HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
Previously on POTG: Nathalia learns of Robb Stark's possible alliance with Renly Baratheon. Steffon is introduced—and is quite charming. Robb and Nathalia finally meet—much to Jon's jealousy.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Game of Thrones. But it's coming back this April and I am so excited because WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Chapter 20 Rescue Me
*Nathalia*
There are moments when Nathalia would like to take a break from her guardian duties. Her previous journey with Jon seems to cloud her judgment in the morning. All her guardian years, she has never fallen asleep in the arms of a man. Be it in the fear of losing focus or being hurt, Nathalia has never indulged in the feel of flesh against flesh early in the morning. Well, until Jon Snow came into the picture. The first night that they performed intercourse, he has slipped out of her chambers since Alessandra was bound to enter soon. In the days in the wall, they've never woken up together. The first time that they did was after their first night fleeing from King's Landing. They've discovered that their passion only becomes more heated at the first sight of each other's nudity. Since then, it has become a part of her day to look forward to.
"Hmmm," She hums as she feels Jon leave butterfly kisses on her neck. Last night has been different. He became more primal and animalistic, crushing her body against his as soon as their tent was hooked to the ground. Nathalia barely had time to silence the echoes of the room before he had thrown her on the small makeshift bed and almost ripped her gown off. She's quite sure of some exposed lovebites surrounding her breasts and neck and takes a quick note to try and hide them all using powder. "You're passionate this morning," She quips, releasing a loud gasp once he bit her collarbone and proceeded to kiss all the way down her body.
"I can't help it," He takes some time to rest his tantalizing eyes on hers. "You're rather tasty this morning." Then he proceeds to explore her body.
She grips his curly locks hard as his tongue enters her private area. Seven hells! How did he learn to do such things? Her hips buck as the pleasure overtakes her whole body. Jon Snow certainly has a way with his mouth. Before she knows it, she's withering and shaking beneath his kisses. Once she cries out her orgasm, Jon kisses his way up her lips.
"This doesn't have to do anything about last night, does it?" She traces her fingers on his face as he wraps his arms around her with his hard manhood pressing on her belly.
He kisses on the lips…on the nose…on the forehead before he replies. "You mean me noticing how men look at you? Or how that fellow guardian of yours and my brother tried to flirt with you?"
I should have known. She breathes out his name, running her hand through his hair. "You needn't be worried about me flirting back at them, my love."
It seems that her statement is to be rewarded with a kiss on her palm. "I know."
"Then what are you so worried about?"
He claps their fingers together. "That someday you might realize that having a king or a guardian is better than a bastard."
She looks at his lonesome face, surprised that he could think such thoughts. Doesn't he know how special he is to her? How could he think that his ranks would define her decisions about their relationship? "Why would you let those false thoughts cloud your mind? Jon, you are worth more to me than you realize. Do you know how much I dread that you'll someday join your brother in battle and do not return to me?" She lifts a palm on his cheek, ready to voice her thoughts out loud. "Jon, I—I…"
"What?" His grey eyes are waiting and curious.
Feeling uncertainly reigning over her, she shakes her head. "Never mind. Just remember how much you mean to me, Jon. No one is ever going to change how I feel about you." She decides that that statement is enough to express her affection—for now.
He kisses her, long and hard. It came to her mind that no one has ever shown much affection for Jon in his whole life. Eddard Stark must have only treated him as something of a son but has never put him first than Robb—his true heir. Nathalia spins them around, taking control of the situation as she brings back the remnants of last night.
*~*~*~* Player of the Games *~*~*~*
Nathalia never would have predicted that such large a war would start brewing so soon after the last war. The reign of the Baratheon is short and corrupted that it would surely become a laughingstock in the aftermath of these events. No family in Westeros will ever become satisfied with a leader until they've become an ally of the royal family. It is one of the inevitable problems that a guardian must face in watching over Westeros. Sometimes, even guardians' choice of a side to help proves to be futile since their powers are forced to collide with another guardian. This is the reason why whispers are an urgent routine to be sent every day.
That afternoon, Nathalia finds herself among the Northernmen—lucky enough to give advice to the king of the north. She sits patiently on the farthest end nearest to Robb while Jon sits directly in front of her. Steffon has given her a small briefing on Robb's plans before she entered the makeshift council room. Apparently all of them are still smug at their win at Oxcross.
"Jaime Lannister is still complaining with the accommodations that we've given him," Greatjon Umber reports lazily, appearing to look uninterested with the news.
Robb Stark releases a small laugh, "Tell him that he can make a pillow out of his own shit." Hmm, the king seems to have a favourite among his men, Nathalia observes. The rest of the bannermen laugh, all delighted at the fact that their side has captured Tywin Lannister's greatest swordsman.
"What news from King's Landing, Nathalia?" Maege Mormont suddenly addresses her. She is a fearsome woman and obviously strong in character. Her grey hair is braided tighly around her head to stop falling in front of her eyes.
Nathalia sends her a small smile, "My sister tells me of the crown's large debt. Joffrey Baratheon is poor if not for the help of his grandfather's wealth. We could use that to our advantage and say that the king is not fit to provide for his realm financially. The gods know how many of his people are starving. They would want a king to reach out to them—Joffrey is a spoiled and cowardly piece of dirt."
They all release their laughter, agreeing with her statement.
"Lady Catelyn Stark has arrived from King Renly's camp, your grace." Steffon announces, barging inside their meeting.
Robb Stark stops laughing and nods at Steffon. "Very well. Send her in."
Catelyn Stark enters the tent, her blue eyes grave and somehow shaken. The last time that Nathalia has seen her was when she attended the tournament at Harrenhal. She was a passive lady, only speaking to those who addressed her. The guardian never had the chance to talk to her, seeing as she and her fellow guardians are in a meeting with Prince Rhaegar Targaryen to discuss the overthrow of the mad king.
The widowed Lady Stark moves quickly, knowing that no one would object to her standing beside her son. She sends a questioning look towards Nathalia and raises a quizzical brow at Jon's presence. All Nathalia wants to do is to grab Jon's hand from across the long table and give him the comfort he deserves. It is obvious that Catelyn Stark did not treat him like a real son.
"Did King Renly accept our request of alliance?" Robb asks, swaying his mother's attention towards him.
Cately's gaze sweeps the room, pinning every pair of eyes on her. "King Renly is dead."
A noisy haze erupts from the bannermen. Some expresses their belief that Renly was never a good ally and some coming up with new people as possible allies. Nathalia rolls her eyes. Northernmen could never keep their mouth shut to listen. "QUIET ALL OF YOU." She orders, standing and banging both her hands on the wooden table. They close their mouth immediately. Only Jon has an amused look on his face. "Lady Catelyn, my name is Nathalia. I've helped your husband overthrow the mad king." She addresses the stunned lady quickly. "What is the reason for the King's death?"
A shadow appears in Catelyn's eyes, making Nathalia worry what might have been the reason for the young man's death. "I was there…I saw him get killed…it was not a man—no. No man could have looked like a demon and disappeared like smoke."
She feels her own eyes widen in disbelief. "Call for Steffon," Her voice is shaking with shaking with fright. This must be alarming enough for one of the lords to shout for the King of the North's cupbearer. Jon is beside her in an instant, taking her pale face in his hand.
"What's wrong, love?" He asks, placing an arm around her waist and hugging her close to him. She accepts the comfort, leaning her head on his broad shoulder. He always knows how to give her a sense of safety and confinement. They must have questions on why we're this close, she thinks. She takes an urgent breath, feeling slightly lightheaded at the turn of the situation.
"What's wrong?" An urgent voice breaks her out of the cocoon she has created with Jon. She ignores the incongruous reactions from everyone as she turns to her fellow guardian.
"Dark magic," She whispers, loud enough for everyone to gasp in surprise. She tears herself away from Jon to stare darkly on the ground. "We're dealing with dark magic."
*Sansa Stark*
Pain. There is so much pain. Hungry, malicious eyes stare at her as she sobs pitifully on the dirt she's laying in. Sansa has been so consumed by her hatred of Joffrey that she did not care of the people living outside King's Landing. They are bitter people—not caring who is on the throne as long as they are provided rations. Joffrey's order of death fuelled their anger that they started attacking the foolish ruler. Somewhere along the chaos, Sansa finds herself alone as she runs through the small tunnels on the side of the palace. Big, vile men followed her—punching her and looking at her like men in desperate need of water. But they do not need water. They need something else…
"Please! Don't!" She cries, using her hands as a shield.
One man covers her mouth, muffling her screams. "Don't scream girly."
Then amidst of the commotion comes someone who she did not expect to save her.
When she woke up that morning, Sansa knew that something was not right. The past few days have been rough, yes, but nothing of sort has happened to produce such an ache in her belly. She opens her eyes, squinting at the sudden blaze of sunlight on her face. Her hands find their way wrapped around her aching stomach, hoping that the rubbing would somehow stop the pain. She adjusts her seating and gasps at the fluid feeling of her private area. A sob ripples from her, knowing what has occurred during the night. She lifts up her skirt. As soon as she sees sight of the red liquid on her thighs, her fears become true.
"Natasha!" Her voice is hoarse, an easy tell of her current state of panic.
The guardian comes within seconds, making Sansa wonder briefly if she was stationed outside. Shaking her head at the unimportant question, she stands up and grabs a nearby knife on her bedside table. She starts slicing through the sheets, hoping to remove the stain.
"What—?" She stops her query once she sees sight of the red on Sansa's silky white sheets. Natasha moves quickly, moving on the other side of Sansa's bed. "Give me that." She gently removes the knife off her hand, laying it gently on the floor. "Shae!" She calls for Sansa's handmaiden.
The exotic woman comes soon, her eyes widening at the scene playing in front of her.
"Help me turn the bed!" Natasha barks the order, making Shae snap out of her surprised reaction and come forward to grip the edge of the bed.
"If the queen sees…" Sansa sobs. "I can now have Joffrey's children!" Somehow the prospect of marrying Joffrey…letting him enter her and having his babes does not entice her like it once did.
"She won't see this!" Natasha becomes quiet, only focused on removing the evidences of Sansa becoming a woman.
A loud gasp comes from the entryway. All three women stare at the frightened handmaiden staring at them. Sansa looks both at Natasha and Shae, wondering what was going on inside their minds. They would not kill the girl, would they? Her grip on the bed tightens, suddenly afraid of what might happen next.
"The queen needs to know." The girl gasps before running towards the queen's chambers.
Natasha acts quickly as she picks up the knife and pushes it at Shae's hand. "Keep her quiet."
Sansa releases a scandalized gasp. "You would not let her kill the girl, would you?" she asks after Shae hurriedly left.
Her companion remained quiet, looking down at their problem. The young lady knew what that meant. She suddenly feels a vile rise up on her throat. Her protectors are willing to commit a large sin just so she will be safe. The blood of the girl is in her hands now. If the girl didn't see Sansa's moonblood, she would not have been killed so her secret won't spill. Suddenly she feels dizzy. Her grip loosens on the sheet and her hand finds its way on her forehead. Her face is damp and hot from the stress and panic. The sight of her blood on the sheets seems to appear bloodier and more real. She notes that this will not be the first time that her blood is on the bed. Joffrey will soon have his way with her.
She did not realize that Natasha has moved toward her before she felt the soothing touch of the guardian. "Remember that we will do everything in our power to keep you safe, Sansa." Sansa stares at her pale blue eyes, seeing the concern on them. "Don't feel guilty, sweetling."
"What the seven hells is going on in this retched place?" Her rescuer, Sandor Clegane, appears on her door. His horrid face scrunched up as he observed the room.
"Move out of the room, ser." Natasha's voice is icy, letting the bigger man know that they were not to be trifled with.
The knight huffs, walking directly inside the room. "Don't go telling me what to do, whore." Sansa keeps a steady grip on Natasha's hand, afraid that the insult might cause the guardian to lose her temper. Sandor sniffs, his nose in the air. He looks more like a dog than a man, Sansa observes. "It smells like blood." Her blood runs cold once he confirms that it is indeed blood that he smells. He turns his black eyes at her and, for a moment, she thinks she sees pity on them. "You're a woman now, little bird."
Sansa cries more as she hears that sentence.
*~*~*~*~Player of the Games!*~*~*~*~*
Natasha is waiting for her outside after her rather uncomfortable conversation with the queen. Cercei seems to be taking advantage of Sansa's lack of parental guide, telling her what to expect in the future and how to act in front of Joffrey now. Sansa almost let it slip that she dreaded for her moonblood to arrive. Quickly stuttering, "I thought it would be less…" dreadful sad horrific "…messy,". After, Cercei had looked at her like she's the most stupid person alive. She knew that this is coming soon and kept on thinking, "Why delay the inevitable?"
"How was it?" Natasha asks, leaning away from the wall to follow her footsteps.
Sansa makes sure that no one is listening before answering. "Dreadful."
"We just have to make sure that Joffrey does not get his hands on you." Natasha says quietly, probably already thinking of strategies to keep the boy from her.
Both of them did not expect Littlefinger to appear right in front of them like a whip of smoke. Sansa recoils slightly for his face is too near hers. "Lord Baelish"
"Hello Lady Stark." The smirk is present on his face, making Sana feel like a prey. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to speak to Lady Stark alone."
Natasha sends her a look of defiance, telling her that his intentions are not good. Sansa takes her stand, leaning away from his awaiting hand. "No. She walks with us or I wouldn't talk to you."
His tongue darts out, wetting his plump lips. Her demanding voice seems to have aroused him further than he expected. Oh yes…Sansa is very much like her mother. "Alright."
This time, Sansa has no other choice but to take his hand as he lead them towards the gardens. A few people bow slightly at them, expressing respect. Some only begin to whisper among themselves at the sight of a young lady clinging to a man that is old enough to become her father.
The gardens have not changed since she has last been in them. The trees are still blossoming and the sound of waves coming from the sea is still calm. King's Landing is very different from Winterfell. In her home, the trees show no signs of having leaves. There was no sound of water except for the indoor plumbing because every body of water is frozen. Even though her shelter is much more beautiful and lively, she would still give up everything just to return home. She wouldn't care if anyone thought of her as disgraceful as long as Robb will be there to keep her safe…as long as her mother will be there to comfort her…or even as long as Aria, Bran and Rickon will annoy her. She might even marry some rich lord and be away from Joffrey's monstrous grasps.
"Let me tell you how I'm glad to have a walk with you around these beautiful gardens. Last time I saw you taking a stroll here, you were with another man." Baelish whispers, his wet lips dangerously close to her ears. It snaps her from her thoughts. She is not in Winterfell…she is at hell.
No! A voice suddenly shouts inside her head. This isn't right. Jaime is supposed to be the one whispering amusing nothings in my ears. He should be the one gently rubbing my hand as if we're secret lovers. Her previous thoughts come back to her. No, she might never be happy with another man. As wrong as it may seem, Jaime Lannister has managed to capture her fragile heart.
Petyr Baelish stirs them away from the crowd. Hmmm. He must probably be annoyed with me for not paying him enough attention. "I know that you probably find this a bit scandalous..but I am glad that your moonblood has finally arrived."
She almost breaks her neck as she stares venomously at Lord Baelish. "What do you mean, Lord Baelish?"
His smile is a thousand secrets sealed. They stop at the most isolated part of the gardens. Sansa stares behind her, startled to see Natasha being held by two of Petyr's guards. She tries to remove herself from Baelish's hold but he pulls her to him roughly. A whimper escapes her lips, causing Littlefinger to laugh delightedly. His arms move around her waist, trapping her body with his. He moves his lips close to her ears and whispers seductively, "I know you don't really want this marriage, Lady Stark. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you will be paired with me. Then you will be happy...with me!" Sansa can feel the hot tears streaming down as he lowers his lips, guiding them lower down her neck.
As soon as she has been released, she raises one hand and slaps him with all her might. She has been told of stories of his obsession with her mother. She did not expect that she would be a victim of his desperate needs just because she looks so much like Catelyn Stark.
"Don't touch me again."
He laughs…a laugh that sends her a chill. "Soon, Lady Sansa."
She collapses on the ground, holding herself at the horrible events of the day. Natasha comes soon, taking her into her arms and holding her like an older sister would.
Please rescue me soon. This time, it is not only her family's face that she sees. It is also Jaime's.
Happy New Year people! I hope that you're all sober as you read this eventful chapter. May your 2015 be prosperous and downright awesome. Make sure to take lots of photographs to remember the good days to come. BUT! Do not forget to live the moment. Don't waste everyday taking too many selfies. If you want to really remember the moment, for God's sake, LIVE IT.
What did you think of this chapter huuuh?
Jon and Nathalia's steamy morning… I know all of you are thinking: FINALLY!
Dark magic reveal…
Sansa's moonblood…
Baelish's pedophilic nature…
LIKE I SAID… L
REVIEW REPLIES:
Bfireworks5: Mayyyyybe…maybe not hehe who knows? There might be some reveal ;)
Lycan Lover 411: A flirty Jon is always an adorable Jon hehe…Thank you so much!
Next: Jaime appears (Again…finally!) Nathalia makes a decision. Let's check in on Alessandra and Dyllon.