ChaCha here! So I've been on a roll lately. I love updating everyday. So just a reminder, I don't own anything, and I hope you enjoy!
~x~
Josslyn had to hold in a girlish squeal when she closed the door behind her. Don't get ahead of yourself, she thought. He may be just being polite. She silently hoped that he wasn't just being polite. She'd noticed the way that he'd been looking at her, but she'd be damned if he wasn't hard to read. Even her time at court, mincing words and trying to read into other peoples intentions, hadn't prepared her for the taciturn Lord Stark.
She chastised herself for not playing how she felt closer to the chest. All he had to do was look at her and she blushed, but he was stoic and so hard for her to read. She heard wolves howling outside, and went to the window. The three giant dire wolves of the Starks sat in the court yard, howling at the full moon. For a moment, in her glee she was greatly tempted to join in. She unlaced her gown and donned a woolen sleeping gown and crawled into bed listening to the strangely comforting song of the wolves, and was soon fast asleep.
When she woke the next morning, Josslyn could see that it was well after dawn, a fresh blanket of snow covering the castle. Quickly, she donned a warm grey woolen gown, brushed her hair, braiding it haphazardly, and dashed down the halls to the hall where everyone would be gathered for the meal. She looked around quickly but saw no sign of Bran at all, Sansa, Sandor, Arya and Gendry were still in the hall. She smiled brightly at the group to mask her disappointment, but Gendry's eyes seemed to see through it and he stared at her with no attempt at hiding his surprise.
"You slept well I trust?" Sansa smiled as Josslyn sat down.
"Yes," she laughed. "Thank you." Josslyn was pleased, only yesterday the red head was glaring daggers at her when she thought that no one was looking.
"The blasted wolves didn't keep you up?" Sandor asked with a bitter laugh.
"Not at all," Josslyn shook her head. "I found the howling rather pleasant actually." Arya and Sansa exchanged meaningful glances at one another, but Josslyn wasn't sure why. Why should enjoying a wolves song be so strange? she asked herself.
She ate with them, chatting politely with the Stark girls who seemed to be looking at her with renewed interest. "Where's Bran?" Gendry asked out of nowhere, but he stared at Josslyn, and she knew he could see the blush creep over her face when he said his brother in laws name.
"Who knows," Arya shrugged. "Tommen said he was up most of the night, working on something." Josslyn made note of this, and as soon as she had eaten she set out to find her cousin. Eventually she found him in the rookery, tending to the ravens who carried Winterfell's letters.
"You'll get nothing out of me cousin," Tommen said with a knowing smirk.
"So you do know what's going on?" Josslyn said flopping down in a chair. She glowered at her cousin, making no pretence to keep up the proper lady act. Tommen just laughed at her.
"Have you eaten yet?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes," Josslyn said, confused at the change of topic. "Why?"
Tommen shrugged. "I know that ladies in love often forget simple things." She picked up a quill and threw it at her cousin, who just laughed. She thought back to Gendry's odd look over breakfast, and realized that he knew too.
"How did you know?" she asked quietly. Tommen just smiled, but didn't answer. He went about feeding the ravens who would occasionally break the silence by cawing or screeching.
"You two would suit each other I think," Tommen smiled. "It may also do much to heal some wounds long since inflicted." Josslyn bit her lip, she'd heard all the stories. She knew that it was her own kin responsible for the fall that crippled Bran, for the death of his father, for Sansa's imprisonment in the Red Keep. She had hoped to prove that not all Lannisters were the same, and she felt that she had done that, but would Bran reject her because of who she was? She didn't think so, but the horrible idea still gnawed at her killing the excitement that had fueled her all morning.
She changed for her ride with Bran. The day had warmed enough to melt the snow that had fallen in the night and the wool gown was now too warm. She climbed in the saddle of her dappled grey gelding, Fog, and waited as Bran was lifted into his own saddle. He looked over at her, as he was buckling his legs into the saddle, another one of her uncles innovations, and she smiled brightly.
"You ready?" he asked playfully.
"Just try to keep up," she replied. Her horse shot forward at the touch of her heals and through the gates of Winterfell to the wilderness beyond. Josslyn heard the thundering of hooves close behind her, and knew that Bran was close on her heels. She turned her head around too see Bran, laughing hard, taking her momentary distraction to speed past her. She muttered a curse under her breath and urged her horse faster.
Bran slowed to a trot, leading his horse up a small hill to a game trail, Josslyn followed suit and when she drew up beside him, he slowed to a walk. She turned her head, and stopped her grey horse in his tracks. Spread out before her were the rolling green hills of the North. She could make out a village half a league from the hill she stood on, smoke curling lazily from the chimneys. The sky was a grayish blue dotted with the occasional cloud. A wind swept from the west, blowing her loosely braided hair over a shoulder, and she closed her eyes drinking deep of the peaceful moment. "So what to you think of the North?" she turned to see that Bran had stopped behind her and was watching her closely.
"It's beautiful," she said turning back to the view. "A sort of wild beauty, that you don't really see in the south."
"You're right," he said "You don't get this kind of beauty in the south." Something in his voice made her think that he wasn't talking about the view, but when she turned his eyes were focused on the landscape before them. Her heart sank a little. I'd hoped he was talking about me, she thought, and then chastised herself. "Come on," he said and with a soft command he urged his horse forward.
They rode for almost two hours, all the while Bran pointed out different places. The ruins of an old mill, the hill where some ancient battle had taken place between the First Men and the Children of the Forrest, the spot not far from where they rode where the queen had first landed in the North with her dragons.
"It's nearly midday," Josslyn said looking at the sun in the sky. "Shouldn't we head back?"
"Just a little farther," Bran smirked. Josslyn desperately wanted to know what was going on, but thought better than to ask. He likely wouldn't tell me anyhow, she thought shaking her head with a smile. She rather liked it when this side of Bran came out. Not Bran the Lord, or Bran the Brother, but something entirely different, it was spontaneous, warm and surprisingly relaxed. He lead her to a tall oak tree, and she saw that beneath it had been laid a blanket and a spread of cold meats and cheeses for lunch, a large squire stood at attention by the tree to help Bran from his horse.
"You did all this?" Josslyn could scarcely believe her eyes.
"I had some help," Bran laughed. The squire lifted Bran from his saddle and sat him leaned against the large tree, before disappearing. She sat down beside him, noticing that she might have sat too close, since Bran stiffened slightly. She looked over their feast, and noticed a small bowl of what appeared to be dried fruit in the middle of the blanket. She leaned over taking one in her hand, and instantly recognized it.
"Is this a dried peach?" she said incredulously. Bran nodded and laughed. "I love peaches."
"I know," Bran's eyes burned into hers.
"How?" Josslyn scowled playfully.
"I asked Tommen what your favorite was."
"That's cheating," Josslyn smiled as she popped the dried peach in her mouth. "They're sweeter dried." Bran laughed again and he watched her make a plate for him before serving herself. They ate and laughed and talked and laughed some more. Josslyn said a prayer to any god, old or new, not to let this day end. She'd never enjoyed herself so much before. She lay back on the soft grass and stared at the sky filtered though the leaves on the tree.
"Did you enjoy today?" she heard Bran ask off to her right. She closed her eyes and smiled.
"It could have been better," she answered teasing. She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. She noticed a shadow pass over her, and her eyes shot open, to see Bran's face hovering over her, his weight fully supported by his thick arms.
"Could have been better, huh?" he asked a sly smile on his lips that were only a breath away from hers, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"Yes," she said her voice betraying none of the nervousness in her stomach. "Could have been better." Bran chuckled his warm breath tickling her lips. Nervously, she licked her lips, and noticed how his eyes were drawn to her lips at the small movement. The world seemed to stop, nothing existed outside this moment when his lips came down gently upon hers. Josslyn was stunned for a moment, but then returned the kiss, reveling in the feeling of his lips on hers. He brought one had up to cup her cheek gently. She panicked, not knowing what to do with her hands, but settled on wrapping them gently around his neck.
She heard the thunder of hooves coming nearer, and Bran pulled away from her with a curse, pushing himself back up and leaning against the tree. Josslyn shot up as if out of a trance, and began to straighten her hair, and dress. Her heart was racing from the kiss, and she knew that a deep blush was coving her face, and stood to await the riders. What she hadn't counted on was Bran taking her hand and brushing light kisses on her knuckles. She looked at him, startled and saw his coy smile, and she was sure that her heart stopped beating all together.
As the riders drew closer, Josslyn could make out the dire wolf sigil on the banners. "They're from Winterfell," she said noticing that he was still holding her hand.
"Help me up," Bran said with a frown. Josslyn looked at him confused. "If you can help me get my feet under me, and help keep my balance I can stand. I'd rather meet them standing." Josslyn nodded, crouched down, and Bran threw his arm around her shoulders. Standing required more effort on her part than she had thought, he was so much heavier than she looked. But between her and the tree they were able to get Bran on his feet, but his arm remained around her shoulders for balance. For the first time since they met, she looked up at him, and saw that he was very tall indeed. As if almost on instinct he pulled her tighter to him as the riders approached, his grip firm on her shoulder.
"Lord Stark," one of the men said when they'd reined in their horses. "Some travelers came to Winterfell begging sanctuary. A large band of thieves beset them on the road."
"Evan," Bran called and his squire seemed to appear from no where and took his weight from her shoulders, lifting him in to the saddle. She darted to her own horse, and deftly climbed into the saddle. "You can ride behind, if you want," Bran said concerned. "You don't have to keep pace, some of the men will stay with you." She heard the eager volunteers, but simply scowled at Bran, who burst out laughing. The riders seemed confused, until she yanked on the reins of Fog, causing him to rear back, Josslyn kept her seat and as his hooves touched the ground she flew back in the direction of Winterfell.
Most of the men had a hard time keeping the pace she set, but Bran galloped along side her as if it was nothing. The hours it took to traverse to the hill that morning flew by much faster, and before she knew it, Josslyn was riding side by side with Bran into the castle. She leapt from the saddle, and a stable boy came to take the horse from her, but Fog snapped at him, his ears laying flat on his head. Joss jerked the horses head by the reins so that one of his black eyes was staring at her, "Easy," she said firmly. The grey house whinnied in protest, but Josslyn put a hand on his cheek, soothing him. She handed the reins back to the boy who looked at them as if they might bite, but he took them and lead the horses away.
"Is there anything you can't do?" Bran asked from his chair. He stared at her in wonder, as if she'd done something impressive.
"Sewing," she replied honestly. Bran stifled a laugh as they made their way to the great hall. "Really, give me a pair of you breeches to mend, and I guarantee they'll look worse than they did before." Bran covered his laughter with a cough as the pair entered the hall. She watched as his posture became straighter, and his face became fiercer. She called him Bran the Lord, at times when he looked like this. She'd only seen it the first day she'd arrived in Winterfell, but it was as if he was channeling all the old kings of the north. He was suddenly stern, and methodical, not at all the carefree man who'd kissed her under the shade of the oak tree.
Josslyn stood off the left in the hall with Tommen, as Bran made his way to the dais alone. When he was settled, the great dire wolf Summer came trotting over and settled next to his master. The men were ushered in and they told Bran their story. They were on their way to the Wall when a group of about thirty thieves attacked them from nowhere. In the end the thieves had made off with their food, wine and whatever meager possessions the men had, but not before they had killed fifteen of the men who were traveling with them.
Bran sat and listened stone faced, not betraying any of his thoughts. In the end he'd dispatched some of his men to help them on the rest of their journey, but invited them to remain in Winterfell to tend their wounded and rest. The men were very appreciative and promised to repay the favor some how. Bran insisted that it was not necessary but the men would not listen. When they had left, Bran called Tommen forward.
"Send Jon a raven, let him know what happened," Bran frowned. "Let him know that he may want to send heavier guards with anyone traveling north until we've dealt with this problem. Then if you could seen to the wounded men. Also send birds to any keeps along the King's Road, have the lords send out armed patrols to ensure that this doesn't happen again."
"Of course my lord," Tommen bowed and left to send the ravens. Josslyn watched as Bran seemed to absentmindedly scratched Summer behind his ears as he called in several more people, asking that the new men be given rooms, fed and even ordered a party of forty of his own garrison to ride out at first light to see if they could flush the thieves out of hiding.
Dinner that night was a much more solemn affair. The adults were all talking about the attack on the men, so Josslyn distracted the children by telling them stories. She had just finished a particularly funny story about a giantess taking a wildling to breast, thinking it was her child, when the children were sent to bed. The all groaned in displeasure.
"Are you staying for Uncle Bran's name day?" little Robb asked her and she shot a look at Bran who flushed slightly. He never mentioned his name day, she thought.
"If your uncle would like me to," Josslyn said tussling his hair, the same way her own brother had when she was little. The children instantly turned to Bran with pleading eyes. Arya and Sansa even joined in telling Bran to let her stay.
"You're not in any hurry to get rid of your cousin, are you Tommen?" Bran asked teasingly.
"Well," Tommen said attempting to be serious, but was failing miserably, "I really would rather see the back of her," all the children protested, "But I suppose a few more days won't hurt anyone." The children cheered, jumping on Josslyn, tugging at her dress sleeves. It took Sandor's great booming yell to restore some semblance of order.
"You heard your mothers," he said sternly and pointed. All the children sagged and left. Josslyn started coughing to keep from laughing, but Sandor shot her a withering glare none the less. Arya joined in with a coughing fit of her own and she noticed Sansa smiling brightly.
"If you weren't a highborn lady," Sansa said sweetly, taking a small sip from her cup, "I might hire you as their nurse."
"You'd have to fight me for that," Arya said a twinkle in her eyes. Even Sandor laughed this time, lightening the dark mood around the table that talk of the thieves had brought. Josslyn stole a glance at Bran as he laughed, and decided that she liked the way he looked when he did. He seems so at ease, she thought with a small smile, she also noticed that Gendry and Sandor were watching her closely and she quickly moved her gaze.
When she left the table, Bran escorted her to her room again. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she walked in silence not knowing what to say. "I don't understand how such a large group could have formed with out anyone noticing," Bran said quietly.
"The North has many nooks and crannies," Josslyn sighed. "It doesn't really surprise me that they've gathered unnoticed." Josslyn was sad to see that they had already reached her door. She turned to look at Bran who seemed to be deep in thought. She smiled slightly at the sight of his brow wrinkled in thought. "Goodnight Bran," she said and turned to open the door, when a hand caught hers and pulled her down. She found herself perched on Bran's lap, his hands pulling her close, his lips placed on her own for the second time that day.
She leaned in to the kiss, her fingers burying themselves instinctively in his short dark hair. He groaned into her mouth sending shivers of pleasure down her spine and coiling between her legs. He caressed her waist and the hand around her neck began making it's way down her back. A whimper escaped unbidden from her mouth. He pulled her in to his hard chest, and his lips left hers making their way to her neck, where he nipped the sensitive skin lightly and then soothed it with a kiss. Josslyn didn't know what to do with herself, no one had ever kissed her like this before, no one had ever made her feel like this.
Just as suddenly started, Bran pulled his lips away from her, breathing heavily, and looked at her with burning hungry eyes. Josslyn shivered at the look in his eyes, but never looked away from him. He leaned in again and pressed her lips in a chaste kiss, "Goodnight Josslyn," he whispered heavily. She rose from his lap, her lips burning from the kisses, and walked in her open door, sparing one last look at Brandon Stark, before closing it behind her.
When the door was closed, she leaned against it running a finger over her sensitive lips. Then she realized that her door had been wide open. She looked panicked around her room and found Bran's enormous dire wolf, Summer, laying sprawled on her bed. Summer raised his head and looked at her, sniffing the air as he did. Josslyn moved slowly and opened the door behind her. She had heard that the dire wolves that followed the Starks didn't care for anyone save their masters. With the door open, Summer raised his lips in a snarl and jumped silently off the bed, moving closer towards her.
Josslyn tried to quell her fear as the wolf grew closer. Dogs she knew how to handle, but Summer was something else entirely. She stood there, trying not to let her fear overwhelm her, as Summer took his massive snout, and pushed the door behind her closed. He then turned to her with sad eyes and nuzzled her hand affectionately. Josslyn laughed, which seemed to startle the wolf for an instant, before he silently padded back over to her bed and curled up once more.
Josslyn eyed the wolf nervously as she changed and climbed into bed, but the dire wolf simply placed his head on her stomach and made a contented growling sound, before he fell asleep. Josslyn lay on her back, almost frightened to move, until she realized the wolf meant her no harm, and she placed a shaking hand on his head and rubbed his ears the same way she had seen Bran do, until she fell asleep, with Summer to keep the cold at bay.