Author's Note: You know, the trouble with writing a 25 year-long story is having a bunch of ideas for the future and wanting to skip ahead to get to the good stuff, but knowing you have to stick with chronology so that it all makes sense in the end.
Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners. Any characters you see here that are not from those stories are my own.
Chapter Eight: Better Off Freezing
Winter came faster than expected. Within a week snow started to fall on the mountain. Light coatings of snow peppered the roofs and parapets and every morning the gardens were tinged with frost. Another week passed and those light coats grew thicker and would not fade under the sunlight. Like the rains of Autumn, each day brought more snow than the last. People began avoiding the courtyards, keeping to the perimeter of stone hallways as they tried to avoid the cold. Jasmine was no exception. Lacking in winter-ready clothes and an aversion to the cold, she spent as much time as possible avoiding the outdoors. Keeping herself occupied more often with the ladies of Ashemark or volunteering with indoor chores than anywhere else.
This morning she was spending her time in the rookery. Changing the beddings of raven cages as the black birds squawked and pecked at her hands.
"Oh hush, you." She waved off at another attempt to prick at her fingers. The raven gave an indignant cry that almost sounded like it was trying to repeat back the word 'hush'. It was funny and somewhat strange to hear a non-parrot try to speak. Jasmine was almost tempted to try and make them say corn or snow like Mormont's bird would do.
'How does a bird manage to make those sounds?' She wondered.
Near the window she heard a flap of wings as all the birds cried out at once. She turned towards the sound to find a new raven perch on the ledge.
"Well hello there." She walked over to the window and bent down, sticking out her arm across the bird's belly. It looked at the action curiously, then hopped onto her arm. The new raven gave a small squawk as Jasmine stood up straight and forced the bird to adjust its balance. As it wobbled, Jasmine spotted a bit of parchment attached to its left leg.
"What's that you got there, little guy?" She cooed. The raven didn't give any sort of answer, and instead distracted itself with a bit of self-grooming. Jasmine slid the parchment out of its casing and inspected it. It was locked by a seal of golden wax, fixed in the image of a lion.
'A letter from Casterly Rock.' She thought instinctively. There was a temptation to open the letter. Though she'd already been scolded once before for doing that. It's a useful ploy for spies, not for message deliveries.
Jasmine walked over to an empty cage designated for ravens of Casterly Rock and encouraged the bird inside.
"I'll get a return message for you later, how about for now I get you some corn, eh?"
"Corn! Corn!" The bird cried. All around the room the ravens began crying out for corn.
'Holy hell, they do say it!'
And, judging by the noise, seems that it works about as well as saying the dreaded W-word when dealing with dogs.
"Corn! Corn! Corn!"
"Alright, alright, hold your horses!" She laughed at the black birds. Still they cried for food. Hardly satisfied even as she gave them each a handful. "Man, you're a greedy bunch, aren't you?" The raven in front of her only looked at her curiously, then turned back to its treat. She snickered again. Setting down the pail and dusting her hands off from the feed.
While the birds distracted themselves with food, Jasmine took the opportunity to finish up with the bedding changes. Once that was done, she was free to head over to the maester, message in hand.
"The ravens have been taken care of." She informed the maester. "Also, a new one stopped by with a message." She handed the message over to him, then stayed in the room as he broke the seal and read the contents.
"There is a new Princess of Dorne." Harwin announced as he read over the bit of parchment. "Prince Doran Martell and Lady Mellario have borne a daughter."
"I suppose congratulations are in order?" Jasmine commented, though the maester didn't seem to hear her.
Doran's daughter. Arianne. She remembered her from the books, if somewhat vaguely.
'So she was as old as Viserys, eh? Guess that makes sense for their secret betrothal.'
Jasmine looked at the note, only to spot something peculiar. "Is that a second sheet of paper?"
"Yes." The man answered, though there was something hard about his voice. He made no further comment for some time, reading over the second letter once again. "It appears that snows are falling much heavier on the shore than here in the mountains. Lord Damon and his retinue will remain at Casterly Rock until it is safe for them to make the return journey."
He rolled up the parchment and placed it in a hidden pocket. "I will need to inform Lord Marbrand of this news." He thought it over a moment. "Lady Melissa will be in the Willow Room. Perhaps you can inform her as well?"
"Sure, I can do that. I was already planning to go there after the rookery."
"Wonderful." He smiled as he stood and left the room.
'Strange.' She thought to herself. 'That seemed to cheer him up.'
The Willow Room, also nicknamed the Women's Room, was the designated lounge area for the ladies of the castle. Here young girls learned to stitch and sew or learn pleasantries under the watchful eyes of Septa Merella. Their older counterparts would distract themselves in other ways. Reading by the fire or gossipping amongst themselves. A high harp stood in the back right corner for anyone interested in playing it, and there was a writing desk a few paces off for those wanting to practice their calligraphy or write poetry.
The women's room had a soft ambient to it. It's interior walls were made of bluestone and a light, yellow-coloured wood. It's large windows were currently shuttered by heavy green drapes to keep out the cold. On the wall opposite the windows was a long tapestry depicting a stream running it's course first down the mountain, then under a willow tree, then through a Springtime meadow. Whomever had designed this space, they most definitely captured the intended atmosphere.
With it being Winter, it seemed as though just about everyone was visiting the Willow Room today. Most of the young girls were practicing their stitching, being guided by both the Septa and Ryella. Lady Sybelle was by the fire, reading to Alysanne. The rest were broken off into small groups, talking amongst themselves. Lia didn't seem to be in the room, though. Which rode away any tension as Jasmine walked inside.
"Good day, Jasmine" Ryella greeted her softly. "I did not think you would be joining us this morning."
"I finished things off earlier than planned." Jasmine answered with a light shrug, walking over and taking a seat beside her.
"I'm glad. Does this mean we can continue with our lesson?"
A part of Jasmine's mood dropped and she stifled the urge to groan. "Do we have to?" She asked, her voice leaking into a whine.
Ryella bit her lip as she giggled. "Come now, if you don't learn, how will you be able to finish your cloak?"
'By convincing someone else to do it.' The thought nearly slipped off her tongue, but she knew it'd be pointless to ask. Ryella was determined to teach her, and wasn't about ready to give her an easy way out.
"Perhaps our friend would rather freeze?" Margaery piped up from her circle of chatter.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out to the smirking woman, who laughed in turn at the rude gesture.
"Switzer, do restrain yourself." The Septa lectured in a whip-crack tone. "Such childish behaviour is unbecoming."
Jasmine snorted a laugh and gave the woman a salute. "Yes, ma'am."
She flashed a quick grin at Margaery, then stopped, noticing Melissa standing behind her. 'Drat, I almost forgot'. "Oh, one second." She mumbled to Ryella before leaving her seat.
"Hey, Melissa," she greeted as she approached the circle "a raven came in earlier from Casterly Rock. Damon says he will be staying there for a while."
Melissa's face twisted in concern. "Stay?" she whispered. "How long will he remain there?"
"Just until the snow clears up. Maester Harwin mentioned that the weather's getting pretty bad there, so they have to wait it out."
The lady frowned at that news. Clenching her arms at her sides and rolled her shoulders and back into a stiff position. "If that is what he believes is best." She remarked definitively, though it edged with frustration.
Jasmine was unsure of how to continue the conversation. Standing awkwardly around the now quiet group of women, some instinct advised her to retreat. She took that internal advice. Treading softly away from the group and into a corner, where she could grab some fabric out of a chest of furs.
"So…" She slid back into her chair. Hoping to tamper down on the awkward tension emanating from the group. "Where were we?"
The two busied themselves in the day's lesson. Ryella guided Jasmine through techniques on how to work with fur as opposed to wool, as well as ways to bring them and other materials together into Winter-reliable clothing. Unfortunately, the lesson wasn't turning out to be much of a success.
"I'm not sure I would even donate this to someone, much less be able to wear it, myself." Jasmine sighed, inspecting the cloak on both sides. It was turning out to be pretty shoddy work full of haphazard cuts and stitches. Not to mention that the measurements looked like they were off. The odds of it fitting her seemed slim.
"Keep practicing." Ryella encouraged. "Your stitching will improve with time."
"Right." She remarked half-heartedly, propping her chin into a fur-gripped hand. "In the meantime I'll be spending the rest of Winter stuck inside the castle."
Ryella nodded in understanding. Pondering over her friend's disappointment. "There are ways to occupy oneself in Winter. We can teach you to play the harp, or, if you would prefer the lute, Alyn or Margaery may offer you lessons. There are books, as well. I could read to you The Seven Pointed Star. That is our holy book, should you wish to learn about The Seven."
'Well, that sounds like a boring idea. On the other hand…' "The harp might be fun." She mused. "It's been awhile since I've played music. Not that I was the greatest at it, but it was fu-"
"It seems you lack talent in most things." Melissa's voice intruded on the conversation. Both of the other women turned their heads to the lady. Jasmine's mind caught off guard in processing Melissa's remark.
"What?"
The lady was half-turned between her circle and the seamsters. Glowering down at Jasmine as her eyes traced over -done cloak. "I was merely remarking that it's astounding how a women can be so utterly incapable at accomplishing the simplest of tasks."
Conversations seemed to trail off all around them. Everyone's eyes turned to their corner of the room.
Jasmine flinched at the comment. At a loss for words, with a singular thought of 'where the fuck did that come from?'
"Melissa!" Margaery gasped. "That's uncalled for."
"Yet it is true." She gave a flippant wave of her hand. "We cling to this foreigner as though she were some rare treasure. Ignoring the truth that she is little more than a talentless, insipid lowborn whom has no place in our company!"
Some voices murmured quietly at that remark. Jasmine bit her lip, feeling a blush creep up her face. Mortified at the accusation, yet felt shame that there was a truth to it.
"That's cruel, Melissa." Ryella half-whispered, her voice shaking. Still, she stood from her chair and moved between them. "You should apologize to Jasmine."
Melissa sneered. "For stating a truth?"
"For taking your frustrations out at her. You say these things out of anger that your husband has chosen to stay at Casterly Rock."
That comment got the whole room going. Everyone was reacting to the fight and the news in some amount of shock or anticipation. Meanwhile, Melissa's eyes flashed with outrage.
"Chosen? Chosen? Are you suggesting that he wished to be gone from me!"
"I am not saying that." Ryella's hand shot up, palms facing Melissa as though to calm her. "I understand your pain, but that doesn't-"
"Oh, what could you possibly understand. If it were your husband, I'm sure you would be glad he was gone! It's not as though you'd have anything to miss."
'The fuck?'
Just like that, the room went quiet again. Everyone in the room became tense. Ryella's arms had gone slack. Her shoulders jerked in small fits as her voice hitched and hiccupped and… was she crying?
Ryella broke out into a run and straight out the door. Sobs echoing through the hall as she fled.
"MELISSA PIPER!" Everyone jumped at once, their attention now fixated on Lady Sybelle as she strode her way across the room. She stopped, nose to nose with Melissa. "A word. Now!" She snapped. Lady Sybelle turned her heels and walked out the door. Melissa hesitated. Then, eyes roaming through the room and catching their looks, she too turned and followed after her.
The room stayed quiet for a few precious seconds after the two had left. Their steps echoed and mingled with Ryella's distant cries. Then, as they too faded, the Willow Room released a breath as though it were a single entity.
Shy voices whispered. Then grew. Each person weighing their thoughts on the fight and gain footing on the tension in whatever way made sense for them and allowed them to move on with the day.
'Okay, but seriously, what the fuck just happened?!'
The stallion pawed its hoof merrily as Jasmine worked a brush through his coat. Removing tangles and making his coat shine under the candlelight. The lighting would have improved if the stable door was open, but she was freezing as it was and didn't need the added discomfort. At least there was one advantage to working at the stables, horses are warm enough to fend off the cold that came from being outside the castle walls.
"So this is where you've hidden yourself?" A voice teased from the door of the stall.
Focused deep into her work, Jasmine shrugged off the comment. "Hey, you ought to appreciate the help, kid." She turned to acknowledge the stableboy. "And if you got a better idea on how to get work done around here without freezing my ass off then by all means you ca-" -aaaand that's not Connor.
Her eyes glanced down and up the tall, thin figure of the person before her. Waves of long, blond hair, much different from the red haired lad she had spent the morning with, cascaded down a woman's frame. The woman's arms were crossed, a finger curved and tapped slowly. Further up, seeing one another eye to eye, Jasmine was faced with a half-amused expression. Eyebrows raised, and the slight tug of a smirk framed by laugh lines.
"My lady," Jasmine dropped her brush and rushed into a curtsey. Head bowed to hide her red-face embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else."
"Indeed." Lady Sybelle responded coolly.
Jasmine shifted awkwardly where she stood. Risking a glance towards to woman before her. "H-how may I be of service, my lady?" She fumbled for words.
The woman gave a teasing smile. "I came to check on you. You have not visited the Women's Room for several days now. Your absence has been noted."
"I've… just been busy, that's all." Jasmine attempted to assure. "Connor needed help, with his father ill and all, so I offered to come here to-"
"Hide?"
"I wasn't hidi-" The sentence cut off, frozen by the lady's pointed look. Daring the young woman to deny it. "Er, what I mean is…" Lady Sybelle's finger tapped away. Waiting on an answer. ...Ah, crap. Her shoulders dropped. Defeated. "...what else was I supposed to do?"
"Not run from a quarrel," The lady answered "and mend it before it festers."
'Ya, right.' Memories flashed through her eyes. A knife, the sound of screams, the sight of bloodied fingers. Her eyes drifted to the left, settling on the stallion as it's body expanded and contracted with each breath. "In my experience, running tends to be the easiest way to avoid trouble." She murmured. Silently matching her breath with his.
Lady Sybelle walked into the stall. Her hand reached forward and lifted Jasmine's chin so that she was forced to renew eye contact. Her expression had softened. "To avoid a quarrel, yes, running is the easier way. However, that does not mean it is the correct course of action."
"I guess…" Jasmine knew there was a truth to that, under layers of doubt; but she didn't even understand half the fight, let alone know of a way to fix it.
"Oh, my," the lady gasped suddenly, her left hand holding Jasmine's right. "Your hands, child, they're cold as ice!"
Jasmine flinched her hand away. "It's nothing."
"Nonsense." She tutted. "Come inside, Switzer. I will have one of the servants fetch us a pot of tea."
"Really, you don't have to-"
"One's pride is not worth losing a finger to frostbite." The House Matriarch cut through her protests. Flashing a stern gaze. "Furthermore, we had not finished our discussion." Lady Sybelle turned on her heels and walked out of the stall. "Come along, Switzer." She called over her shoulder. Knowing full well that the woman had no choice but to accept the command.
Resigned, Jasmine gave the stallion one last pat and followed the lady out into the cold.
'...Somehow tea now sounds more menacing than a relief.'
"Thank you, Randa. You are dismissed." Randa curtseyed and left Lady Marbrand's salon. Leaving the two women to their own devices. Lady Sybelle swirling milk and sugar into her tea. Jasmine sitting anxiously and discreetly warming her hands together.
"The tea would better suit your need for warmth." The lady noted, never taking her eyes off her own cup.
"Oh, right." She robotically took the second cup in her hands, though she was sure that her nervousness bled through. Over the clinking of spoons, the lack of conversation was beginning to weigh down on her. "So… how has Ryella been?"
"Ryella is in good spirits." The lady took a sip of her tea. "She and Melissa have spoken and settled their differences."
'Of course they did.' She eyed the woman across from her. Wondering how much of that result was genuine and how much had been a product of this woman's interventions?
"I'm glad to hear that." 'Wait, I shouldn't have said that.' She was falling into the trap, wasn't she?
"Yes. As I feel you will be once you reconcile with Melissa."
'And there it is!'
She took a sip from the cup. Hoping to think of some way around the topic. "If I am to confess, my lady, I'm not entirely sure what needs to be said."
Lady Sybelle eased into her chair. Rolling her shoulders back and opening herself to the younger woman. "No words come to mind? You have had eight days worth of time to think over this event. Have you not?"
"Well, sure, however I still can't understand why she became angry so suddenly. Things were fine earlier."
The lady smirked into her cup. As if silently laughing to her own joke.
"All was fine earlier?" She mimicked humorously "There was nothing you said to anger her?"
"Well, ya. Yes, I mean. It's not as though I've ever said anything rude to her." Honestly, she was feeling pretty offended by this whole line of questioning. "All we talked about that day was that message from Casterly Rock. After that I spent the rest of my time with Ryella."
"What, precisely, did you tell her?"
'Where is she getting at with all of this?' "...That Damon is going to stay a while at the castle until the weather clears up."
Lady Sybelle nodded slowly, but there was still something about her expression that Jasmine didn't like.
"I don't get why you're asking me this. I didn't do anything wrong. I know she's your good-daughter, and you want to help; but all I did was deliver a message, and then she over-reacted. There's nothing else to it."
That remark was answered by a disappointed sigh. Followed by Lady Sybelle sitting forward as she returned the teacup to the table and laced her fingers together on her lap. "My dear girl," she began "have you ever journeyed through mountains in Winter?"
"Can't say I have, my lady."
"Then that explains your ignorance." Jasmine twitched at that, but was cut off before she could retort the insult. "The mountains are treacherous to journey through. There are steep cliffs and loose stone. Wild lions and thieves. If they do not kill you, an unsure foot will. This is true, regardless of the season.
"Come Winter, the dangers are far worse. Snows may trick the eye into believing there is stone where there is only air. Trails are marred with patches of ice. Blizzards will blind you and its winds throw you from the mountainside. In short, traversing through mountains in Winter is foolhardy. Given the choice, it is best to wait until the season has passed."
"I don't understand. How is that any different from what I told Melissa?"
"Switzer, my son must wait until Spring to return home. That will mean months or years until we will see him again. Melissa is already enduring the loss of her first-born. A pain you, as a maid, cannot understand. The last her heart needs is to be callously informed that she may not see her husband for years as well."
Oh. Oh.
"… that hadn't occurred to me."
"That much is clear." She rose up from her seat. "Which is why it is important that you speak with Melissa now to apologize and put an end to the bad blood between you."
Wait. "Does it have to be right now?" Lady Sybelle shot her a look, and any attempt to protest shriveled up and died on the spot. "…On second thought, 'now' sounds like a great time!"
I was better off freezing with the horses. Jasmine thought to herself as she pined over a cup of mulled wine. Memories of snide comments and guilt complexes circling around in her mind. It was all so painfully stupid and pointless, yet the thoughts wouldn't cease whispering in her mind's ear.
Beyond those whispers, she became vaguely aware of the sound of a door opening and steps padding in. A clink of chains rustled as the feet stopped in their motions.
"Switzer…" Maester Harwin's voice quavered with bewildered hesitation "may I ask why you are in my chambers… and on my bed?"
From across the room, Jasmine sat languid on the mattress. One leg swayed lazily across the stone floor while the other propped up an arm. Hand dangling, with a slip of effort to hold onto the cup, and nothing else. At the sound of his question, the woman huffed and her head rolled to face the door.
"Y'outta get your mind outta the gutter, old man. I gotta…" glazed eyes gave the man a once-over. "You know, you're not really 'old' old. You're, like, teenaged-parent old. Still too old for me, though." She paused. Taking a sip out of her cup.
The maester took cautious steps toward the bed. "Perhaps you have had too much wine this evening?"
The woman huffed in annoyance. Eyes fixed on the dark liquid. "Didn't exactly get much choice, now did I? What else was I s'ppose to drink? Water? Heh. Stupid bugs are gonna kill me."
The comment gave him pause. "Pardon?"
A once-limp arm waved carelessly in his direction. "Tell ya about it later. ...why didn't I get a cup of tea?"
"Switzer," The maester's tone grew impatient "why are you in my chambers?"
"Huh? Oh, right, right." Her body swung to face him, body swaying side to side. "I've got a bone to pick with you."
"Bones? What on earth of you speaking of, woman? You're drunk. Go to your room, get some rest." He pleaded for her to listen.
"Fuuuuuuuuuucking hell!" She groaned. Body giving up control and flopping onto the bed. "It's just an expression, Jesus Christ!" The dangling leg kicked upwards. "S'not what I meant! You," an arm reached up and pointing in his general direction "screwed me over and got me in trouble."
The man paused. Then, there came the slightest wisp of a laugh. "Is this regarding your quarrel with Lady Melissa?"
"YES!" Her arm flopped down. "Finally! So you admit it!"
"There is nothing to admit. I've done no wrong."
"Bullshit 'done nothing'! Heh! You told me to talk to her and she got mad at me. Then her mom got mad at me." she whined. "Then I had to apologize, but she's still mad at me. And I'm cold! Everybody said to drink, but this stuff tastes weird; but I gotta keep drinking it or else…
"THAT'S why I didn't have tea! It takes too long!" Her head bent upwards, eyes peering over her chest. "What were we talking about, again?"
From the way he was holding himself, Jasmine guessed that he looked exasperated, at best. Yet he sighed and indulged her. "Lady Melissa is angry with you."
"That's right! You set me up and she killed the messenger! Er, well, not killed. More like, bitched about my life choices." the woman mumbled into a quiet whine. "It's not my fault I'm stuck here."
The maester sighed and walked to the edge of the bed. Patting her knee empathetically. "Now, now. Perhaps it would be best if we talk about this in the morning? Have a warm cup of tea, and a good night's rest. You will feel much better afterwards."
Jasmine made an indignant sound, and made no effort to move.
"And y'know what makes this whole thing so stupid?" She mumbled. "I did all the right things, y'know? Went to school. Studied hard. Got a degree in something fun n' useful to society. And what happen? I wind up here. What use is that degree now, eh? Worthless! That's what! So now I gotta sit around and get told off by some glorified trophy wife that I've got no value to society, or however the hell she put it."
"There now, no amount of education is worthless." The maester consoled. "I'm sure you can find a way to apply your knowledge into useful labour."
"Oh really?" Her head poked up again, swaying weakly in spite of her attempt to overpower his logic. "Who do you know that would hire me to lay out street designs and flood-water drainage? Eh?"
The maester paused, pondering over an answer. "That task is given to masterbuilders. Though, for one to be recognized as a masterbuilder, one would need to be…"
"Lemme guess, a man of good standing?"
"An apt choice of words." He noted.
"Ya. And literal on the 'man' part, I bet."
"That is true, yes."
"Ya, ats'what I thought." she groaned. "I'm not surprised. Half the time I try to talk with the builders I get brushed aside. Cuz apparently a vagina makes you less credible in this world."
'Maybe I shoulda taken engineering instead. Who knows, could've been this world's Leonardo Da Vinci. Wouldn't that have been somethin'? ...I wonder if anyone would take me seriously if I became an inventor? Though I'd have to actually invent something to make money. Maybe I could pick up some other skill in the meantime? But I suck at girly things. Wonder if there's somethin' that won't get me sectioned off from the 'boys club' mindset. Let's see here...'
As her mind continued to wander on that train of thought, her body was pulled upright and off the bed. Jasmine stumbled off her feet and crashed into Harwin's chest. Curses and mutterings falling on deaf ears. Though the jerking motions somewhat broke her from her thoughts.
"Hey, hey, hey! Easy there Harley." She slurred. He said something in response, but she could hardly hear him; momentarily mesmerized as his face seemed to grow red and redder the more he talked. In a loss of balance, her eyes fell to the floor. She found her feet at last, though they were moving closer to the door. "Hey, hey, wait, wait. I gotta talk to you about something!"
"Whatever it is you wish to say can wait until tomorrow." His body heaved as he pushed her closer to the door. "Now leave, you drunken sot."
"No, no, not yet." She pushed herself forward and twisted her body. A slam of her back leaned against the door, blocking her removal. "Listen, listen. Now… I know yer angry. But I gotta get you to listen, a'right. I have an idea, and imma gonna need your help. It's brilliant, I promise you. People're gonna love it!"
The red faced man let out an aggravated groan "If it will get you out of my chambers."
"Sure, sure."
"Then speak!"
"Alright. Alright." she leaned in closer, a dopey grin on her face as thoughts and ideas jumbled together. "So, here's the plan…"
