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A Tale of Magic and Monsters and Lords
Chapter 9. A Lost Flower Found
Storm
"Hello Ashlin Rose..."
The Lady in Red, with hair of red, speaks to me over the flames of a fire pit. She holds her hands close and the flames jump up to lick her fingertips; she doesn't even flinch. I get the feeling fire is nothing to this woman. She holds a secret in the curve of her smirk, and in her smoldering amber eyes.
"I've been waiting for you."
I don't think I like her.
I fold my arms across my chest and slouch, giving her the usual teenage attitude that I would give a teacher I didn't like or Mark, if he were being particularly jerky towards me. "Have you? Hm, you're not the only one. Seems I'm a popular person here in good ole Westeros."
"Yes, you are clever, aren't you?" The Lady in Red narrows her eyes even further, staring at me now through slits as she warns, "But you'll not speak to me that way." She circles the fire pit slowly until she is standing to my right. "Look into the fire, Ashlin Rose."
"Why?" I ask defiantly. This is the second time someone has referred to me as 'Ashlin Rose'; could I really be her? "Why should I look in the fire? Why have you been waiting for me?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?" The Lady in Red counters, placing a hand on my back and pushing me forward, closer to the fire's heat. "If you look, you will have all the answers you seek."
I don't trust her. My heart is hammering against my ribcage. I want to wake up!
"No." I reply as firmly as possible. "Now let go of me."
The palm on my back curls into a cruel grip on my neck, and my face is forced down into the fire pit. At first, it burns so badly that I shriek from the pain, but then it all fades away and I feel nothing. The orange-red flames dance across my eyelids before blurring into a different scene entirely.
Two little girls are dancing, one dressed in green and the other in red; both have long hair braided around their heads. They hold hands, spinning in circles, their tiny feet moving quickly across the stone floor. They erupt in a fit of giggles before the smaller of the two promptly disappears, leaving nothing but the echo of laughter, like the tinkling of a bell, lingering in the room that has suddenly filled with shadows.
The girl in green screams, her face filled with terror. She cries out for her momma and her daddy as the shadows swirl around her, growing in size and creeping ever closer. She wraps her arms around herself as she screams and screams, and the name that she calls finally reaches my ears.
"Ashlin! Ashlin! Ashlin!"
The shadows move in more, swooping lower and lower, and finally they surround the little girl and all that I can see are black clouds swirling about the room.
The scene before my eyes changes.
Now, I am outside of a castle, in the wake of a battle that did not end so well for those waving banners of golden flowers, all of them soaked in blood. The bodies of the fallen guards are beaten and broken, so mutilated that I can feel bile rising in the back of my throat. These people were mercilessly killed, they never stood a chance. In the middle of it all, stands the Red Lady. She has a cloak of red hanging over her head, shadowing her face in darkness, but I know it is her.
She holds a torch in her right hand, and holds it up high as she calls out, "Adelina, do you see now?! Do you see the power He has given me? He has sent me to finish what you could not! Our Lord is disappointed in you!"
She waits, her hooded face turned in the direction of the giant castle doors, almost like she already knows what will happen.
A moment later, the doors are pushed open, and a beautiful woman dressed in gold steps out into the twilight air. Her gown is so ethereal; off-the-shoulder sleeves that are sheer and flow to her wrists, a deep v-neck showing off the swell of her breasts, and the train flowing behind her made of shiny silk. The woman herself is a beautiful creature, with her long auburn hair that shines bright in the fire-light, her creamy white skin, and her face which is solemn and sculpted like an angel's. She observes her fallen men with sorrow-filled eyes, and then turns them accusingly to the Lady in Red.
"What have you done, Melisandre?" The beautiful woman speaks, her voice quiet, but her words powerful, "The lives of these men were innocent. The Lord did not order you to commit this hateful crime. It was done by your hands alone! All this death is for naught...You won't find her here. I have sent her far away; somewhere so far that not even you and your Lord of Light can find her! She is safe, and she will remain there until you are nothing but ash and dust floating in the wind." Her eyes remain dark and almost haunted, but her mouth smiles; a bitter and cynical smile that does not look right on her face.
"Foolish girl," Lady in Red murmurs, a wicked smile on her own lips, "You can't think it was only her that I wanted. No..." She shakes her head, a laugh emerging from deep in her throat; a cackle.
The beautiful Adelina's eyes go wide as Melisandre flicks her torch in her direction. The flame twirls through the air before landing at Adelina's feet. Then, it erupts into a giant inferno, the fire roaring as it swells to new heights. Adelina is swallowed by the flames, her agonizing screams the only indication that she still stands within the walls of fire. She runs forward, trying to escape, but her body glows red like the hot, hot coals of a long burning fireplace. Still, she runs towards Melisandre, while the Red Lady lowers her hood, revealing an old and decrepit face, like that of a witch in a fairy tale. Adelina's body begins to break down, sparks and ashes flying through the air, and then she collapses into a pile of ash and dust, as she said would be Melisandre's fate. The last of a scream rings out into the silent night, seeming like a whisper of a ghost.
Melisandre approaches the ashes that once were a beautiful lady and picks them up with her bare hands, spreading the remains over her head, face, and body. She smiles, her face blackened with ash, and actually laughs a bit. Her face begins to shift and change, and soon she doesn't look like an old lady anymore, but young and beautiful. The life she stole...returned life to her.
With a start, I am pulled from the fire pit and returned to the Red Lady's lair.
"So you see," She breathes directly into my ear from behind my back, "I have been waiting a long time for your arrival, Ashlin Rose, and now I will have you. Even your mother couldn't stop me. No one can. I am a Priestess of the Lord of Light, and only He controls my power. The time is coming...Your light will be mine."
When I open my eyes for the second time, I am blinking in the darkness, and I know I'm awake now because I can hear the sound of Sam snoring loudly nearby. I can feel a scream rising in the back of my throat, trying to break free, but I swallow it down. I don't want to wake the boys. They'll come running to see what has happened but see nothing. How can I explain what I saw, what I dreamt, what I felt? I know that the Lady in Red, Melisandre, is real; a living, breathing threat who walks this realm somewhere, maybe really close by. She is filled with a dark magic, despite her claims for working for a lord of light - there is nothing but darkness inside her. I don't ever want to meet her outside of my dreams.
But I could. I might. What if she finds me? What if I really am Ashlin Rose, and that really was my sister, and Melisandre did kill my beautiful mother? What if it's all true? What'll I do?
A sob escapes my throat and I turn my face into my pillow so I may cry freely. All of this is beginning to be too much to bear. I am so confused and I feel so lost and alone. I want to go home, but now I'm not sure where my home even is.
From just outside the tied flaps of my tent, I think I can hear Ghost whining. I sit up, sniffling, and listen harder. He whines again, and so I reach for the string and begin to un-knot one side of flap that is keeping the cold night air from flowing through my tent. As my fingers finally loosen it enough to peek out into the night, I hear Jon's voice and pause.
"Storm?" He whispers loudly, "Are you all right?"
Immediately, my mind flashes back to the strange vision I received when I touched his arm yesterday morning, and I feel heat rushing to my cheeks. I press my hands to my blushing cheeks and wipe the tears away as I will my racing heart to slow down. It was only a fleeting glimpse, an incomplete picture, of a moment that has never happened between us, but I can't seem to forget the way it made me feel like my knees had turned to jelly and my heart to mush. It hasn't happened, won't happen, but part of me wants it to happen.
"Storm..."
My fingers reach again for the string and I untie the last bit before the wind blows the flap outwards, revealing Jon and his dire wolf crouching outside my tent. My eyes look to Jon, who must have been sleeping but now looks alert, and his intense stare causes my breath to get stuck in my throat. The way he looks, right now; partly-concerned, partly-on edge, hugely un-sure of himself, and one-hundred percent hot. He looks like he did in my vision, right before he kissed me, right before he un-dressed me, and right before we...
"Storm," Jon says my name a third time, sounding slightly annoyed at this point, "What happened? I heard you cry out. Ghost nearly tore a hole in my tent trying to get out here."
My cheeks are on fire now. Does he know? Does he know that I saw us having sex in a vision? No. He doesn't know, he can't know. But I do, and it is making it so hard to look him in the eyes. I didn't feel this way around him before, but now being near Jon feels like I'm fighting a magnetic attraction. I want to be close to him, want him close to me, but I don't know why.
"I'm fine," I reply, my voice sounding weak and hollow, even to my ears, "Really. It was nothing." My voice cracks, giving away my true emotions.
Then, I realize what this is, what I'm feeling for Jon: its lust, the evil twin of love. Now that I've identified it though, I can fight off the feeling. Sure, I saw a glimpse of Jon and I hooking up, but that's all it was. It wasn't a memory, and it certainly wasn't a fore-see into the future. It was just a side-effect of lusting for someone who needs my help, not my misguided feelings. I need to brush them under the rug and focus on what is really important, and that is getting to Jon's family and stopping a war before it is started.
"I had a bad dream," I admit after receiving a disbelieving look from Jon.
Jon is quiet for a brief moment. Then he offers, "Do you want to talk about it?"
I nod, silently pulling open the flap of the tent wide enough for both Ghost and he to enter. Ghost noses my hand until I scratch him behind the ears, and then he settles himself at my side, almost like he senses my fear. Jon lingers awkwardly near the entrance of my tent until I pat the spot beside me and motion for him to sit down. I guess it probably isn't proper for a young man to enter a young lady's sleeping quarters un-attended at this time, but I'm not worried about anything happening. Jon wouldn't do that. Another image of his skin on mine flashes across my eyes and I blink hard, willing it away. Yes, it could happen, but it isn't going to. I won't let us get distracted.
"What did you dream about?" Jon wonders after I don't begin talking right away. "Was it my father?"
"No," I reply, unable to look him in the eyes because I had gone to sleep hoping to dream about his father, hoping to see for myself that he is still all right and this journey is not for nothing. "I – uh – I actually think I dreamt about my family." The moment the words leave my lips and I see Jon's doubtful expression, I start to doubt myself too. How could my family be from Westeros when I've lived my entire life in another world? I'm from Chicago! My mother can't be the lovely Adelina who lived in a castle and died at the hands of a red witch. It doesn't make sense…
"What do you mean?" Jon finally queries.
I take a deep breath, deciding at the same time that I have to believe my dreams, because otherwise I've led Jon away from Castle Black on a wild goose chase. My dreams have showed me things, things that were proven correct by Maester Aemon and by Jon himself. I have seen things, and now I've seen more, and just because it is getting harder to believe what I'm seeing doesn't make it any less true.
I look to Jon for the first time while I explain, "I think maybe I was born here. Not here specifically, but here in Westeros. I think I was sent away, for protection, but somehow I returned." Instead of questioning me, Jon sits quietly and waits for me to continue. Ghost is also patiently waiting for me to finish my story. "I've been having dreams about this girl named Mariene, and she claims to be my sister. She calls me Ashlin – Ashlin Rose Tyrell. She says that I was lost but now I've returned. There was something she said about dragons being born in the winter and magic returning to the realm. I know it doesn't make sense, but…I think I believe her."
"You're trying to say," Jon says slowly, a frown creasing his brow, "that you believe you were born of House Tyrell?"
"I don't – " I abruptly stop and sigh, "Yes. I guess that's what I'm saying."
Instead of calling me crazy, Jon asks, "What else did you dream about?"
I refocus on last night's dream and tell Jon everything, starting at the beginning. I don't leave out a single detail of Melisandre and her threat. After all is said, I conclude, "She sent me that dream, Jon. She wants me to know that she knows I'm back. She wants me to know that she's looking for me." I shudder involuntarily and Ghost whines before placing his giant head in my lap. "I don't want her to find me."
"She won't," Jon says confidently, and I stare at him through the dark with doubtful eyes. "I promised Aemon I would keep you safe, and I intend on keeping my word. When we get to Winterfell, you will have the Starks' protection. My family won't let anyone hurt you." After a pause, he continues, "And if it's true that you're a Tyrell, then you'll have your family's protection once you return to them. House Tyrell is one of the richest and most powerful families in Westeros."
"But she's a witch," I argue, "She has powers, not just any powers, but dark magic. Where I come from, there is no such thing, but I know that it's the most powerful kind." Well, I know this from movies and TV shows and books. It makes sense, though, that dark magic would be stronger since it is coming from someplace evil. Melisandre was definitely evil. "No matter where I hide, she'll find me."
Jon grabs my hand, surprising me completely, and holds it tightly in his as he reiterates, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-
Three days after declaring he'll keep me safe, Jon's word is put to the test. It is our fourth day of the journey, and we were just setting up camp for the night when trouble came our way. Sam and Pyp were gathering wood for a fire, while Jon and I put together the tents. Ghost had gone off to hunt a while ago and still hadn't returned. It has become a routine by now, setting up camp at night and breaking it down in the morning, but it is my least favorite part of the day. I finally burned off the fever I arrived with a day or two ago, and the cold has caught up with me; it is freezing! I guess the magic that transported me protected me from the cold for about a week, but now it has faded and I am left to fend for myself. Jon has had a few chuckles at my expense for finally realizing how truly cold the North is.
"Is it this cold in Winterfell too?" I stuttered out through chattering teeth, "I d-d-don't know why anyone would want to live in these sub-artic temperatures."
"It is warmer in Winterfell," Jon replied in a teasing tone, "But not by much. Of course, there are fireplaces in every room and – "
Jon was cut off by a yell, at this point, and both of us stiffened up as we recognized it as Sam's voice. My eyes widened and I immediately wondered how the red witch had found me already. Sam yelled again, sounding a bit closer, and Jon roughly shoved me inside the partially put together tent, ordering me to "stay put" while he ran off. I listened for about ten seconds before running after Jon. I wasn't going to let him and Sam and Pyp get killed because of me!
It was easy following in Jon's footsteps since he left large tracks in the snow, and because he told me to stay behind he wasn't looking back for me. I guess he doesn't really know me very well yet; I hardly ever listen to a direct order. It must be the rebel in me. Anyways, I was also lucky to have a little bit of light on my side since the sun had only just set and the twilight sky was bright still. I sprinted after Jon, both of us hurrying to Sam's aid. Sam was whimpering now, and Pyp was yelling at him not to cry.
A third voice joined, an unknown man's, and he had a very thick accent, "Leave the fat one be, yeh? 'E wants 'is Mawma."
"He can cry all he wants," Another stranger began to speak, "If he gives us the food and the sword from his pack. Hand it over."
Oh my God, I finally realized: Sam and Pyp were being robbed!
Jon reached them first, of course, and I could hear as well as see him draw his own sword from its hold in his belt. Then, he calmly ordered the strangers, "Let them go."
"Another one?" The stranger with the lesser accent, who seemed to be the leader, groaned, "You were supposed to scout the area!"
"I though' it were jus' these two!" His idiot side-kick responded.
I was creeping up on them now, slowly inching my way forward, ducking from tree to tree, until I was close enough to Sam to reach out and grab him…And I would have, too, if there weren't a very dirty man with a crooked dagger standing behind a kneeling Samwell Tarly. Poor Sam. He was simply blubbering away, thinking his life were about to come to an end. I could feel my blood boiling. It would be my fault if anything happened to Sam – to any of them.
"P-please," Sam held up his arms, "Take whatever you want. I don't have much. I don't need it. Just take it and go. Go on."
"Sam!" Pyp chided, also kneeling on the ground with a dirty man at his back. If they were holding guns and not rather dull-looking daggers, I'd think Pyp and Sam were about to go out execution style, but after watching so many action and horror movies I felt I could take these guys on. "Put your hands down! We're not giving these wildlings a single crumb! We're men of the Night's Watch!"
"Don't look like crows to me," The leader commented, kicking Sam in the back and causing him to pitch forward into the snow.
Without even thinking too much about it, I leapt out from behind the tree and grabbed the man while he was distracted. I threw my arms around his shoulders and forced his arms down to his side, holding them there as tightly as possible. Before he can attempt to over-power me, which he could probably do easily since he's at least four inches taller and close to a hundred pounds heavier, I have knocked us both to the ground and kicked the dagger from his hand. I wrapped my legs around his body, like a snake, and moved my arms up around his throat. Once my hands were linked, I pressured against his neck, holding him firmly in the hold that Trey told me I'm best at: the rear naked choke. This would be the point where the fighter would tap out, if this were a mixed martial arts match, but it isn't.
I straightened up my neck and looked at Jon, whose dark eyes were wide with what I thought was shock and awe at my awesome skills. When the cold sting of the dagger pressed to my throat I realized I was wrong. He was surprised by me and my actions – too surprised to warn me of the enemy at my back.
"Let him go, girly," A third stranger breathed into my ear, pushing the dagger closer to my skin, "Or I'll slice your pretty head off."
I think about squeezing tighter instead; literally cutting off all air supply to this asshole's lungs and watching him turn blue. I couldn't do it, though. I can't be a killer. So I released him. I dropped my arms in defeat.
The man I attacked gasps for air while his buddy yanks me to my feet. My ears are ringing and my heart is pounding with adrenaline. I'm going to die, I think. I'm going to die right here, right now.
Then, the sweetest sound reaches my ears through the ringing: the growl of a dire wolf.
Everything happened so quickly after that. Ghost lunged for the man I had choked and ripped his throat from his body. The other stranger, the one who had been holding a knife to Pyp's throat, screamed like a baby and ran terrified into the woods only to have Ghost chase after him. I'm not positive, but I think from the screams, he's dead too. The third man, the one at my back, takes a sword to the belly – Jon's sword. In minutes, the snow is splattered with blood and all is silent except for the sound of heavy breathing.
I am the first to react. I walk to Sam and hold out my hands, helping him to his feet. "Are you okay?" I ask him, brow furrowed in concern.
"Are you mad?!" Jon practically screams, "I told you to stay put! Don't you listen? You could have been killed!"
I am so astounded by his outburst that I don't know what to say. Luckily, our other two companions have plenty.
"Don't yell at her, Jon," Sam says quietly, "She only wanted to help. She did save my life."
"Yeah," Pyp agrees, "Storm was great! What was that thing you did to knock him down? I've never seen anyone do that before."
I'd like to smile smugly and tell them all about Trey's goal of becoming a mixed martial artist and how being his girlfriend had a few perks, such as being taught a few handy self-defense moves. Trey wanted me to feel safe walking the streets of Chicago by myself, if I had to, so he made sure I knew a few moves. The rear naked choke was my best, though, but I never had to put it to use before today. I was pretty proud of myself, too, before that asshole put the knife to my throat.
I reach up and press two fingers to my neck, wincing at the stinging sensation when my fingers touch. I pull them away and see that there is blood. I can't exactly brag about my skills now. I did almost get myself killed. And I understand why Jon is upset. He killed a man for me. I wonder if he's ever killed someone before.
"It was nothing," I finally reply to Sam and Pyp, "It was stupid. I didn't want to see either of you get hurt, so I did the first thing I could think of. Jon is right, though. I could have gotten us all killed."
"But you didn't," Sam points out, ever the optimist.
"No," I confirm, "But that wasn't because of me. That was because Ghost showed up at the right time, and because Jon knows how to use a sword. If I had listened, Jon would have saved you both without my help."
"Still," Pyp adds, "That was an impressive hold. Would you show me how to do it?"
I guess it couldn't hurt. I shrug, "All right. Tomorrow. I'll show you how to do a rear-naked choke."
"Rear…naked choke?" Pyp repeats. I nod and he smiles, saying it one more time, "Rear naked choke."
I quicken my pace to catch up with Jon as we walk back to our partially set-up camp. I don't like that he's mad at me. He won't look at me and he doesn't say a word. I sigh loudly and pass him, going directly to my tent and finishing it by myself. I go straight inside and sit down in the center of the tent, legs folded underneath me, Indian style. It doesn't last long, though. I find that I am a bundle of nerves, too frazzled to sit still. I exit the tent again and watch as Ghost saunters into camp. His white coat is stained red from his muzzle all the way down to his huge front paws. He sees me and starts bounding over, like an over-excited puppy. He attempts to lick my hand but I yank it away and tell him loudly, 'No!'
Ghost whines and lies down in the snow, putting his head on his paws and looking up at me in a submissive fashion. He thinks I'm mad at him. I tell him to stay while I soak a cloth in water and when I return, I start washing the blood off his fur. He obediently sits still while I wash him, and then I dry him with a different cloth. Finally, I stick my hand out in front of his nose and let him lick me.
"Good boy," I tell him as I hug him around the neck, "You're a good boy, Ghost."
I see movement out of the corner of my eye and both the dire wolf and I turn towards Jon as he approaches. He stops and looks like he might change direction, but I call out his name, "Jon." I watch him release a sigh as he comes over. He's still mad at me for not listening to him. "I'm sorry. About what happened before? I should have listened to you." He doesn't say anything. "Thank you," I add quietly but sincerely, "For keeping your promise. You saved me."
Jon nods. I stand up to tell him goodnight, and he catches me by surprise when he steps closer and pulls me against him. "I always keep my word." I hug him back, feeling safe in his arms, and when he says, "Goodnight, Storm," and steps away, I feel cold without him there.
"Goodnight, Jon," I reply, wrapping myself tighter in my furs. I crawl into my tent once more, this time settling for the night. The last thing that crosses my mind before I fall asleep is how nice it would be to fall asleep with Jon beside me, in his arms.
Next chapter will be in Mari's POV! Please Review!
-MissCarolineForbes