A/N Hey folks. I've been sitting on this chapter for ages. Usually I don't post until I've written more of the following chapter, but I'm hitting some writers block for how the next chapter will lead to bigger events during this arc. I tried to end my writer's block with a few personal drabbles, and ended up writing 17k of a silly HP fanfic idea that I may or may not post one day. That said, I figured I might as well send this one out until the block ends. It's both one my shortest and heaviest chapters so far. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: Daisy Chain
All this running around and catching rumours was building up an appetite. That, coupled with hope of more answers, led Jasmine to wandering into the kitchens to set up a late lunch. She wove between the cooks and kitchen-help, pocketing bread rolls, fruit, and a slice of soft cheese, then eyed an unused kettle and swiped it for her own use. Well, her and the table of women busy cutting vegetables for tonight's dinner. It'd be rude to use their space without offering them a nice cup of tea, after all.
Once tea was served around the table, Jasmine plopped herself onto the one empty stool and bit into the bread roll.
"So, what have I missed?"
Two of the older women, Jan and Randa, eyed each other knowingly. The third, Lorelai, smirked at Jasmine. "Not very much. All anyone can talk about today is the young Marbrand's return."
"You mean Former Marbrand." Randa teased.
Lorelai rolled her eyes. "I've known that boy since he was at his mother's breast. You don't stop being what you are just because some fancy paper says so."
"Yet Highborns seem to live their whole lives around them." Randa noted.
That got a round of chuckles and comments from the group. Jasmine herself enjoyed the banter as she worked through her lunch.
"So, Switzer," Lorelai looked at her expectantly, "you going to sit there pretty or you going to ask?"
"Ask what?"
Lorelai raised an eyebrow in wry amusement. "Whatever it is you came here to ask. I can spot a she-hound sniffing out a rumour from a mile away."
Jasmine grinned openly. "Alright, you caught me." She dramatically chewed her thoughts over a slice of cheese, letting the silence build. "Well, thing is, I've been hearing a lot of things today; and it all seems to contradict each other. Which is normal for rumours, so I can let that slide.
"But," She leaned back casually in her chair, "here's the one thing I haven't heard. How this all ties in to Lord Daven and Lady Ryella."
"You mean, aside from the obvious?" Megga asked.
Jasmine shrugged, leaning forward again. "There's nothing obvious on my end. All I know is neither of them want to be around him."
"True. For the youngest brother that is." Lorelai offered a sympathetic pout. She then put down the carrots she was slicing and ducked into a whisper. "But, truth is, the little Lady fancied the older brother. Probably would've been happier having him as a husband instead of the lot she got."
"Oh... Oh. Shit." That… had a lot of possible implications. But, again, that all depended on which rumours were true and which weren't. There were enough witnesses to confirm Dareon prefered men. Which begs the question, did Ryella make a confession and got rejected, or did they… Oh, fuck!
"Does Daven know that she-" Jasmine's words were caught off from a heavy set of arms slamming on the table.
"Fer the last damn time, quit yappin' like a bunch of empty-headed highborns and stick to yer duties!" Gendel barked at the lot of them.
"Sorry!" Megga squeaked. The others simply frowned and put their eyes back on their work.
"And you," Gendel flicked his knife-hand to point at Jasmine, "if you ain't bein' useful then get outta my kitchen! Got it?"
The words barely registered. Jasmine was more caught up in the tone of the orders. That, and the knife jerking a mere inch from her face. Her mind focusing on a single, solid instruction.
Don't. Scream.
Holding in the urge to shake, she nodded her head and slipped off of the stool. Stepping carefully from the table. Eyes refusing to break contact from the knife until Gendel turned around and went back to his workstation. Like a release from bonds, losing sight of the knife was enough for Jasmine to turn around and jog out of the kitchen.
'That was close.' One of her thoughts betrayed as she stepped into the open air. Her lungs released a breathe she hadn't realized she was holding.
'You're exaggerating.' Another thought hoped to placate her. 'Come on, do you really think Gendel would straight up stab you? In the kitchen? That's ridiculous.'
'You use to think the same thing about dad.'
The answer came almost too casually. Like a simple fact of life. Yet the harshness of it made her inner voice recoil at the thought.
'...Fuck. Kay, I'll give you that.'
Memories flitted across her eyes, merging between Gendel, her first day in Westeros, and her old world. Her breathing hitched as arms began to jerk and tremble.
'Ya, no. Let's focus on something else.' The inner voice suggested. 'Deep breaths, and somewhere quiet, just in case.'
She began breathing the measured breaths, thoughts half-distracted on where her feet were taking her.
'Somewhere quiet. Right.'
Somewhere quiet came in the form of the Godswood. She was almost thankful that the place was seldom visited. No one came here for religious reasons. Even if there had been any Northern visitors, there are no weirwoods here to pray to. Unless you counted the large, white stump that had been cut down who knows how many centuries ago. The Godswood of Ashemark was, at most, a place of leisure strolls. Though, as many pointed out to Jasmine, it paled in comparison to other Godswoods in the Westerlands and the Reach. Other gardens brimmed with hedge mazes, climbing roses, and strong deciduous trees birthed from a nest of rich, brown earth. Ashemark's, on the other hand, was more stone than earth and pockmarked from years of rain and heavy snows. That said, it still had its own tranquil beauty to it. Like a walk through coastal cliffs or a hike through the Canadian Shields. Not a place commonly sought-out, but a refuge for those who need it's gentle beauty.
In Jasmine's case, her need was a simple one. Find a large rock, sit behind it, and wait for the risks of a panic attack to blow over.
What she hadn't accounted for, however, was for said large rock to be occupied.
"Ryella?" Came a note of surprise.
The younger woman jumped in her granite seat. A frown decorated her face before blooming into a sheepish smile. "Good day, Jasmine. A lovely day for a stroll, isn't it?"
A reflexive glance upwards found a clouded sky with sparring patches of blue.
"Quite." Chirped a sarcastic reply. Yet the joke amused enough to muster a small smile. "Actually I was planning on finding a place to hide for the day." She peered over at her friend with a sardonic smile. "Though it seems the best rock's been taken."
"Oh, I didn't mean to…" She trailed at a loss for words.
"That's alright." She understood why Ryella would be here now, of all times. "You're hiding too, right?"
Ryella blushed deeply "No. I- I mean ...yes, I am." she relented at last.
"Great!" Jasmine plopped down beside her with faux cheer. "Then we'll hide here together."
Ryella gave the woman a ponderous look. After some searching, a gracious smile brightened her face. "I'd like that."
They lounged against that rock well until the hazy sun drifted to the horizon. Busying themselves with flower chains and stylized rocks piles, they sat in calming silence, punctuated at intervals by the hum of bees and birds and the occasional trickle of laughter. When their stomachs rumbled, they went in search of strawberries before returning to their granite sanctuary, red-lipped and giggling.
"You know what would make this perfect?" Ryella pondered as she admired a particularly dark berry. "A batch of candied pecans."
"Oh god, yes!" Jasmine hissed the final word in pleasure as her head lolled onto Ryella's shoulder. "Pecans fresh off the tree-"
"-simmering in a pot of boiled sugar."
"A dash of cinnamon-"
"-and nutmeg."
"Naturally."
"Together with the strawberries on a creamed cake."
Jasmine paused, staring at Ryella, wide-eyed. "You're a genius!"
The girl blushed and giggled over the exclamation. Hiding her face in her hand. "Only you could think that kindly of me."
Jasmine poked the girl's arm. "Hey, it's the truth, you better believe it!"
Ryella didn't agree, exactly, but she did smile at her friend's statement.
They sat together in silence as Ryella finished the last strawberry. Jasmine went back to work on her daisy chain. Unbeknownst to her, Ryella's smile slowly faded. "How long will it be until people stop talking?" Ryella asked.
Jasmine grazed her fingers over the flower stems as she pondered an answer. "Until they have nothing left to say." It was all she could offer the girl.
"They already have nothing to say. It doesn't stop the whispers, though."
That tore a bit. At once Jasmine felt guilt at taking part in the gossip to uncover the truth. She had good intentions, but... perhaps those intentions won't end up helping Ryella if asking behind her back ends up hurting her more in the process. So, instead, Jasmine expelled a guilt-ridden sigh, sat herself up, and wrapped Ryella up in a one-armed hug.
"Hey, it's going to be okay." She whispered in the girl's ear as Ryella leaned into the hug. "It'll all get better soon. You'll see."
"I hope you're right." The girl mumbled. They sat there in silence a while longer. Jasmine's hand stroking the girl's back in comfort, feeling as her body eased with each calming breath.
Distracted in their thoughts, the two women belatedly caught the sound of voices coming from the garden path. A pair of footsteps marched in their direction, as a voice called out from further away.
"Brother, please, we can talk this out like men."
"You're no brother of mine!"
A chill came over Jasmine. That was Daven talking. Which means-
"Father may have taken my name, but we're still family."
"Family?" The disgust rolled off the tongue like sludge through a sewer. "What do you know of family? Family doesn't abandon each other and act like a selfish prat while others suffer."
"I- I didn't think things would be that bad."
"Why, because you can fuck whoever you wish without a care? How is young Markus, by the way?" The latter question ended in a malicious sneer she's never once heard from Daven lips.
'But, wait, Markus? Isn't that-?'
The other voice growled lowly. "He's dead."
There was silence, all but a slight huff.
"Was it worth it?"
"Drop it, brother."
"No. I won't." A crunch of steps punctuated the intensity. "I have had to stay here, to suffer here, because of you. If you had done your duty, instead of riding off after some squire-"
"You would have done the same. You're just like me-"
"-No! I'm nothing like you! I never wanted marriage. I never wanted to be with a woman; and I certainly didn't want to be with her!"
There was ice in her stomach. At once everything fell into place. The hints. The rumors. The marriage that is and never was. 'That… that son of a bitch.' She wasn't even sure who that thought was meant for. But, by the gods, was it deserved.
Two hands clasped her arms in that moment. She turned to the source. Ryella's face was white and her eyes were red, with tears brimming to spill. Her head jerked side to side, eyes pleading.
'Don't. Please.'
It was then Jasmine found that her legs had been poised to spring forward. She looked back on Ryella. This girl, this kind and thoughtful girl, whose voice was meek ...yet her eyes are pleading so strongly. Jasmine couldn't… her hands returned the gesture to Ryella's forearms, and surrendered to the stone shelter.
"I could have been at the Citadel by now, like I always planned, while you could have married and still go about your life like you always do. But, no, you left while I had to lose everything to fulfill the arrangement and save our families from shame. All because you 'didn't think things would be bad'. So, I ask you again, was it worth it?"
There was a deathly silence. Without even a wind to rustle against the trees. It suffocated. How can one possibly breathe at this moment?
"No matter how I answer that," Dareon's words came careful and precise, like the dark edge of an obsidian blade, "it won't change anything."
"No." Daven sounded almost surprised, yet disgusted all the same. "It won't."
There was a shuffled of steps. One. Two. Three. Four. "What now?"
"I've said my peace. I have nothing left to say to you." Steps moved farther away now. "Stay here as long as Damon allows you, or until you find another squire to run off with, I don't care which comes first."
Dareon whispered something under his breath. Too quiet for anyone to hear. Once it was said he, too, stepped away from the garden and back towards the castle.
The icy stillness left. At once Jasmine shuddered to breath again. The accusations. The plans. The arrangements. Markus. It all finally fell into place. And Ryella-
Ryella!
-Ryella had curled into herself with her face hidden. Quiet tears no doubt falling on her shaking form. At once Jasmine swept the girl into her arms. The warmth and suddenness of the gesture cracked the girl's weak defenses. Her voice cried in pain and shame, and her fingers dug tightly into Jasmine's skin as it all came pouring out.
'I'm sorry.' The words came mute as she held her tighter. 'Ryella, I'm so sorry.'
The others were right all along. This isn't a problem she can fix.
They left the garden after sunset. Ryella, reasonably so, didn't want anyone to see her in her current state. Maybe she could have recovered in the garden; but, after hearing that particular exchange, those hopes were dashed in a heartbeat. The poor girl was too frightened of the stares and whispers that awaited her to face them head on. So, under the cover of night and cautious steps, the two of them crept up to Jasmine's chambers. Jasmine sure as hell wasn't about to leave her alone. Certainly not back to Ryella's room, left alone with him.
"You can stay here tonight." She closed the door harshly and marched over to a wardrobe. Moving clothing around in precise fashion, she pulled out a choice nightgown. "I've got night clothes you can borrow, so don't worry about any chambermaids knowing."
Three heartbeats passed. "Thank you, Jasmine."
"Don't mention it." She tossed the nightgown onto the bed and gestured for Ryella to turn so that she could unlace her dress. While her hands worked, Jasmine couldn't help but think of that argument between the brothers and its implications.
Markus, Margaery's cousin. The hot-headed cousin who jumped to defend the wayward Dareon's honour. The man Dareon ran off with-
-forcing Daven to marry Ryella. To have to marry Ryella. Even though Ryella preferred the older broth-
-no, that's not right. She was suppose to marry the older brother; but was stuck with the younger. Even though he never-
-never wanted to marry a woman.
-because he's 'just like his brother'. The brother who prefers men.
"Those fucking assholes!" she growled under her breath.
"Pardon?" Ryella jumped in alarm.
Jasmine gave a ragged breath and shook her head. "Nothing. Sorry. It's just… this whole thing's a mess."
Beneath her hands, Ryella tensed under the weight of it all. "It is, but… that's how things are."
"It shouldn't be. Forced marriages, dishonesty, prejudice. It just complicates life more than necessary and ends up hurting people." The statement was meant with silence as Jasmine finished the unlacing. "At the very least… even after that business with Dareon, Daven shouldn't have mistreated you the way he has. I mean, it's not like either of you wanted this." She helped Ryella out of the dress, then placed it on the bed to exchange it for the nightgown.
"I did want this." Ryella whispered. Jasmine paused, a sense of confusion as she turned back to Ryella. Ryella, herself, had her eyes to the floor. "I wanted a husband. I was happy to marry Daven, even after…
"I- I want to love him, and for him to love me, back." She lifted her head a fraction. Shy tears glistened in her eyes. "But I suppose I'm being silly to hope, after all of this time, aren't I?"
A coldness returned. Icy tendrils of frost both beautiful and deadly to the touch coursed up Jasmine's back. After all that he said about her, she still held some small hope?
"I don't know the answer to that." The lie felt heavy in her mouth. Morestill as she handed Ryella the nightgown and went to remove her own clothing for the night. A sense of cowardice enveloping her mental state.
God, what a fucking mess this is.
