Chapter 8: Protection

Dating, real dating with deep feelings and love and all that stuff that people write songs about, was never in the cards for me. I mean I kissed a guy once at one of the few parties I had gone to. Sophie dared me to do it, and I guess I was tired of being the only one of us who hadn't kissed a boy yet. It didn't really count though. He shoved his tongue in my mouth, and it didn't feel right, at least it didn't feel like what I'd seen in movies or read in literature.

It doesn't help that I was raised to internalize everything, and because of that I never really accomplished the task of talking to members of the opposite sex, at least not with romantic intent. It wasn't that I couldn't talk to boys, I had problems with letting anyone in. Surface me was all anyone could really see.

That is what love is all about, right? Letting someone in past the bullshit?

The closest I ever got to letting someone in was Sophie, and we all know how that turned out.

Maybe it has something to do with my withholding parents. Maybe their version of love, flawed and unfeeling, ruined it for me.

I used to think I just needed to find the right guy, but could it really be that simple? Could it really be that far out of my hands?

Was there really nothing I could do?

During our first attempt at swordplay Rickon and I were soon joined by Arya, who I knew must have slipped away from her sewing circle. It was my first time around her, and it didn't take long for her rebellious spirit to become blatantly obvious.

Arya had always interested me the most in the books. The way she handled things, I could never quite understand how that much strength could come out of someone so young and so far away from their family. That's why it was hard to balance my attention between her and Rickon. They both were so interesting to me. He was so full of life, and the Arya I knew, the Arya I read about, was so stained with death. But not this one, though, which is probably why I couldn't stop paying attention to her. This Arya was vibrant and fun.

I didn't know much about using a sword accept for what I learned from my Kendo classes I had to take from the age of 10 to 15. My nanny then, Shina Gushiken, was obsessed with the idea that a woman needed to be able to protect her virtue. She enrolled me in a slew of classes the day I got my first period. Those were the most exhausting years of my life. Every minute not spent with my normal school studies went to one of 3 different classes she had me taking. First there was Kendo. Ms. Gushiken was raised doing Kendo, but she hated it. So did I, but every time I complained she would say "Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, that's what makes us strong." My favorite was my boxing class. I liked hitting the punching bag, and watching it swing. It made me feel almost powerful. The Model Mugging course wasn't so bad. It was the one that taught me the most about how to avoid being raped; Ms. Gushiken took that class with me. Every time we would leave she would have this fire in her that showed itself with clenched fists and deliberate breaths. She was with me up until my early admission to college. The last day we talked she told me more about why she had pushed me into those classes. When she was raped while walking home from a night class. She told me that she lived in fear for a long time after that, unable to finish her degree for years, unable to do much of anything really. She couldn't remember when she had found her strength again; she wasn't sure if she had actually. She asked me if I felt strong, but I never really gave her an answer. If she asked me today I would tell her "no." I don't feel strong, even with this wooden sword in my hands. I didn't feel strong with these scars on my wrists. Strength felt worlds away with Ms. Gushiken.

I thought about all of these things as I taught Rickon and Arya. Each move reminded me of my severe and protective nanny. I wonder if she ever found her strength. I wonder what she would say to me now that I'm here.

The weeks flew by, and whenever Rickon wanted to "play with swords" we would go find a quiet spot in the yard, away from the real swordmasters. It wouldn't take long on those days before Arya would pop up and join us.

The more time we spent together the more I worried about what was going to happen. The King would be here soon, I overheard that he was days away, and that meant that this whole world, the Stark's whole world, would crumble soon.

I wasn't the only one concerned with the pending visit.

"Ms. Emerson, Lord Eddard and I wish for an audience with you."

I looked up from my normal bowl of gruel-like stew that I ate in the evenings to find Catelyn in the doorway of the kitchen. This was the first time she'd said a word to me since my first day with Rickon. "Of course, my Lady." I held the bowl to my lips, and drank the rest down as quickly as I could.

"Oh, I should have waited for you to finish your supper." What was that I detected in her voice? Concern? Legitimate apologetics? Was Lady Stoneheart warming to me, the low-born servant?

I slurped the last of it down, swallowing before I spoke, "No, my Lady. I was nearly finished anyway." I cleaned my bowl and followed her through the halls. It was a minute of walking before I started to worry. Had I now overstayed my welcome? Did they know about Arya's trips to play with Rickon and I? What was going wrong now? I caved before I could concoct another horrible possibility. "Is there something the matter, my Lady?"

She paused for a moment and looked back to me. "No, Dahlia. We just wanted to speak with you before the King's arrival. It appears his party is making better time than we had first guessed."

I kept silent the rest of the way, and soon found myself sitting at a table across from the Stark Lord and Lady.

A minute of silence surrounded us in a fog. It seemed as though Ned was trying to decypher the correct words to use. I sat as still as I could, an instinctive move, as though the wolves might finally pounce.

It was Catelyn that broke the silence. "We are worried about you."

Worried? They were worried about me? Me? A servant? Although a rather good one, but my opinion is a bit biased there. "Have I done something wrong again?"

Ned let out a small chuckle, which seemed to free the jammed cogs of his mind. "King Robert was very much in love with my sister, Lyanna. But I'm sure you knew that. You seem to know almost everything."

Catelyn spoke next. "You surely also know that King Robert is a lecherous fiend, especially towards young, low-born women."

"I've been worrying about that too," I answered, finally letting myself worry about the potential for a brush with a man with the sexual appetite of Zeus. In fact, the more I spent time thinking about Ms. Gushiken the more I realized if what Ned said was true, if I really looked like Lyanna, I would be at risk when the King came to Winterfell. "That's something I don't know what to do about. He's the King, and his word is law, but I really don't want..." I stopped myself from saying it out loud.

"We aren't sure what to do about this issue either," said Ned.

"We would keep you hidden, but Rickon is so attached to you, and we can't have him throwing a tantrum when we have guests." It was interesting to see the sincerity in Cat's eyes. Perhaps my time with Rickon did ease her hatred for me, or maybe Ned's strange brother-like affection seeped in a bit over the last month. Whatever it was, I was glad that Lady Catelyn was at least a little on my side.

"Robert is a dear friend of mine, like a brother to me," Ned paused for a few beats before continuing, "but I am sure that, upon seeing you, and knowing that you are a mere maid for my youngest boy, he wouldn't hesitate to…"

"So, I can't hide, and I can't be seen," I laughed, my nervousness about the situation suddenly very apparent in my voice. I was shaking too, in my hands. I kept wringing them to keep them busy.

Cat spoke next. "You can't be seen… as a servant."

"What do you mean?"

"It would appear that, for the duration of the King's visit, you will be our ward. Hopefully that will be enough to dissuade our King." Catelyn's words took a few minutes to hit me. Real food. I would get real food. I felt so shallow thinking about only food, but it had been months of scraps and stew. I was dying for something of substance.

"We will find you some proper clothes, and you and Rickon will spend the rest of the time before the King's arrival learning how to act properly. We will set you up in better lodging, a door with a strong lock should keep our King at bay." Ned was smiling as he spoke, nearly laughing. "Of course, you will still be required to look after Rickon."

"Of course."

"Good, now onto the next bit of business we have."

"You have told my husband some horrifying things, Ms. Emerson. You have spoken about my sister betraying me, and my husband dying. You have spoken of Bran falling, and losing the use of his legs." I could see distress all over her face. I couldn't imagine what that would be like, to hear all the things I have said about people I care about. Her voice's resolve grew as she continued, "I am not the kind of woman who would believe some common girl could know of such things, but we when I hear these things, I just can't take them lightly. We would like you to advise us on what to do."

I tell them everything I can think of, about Lysa's letter, and keeping Bran from climbing. I tell them anything and everything I can think of, save for the truth that Jon Aryyn died for. We had been talking so long, the candles in the room had nearly gone out. I could feel it in my eyelids; I needed sleep soon.

"Don't go south, my Lord. Don't let Arya or Sansa go south. Don't let the direwolves go south. And finally, and I don't mean to anger you Lady Catelyn, but it has to be said. For the love of the gods, tell Jon Snow who his real parents are, or at least legitimize him and save us all some trouble."

Lord Stark nodded, standing to indicate the end of our meeting. I looked to Lady Cat, worried that I had spoken too far out of turn. Catelyn's face hardened, but only slightly before it was replaced by confusion.

"We will consider what you've said."

Maester Luwin, who had been with us the whole time, occasionally asking for clarification, or adding his insights, stood up to escort me to my new chambers. I walked alongside him, towards the direction of Rickon's room. I would be rooming near all the other children, I guess. He left me as soon as I entered my new room. His final sentiment being "I pray to the gods that you are wrong."

I undressed and climbed into my new bed. It was far more comfortable than what I had been sleeping on for the last month. This room was at least three times the size as my old one, and a bit warmer too.

My mind wouldn't stop buzzing.

I was relieved morning came and a fresh set of clothes had been laid on the table in my room. They were much more comfortable than what I had been wearing, mainly because these were actually my size. It was also much easier to wake Rickon for breakfast, because I didn't need to climb any stairs. I simply had to walk across the hallway and there I was.

And breakfast. I got to actually eat breakfast. The Stark children didn't seem at all bothered by me sitting in my own chair beside Rickon. In fact, they all seemed a bit relieved, even Sansa. The only person who voiced any concern was Theon, but I followed Rickon's advice and paid him no attention.

I was also relieved when it wasn't just Rickon and me getting etiquette lessons from Maester Luwin and Septa Mordane. It was all of the others. Most of their customs were the same as the ones I learned in my preparatory studies, so it was all second nature to me. The hardest thing I had to do was try to make it fun for Rickon, who was struggling keeping his focus.

It was nice though, to feel like I belonged, even if it was only going to be for the King's Visit.

When we were done with our etiquette training for the day, Rickon immediately wanted to go play with Shaggy Dog. I was surprised when most of the others joined us.

"I heard you're a Stark ward now." I turned to see Robb striding up to my side.

"Just while the King's here."

"Oh. Why would my father do that?"

"He says I look like Lyanna." It felt odd saying that to Robb. It felt odd talking to Robb most of the time. Not bad odd though. It was kind of like when you get off of a rollercoaster, and everything was still jumbly. I continued, trying to breath through my awkwardness. I looked around to make sure no one was listening to us. "The King loved her a lot, and I think they are worried about what he'd do to me. I know I am."

"He's the king though. Wouldn't it be an honor to be one of his... lovers?"

"God no!" He started laughing. I almost joined him, but instead I backtracked, "I mean… I'm sorry. I just, I am still… pure, I guess. So, I don't exactly want to lose it to someone I don't even know."

"You really think that if you're their ward and not their servant that will make all the difference?" He looked at me with skeptical blue eyes. I could never seem to look into them for more than a few seconds at a time without feeling like I was blushing, so I tried to avoid them altogether, but today I couldn't.

"You think it won't be enough?" I stopped walking for a second, seeing Rickon and Shaggy Dog in my peripheral already happily playing.

Robb seemed to think for a few seconds, first looking down at the ground for a moment, then back to me for what felt like hours. I could feel my face starting to overheat as I waited for him to answer me. "I know if I was a king, and I could have anyone that I wanted, I would want you regardless of if you were a ward or a servant."

I felt my eyebrows furrow as I tried to figure out exactly what he was saying. And just when I was about to open my mouth to say something back Jon Snow and the Ghost pup came up to us.

"My father said that I should speak with you."

"Me?" I was in a whirl of confusion. Why? Why would Ned want Jon to speak to me?

"Yes. Can we walk?"

"Okay."

Robb left us hesitantly. It looked like he had more to say to me, but in all honesty I was glad for the interruption. I needed time to decypher. Time to analyze. Time to overthink.

It was surprisingly natural to walk with Jon Snow. I had read his angst-ridden chapters many times, and in person he didn't seem so comically intense. At least, he didn't until he started to speak.

"Tell me about my mother."

His words startled me, and my face contorted into a flabberghasted expression for a few seconds before it relaxed back into its normal boring self. "I'm not sure I'm the one who should be telling you this. I only have a theory."

"You don't know who she is? Lord Stark said you knew."

I tried to think about how to answer this doozy of a question, but nothing came. "I'll tell you, but it really shouldn't be me. It should be Ned."

"Please." We stopped walking and he grabbed my arm.

"What would you say if your father wasn't Eddard Stark?"

"I'd call you a liar."

"Then call me a liar."

"What are you saying?" His hand gripped my arm tighter.

"I think… Things seem to point to… Sorry, let me start over." All of my stalling didn't seem to have any effect on Jon's desire for answers. So I told him what I believed to be true. "Your mother is Lyanna Stark, and your father is Rhaegar Targaryen."

His grip slackened, and I could see in his eyes that he went somewhere else for a minute.

"Obviously, this is something that you have to keep to yourself. King Robert isn't a forgiving guy, and I don't want you to die. I'm sure you don't want to die either."

He didn't say anything. He didn't even move. His face seemed almost hurt, like a child who had skinned his knee but was trying to be brave about it.

For a fraction of a second I saw Jon Snow for what he really was: a lonely child. I remembered feeling like that, only I couldn't imagine the severity of what he was feeling. So I did something out of the ordinary for me. I reached out and hugged him. Not like the hugs I gave Rickon whenever he was being exceptionally good, not even like the hugs Sophie and I had shared. I gave him a real hug. I couldn't tell if it was the right thing to do, but it felt right. I felt this twinge in my chest. I might not know Jon Snow, not like how I've gotten to know some of the other people in Winterfell since I'd arrived, but I felt like I needed to be there for him. I wasn't Lyanna, but I allegedly wore her face. It was only right that I tried to do something for her too. "Don't join the Night's Watch yet. Stay in Winterfell a while longer."

Author's Note:

So, obviously I'm buying into R + L = J, so just roll with it. Please feel free and encouraged to review, even if you are not a member of this site. I would love feedback. Thanks for reading!