Jon Snow swung with all his might at his would-be attackers, instantly knocking the boy to the ground. He did the same to his other opponents, ending the sparing match instantly.
"Well you've done well Lord Snow, you're the least useless person here!" Ser Allister Thorne sneers, dismissing the boys. Jon couldn't help but grit his teeth at his new nickname as he walked over to the armory to go put away the dulled swords and padded chest armor.
"Nice moves out there, Lord Snow," one of the boys teased, angrily tossing down his dull sword with the others.
"Not my fault you don't know how to wield a damn sword" Jon spits, shrugging off his leather armor.
"Don't push me bastard," the boy growls, him and his friends taking a few steps forward.
"Ah, there you are Jon, I was hoping we could have a word" Tyrion calls from just outside. The boys glare at him as they walk out of the armory and Tyrion walks inside.
"Word of advice, don't actively try to make them hate you," Tyrion says as he wanders inside.
"They only hate me because I'm better than them!" Jon shouts at the little man.
"No, they hate you because you flaunt it. Not all of them had the luxury to train with a master-at-arms. You need to stop alienating them through your standoffish attitude and combat skills" Tyrion advises, walking closer to Jon. Jon stays quiet, he wasn't very keen on the idea of making nice with the others. He liked keeping to himself, just him and Ghost.
But he couldn't live like this for the rest of his life.
"Just something for you to consider" Tyrion mumbles, walking back out of the armory, leaving Jon to his thoughts and all of his thoughts wandered back to her. He recalled how they teased him his first day for the ring on his finger. Ser Allister asked him if he was married, with a sick smirk on his face. Jon only muttered a faint "it's my mothers" before sulking back to his chambers.
He didn't want to explain to them that it was a gift from the girl he loved. He didn't want to speak about her, it would only bring her to this desolate place full of hungry eyes. He didn't want any of the others to think about her. For now, she was his and his alone.
"Jon"
Jon snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see his uncle Benjen standing in the doorway.
"Walk with me," he said simply, walking past the doorway. Jon got up and pulled on his raven feathered cloak which was given to him when he arrived. He followed his uncle from the armory and up the wall. They walked a little bit along the Wall's icy structure, stopping at one of the vantage points to look out into the Haunted Forest.
"I'm going out ranging into the Haunted Forest on the morrow" he said lazily, continuing to peer out over the wall.
"I want to go with you,"
"No, you're not ready"
"I am ready"
"No, you're not. Here it's different. Here every man gets what they earn and not before they earn it. Here no one gives a damn about titles or anything that happened before they came here. Every man must earn everything they get" Benjen explains, glancing back at Jon.
"When I return you'll be a full-fledged brother of the Night's Watch, you'll see," he said with a small smile, patting Jon on the shoulder as he walked away. Jon hoped his uncle would return soon. His uncle was the only one he felt he could truly talk to. Jon continued to walk the wall, trying to clear his head. He walked until he couldn't walk anymore and rode the shaft back down the wall and to his chambers where Ghost was waiting. Jon pulled off his boots, cloak and climbed into bed, drifting off, wishing he was someplace else.
He was back. Standing in his snowy patch amidst the grassy plains. And there she was, in a long flowing red dress that billowed behind her as she walked. It was the older version of her again, with long white hair and more curves and those beautiful dark purple eyes. Gods how he missed her.
"Hello Jon," she said with teary eyes as she stood before him.
"What's wrong?" he asked her, wanting to take her in his arms and wipe those tears off her cheeks.
"I just miss you is all" she mumbles looking at him sadly. He tries to step towards her, feeling a need to comfort her, but he couldn't move. She gave him a small smile and offered him her hand. He slowly took it and he was able to leave his patch of snow and pull her into his arms. He held onto her tightly, silently begging her not to let go.
"Whatever it is, it'll be alright. I love you" he whispered softly, placing a kiss on her forehead, which felt really warm to the touch. Unusually warm.
"Is everything alright? You feel warm" he mumbled, placing his lips on her forehead again to be sure. Could she be sick where ever she was? She gave an emotionless laugh in response.
"This is how I am now, I'm warm" she replied pulling away to look into his eyes.
"You made it south?" he asks hopefully, her smile turns into a sad one.
"In so many ways" she answers nervously.
"But you're safe?" he continues to press, placing his hands on her arms to survey her.
"Yes my love, I'm safe" she answered back softly, moving up her right hand to cup his cheek. But then everything started to fade. Her face started to become blurred.
"Wait! Not yet, just a few more minutes" he begged softly, trying to hold onto her but he couldn't, something wouldn't let him.
"I'm sorry Jon," she said quietly, placing a ghost of a kiss on his left cheek before she vanished.
The next few days felt strange like Jon was in a fog of sorts. He tried to be a bit kinder to the other lads, giving them tips and pointers on their stances and swings during practice. Ser Allister Thorne still seemed to hate him but at least he had a couple people he could talk to. He had gotten a letter from her the previous day. It was a long-winded letter explaining how strange court and the south was, how she finally felt warm for the first time in months and everything else she could think of to say. It brought a smile to Jon's face whenever he read it, which turned into a nightly ritual. He was still thinking of what to write back, or even if he should.
He needed her to forget him and move on. He needed her happy and if that meant forgetting him he could live with that. He also needed her to be safe. If anyone ever found out about what they did in Winterfell, she'd be shamed, kicked out from the court, killed maybe. He knew Robb would never allow that to happen, that Robb would keep her safe. But from what she told him of what happened at the river, he wasn't sure she could escape the Queen's wrath if it came down to it and Jon wouldn't be able to protect her.
Never the less, Jon couldn't shake her from his thoughts. He longed to tell her about his time at the wall, his travels, anything he could think of. He was walking along the wall, thinking of how he could tell her about this view when he saw Tyrion, pissing off the edge of the wall.
"What are you doing?" Jon asked, too tired for formalities.
"Fulfilling an old ambition of mine, I'm leaving on the morrow" he explains, pulling his pants back up.
"Well, I'll be sorry to see you go" Jon mumbled earnestly. Tyrion turned and looked at him curiously.
"Funny, I didn't think you liked me very much" Tyrion mumbled with a laugh.
"No, I like you well enough" Jon replied.
"You're one of the few...so what can I do for you, Lord Snow?" Tyrion asked in a teasing manner.
"I wanted to say goodbye, Castle Black won't be the same without you," Jon said quietly.
"That's very kind of you, but there's something else, I can sense it," Tyrion said walking over to Jon.
"The Lady Rhaella Targaryen, I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye on her, make sure she's safe" Jon requested, trying to make it seem more formal than it actually was.
"Ah, I see. You want to make sure your lady love is safe and sound" Tyrion teased, walking past Jon.
"She's not my lady love" Jon grumbled, feeling his cheeks start to heat up.
"Right, of course not. You're at the Wall, she's betrothed to your brother. She's a lady now and you're a bastard. And what would people say about her if they found out she was in love with a bastard? Ned's bastard to be exact" Tyrion lectured his hands crossed behind his back.
"Hey!" Jon snapped, feeling the anger seize his chest, making his knuckles turn white.
"Of course, I apologize, I'm told I have a big mouth," Tyrion said, hands raised in defense.
"But I will do as you request, I will make sure she stays out of trouble...any other requests?" he asks.
"You're a smart man, I would also appreciate it if you could help Bran" Jon asked, taking a deep breath, unclenching his fists.
"I'll lend my assistance any way that I can" Tyrion replied with the nod of his head.
"Thank you," Jon said simply, watching as Tyrion walked past him, making his way to the shaft to get down the wall.
"Of course, we bastards have to stick together"
"But you're not a bastard" Jon mumbled in confusion.
"All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes" Tyrion mumbled back as he walked away. Leaving Jon once more to his thoughts. Thoughts that always wandered back to her.
It felt odd, lying to Jon. But it was only a minor white lie. In my letter, I told him I had finally felt warm, but that couldn't be any farther from the truth. I still felt cold, but not as often. I did my best to blend in at court, wearing silks and thin dresses, but I kept my hair in a northern hairstyle, with a braid or two. But at night, I still slept with a roaring fire, covered in furs with Winter laying right next to me.
I stayed in the Red Keep, with the other members of the royal family as I was now their ward. I missed the Stark girls who stayed in the Tower of the Hand. I missed sword practice with Arya and I even missed hearing Sansa's daydreams and rants about Joffery. But I was a lady now, Lady Rhaella Targaryen and I would see them again at the Hand's Tourney. Something I was sure Ned didn't approve of. The castle got lonely very quickly. Winter and I took to wandering it more often than not. In fact, that was about all we did.
One day while we were wandering around, we stumbled upon the empty throne room and there it was The Iron Throne. It was strange to see it, almost like I was in an alternative universe. A universe where my father sat on that chair and my older brother was next in line to the throne. When Rhaegar was married and in love, with another...when I had an older sister. But everything has changed now, well it didn't really change it was just a strange reality. Looking at that throne, I should have felt connected to it, but I felt more connected to the freezing North than that iron chair. Was it only because Jon was in the north? Was he the only place where I would feel like home?
"Haunting isn't it?"
I turned around and Winter moved to stand in front of me as I saw a somewhat large bald man approaching me.
"Forgive me, I don't believe I know your name" I reply as he walks closer making Winter growl.
"Apologies my Lady, my name is Varys, your humble servant," he tells me with a slight smile, doing a small bow in front of me. I give a small nod in reply, recalling what other Lords and Ladies called him. Varys the Spider.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Varys, is there something you needed?" I asked wearily, Winter continue to remain close and bare her teeth towards the strange man.
"Only to introduce myself and offer my services if you should ever require them. Court can be such an overwhelming place and it is hard finding people you can trust. But I wanted to tell you in all honesty that you could trust me. I serve the realm, a realm that doesn't condone the murder of children. So if you ever find yourself in trouble, I'm not far away" he tells me with a smile and a bow before walking past me and out of the room.
"Well that was strange" I mumble quietly to Winter, scratching between her ears to try and help ease her nerves. Slowly she began to relax and we continued our walk outside of the throne room and back to my chambers. I sat down at my vanity and picked up Robb's letter to read it once more.
To My Dearest Rhaella,
It feels strange calling you that, even in a letter. Bran has woken but is in a deep depression. Winterfell seems to be doing well despite everyone's absence. My mother hasn't been quite the same since Bran's fall and has left us as well. I am now the Lord of Winterfell during Father's absence and it is quite strange. I think you'd be much better at this than I am and I'll be glad to have your help with it all when you come back. I miss you and wish you well, I can't wait for your return.
With Love, Robb
It brought a smile to my face to read his letter, but it hurt as well. Honestly, I wish Jon had written me back. I would rather read his letter than Robbs, but this was how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to forget Jon and fall in love with Robb, but I wasn't ready to let him go. I could never let him go.
I hadn't had another Jon dream since the inn and frankly, I was a little sad. It brought him closer to me, even if it was only for a night. I was still confused and couldn't shake how he kissed my abdomen. He was aware of the time gap between us and still. But I couldn't be...could I?
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Winter moved to sit at my side, her eyes locked on the door.
"Come in!" I called, continuing to stare at myself in the vanity, watching through the mirror as Sansa entered my chambers.
"I still think your chamber is bigger than mine" Sansa teased walking over to me, bringing a smile to my face.
"You only say that because Arya's chambers are right next to yours" I laugh back as Sansa instantly picked up a hairbrush and moved towards me. This was how we bonded. We'd appear in the others room and start brushing their hair. It usually meant she had something to tell me though or ask me.
"Have you decided on what you're going to wear to the tourney tomorrow?" she asked as she undid my braids and began to brush out my hair.
"Something red, silks maybe. What about you?" I ask, my mind still wandering a bit.
"I'm going to wear my green dress and put my hair up as the southern girls do. You could do your hair like mine and we could match!" Sansa said in excitement as she continued to brush my hair.
"That sounds really nice, but you know I like to keep my hair down, putting it up like that just gives me a headache" I explain.
"I...wanted to ask you something" she mumbles to me nervously. There it was.
"Of course, what is it?" I ask her with an easy smile.
"What...what is it like to bleed?" she asks me, brushing my hair with less confidence than before.
"Oh, well...it can be a bit painful at times, mainly right before and right as its happening. And after the first few times it happens it becomes routine...your moon cycle will be consistent for the rest of your life, that is until you become with child and then it can change" I explain, trying to think back to when I first got my cycle.
"When did you get it first?" she continues.
"When I was eleven, a bit earlier than most girls. Most girls get it between twelve and thirteen but it isn't bad if it happens earlier or later"
"So how do you know? When it will come?" she asks, stopping and moving to sit on my bed. I turn my chair to face her, racking my brain for memories of when it first happened.
"Well, you might feel some sharp pains on your sides, cramping in your thighs, head pain, it varies from person to person and after a while, it goes away. Like for me, I get a little cramping in my thighs, but its a cycle, it always happens for me on a full moon, like for most women" I explain.
"So two days ago then?" Sansa asked, making me freeze. Was the full moon truly two days ago? Was I late?
"Right, exactly" I mumbled, quickly plastering on my courtly smile.
"Is it very messy?" she asks with a scrunch of her nose making me laugh.
"That depends on the person" I reply, she nods.
"Well I better get back, septa Mordane said I could only visit for a little while," Sansa tells me as she rises from my bed.
"Of course, its good to see you, Sansa, I miss you," I tell her honestly with a smile as I get up as well.
"Feel free to visit whenever you'd like," I tell her as she walks out the door. I quickly move back to my vanity and stare at my reflection, racking my brain for when the previous full moon was, aside from the one two days ago.
I didn't bleed then either...I remember. It was the first night of our travels...and I thought that I was just late then as well. Has a month really gone by so fast? I placed a hand on my abdomen and looked down at it. Could there really be a child in there? Was there even enough room for one? Oh, gods, how was I supposed to hide this? I couldn't hide it, not for very long. I was supposed to be wed to Robb, what would he think? He's a good man, he would claim it as his...but the child would still be a bastard.
My thoughts continued to race as I fiddled with my direwolf ring, trying to think up a plan. Wait...the ring. We could say we were wed before we left, too consumed in love to wait! Yes! That was it! But how could I tell him without raising suspicion?
I paced about the room, praying for answers, praying for Jon to be here to help me. Oh Jon, how could I tell you? I couldn't. He was at the wall...he has probably already taken his vows, a vow not to father children or take a wife. If I told him about what we made, he'd be killed for breaking his vows or desertion. I would just have to tell Robb, write to him about what we supposedly did, that was the only answer. And I couldn't tell Jon, not if it would risk his life.
I quickly sat back down and grabbed some parchment and a quill. I'd have to word this carefully, knowing that it would probably be read by Varys and the Queen before it reached its destination.
My Dearest Robb,
Forgive me my love for I cannot keep our love a secret anymore. Do you remember that night we were wed, in secret in front of the Wirewood tree with the gods and Jon as our witness? Where you gifted me the ring I still wear to this day? Well, the gods have gifted me a child! Can you believe it? You'll be a father soon enough. Forgive me for telling you all of this in a letter but I couldn't wait until our return to tell you the news! Oh my love, please don't be upset with me for telling you this way. I pray we will be reunited and soon.
Your Loving Wife~Rhaella
I quickly rolled up the scroll and tied it with an old ribbon of mine, praying to the gods that Robb would go along with this, that he would pretend to be my husband, for the child's sake, Jon's child. It brought tears to my eyes and made my stomach turn sour. I was having Jon's child, a child made purely out of love, and here I was keeping it a secret from Jon and pretending it was Robb's. How could I do this?
"Marian!" I called, a crack in my voice. My handmaiden quickly entered the room.
"Yes milady?" she asked with a smile.
"Deliver this to maester Pycelle and have him send it to Robb Stark in Winterfell" I instruct. She takes it from me and curtsies as she leaves the room.
"Jon, forgive me" I whisper, a few tears escaping my eyes and trailing slowly down my cheeks. I moved up from my vanity and to my bed, deciding a nap would be best to help calm my nerves. Winter seemed to sense my discomfort and jumped onto the bed with me, laying next to me on my right side, the side that faced the door as I slowly drifted off to a troubled sleep.
I was standing in the snow, dressed in my red silk dress, watching as Jon approached me, tears pricking my eyes.
"What is it Love?" he asks once he reaches me, taking my hands in his.
"I think you already know" I answer as he moves his hand and wipes away one of my tears. He gives me a soft smile in return.
"I do, and I couldn't be happier," he tells me with a genuine smile, bringing a tear-filled smile to my face.
"You aren't upset with me? With this?" I asked gesturing towards my stomach. He only pulls me in for a passionate kiss, wrapping me up in his arms to hold me close.
"Never, I couldn't be more in love with you, with both of you" he whispers to me with a sad smile. I offer a smile in return.
"So we end up back together? If you already know about this, then we must be reunited at some point, right?" I ask, my voice full of hope. His eyes only reveal pain.
"Yes, we will be," he says quietly, lying I'm sure. But I wanted to believe it so badly I didn't care.
"I love you, you and her both mean the world to me. I would do anything for you, anything" he tells me in all seriousness, holding me tightly in his arms.
"Her? It's a she?" I ask, joyful tears continuing to fall down my cheeks. He nods, tears in his eyes as well, but not from joy.
"And she's beautiful, like her mother," he says softly, moving a few strands of hair out of my eyes. I continue to smile, just being in his arms gave me comfort, even if I knew he was lying. Even if I could distinctly hear the pain and sadness in his voice.
"I bet she'll be sweet, like her father" I reply, smiling at him, making his tears start to fall. My nerves only heighten, something was wrong. He knew something, something important he wasn't telling me.
He stays silent as if he didn't know what to say, bringing even more tears to my eyes.
"That's alright, you don't have to say anything about her..." I mumble, bringing my hand up to cup his stubbly cheeks.
"But she's ours, no matter what" I whisper, placing a soft kiss on the other side of his cheek.
"Always" he whispers.