, my family will all have to meet him. Not just mother and father. Not to mention the whole...Warden Of his north thing."
"You lot would make it more tolerable if I did meet him again, he would have to be as vague as possible, since he is adamant to keep me a secret. You could argue over affairs of state, and independence...and he could go off on one about trying to unite the kingdoms. You know...he wanted Robb to marry Daenerys."
She looked shrewdly at his profile. "I hear she is the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms..." She sensed him become still, and she wondered if he had met her?...Gods, they'd probably have fallen in love, giving how handsome they both- "I bet Robb would have jumped at the chance." She felt she had swallowed something bitter.
"Well, my father would love to hear that, he was hoping at the next Harrenhal to introduce the pair of them...but this festival came first, and he didn't get an invite...kept asking me if I had been invited, told him nothin'" He chuckled then, it was contagious, but she could not go as deep as her cousin. "He found out though."
"Is he...mad?" She said after everything had calmed, she rolled onto her side, the bark catching some stitching.
"You mean mad or...Mad?" He said looking at her with a crazy stare.
She returned it. "You know."
"He's a good King, better than his father. So, he's alright in that department. It's the father thing he doesn't get."
Didn't Rhaegar already have legitimate children? "What do you think of your half-brother and sister?"
"They don't know I exist, I think, so... I don't have an opinion of them. All I know is that Aegon is quite sickly, and he was hoping once he got better, he'd bring him to the next Harrenhal and either marry you or Arya off to him."
She gaped. "So he's just mapping out his whole kingdom on the backs of us?"
Jon rocked his head in a nod. "Yeah...great ain't he?" His hands twitched in his pockets. "But I sort of put a cork on that..."
"Well...thank you, on behalf of my sister." A bit of her hair snagged on the tree and she inclined her head forward to free it.
"What about you?..Not grateful to your cousin that you weren't forced into a marriage with a sickly prince?"
Sansa raised her finger, far enough so he could see it. "He may be sickly...and a Targaryen, southern, prince, but he might be decent. Probably a shy retiring gent, that only picks up a sword when provoked..." Sansa stared out into the forest, a thought whirring through her mind. "Oh my god!"
"What?! What?!" He pushed off the tree, without his hands leaving his pockets.
"The Knight!...Of course, the knight!" Her cousin looked weary, perhaps he did know, or had a hunch? Well of course he knew, he said he knew him, didn't he...didn't he?...Wait, that might have been a false memory? "The knight, it's Rhaegar isn't it?!"
Jon was staring and shaking his head, almost...relieved? "Don't think so..."
"Oh..." She curbed her enthusiasm. "It's Aegon, isn't it?!" She said and clapped her hands. "The return of Aegon!"
He squinted and shook his head again. "Are you kidding?...He's not Aegon the Conqueror reborn! It's not him."
"Did you share a blood oath to keep this secret?...It's Benjen, isn't it?"
"You seem to think I know...and you think I should tell you." Jon laughed into a dip. "Please stop guessing, my lady!"
She raised her hands in mock defence. "I had the impression you knew him, my lord."
"Know of him." Jon corrected while not looking at her, his hands still hadn't left his pockets, it gave him a lot of swagger. "When the time comes, you'll find out." He shrugged, and it took a bit of his swagger away.
"So you'll set up an introduction of sorts? I'm a little nervous around strangers...and... I value your opinion, and protection...if need be." Sansa felt like she was bartering, and she gave him a squirmy smile when his eyes fell on her, which he returned.
"Yeah, of course...Yer' faith means the world to me, my lady." And in that second, she saw a 14 year old Jon standing before her, wringing his hands.
"And since we're doing the rounds..." She felt itchy, and her stomach lurched. "You could introduce me to Alayne Stone, you could reassure her I'm shy around strangers too..."
He coughed, and he too seemed to itch, his hand left his pocket and scratched his ear. "Yeah...about that."
Sansa had a notion of what he was going to say, and both options had a 'No' in it. She prepared herself, squaring her jaw. "Hm?"
"I think it's obvious by now..." His chin dropped to his chest, and he sighed, exasperated. "Alayne, doesn't exist." He said it as if his mouth was full of bile. "I made her up."
Ha! I knew it! It was like the monster inside of her had been vanquished, and replaced with another monster. "What?...Why?" She felt her lips threaten to smile, but she disguised it as a yawn. She shouldn't let the thought tickle her, he'd suffered enough. She saw him shuffle leaves with his boot. Bless. "You didn't have to lie, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." She said in earnest. "There were a few people there that night without chaperones..." She heard herself, and she knew she was included in 'the few.'
"Yeah...I know." There was a lilt towards the end, followed by a burning stare. That he was very good at. "So your theory on why I invented someone is...embarrassment?"
Why did she suddenly feel small? She nodded half-heartedly. "Yeah..."
Her cousin pursed his lips. He never did that. He fell back against the tree. "You'd be wrong."
Her smile was a straight lipped one, that only someone clueless and possibly embarrassed could do. Oh...Oh...Oh. "Oh..." That was the only response to the revelation, which was obvious by now because of everything that had transpired in the past hour, well two hours.
"What do you say to that?"
Sansa frowned. "I was about to ask myself the same thing." A very scatty, awkward...and almost simpering silence followed, with a lot of thumb twiddling and cagey side-eyeing. There was a surge in the air, Jon turned, and she took a much needed breath. He was almost on top of her, she could feel his exhale on her chest. It was then she felt naked, and since she was a prude, she felt as nervous as hell. She remembered when his bearded face had fell on her breast during the fall, it was shocking because it was so intimate, but with the horror, she had felt excited by the sudden stimulus. A warm beard on soft lukewarm bosom. Who knew they could mix? She could never shake off that feeling again. Would anything feel as good? Oh Gods...was this...was this what being horny felt like? Imagine the people that weren't prudent, that were confidant, that indulged on their every whim, they would be at it like rabbits all the time if they felt what she felt. She swallowed. "Jeyne's got a g-good future ahead of her." It was the most feminine she had sounded, so airy and smooth. She blinked across at her cousin's very close face, he suddenly looked confused, but his skin was redder than usual, it looked like he had just recovered from a fall, and was sort of...hugging the tree, caressing it. Like a lover.
"Err...yer', considering her escapades...yer'" He blew out a whistle. "It seems giving in and indulging yourself, pays off." The bark he caressed made a soothing crackly noise.
Shit. "To her." She straightened her posture, and cleared her throat. "She was lucky."
"Yeah, she went about it all wrong though, she should have been careful and vigilant at all times...when she was having a...nooky."
"Nooky?...No no, I'll assume that's...anyway." She thumbed scattily back towards the castle. "The festival."
"Hey." He rasped gently, his hand seeking her, and she looked for affirmation, his smile was kind if not naughty, she quivered. "This isn't a fleeting thing...or on a whim." His thumb caressed her knuckles. "I can feel your curiosity in me, and the affection you have bestowed... has been received and...hopefully returned enough to warm you, it's addictive...and I'm...thirsty."
Her mouth had gone dry, perhaps she was thirsty too? Sansa dropped her eyes to their joined hands, her lips were quivering. "Oh..." Was she being wooed?
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