Chapter 21: Chapter 21
Summary: Jaime and Arya bonding for literally almost this entire chapter... Sorry not sorry?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextArya was able to secure the tools and ingredients she needed by nightfall and sequestered herself away in a damaged and abandoned tower on in a part of the keep rarely patrolled- especially since the fight, when all forces were reduced, if not as much as they could have been. She used her thin finger knife to slowly and carefully peal back the dark sink of the berry, leaving as much of the colorless flesh beneath intact as she possibly could. Once done, she added the small amount of skin to a tiny tin held over a large candle, holding just the smallest amount of water needed to fully submerge the deep red husk.
The innards she took to dicing while the flesh simmered away, doing her best to ensure even sized squares were left behind. She had a variety of vials laid out atop the table were she worked and once the innards were prepared to her satisfaction, she sprinkled the smallest amount of powder from one glass container and then dripped one liquid drop of another over each individual and evenly spaced squares.
She mentally counted to 300- for five minutes broken down into seconds, and then added the sizzling squares to the simmering water containing the skin. She used her small finger knife to mix the concoction, though she was careful not to slice off any smaller pieces, for it would be catastrophic if any were to breakdown before the others.
After another 600 seconds, she used a long and slender stone to smash the chunks into the water, using small circular strokes until they had lost their shape completely and had become bits of mush floating in the surrounding liquid.
Once the consistency had regained it's smoothness, she added exactly 17 drops of liquid, evenly spaced, from a third vial. The mixture began to look the faintest pink, but only for a minute before the chemicals further broke down and it regained its clear shimmer within the small metal bowl, the bleached skin left floating on the top and bereft of its once deep red sheen.
It had been simmering long enough at that point that the moisture had reduced by half, and so she pulled the metal from the flame and set it atop her workspace to cool. It seemed to take an age, but her forcefully gained patience paid out and she remained perched upon the chair until it had lost enough heat to be the same temperature as her flesh.
Task finally finished, she poured the small amount of liquid into an equally small vial and then took a deep whiff to see if it bore the same smell she was hoping and expecting.
Notes of Cherries and the faintest undertone of anise greeted her senses and she allowed her lips to stretch into a smile of accomplishment, perhaps because no one was around to see.
Task complete, she cleared her work space until it seemed she was never there in the first place and then she retreated to the more occupied sections of the keep.
She came upon Jaime before she reached the walls proper, looking annoyed and five minutes from fleeing the premises completely. He spotted her a moment after she did him, color high on his cheeks and clearly agitated.
"What has you all worked up?" She questioned as she came closer, her own mood still high from her recent success and readiness to make the next move.
"What has me all worked up?" He repeated mockingly, and perhaps more derisively than he meant to portray. "Aside from the fact that I find myself the only Southern left remaining in this wintery hell and with little I can do about it, thanks very much to you. What has you in such a good fucking mood?" He asked in return, tone harsh.
Her steps almost faltered, but her even control held true and her strides remained smooth until she slowed to a stop several feet from him. "Nothing that will help your own bearing, I'm afraid." She told him evenly.
"Why did you request I travel with you?" He asked her then, gaze focused fully and steadily on her for the first time since she spotted him.
"I didn't, your Father insisted upon the arrangement despite my argument." She denied.
"Did he truly? Well that's about the height of impropriety. I'd ask 'why' but I suppose the answer is obvious. Still rather bold of him considering where we are." The blond drawled, still clearly on edge and seemingly torn between stepping closer to her or turning away from her completely. "Look, I know I'm to stay and travel with you, but I may wait for you to be ready to depart at the road.
"Don't be ridiculous, we're going to have to spend weeks camping in the snow already- why would you want to start such a thing before you need to?"
Oh, why indeed?
Ten Minutes Prior ~ Jaime's POV
Why in the Seven Hells did everything have to be so dark and depressing in the North? Jaime mused as he made his way towards an exit, needing to escape the looming presence of Winterfell felt overhead. Granted, the overcast sky and snow-covered grounds were still dreary enough on their own, but at least he could breath some fresh air and have something other than candlelit stone and depressing tapestries to look upon for a time.
The North had always been his least favorite part of Westeros, and that opinion hadn't changed with age. Still, it had been more bearable when he'd had Bronn and the other soldiers to take company with. Since the army had left, he'd found himself near abandoned with the Starks and remaining guests while the person responsible for his presence had quite successfully disappeared, as she was want to do on nary a whim.
When he was finally reached the outside, Jaime found himself much lighter, if still regretting his continued presence in this Northern wasteland after he though he'd be on the move back towards home. His feet took him a distance from the main building and once away from it he found himself quite unwilling to return to the miserable confines of the keep and instead choose to wander and explore the grounds in depth. His eyes were watchful as he traveled and he found himself taking in the work being done to repair what damage resulted and remained from the Long Night.
Further he went, eventually passing aimlessly by the smithy. He wouldn't have spared the building a second glance if the door didn't open and a familiar face appeared, followed by another.
Arya's brother Jon was followed by Roberts newly discovered bastard, Gendry. The man Arya seemed to have quite a past with and yet declined to speak about.. The man of which he knew little about and yet had a clear presence in the Lannister's mind. He allowed his feet to come to a stop in a somewhat shadowed corner of the road, curious despite himself and wondering what he might observe as an invisible party bearing witness.
His gaze scanned over Snow before moving to the other and lingering there. He had quite an impressive bearing, Jaime couldn't help but notice as he watched the two exchange obviously friendly words. The young man was tall and obviously strong- muscles cut and clearly defined on display as they were. He had Robert's strong and handsome features that he'd bore in his youth, before the years and wine added up and left their marks on his body and mind. The bastard was bare chested and sweating despite the frigid chill his flesh was exposed to. He nodded to whatever the Stark bastard was saying, neck muscles flexing with the movement. His dark hair was damp and sticking up at odd angles, but it didn't take away from his rugged, careless charm.
He'd seen the man interact with Arya from a distance- had picked up on whatever it was from their past that lingered and yet seemed to go unspoken between them since their reunion and yet left Arya's shoulders tense once they went their separate ways. He absently wondered if he would somehow manage the secure the Baratheon lordship and all that came with it- bachelor status included, as the Dragon Queen had so boldly decreed. He knew his father would marry Arya to someone, himself or someone yet unknown. He wondered if another alliance would be struck to renew the Lannister/Baratheon alliance and still secure one indirectly with their family, the Starks and the North with the same move. He wondered if Arya would argue the match, if it was offered, of it she would accept it as an acceptable alternative to her initial agreement with his father.
He wondered why he was allowing his mind to wander in such meaningless directions then, as he watched as Snow clasped the other bastard on his bare shoulder with a smile and then turn on his heel. Blue eyes caught on his form as he too moved to turn away and the sight of the Lannister caused him to pause in that movement.
The bastard's expression tightened immediately and became pinched. Jaime wondered what the other man was thinking and the exchange continued, the seconds seeming to almost slow down as they examined each other from across the cobblestone. For a moment, just a moment, Jaime wished Joffrey's attempts to cull the world of his 'Fathers' bastards had been more successful before his felt a twist of disgust with himself for thinking it.
He pulled his eyes away dismissively and continued on his way. It was only a couple of minutes after that he stumbled upon the very woman he'd been musing about.
"Mayhap I wish to escape the fools that inhabit these walls as quickly as possible." He told her, bringing himself back to her question.
"Careful, that is largely my family you speak of." She told him sternly, though amusement caused her lips to twitch.
"And yet I hear no denunciations cross your lips in their defense."
Her smile widened just slightly, but she did not otherwise acknowledge his words. "Is that why you are out here now?" His shoulder twitched into a nodding shrug, for it was and it wasn't, but he didn't feel like discussing such things, and especially not with her. "Would you care to spar with me, then?" She asked to his lack of a verbal response. "I could do with a good stretch, my muscles are getting tight. And you look like you could use a good fight."
His jaw twitched and she though he might say something, but whatever the words, he bit them back and nodded silently, gesturing her to lead the way. She didn't move towards the main courtyard, not really in the mood for spectators and knowing his own desire to get away from people just then. Instead, she led him back in the direction from which she'd come, to a more secluded clearing in a remote part of the keep that was surrounded by broken towers and scattered broken bricks and rubble that people rarely came to.
She drew her always present blade with a challenging grin, twirling it as she waited for him to draw his own much larger and heavier blade to hand. Once they were both armed, they began without hesitation, moving in sync. The dance was familiar between them and yet they were both skilled enough to keep each of them on their toes and only just keeping up with the other.
"You should stand side-face." She told him breathlessly after the flat of her blade connected rather painfully with his lower back.
"I'm a Westerosi Knight, not a Braavosi dancer. 'Side-face' isn't a position in my skill set." He grunted, arguing back playfully, tone much lighter than it had been before they began.
"Humm. I know you are advancing in your years, but I did not think you so old yet that you could not add new skills to your repertoire."
"'Advancing in my years'?!" He repeated back, something nearing true offence coating his voice. Arya ducked his swing and stepped closer to him, wrapping her leg through and around his in an attempt to force him to lose his balance, her blade pinning his own by the guard. He was able to keep his footing and the exchange became of struggle of brute strength, an area of which Arya was admittedly lacking in when compared to him. "Some might argue that I'm in the prime of my life." He huffed a moment later as he turned the tables on her and used her own entangled footing to force her to her back, successfully using her own move against her.
"Some? Might those 'some' be the same age as you? Or older? If so, I'm afraid they don't count to argue in your favor." She managed to snark, despite losing her breath from the sudden landing.
His jaw gaped slightly and he acted instinctively and childishly from his indignation, dropping his blade to grab a handful of snow to fling in her face. Arya let out a shocked laugh and tried to wiggle free from where she was still pinned beneath his hold. She wasn't successful, but she distracted him enough that he didn't notice her left hand grab a handful of snow herself, which she tucked without warning into back of his cloak.
"Shit!" He exclaimed from the sudden chill on his neck that tumbled down his back as he rose to his feet. He reached behind himself in an attempt to shake it loose and didn't see Arya spring forward, successfully forcing him to the ground in his distraction and causing him to get covered in even more of the cold white powder. He cursed again and reached for her, managing to snag her ankle before she could rise and yanking her back down with him. Their struggle quickly escalated into an all out wrestling match, snow used liberally as a weapon and the two fairly evenly matched despite their very different tactics.
"Okay, okay, stop." Arya exclaimed, breathless, place skin reddened from the ice crystals an unknown amount of time later as she broke free and collapsed beside him on the groud. Her head turned towards him to find him already looking back, shaggy hair wet from snowmelt and his cheeks flushed from the cold.
She couldn't imagine how she must look, for she'd scarcely taken the time to braid her hair and knew it had mostly come lose in the scuffle. However she appeared, he didn't seem put off because he rolled halfway towards her and propped himself up on his elbow. He paused above her, eyes suddenly serious as he studied her expression for only a moment before lowering his head to press his frozen lips to her own.
She stilled beneath him before a hand rose to press lightly against his bicep. His breath was the warmest thing she'd felt in some time and the feeling seemed to spread until she her entire face felt warm, followed by her neck and chest. She hesitated slightly, torn, and he seemed to sense it for he paused and pulled back to study her once again, this time questioningly.
"You would refuse me again?" he murmured, though she hadn't yet said or done anything to express such a thought. He seemed disappointed. "And what must I do to once again gain your acceptance?" He asked, tone pitched low.
"How frustrating it must be to be so consumed by the needs of a cock." She told him crassly rather than answering. "It seems you've thought of little else in recent days."
"You say that as though it should be an insult when it is little more than the truth of manhood. We all think with our cocks, whether we admit to it or not. Some of us are just more honest about it than others. I would have thought you would appreciate such honesty considering your own disdain for the complexities and expectations of society." Their eyes locked and his head tilted. "You're truly not tempted? Not even a little bit? No, that's not the problem, is it? You're still offended I won't marry you."
"It's interesting you seem to think so when it's you who keeps mentioning the idea. I told you before, I would never want anyone to marry me who wasn't willing- that hasn't changed, and won't, no matter how many times you mention it or try to guilt me for asking- Just as your unwillingness won't change. I've accepted such facts, I don't see the need to keep bringing it up. Can we not simply move on from the idea, as we should? I can't speak for you, but I do rather enjoy your company regardless."
He didn't seem terribly pleased with the idea, his brows furrowing as he pushed himself into a seated position as well. "Fine, let us move on." He agreed regardless, too stubborn to argue for his true thoughts, regardless of his conflicted feelings on the subject or intrinsic need to speak up.
"It's nearly time for supper. We should return to the keep for the night." Arya said next, rising fully to her feet and then dipping down to grab her blade from where it still lay in the snow, wincing slightly at the water coating it and silently making a note to oil it when she got back to her chambers.
"Tell me one thing first." He requested, following suit and then turning towards her, stepping closer so they were mere inches apart. She raised her brow in silent acknowledgement and so he continued- "Do you regret it? Lying with me?"
She didn't answer immediately, giving him the consideration to think it over first though she already knew the answer. "No." She told him after a moment. "I don't regret it."
"You seem to, most days." He told her then. "I'm not quite sure what to make of your thoughts on the matter, and you seem determined to speak in naught but riddles on the subject."
"I don't regret it." She told him again. "I only, well. I suppose I don't particularly like knowing my future is well and truly out of my hands. I find myself questioning my decisions, wondering if I have chosen correctly to bring me here and yet I cannot find anything that I would truly change. "Do you regret it?" She asked him then, almost a challenge.
He reached out and ran the very tips of his fingers over the cut of her cheekbone before his hand dropped again. "No, I don't regret it either. I only wish things could be different."
"If you wish things could be different, why not make them so?" She pressed.
"It's not that simple." He told her softly and continue to watch her for several long moments before he nodded, something conflicted in his eyes. "You're right though, I'm the one who keeps bringing it up. I'll make you a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"I won't mention it again, and we both go back to acting how we were before the idea was ever mentioned at all."
"You know that's not a simple thing either." Arya pointed out logically, though did not reuse outright.
"I know." He agreed. "But I like you, Stark. I want your company, however I might gain it. Before my father began scheming, we had a good thing going, you and I. Surely I'm not the only one to miss such times."
Arya looked up at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "We have a long journey ahead of us." She said aloud.
"Aye." He agreed but did not speak beyond that acknowledgement.
"And we'll be alone, traveling in close quarters."
"Aye." He said again, voice just slightly deeper.
"Better we start out on good terms, yes? And what better terms than to ignore the events of the past and pretend things are easy and perfect." Her words were clearly sarcastic and bluntly honest, but not intended to change the outcome of the conversation.
"Not perfect." He denied, "but better than the alternative."
"Is better all we have to hope for?" She mused aloud, studying the way his eyes seemed to almost starburst in their coloring from so close.
"Maybe not forever… But for now, I think better is okay. What say you?"
"Okay," She agreed after a final pause. "We shall pretend the events of the past several weeks haven't happened and move on in unison."
"Praise the Gods, she's seen reason!" Jaime exclaimed then, though quietly with a teasing edge.
"Reason by who's standard?" Arya challenged playfully in turn, lighter herself despite knowing such an agreement between was a superficial patch and naught else.
"By mine, I suppose." He told her with a raised brow as she laughed. He too knew this false calm wouldn't last, but he was determined to make the most of her good mood whilst it lasted and was his to bring forth.
Notes: Happy Easter to those of you who observe the holiday! I didn't intend for nearly this entire chapter (all but about 500 words) to be Arya/Jaime, but I find I really don't mind! I hope you enjoyed their interaction as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, I look forward to hearing what you think. Thank you all so much for reading!