ChaCha here! So I forgot to mention that I don't own anything...no really I don't even own my car yet. Thanks to those of you who reviewed and added this to their subscription lists. I'm really happy that you've all taken interest in my story. I also forgot to mention that this story will contain book spoilers. This chapter doesn't have any, (I think-the story about Dany is something that I mostly fabricated) but further chapters will. Hope you like the new chapter.
~x~
When Josslyn walked in Bran couldn't take his eyes off of her. She had changed into a gown of dark blue, that seemed to make her green eyes stand out even more if that was possible.
"I take it that your family couldn't join us?" she said with a sly but understanding smile. Bran knew she wasn't fool enough to believe the story he concocted, but all the same he recited it.
"My sisters children took ill with a fever, and my brother's wife is very near the end of per pregnancy." The part about Marci was true enough, but Arya had bullied Rickon into not attending dinner, when she and Sansa refused to eat with her. Josslyn's eyes were sad, but in a move that surprised him, she place a hand on his own.
"I understand," she said politely, but by her tone, Bran could see that she understood more than she said. He just stared at her, completely forgetting that she had placed her hand on his. She seemed to realize after a few moments that she still held his hand. She quickly removed it and blushed. Bran couldn't help but smile as the pink crept across her cheeks. He thought she was perhaps more lovely when she blushed.
Dinner was an awkward affair to start, but soon enough Josslyn seemed to be at ease. In this moment, she was less of the properly bred lady, he had seen in the hall, are more of the wild girl that he had seen fearlessly standing on the back of her galloping horse. He found that he greatly enjoyed her company. She had spent some time in King's Landing and had met his brother Jon, who was now serving the queen still a brother of the Night's Watch, but as a member of the small council as well. The kingdom now fully supported the Watch as it hadn't done in centuries and he suspected that Jon was the reason.
As Josslyn told stories of his brother at court, Bran couldn't help that his gaze wandered down to her chest. The tops of her large breasts were peaking over the top of her bodice. He swallowed as he could feel his pants tightening at the idea of those large breasts in his hands and his lips on her neck. He shook his head, trying to focus on what she was saying rather then thinking of her in a compromising position.
He had had women before, but only tavern wenches. But she was a lady, and he couldn't take her to his bed. He watched her lips as she spoke, and wondered what they would taste like. He had a sudden flash of an image in his mind of her sitting perched on his lap, his fingers buried in her long hair pulling her closer to him, when he realized she had stopped talking.
"I'm sorry my lady," Bran said his voice almost foreign to his own ears.
"I must be keeping you from your rest," Josslyn smiled. "Sleep well, my lord," she said rising and moving to the door.
"Bran." Josslyn turned to looked at him confusion written across her face. "Call me Bran."
~x~
Josslyn heart almost stopped when he said "Call me Bran." He rolled his chair back slightly and angled so he could face her better. He was asking her to drop all of the courtly courtesies she had learned and simply befriend him. It was far more than she could have asked for when she crossed the threshold of Winterfell.
"Only if you call me Josslyn," she responded with a conspiratory smile.
"Josslyn," she heard him whisper as if trying the name out. His eyes met hers and she felt frozen to the spot, and he stared at her much the same way, his eyes half lidded. "Good night Josslyn," he said his voice husky, and that seem to startle her out of the spell she'd been under.
"Good night Bran," she smiled and turned to leave. She seemed to float back to her room, she dressed her self for bed and crawled between the sheets. She dreamed that night. Dreamed of Bran kissing her and touching her in places where no proper unmarried lady should dream of being touched.
Josslyn awoke before dawn, her sheets soaked in sweat. She rose and washed herself. She had never been an early riser, often fighting to stay asleep long after the sun had risen, but she just couldn't sleep anymore. The dreams she'd had last night were burning in her mind, and in her body. She dressed warmly and walked the outer walls of the castle. Winterfell was so quiet and peaceful and the sun was just barely peaking over the horizon that she leaned against the wall and watched the sun rise, breathing deeply.
That was the way Bran found her. He had been so silent when he approached and she was so engrossed in her own burning thoughts that she hadn't even noticed him, so when he said her name she leapt.
"Gods Bran," she said her heart beating from what she suspected was more than only fright. "You startled me." She could see him smile in the pale light of the rising sun. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked wondering if he could see the blush that covered her face.
"No," he said a smile on his face. "I'm just an early riser." Bran smirked and Joss wondered if he knew what she was thinking. Josslyn smiled and took a deep breath.
"I can smell snow," she laughed.
"We usually get some snow year round," Bran said turning to face the dawn. "I don't think I've ever heard a southerner so happy about the snow."
"For most," Josslyn laughed "Snow is simply a harbinger of the Winter, but for me…" she paused shrugging. "I find snow almost magical. Like a clean slate. The world washed in white to start a new." She stood up straight, remembering herself. "Listen to me go on. I'm sorry," she said suddenly embarrassed.
"Nothing to be sorry for," Bran stared at her with a smile. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he returned it to the lightening sky. For some time they stayed in companionable silence, simply watching the sun come up and the world begin to stir around them. "Have you broken your fast?" Bran asked. Josslyn simply shook her head. "Join me then, will you?" He smiled so brightly that she felt her heart skip a beat, before she frowned.
"Bran," she said looking down at him. "Let's not lie about the situation. Your sisters do not want me there, and I don't want to make it uncomfortable for them." She had wished that the Stark women had been a little kinder to her, but she really could be mad at them. They had been grossly mistreated by her family, and though she and her parents had nothing to do with it, she could understand their distrust of Lannister's in general.
"My sisters," Bran said, a hint of a growl in his voice "Would do well to remember their courtesies." Josslyn opened her mouth to protest, but Bran raised a had and cut her off. "I enjoyed your company last night, and I would like you there. I think, in time, my sisters would grow to like you as well. I will not take no for an answer," Bran said and he winked.
They walked together down to the hall, where Josslyn found the entire family already around the table. Arya stood as she entered, but with a warning look from Gendry she sat back down. Sadly Josslyn saw that Tommen was nowhere to be seen, went to the end of the table near Rickon and his wife who greeted her warmly. She chatted a bit with Marci who was fairly new to the family, but noticed that no one else even looked in her direction. All except Bran, who seemed to be watching her closely. Josslyn took a deep breath, steeling herself,
"Lady Arya," she said loud and clear so there would be no mistake. "You brother Jon told me you learned the sword from a Bravossi." Arya narrowed her eyes at Josslyn wondering where she might go with this.
"It's true," Arya said not smiling.
"Quite a feat," Josslyn said. "I've heard that the water dance is incredibly demanding. Not only physically but mentally."
"You speak as one who knows," Arya said noncommittally. "Do you fight?"
"Yes," Josslyn admitted noticing the surprised look on Bran's face. "But with knives, not a sword." This seemed to perk Arya's interest.
"Knives?' she asked a hint of approval in her voice.
"Yes, my lady," Josslyn smiled. "My lord father got it into his head that knives were a more appropriate weapon for a lady and hired an Asshai knife fighter to teach me."
"We should duel some time," Arya said an odd glint in her eye.
"I would rather like that," Josslyn said. "Outside of Casterly Rock I've had no chance to practice."
"After we've eaten then," Arya said happily.
"At your leisure," Josslyn smiled, hoping that the bold move might have taken her one step closer to being able to call the youngest Stark daughter a friend. After breakfast, Josslyn returned to her room and changed into a rough spun tunic and a pair of leather breaches. She grabbed her dulled sparing knives, and made her way into the court yard where Arya was waiting for her, dressed much the same, an excited smile on her face.
Without speaking Arya took a sideways stance, classic of a water dancer, and Josslyn, crouched bent slightly, her slightly curved knives grasped loosely in her hands. Arya lunged at her with blinding speed, and Josslyn was barely able to dodge, raising one of her knives to block and with the other she spun quickly meaning to take Arya unawares in the side.
But the water dancer moved as if she expected this, and dodged the attack. Josslyn took the offence this time, bringing a barrage of blows that Arya was able to catch with the edge of her dulled blade, before she finally countered a strike nearly making Josslyn loose her balance.
They continued this way for another quarter of an hour, until they finally decided to call a halt. Arya was laughing, "We're far to evenly matched you and I. We even seemed to exhaust at the same time." Josslyn laughed, but thought Arya was just being kind. If they had continued any longer, Josslyn knew that she never would have won, Arya's skills were far better than she had let on, and Joss felt that Arya had been toying with her for most of the match.
"You know," Arya said quietly so that no one would overhear. "You're not as bad as I thought you'd be. In fact, I may be starting to like you, gods help me. A fellow lady fighter, I'd hardly believe you a Lannister." Arya smiled kindly at her, "I'm sorry if I was rude."
"You had you reasons," Josslyn said panting. She was amazed that Arya seemed not to tire. She grimaced slightly wondering if she really was that out of practice.
"Yes," Arya waved a hand dismissively. "But the reasons are unfounded and based in pain a decade gone. You are living proof that not all Lannister's are the same."
"If all it took to gain your favor," Josslyn smiled, her breath returning to her, "Was a fight, I wonder why I didn't draw knives the moment I crossed the threshold." Arya let out a bawdy laugh and Joss smiled brightly.
"This lion bites like a wolf," Arya winked. "If you had, I wouldn't have taken it easy on you." Josslyn nodded, Arya clapped her on the shoulder and walked away laughing. She's heard stories, rumors really, of how Arya Stark had survived for years on her own after fleeing King's Landing, but from the spark of defiance that Josslyn had seen in her eyes while fighting, and from the way she handled the sword, she no longer wondered if they were true.
"That was quite impressive," Bran's voice startled her out of her thoughts. She turned to see him sitting in his chair in a dark corner of the courtyard.
"Not as impressive as it looked," Josslyn admitted with a smile. "Your sister is a keen fighter, and she was really just toying with me." Bran laughed and the sound was like music to her ears.
"You seemed to gain her approval though," Bran said, his smile hiding something, but what she couldn't tell.
"I'm glad for that," Josslyn turned away from his burning gaze. "I admire any woman who forges her own path." She watched Arya's retreating form and saw her dire wolf, Nymeria, join in at her side. She could still feel Bran's gaze on her and she wondered why. "If you'll excuse me, I should change." She turned back and saw that Bran smiled, but it never reached his eyes. She bowed slightly and left.
~x~
As Bran watched Josslyn go, he had to admit he was frustrated. He was far more intrigued by this woman than he had any right to be. It has to be her eyes, he thought. She has no pity in them. His heart swelled at the thought that he had finally met someone who saw him, but not the cripple. He shook these thoughts from his head. She had been several years at court, she was likely just better at hiding it than the others. He ran a hand though his short hair. He had fought with Sansa this morning, who was still angry that a Lannister was beneath the roof.
"Sister please," Rickon had tried to reason with her. "She's given us no reason to mistrust her."
"She's a Lannister," Sansa said firmly. "That's reason enough."
"If that's how you feel," Bran had snapped, "Then at least remember to be polite. You seem to have forgotten your manners in your old age." Sansa had laughed bitterly about his quip at her age, but that night at dinner, she was the proper perfect lady.
"Did you see the dragons when you were in King's Landing?" little Eleanor asked Josslyn. She was seated at the foot of the table with Tommen and the children, but she didn't care, the children were full of energy and seemed to keep her entertained. With a happy smile, Joss turned her attention to Sansa's eldest child.
"Yes," she whispered making Eleanor and the other children lean in closely. "The are huge creatures, with scales as hard as stone, that sparkle even on the darkest of nights. Their fire lights up the night sky as if day as suddenly broken and listen to no one but their mother, the queen." Bran smiled suddenly remembering Old Nan, who would tell stories in the same quiet voice, forcing all the children to fall under her spell.
"Do they eat children?" Edwin asked his voice trembling from fear.
"Of course not," Josslyn laughed loudly. "They like horses and sheep. But the queen would never let them eat children."
"Then that's not a good story," little Eddard pouted. Josslyn smiled, seeming to understand what Eddard meant.
"So then," her voice was a whisper again. "You like scary stories." All the children leaned in excitedly, nodding. "Well," Josslyn said a twinkle in her bright green eyes, "They say that years ago, before the queen returned to Westeros, that a man came to her, claiming that his army would defeat her. He said that no army lead by a woman could possibly defeat a man such as him. The queen smiled kindly and offered the man a place leading her vanguard if he would give up his foolishness and pledge his sword to her. The queen knew that she could take the man's city, for she had three great dragons. Viserion, Rhaegal and Drogon, named for her brothers and the man she loved and lost. The man foolishly refused and said "I shall kill all your men, take your women as my bed slaves and you…you foolish little girl, I will keep your head as a skull on my spear, so that all my enemies can see that even the Mother of Dragons falls beneath my blade."
"Drogon roared and spit a torrent of black flame at the man, before swallowing him whole in front the foolish mans entire army. The army swore allegiance to the queen the very instant that Drogon had swallowed their leader, but it is said," Josslyn paused her and lean in to the children who stared at her with wide excited eyes. Bran resisted the urge to lean is as well, for he always love stories like this. "It is said," Josslyn repeated her voice so low that everyone had to strain to make out what she was saying, "That to this day, if you press your ear to Drogon's stomach, you can still hear the mans screams."
The table was deathly silent, as everyone, even Sansa hung on every word that came out of Josslyn's mouth. Bran could see Josslyn's eyes flit about studying each of the children's faces, before her hand snatched out and grabbed Eddard's arm and she let forth a cry that echoed in the hall. Eddard leapt from his chair and all of the children let out screams of fear and delight, and then descended into laughter. After their story the children were sent off to bed and only the adults remained, sipping at their wine and talking.
"You are quite good with children," Sansa said politely to Josslyn, but Bran could hear grudging respect in her voice.
"I've always loved children," Josslyn said happily. "And this bunch are sweeter than most, it would be hard not to adore them."
"May the Mother bless you and your betrothed with many children then," Sansa said kindly but Bran knew this was her way of getting more information out of Josslyn.
"Oh," Josslyn said with a knowing smile. "I am not betrothed." If Sansa was surprised by this he couldn't tell.
"Really?" Sansa asked, her tone very curious now. "A beautiful young lady, with the gold of Casterly Rock behind her? I find it hard to believe that you do not have suitors beating down the gates."
"I've had suitors enough," Josslyn said almost off handedly. "But my father turned them away."
"Why is that?" Arya asked joining in the conversation.
"My father," Josslyn said with a contented smile, "May be Lord of Casterly Rock now, but when he was born he was of a lesser Lannister house and because of that he was able to marry for love. He met my mother in the free cities and brought her back to be his lady. He says that the life of a lord holds too few real joys, so it's better to marry for love rather than power or political alliance, then at least you know you will always be happy at home."
"So there are no kind knights or handsome lords that have caught your fancy?" Sansa asked her eyes narrowed. Bran heard Sandor scoff at his wife's words.
"You of all people my lady," Josslyn replied no smile on her face. "Should know that knights are not always kind, and heroes not always handsome." Bran saw her gaze flicker to Sandor, but the old Hound said nothing. "Just look at my relatives," Josslyn leaned back in her chair, spinning the last of her wine around in her cup. "Cersei was as beautiful as the day is long, and yet was a cruel as a never ending winter. Tyrion was a dwarf, malformed, gods rest his soul, but was kinder and smarter than the rest of his family combined. It is not the beauty of a person or a title that defines their worth, but their heart and their actions." A genuine smile crossed Sansa's face and she reached for Sandor's hand. Josslyn has hit the mark, Bran thought.
But her words gave him hope, she had spoken of finding what a person was worth, not by judging them by their appearance alone. He watched her, speaking to his siblings now as if she had known them her whole life. Arya and Sansa finally seeming at ease with their guest. She glanced at him, and when their eyes met, he saw a blush creep over her face again, and she tried to hide it by sipping at her wine.
When she finally excused herself from the table, Bran followed her. He saw her back to her room, chatting the whole way about nothing. He was trying to get the nerve to say what he really wanted to, but he found every time he tried, a knot would form in his stomach, making it impossible to speak. All too quickly they reached her door, and his heart gave a little leap in his chest. Now or never, he thought.
"Josslyn," he said halting her movement to open the door. She turned to him, her posture showing that she was at ease, but her eyes gave her away-her eyes were expectant, waiting on edge for something. "Care to go riding with me tomorrow?" he said quickly.
"I would like that very much," she said, her smile the happiest he'd seen. His heart leapt again, part of him wishing she would smile like this all the time, the other part wishing that she'd only smile like this for him. He bid her goodnight, and wheeled around speeding down the slanted halls of Winterfell. He had an idea.
~x~