Thanks to all those who are reading this and following it and favoriting it. So just head's up…this is a Game of Thrones story, so there will be some smut, and this chapter has some. Honestly there's not a whole lot though, but I thought I'd give you all fair warning. Keep reading, and if you'd feel so inclined, leave a review. Like even if your review is "I hate this story, it's terrible, and I think you smell like fish heads", I would be happy to hear it.
Miriam
It was going to be difficult to convince Theon who she was with a lower handmaidens dress but damn if Olenna and Margaery hadn't prepared her. The dress was a pale blue, the chest windowed and her arms bare, wrapped up in a colorfully green sash and a thick long blue cloak that complimented the white snow around it. Margaery said it reminded her of the sea on its best days. Miriam wouldn't know if Theon would appreciate something like that, she doubted it given the rumors, but the breast window certainly wouldn't be overlooked. A good number of people had already given her curious glances. Olenna insisted on jewelry but dealing with the trinkets of gems and gold were a whole other hassle Miriam didn't want to deal with.
Pulling the hood up, she stepped out of the tower where Leila was staying. The pit in her stomach grew, but she absolutely couldn't screw this one up. It was her first big plan, one that could mean great things for both the Iron Islands and Highgarden. If Miriam was to impress her family, this was it.
No one paid any attention to her as she made her way toward Theon's room. Thanks to some eavesdropping and paying particular attention to what the other maids had to say, she was able to find the bedroom rather quickly. Everyone was too busy preparing for the coming feast, one aimless handmaiden of the royal family gave no one question. Theon would be expected to go, but if she was lucky, she could catch him beforehand.
Miriam silently slipped up the stairs to Theon's room, surprisingly just across the hall from Robb Stark's. The idea Leila might visit Robb caused her to snort. Leila was such a proper lady that she'd never even dream of visiting a man in his room before their wedding.
Turning her thoughts from the hopefully soon wedded couple, Miriam came to Theon's door. Swallowing all the nerves that came with the prospect of failure, she knocked.
The door swung open taking her back and she finally got her first look at the Iron born son, Theon Greyjoy.
Theon was almost handsome, Miriam thought. He was lean with a nice firm body and long legs. His hair was a forgettable brown, his eyes large and a lovely shade of light blue with a hint of green at the middle. His teeth were spaced out, but he was far from ugly. His jaw was square and it was clear he'd been shaved for the royal family's arrival. A small amount of hair was already starting to grow along his jaw.
"What are you doing here?" Theon snapped. "I don't remember calling for any servants."
"You didn't, my lord," Miriam said. "I'm not a servant."
He snorted.
"Not a servant? Then what are you? A whore?" He laughed at his own joke, getting comfortable on the door frame as he looked her down. Miriam reminded herself this was for the good of House Tyrell and suppressed the urge to say something hotty about his intelligence and run back to the safety of Leila's side.
Slowly she removed her hood, letting the cloak slide behind her shoulders to reveal her sun kissed skin. Theon looked quizzically at her for a moment. He brought down an apple Miriam hadn't noticed before and unceremoniously took a big bite out of it as he watched her.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" He asked, a smirk starting to play on his lips. "I'm a Greyjoy! I'm the ward of House Stark!" He boasted dramatically. "And what are you? Just some…girl." Miriam looked away agitated as he went off pointing out all her deficiencies, comparing her to whores. She knew she was still young, she knew she still had all her baby fat unlike Margaery and Loras, despite being the same age as Loras. But it was annoying to hear from someone she was trying to seduce. "…and your tits aren't completely flat. That's something. Did you come to sleep with me?" It was clear Theon wanted to laugh at the very idea, like he could do a million times better than 'some girl'.
"My lord, let me explain," Miriam said, ignoring his rude comments. "My name is Miriam Tyrell of Highgarden. Do you know where that is?"
He blinked first and then sputtered.
"Of course I know where Highgarden is! What do you think I am…stupid?" He snapped. "And how do I even know you're a Tyrell? Why are you so far North? Shouldn't you be in your cozy little home?"
"I came here for you, Theon-"
"Lord Theon to you," he barked.
Miriam wasn't quick enough to catch her glare; he never called her 'Lady'. If her grandmother was there she'd have put him right in his place and chastised Miriam for taking his imprudence silently. Still, she knew the plan wasn't going to be easy and she was determined to follow through with it.
"May I enter, my lord?" The plea was gentle enough, all her irritation drained out like a proper woman. When he gave her the signal, she walked into the room and closed the door behind her. "As I said, I came here for you, Lord Theon. I came with a proposal."
"I'm listening," Theon said amused as he sat down in his chair by the fire.
She decided to get right to it. "I want you, Lord Theon. I want you to marry me."
His laugh started out small but grew. "Marriage? You want to be my wife? I have no time for a wife right now! I can't be tied down…especially by someone like you!"
Loras' words teased on her mind about Theon's reputation. If even her own brother wasn't interested in him, he had to have been bad. Doubt came flooding that the whole thing was ridiculous, but she would continue, at least to see if she could be as tricky as her siblings.
"You're popular with the ladies, aren't you?" Miriam said slowly, carefully picking out her words.
"You could say that," he replied with a smirk. "If I were to get married, it would create all sorts of problems with my clients."
His clients? He was the client for the many whores he'd probably laid with.
"I don't mean to get in the way of your intimate life," Miriam reassured. "I know you're popular. Isn't it obvious? You're very handsome after all, and you're heir to the Iron Islands. You're an Iron Born, Lord Theon, and nothing nor anybody can ever take that from you."
"I know what I am! What's your point?" Interest seemed to be just on the brink, his brow creased at the end of his words.
"My point is that one day you will be seated in your father's chair, and you will be a lord," Miriam explained. "I am here on account of House Tyrell, but also House Greyjoy. You're going to need an heir. Not just a bastard from a whore, but a real, trueborn heir. For that I am here. I want to join our houses. You will receive plenty of financial backing from House Tyrell, and I will bear you a son."
He sunk into his chair. A far off look started to take him that interested Miriam. He almost seemed...melancholy. Clearly he hadn't expected that from her and for the first time seemed to be considering what this all meant. So she waited patiently. It would certainly be a loveless marriage, as she expected any marriage involving nobility to be, but as he spoke she realized that wasn't his worry.
"I'm in Winterfell now," Still his gaze seemed distant, but Miriam couldn't figure out why.
"Yes, you are, but one day you will return home and rule," she reminded him.
"Lord Eddard wouldn't ever allow it," he said slowly.
"No, he wouldn't, but you are not Lord Eddard's son, are you? I came to merely propose the idea," she explained. "The wedding wouldn't be today. It would be when you returned to the Iron Islands. I just wanted to make the proposal so you would know that this is possible. Think about it. A child with Iron blood and Tyrell blood would be very powerful. You'd have a claim on both my lands and yours. You need an heir, Lord Greyjoy, if you expect to have any power."
He looked thoughtful…or rather he looked like he was in pain. Was thinking difficult for him? Would he be a good ruler to the Iron Islands? Would he be smart enough for the role? If he wasn't she'd just have to brush him off and rule on her own, it wouldn't be hard with his lust for 'life' and her love of politics and business. How on the Gods holy land could he really be questioning this? In its twisted way, it was a perfect match.
"Lord Theon," she said, deciding to push him a little. "Perhaps you don't want to make your decision now. After all, you hardly know me. Perhaps this will help you…know me better."
She began to unlace the strings on her bodice. Margaery had always had a way with men, and Miriam feared she didn't have that talent, but she hoped Theon didn't normally have partners that willingly slept with him. To have a girl you didn't need to pay for a change could be welcoming, couldn't it? When her bodice was untied, she allowed the dress to fall, the loose sash barely keeping the fabric up as it fell around her hips. Miriam had to resist the urge to cover her body as the air nipped at her skin. Instead her hands rested at her tossing stomach.
"What are you doing?" Theon asked, stunned.
"Exactly what it looks like," she replied, her voice near a whisper. It felt corny saying the lines. Margaery had told her men liked it when women took charge…but not too much charge. They liked surprises and confidence. Miriam wished desperately she had Margaery's confidence. It would have come in handy as she stood half naked in the middle of a cold room.
"You want to lay with me?" Theon asked in a voice that sounded horrible exasperated.
Oh no. What had she done?
"Of course, my lord," she paused, gulping air at the risk of feeling humiliated for her failed attempt. "I've traveled far for this." A slight smile touched her lips but she couldn't look up, "It's been very cold."
"And won't your lord father have something to say about this?" He asked.
"You'll learn that in Highgarden we tend to be a lot more…open about our desires," she breathed, glad it sounded more seductive then terrified. Taking slow steps, Miriam approached him, leaning down and holding herself up by the chair arms, she leaned in close and breathed in his ear: "You have no fear of me, take me Theon. I'm yours."
I sound like an idiot, she thought.
Margaery had always told her anything with a cock was easy to take advantage of; good thing she was right. Theon tilted his head and roughly gripped her mess of braids, not bothering to warm her up with soft kisses. It was unexpected from what she was used to. The male whores of Highgarden were always gentle and slow for her. The switch was, oddly refreshing. It quickly withered her anxiety, melting it into a wave of triumph.
Trying to keep Margaery's confident attitude in mind, Miriam gripped the loose bridge of his pants and he stood up, his hot mouth still on hers. With one harsh tug on her sash her whole dress went tumbling to the dirty floor. Theon chuckled to himself when he wrapped an arm around her waist and grinded himself into her, getting a shocked gasp from her lips. Miriam never expected the rumors of his girth to hold any merit, and having it run up against her naked form sent shivers up her spine.
Taking her needy hands as approval, he wasted no time in ripping off his tunic and pulling off his pants. Theon took her face in both hands and smashed his lips against hers. She opened her mouth, letting her passion guide her as their tongues met and played. Wherever his hands went were welcomed, the cold air threatening to give her the shakes and goosebumps.
Miriam was surprised when his hand traveled between her thighs, not expecting him to have any knowledge about a lady's pleasure points, or how to properly use it. She whimpered against his mouth, her hips bucking as his hard press tempted to send her over the edge already. Again, she hadn't ever guessed she liked it a bit rough. He only made it all the more exciting when he thrusted her against a wall.
Lifting her leg on his hip Theon easily slid in, but being as impatient as he was, caused Miriam to gasp and whimper at the assault, her nails digging into his shoulders.
A smile played on her lips, almost laughing at herself. By all rights she shouldn't be enjoying this. Miriam thought she would have to scream in her head and clench her teeth through the whole ordeal, instead she wanted to ask him to pull her hair again.
Thinking about it caused her to run her hands through his hair, her nails raking his scalp. In one swift movement he had her off the ground, and tossed her to the bed. Miriam did giggle this time as he crawled up, his own smile crashing against her lips.
"Turn around." And she did as he ordered, her heart brimming with anticipation.
He proved to be quite the talker, Miriam had to stifle her giggles by burying her face in the pillow at the ridiculous self-boasting. Theon caught her at one point, hard to miss with her body shaking in laughter.
"I'm sorry," she choked, tears in her eyes at this point. "I'm sorry, you're a giant; you're amazing!"
"I know! That's what I've been saying!" With a laugh he smacked her ass and went back to riding. For a moment Miriam's heart warmed to think he may have stopped because he worried she was crying. From there, the prospect of the union didn't seem so bleak anymore.
At long last his climax came, Miriam already in a puddle beneath him and Theon rolled off her panting. Scooting beside him she pushed her naked body against his, laying her head on his chest. Theon pulled her even closer and soon the pair of them had fallen asleep, ecstasy still swimming behind their eyes.
Miriam woke up long before Theon did. She ignored the soreness between her legs as she stumbled to pull her dress back on, her limbs giving her hell by how rubbery they felt. At one point she even tripped over her own dress and fell back on the bed with a whispered curse. The last piece she left was a quick note for Theon, so he'd know it wasn't just a dream. She'd return again in the night and make her proposal again. Especially with how well things had gone.
When she left and quickly arrived at Leila's room, Leila was fretting over something.
"I don't understand why each time I approach Robb, his bastard brother has to laugh at me!" She complained. "And what's wrong with his sister? Since I've arrived here, all she's done is give me this look like she hates me! I don't even know her! I've never done anything to her! Is she just mean spirited?"
Leila viciously combed through her hair, and Miriam went to help her before she could rip any more hair out.
"They're Northerners, Leila. They aren't as civilized as we are in the South," Miriam said plainly. "Robb will be charmed by you, trust me. Besides, who cares what a bastard thinks of you?"
Leila looked up at Miriam.
"But I care what you think of me," Leila said.
"Because we're friends." Miriam offered a small grin to hide her Grandmother's heated words edging in her thoughts. "Besides, unlike Jon Snow, I've been legitimized."
"And what should I do about Lydia?" Leila asked.
"Lydia?"
"Lydia Stark, Eddard Stark's eldest daughter. She hates me, and I can't figure out why. Ever since I arrived here all she's done is look down on me."
"Don't worry about her. She's probably just jealous. You are a Lannister after all. People would do anything to share your last name."
Leila huffed, clearly not content with the answer. After taking the time to braid her hair and pin it up, Leila thanked Miriam with a hug.
"I'm off to see Robb," she smiled, all her cheer having returned. "Wish me luck!"
"Luck to you," Miriam said, smiling as Leila left. She really was determined to please Robb. That was something Miriam admired about the Lannisters. If they wanted something, they stopped at nothing to get it.
Miriam made absolute sure that no one would be able to recognize what she had done the night before. She prayed Theon was smart enough to keep their night a secret as well. After a small breakfast, she decided learning more of Winterfell was wise. There was only so much books could teach her after all.
The books certainly hadn't lied about it being cold. Snow had yet to fall, but the air stung her skin even with all her layers. No one noticed her in her simple clothes. She was glad for this. More could be learned that way. She could experience Winterfell first as a commoner and later as a noble. Though it was different than Highgarden, she saw nothing that was too out of place.
She did freeze entirely when she saw a wolf wandering around the place. Did they normally have wolves that wandered around Winterfell? But then a black haired girl came to the wolf and beckoned it to follow her. That definitely had to have been Lydia Stark, the girl Leila spoke of. At first glance, there was nothing wrong with Lydia, and Miriam believed in knowing a person first before judging him or her. The Stark girl seemed close with the wolf. The way it moved and she moved made Miriam think the animal was more than just a pet to her.
Lydia Stark was practically a sister to Theon. It might have been good to get to know Lydia. Maybe she could learn more about him that way. The real question was how to get close to Lydia. As a servant to Leila, there was no reason to speak with her. Still, Miriam closed in on Lydia and acted as naturally as possible.
Just when she thought Lydia hadn't noticed her, the girl called firmly: "Who are you?"
Miriam spun around, her heart racing a bit.. "Just a serving girl, my lady," she answered without missing a beat.
"I've never seen you before," Lydia said, cautiously approaching her.
"I came with the Royal family."
"I see," answered Lydia, staring her up and down. "You don't look much like a serving girl. You're too well kept."
"My lords and ladies have been kind to me over the years."
"What's your name?"
"Miriam, my lady. Just Miriam," Miriam gave a slight bow.
"Interesting. An interesting name for the North but a common one in the South. It makes sense I suppose," Lydia reminisced. "Where are you going now?"
"My lady isn't in need of me at the moment. I thought I'd explore Winterfell a bit. It's the first time I've been out of my country."
"Your lady is busy, but as of now, I am your new lady," Lydia said, taking Miriam aback.
"I don't understand, Lady Stark," Miriam said slowly.
"I need your help," Lydia said with a smirk. She took Miriam by the arm and steered her away. The wolf followed the two, making Miriam weary. "Do you know Leila Lannister?"
"Yes, of course," said Miriam, deciding not to say that she was supposedly serving her.
"I want to know her better, but I'm afraid there's a bit of a…rift between us."
Miriam raised her brow, sensing a lie, but she said nothing and just listened.
"I need you to keep an eye on her and report to me the things she's doing. If I knew her better, then we could close this gap," explained Lydia.
She wanted Miriam to play spy for her. Of course she'd never betray the trust of her old friend, but if Miriam could gain even a small bit of Lydia's trust, that could help her win over the Starks as well as the Greyjoys.
"Lady Leila is a lovely girl," Miriam answered without thought.
"Yes, I know that, but I want to know what she's really like," Miriam had to hide a disgruntled face. What Leila was really like? Leila was...Leila. The girl didn't hide anything unless she stole extra desert. "I will pay you of course. I don't expect you to endanger yourself. Just give me a report in the evening about how she's been doing. I want her stay in Winterfell to be something pleasant."
"Of course, my lady," Miriam nodded. "I will serve you where I can."
"Thank you," Lydia smiled. "Oh, and don't call me lady. Lydia will do."
And with that Lydia left Miriam alone, and she wondered exactly how she'd found herself in the services of a Stark.
