Hopefully 2 chapters in one day will help make up for my long absence ;) Welcome new followers, and thanks for joining! Also, thanks to those of you who reviewed, each and every one inspires!

Here's the next chapter, in both Jon & Storm's POVs. I hope you like it.

WARNING: Storm has a big potty mouth this chapter and drops a few f-bombs. I'm on the fence about whether I should change the rating of the story from T to M due to her foul language. I 'll leave it T for now, but just be warned that it is most likely going to make that switch to M pretty soon. I'll give you another little warning when the rating changes.

A Tale of Magic and Monsters and Lords

Chapter 11. Not A Lady

Jon

After the night the wildlings attacked Sam and Pyp, Storm began heeding my advice, which made the next few days of traveling easier for us all. We're now half-way through our journey to Winterfell, and we've not encountered another threat, though I expect danger to be around every corner. Uncle Benjen warned me on the ride up to the Wall to never let my guard down, and his guidance hasn't disappointed me yet. I hope Benjen is alright. Before I left the Wall, he'd gone patrolling beyond it, and he hadn't returned. He's going to wonder where I've gone when he does finally return with the other Rangers. He may even disapprove of my decision to leave, but when I am back, I will explain everything to him, and he'll have to understand. I left for father, to help keep him alive, and surely Benjen can accept that.

I glance over my shoulder to the girl who led me away from my duty at the Wall, noting that she appears cold and maybe even a little grumpy. She hasn't had any news of my father in days, and if she's dreaming of anything else, she hasn't told me. I still don't understand her, not one bit, but for some reason I do believe her story, and as I've already made a promise to protect her I will keep my word.

Storm catches me looking at her and digs her heels into her horse's sides, urging her mare to speed up so she is closer to my stallion. "How much longer, Jon? This is killing me. I'm freezing. I haven't felt my toes in days. My thighs are aching from riding this horse all day, every day. My stomach hurts. I don't know how much longer I can do it." She pouts, and I don't even know if she realizes she's doing it. I am briefly reminded of Sansa, although Sansa would never have agreed to travel on horseback in the first place; she'd have demanded a carriage.

Ignoring her complaints, I inform her, "We're about half-way there. The more often we stop, the longer it will take."

"I know," Storm grumbles, "You already told me, like, ten times. But I can't help it. I don't want to be on this stupid horse anymore. I don't want to be stuck in the cold for another week or more. I just want to be there already."

"Stupid horse?" I hear Pyp call out in surprise, "What has the horse done to you? I thought you loved her because she's so pretty? I thought you named her Honey?" He teases her with the words she used only days ago to describe the mare she's been riding since we left Castle Black.

"I did name her Honey. And she is pretty," Storm corrects, "But she's hurting my ass, so I don't have to like her right now." Hearing a lady who reminds me of Sansa swear so often still shocks me, but I'm starting to get used to it. Storm is very different from other ladies; in fact, she won't allow us to call her a lady at all. She says she's 'just a girl'.

"Well, maybe you're hurting her back," Pyp points out, still teasing, "Did you ever think of that?"

"I hope you're not calling me fat, Pyp, because I am not afraid to come back there and smack you," Storm warns, her face deadly serious.

Pyp's mouth drops open and he struggles to reply, "O-of course I wasn't. I'd never call a lady fat."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Storm protests, "I am not a lady! You people and your formalities. It's driving me crazy."

"Yeesh," Pyp says to Sam in a quiet, but not nearly quiet enough, tone, "What's her problem today? She's almost as moody as Jon."

Storm whips around in her saddle and glares at both Pyp and Sam, who hasn't even said a word.

"He's not wrong," I tell her, not finding her particularly threatening, even when her narrowed gaze settles on me, "You've been in a mood all day."

"I have not," Storm denies stubbornly, kicking her mare's sides again and trotting in front of me to take the lead. "Stupid boys," I hear her mutter, "Stupid snow. Stupid…" She trails off, apparently unable to think of another stupid thing at the moment.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips, but I don't want to be caught laughing at her, or she'll really become angry with me. I may not have experience with ladies romantically, but I do have two younger sisters, and I know sometimes they get moody for no reason at all. Arya was easier to get along with than Sansa, but she's still young, and I have no doubt she'll grow up and have moody days of her own. I miss those girls. I wonder how they're faring with father in the South. I'd like to ask Storm if she's seen either of my sisters in any of her dreams, but I don't think she feels like talking at the moment.

When the sky begins to darken, I announce it's time to stop and make camp for the night. Storm had been quiet for the rest of the ride; the only sound heard from her was the chattering of her teeth. She is clearly still upset, for whatever reason, because instead of waiting for one of us to help her down from her horse, she attempts to dismount on her own. One of her boots gets caught in the stirrup and she loses her balance, falling back into the snow. Sam steps forward to help, but she yanks her foot out of the stirrup and picks herself up off the ground.

"I'm fine," Storm insists, "I don't need help all the time."

Sam's face falls and he stares at her feet as he replies, "Sorry."

Storm has the decency to appear regretful, but she doesn't apologize for snapping at poor Sam. Instead, she turns around and marches towards the woods, which aren't too far. Pyp and Sam look to me, as if asking if one of us should follow her, but before I can make up my mind, Storm shouts over her shoulder, "Nobody come after me! I mean it!"

Once she's gone, Sam questions, "Was it something that I did?"

"You didn't do anything Sam," I tell him. "Just leave her be. She'll come around."

We start to build a fire and set up the tents while Storm is gone. I have a hard time concentrating since she's not in my sights and therefore I can't confirm or deny if she's in danger, but I know she'll be even more mad if I disobey her and go after her. I decide I'll give her two more minutes before I follow her trail into the woods, because it's been long enough already. Before the two minutes are up though, she is walking back into camp, and she appears even more furious than when she entered the woods.

"Everything all right?" Sam stupidly asks her.

"No," Storm complains, "No, everything is not all right. Everything is just really fricken shitty right now. I don't want to talk about it."

Pyp and Sam look again to me, as if I can control Storm's temperament, but I shrug my shoulders, not wanting the responsibility. What can I do about it? She already said she doesn't want to talk. She'll only get angrier if I push her to speak. I motion for Pyp to hurry with her tent, and once it's put together, she tears open the flap and stomps inside. Once she's tightened the strings of her tent to close the wind out, I hear her expel a growl of frustration.

"Fuck!" She curses loudly, and thank the old gods and the new that she doesn't hear Pyp snort in laughter. "This is…this is just so fucking perfect!" Lowering her voice to a mutter, she continues, "What did I do to deserve this? Seriously? Someone tell me what I did to deserve being thrown back into the middle ages, where they ride around on horses all day and don't have bathrooms or showers or anything! Why?!" Sam looks alarmed, but he doesn't say a word.

After that, she's silent, but I think she may be crying.

Sam starts to boil water over the fire he started, while Pyp and I set up the remaining tents. Ghost wanders into camp when he smells the food cooking. We work and eat in silence, only speaking up once to ask Storm if she's going to come out and eat.

"I'm not hungry!" Is her stubborn reply.

Ghost whines outside of Storm's tent for a few minutes, but even he isn't allowed inside, and he eventually gives up and comes to sit by me. He licks his chomps at the dried meat I'm chewing on, so I tear off a piece for him. He swallows it whole and then noses my shoulder with his snout. "No," I deny him any more of my supper. He's caught his own meal by now and is simply being spoiled. When he nudges me again, harder this time, I realize he's pushing me towards Storm's tent.

I look the dire wolf in the eyes and tell him firmly, "No. She wants to be left alone."

Ghost snorts at me, as if to protest. I frown at him. He's so strange when it comes to the girl. Sometimes I wonder if he knows what she's thinking, or maybe how she's feeling. But the thought is ridiculous. He's only a wolf.

"We should probably bring her some food," Sam whispers, agreeing with the white wolf. He and Pyp, and Ghost, all look to me pointedly.

"Oh, some we," I state, "I take it you all want me to do it."

Sam nods, while Pyp shrugs and reminds me, "Lord Commander put you in charge of her."

"He also stuck me with you two," I add, and Pyp and Sam both look offended. "Fine," I agree, "I'll bring her something to eat."

Sam fills a bowl with stew, and I rip off a hard piece of bread, while Pyp locates and tops off Storm's water container. My feet crunch through the snow as I approach her tent, making it difficult to sneak up on her. She better not yell at me for doing something nice for her. "Storm," I raise my voice so she can hear me above the howling of the wind, "I brought you something."

She doesn't reply.

"Come on," I urge her, "Open up. You can't be mad forever."

Still, she remains silent.

"Don't make me call Ghost over."

"Oh no," Comes Storm's sarcastic reply, "I'm so scared." I hear her shuffling around inside the tent, and she does eventually untie the strings to let me in, though she takes her sweet time doing it.

Despite her insisting she wasn't hungry before, she takes the bowl of stew from my hand and starts eating it ravenously. She finishes it all, and the bread, before she says anything to me directly. "Thanks," She reluctantly states. I hand over the water, and she drinks from that as well. "Sorry for being such a beast today. I hope Sam and Pyp don't hate me." She meets my eyes for the first time since we arrived at camp, adding, "Or you."

"We don't hate you," I assure her. "But…well, what was it that upset you so badly?"

Storm sighs, resettling herself under her fur blankets. She rubs her feet through the fur and shares, "I'm just having a bad day, that's all. I've never been outside for this long, and it sucks. And I thought Chicago was cold in the winter, but damn, it doesn't even compare to this place." Once she starts, it seems she can't stop, "And my legs really are sore from riding Honey, and now my stomach hurts; I have no idea how I'm going to ride tomorrow. This could not have happened at a worse moment. Like, how do women even live like this?" She's completely lost me…I don't know what she's talking about. "It's disgusting. I mean, it was bad enough when I realized I wouldn't be getting a shower for…well, ever, but now this? This little boy's shirt is restricting my chest, and it hurts, but I have nothing else to wear. And riding a horse when you have killer cramps is totally unreasonable. And now I have my period!" She looks momentarily embarrassed. She groans and hides her face behind her hands. "I'm sorry. Really. Don't mind me. I'll be fine in a few…days."

She's got her what? I ponder over her words before it finally sinks in. Oh, I blush, That. I should have realized sooner. She was complaining of her stomach hurting, and she was really moody, and she ate like she hasn't in days; Lady Stark acted this way when she was having her monthly too. I realize Storm is probably moody because she wasn't prepared, and I'm sure riding a horse is uncomfortable for her. It's too bad there isn't anything I can do to make her feel better.

"Can I…do anything for you?" I wince. Was that a bad thing to ask?

"Well, you could run to CVS and get me some tampons," Storm says, laughter in her eyes for the first time all day. I stare at her blankly and she shakes her head, "Never mind. I was only kidding. Really, Jon, I'm fine. I just want to go to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

She nods, "Yeah."

"All right," I start to back out of her tent, "Well, if you do need something…you know where to find me."

-*-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-*-

Storm

I feel awful for being so horrible to the guys today. I couldn't help it, though. PMS really is a bitch, and the second I started feeling the cramping in my lower abdomen, I knew what was coming. And it couldn't have come at a worse time. I was panicking all day; like, what do women do when they get their period in this place? Do they just bleed all over the place until it goes away? Are they confined to their rooms? If that's the answer, I didn't exactly have the luxury of doing so. There's no way I'd bleed all over that poor horse and let the boys know what's wrong with me. Well, aside from letting it slip to Jon, that is. And I wasn't going to tell him either, but it just sort of came out. He handled the news better than I expected. Trey forbade me from talking about my period, because it freaked him out.

Anyways, once I found spare rags and figured out a way to make a pad, I felt a little bit better. But I could really go for a hot shower right about now. And the feeling is only going to get worse for each day that goes by. I must look awful by now. I know I don't smell too great. When will I get to bathe? I wanted to ask Jon, but after blurting out the bit about my period I was too embarrassed. I hope when we get to Winterfell it will be one of the first things I'm able to do. I am starting to get desperate.

I should apologize to Sam for snapping at him earlier, too. I think I hurt his feelings. And Pyp didn't deserve the awful stink eye I gave him. Why is it that women not only have to bleed for one week out of every month, which is torture enough, but they also have the urge to bite off everyone's head? Especially the men. Maybe that's our payback for them not having the male version of a period. They'll never know how we feel, so we secretly hate them for it. It is a major pain in the ass. Tomorrow, I will apologize, and I'll try really super hard not to snap again.

I try to go to sleep, because my body is exhausted, but I can't rid myself of this bone-deep chill. I hear the wind whistling outside my tent, see the way it shakes the heavy fabric, and it makes me feel even colder. It's almost like I'm laying outside, in the snow, with the wind howling all around me.

I blink my eyes once and the tent above me disappears. I realize that I am laying outside in the snow, no blankets below me, no warm furs to cover me. I wrap my arms around my shoulders and shiver violently.

What happened? How did I get here? Did I disappear again, and end up somewhere else?

Just like I did when I landed in the snow outside the Wall, I hear footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching from all angles. Only this time, instead of Ghost and Jon coming to my rescue, it is an army of skeletons. At least, that's what they look like at first. As they march closer, I realize it looks more like an army of walking dead. Don't get me wrong, I love that show, but I never wanted to live the experience.

One dead man walking is riding a corpse horse, holding a long spear in his right hand. He has long white hair and eyes that are hauntingly blue, seeming to be glowing in the dark. He points his spear in my direction, and then howls a terrible battle cry. His army begins to ascend.

Only...when they approach, they don't attack me. They keep walking. I am not their intended target. In fact, they don't even seem to notice me at all.

As relieved as I am not to be their next meal ticket, I am curious to see what is. I lean up on my elbows and see in the distance where the dead walkers are marching to war. It's the Wall. And beyond that, I'm sure, is Castle Black.

I inhale sharply, and the next thing I know, I'm back inside my tent. I never left it. It was only a dream. The weird part is that I don't remember falling asleep, and I awoke in the same position which I was laying in the snow, leaning up on my elbows and staring off into the distance.

"What was that?" I whisper to myself. Why have my dreams been so random lately? At least before we left the Wall, I was dreaming of one constant thing: the struggle of power for the Iron Throne, and King Robert and Ned Stark's deaths. Now, I'm dreaming of red witches and dead armies and a sister I never knew I had. Am I supposed to believe in all of it? Or am I supposed to figure out the truth amongst the lies? I was so scared when I woke up from the dream of Melisandre, the Red Priestess, that nothing could convince me she's not real. But the dead army has me less convinced; do things like that really exist in this world? And while I'd like to believe I may be a Tyrell and have a sister who is happy for my return, I don't know if I'm ready to believe that. If I do, and I never find her, I'll be immensely disappointed. But if I'm not really a Tyrell, and I don't have a sister, I might be equally as disappointed.

I can feel my whole body shaking with shivers, and I know I won't fall back asleep if I can't get warm. I listen for any signs that the boys are still awake outside my tent, but hear nothing except for the tell-tale sound of Sam's snoring. He's clearly asleep, and since I don't hear any murmurs or whispers from Jon and Pyp, I can only assume they are sleeping too. Quiet as can be, I crawl to the front of my tent and untie the strings. Before I step out into the freezing night air, I wrap my blanket securely around my shoulders and slip my feet into my boots. I then sprint to the tent not containing the snoring.

"Jon," I whisper, barely able to hear my own voice above the wind. I try a little louder, "Jon, are you awake?" The wind seems to whip harder around me, so I call his name one last time, as loud as I dare.

He doesn't respond, but I hear Ghost sniffing at the entrance of the tent. I know I probably shouldn't, but I stick my fingers in the corner of the flap, trying to see if there's enough room for me to reach in and untie the tent myself. Something warm and wet meets my fingers, and I realize Ghost has licked me. He's who I came for anyways; I want to smuggle the dire wolf from Jon's tent to my own so I can use him as a personal heater. I manage to grasp the very end of a tie string, and I gently pull. It comes undone, and Ghost immediately sticks his snout out of the tent and tries to lap at my face with his big tongue.

"Wait a minute, Ghost," I say to him in a hushed tone. I'm surprised all his moving around hasn't already woken Jon, but I guess he must be completely exhausted. I don't blame him.

With the extra room the release of the first tie has given me, I extend my arm inside Jon's tent further to unlace the second string. That should give Ghost enough room to follow me back to my tent. Once the string is loose, I pull the flap to the side and motion for the white wolf to step out into the night. He does the opposite of what I wanted, though; sitting back on his haunches and tipping his head to the side as if he doesn't know what I'm asking of him. I shake my head and pat my leg, whispering, "Come on, you silly wolf. Come sleep with me." He's slept on the edge of my bed once before, the last night at the castle, so I don't know why he's giving me such a hard time now.

I step forward, reaching out to Ghost, thinking that if I scratch him behind the ears he'll have more of a reason to come with me. What I'm not expecting is for him to open his jaw and bite down on the corner of my blanket. Before I can even wonder what is going on, he's given the blanket a firm yank in his direction, and pulled me off my feet, right into Jon's tent!

"Oh!" I gasp out in surprise, putting out my free hand to catch me as I fall face-first into the bundle of blankets that Jon is buried beneath. He jolts awake, his hands immediately finding me in the dark. I guess it wasn't so hard since I was half on top of him and half on top of the sneaky dire wolf that lays at his feet.

"Storm?" Jon asks, his voice full of sleep, "What are you doing? Is everything all right?"

I pull my feet off Ghost and push off of Jon's chest so I can sit up. How do I explain myself now? "Uh, sorry," I say sheepishly, "I was trying to steal Ghost from you, but he grabbed onto my blanket and pulled me in."

"You were..." Jon blinks up at me a few times, obviously still half-asleep, "stealing Ghost?"

I laugh at how cute he looks; his hair ruffled from sleep and his eyes squinted in confusion. "I was cold," I explain, "So I was trying to get him to come sleep with me. Apparently he doesn't want to."

"Oh," Jon nods, his eyes falling shut again.

Well I wasn't wrong about him being exhausted.

I decide to give up on my mission and simply let the poor guy sleep, but now his giant wolf side-kick won't let me leave. He stretches out his body as long and wide as he possibly can across the tent entrance. I attempt to step over him, but he rolls onto his side and blocks me with his paws.

"Seriously Ghost?" I question the wolf, "What do you want from me?"

Jon mumbles something, but I don't make out the words.

"What?" I ask over my shoulder.

"He wants you to stay." Jon's eyes remain closed, but I know he's not talking in his sleep.

"But..." I protest weakly.

"It's cold," Jon tells me, "Close that."

I stare at him for a moment, wondering if he's so tired he doesn't realize what he's saying. The last thing I want to happen is to fall asleep beside him and have him wake up in the morning and forget he told me I could stay. I don't want him to feel like I invaded his privacy or anything.

Jon turns on his side suddenly, rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up. When the blanket falls from his chest I see that he's shirtless, and I have to look away. I mean, I could stare, but I'm trying to be good, and staring at Jon shirtless could lead to trouble. I still vividly remember the weird vision I received before leaving the Wall, of Jon and I...well, rolling in the sheets together. I'm trying to forget, but if I thought I was having trouble before it's going to be even harder now that I know what he looks like half-naked. It's even better than the fantasy.

Jon reaches for the edge of his tent, which is flapping in the wind, and pulls it shut, deftly tying both strings in the time it would have taken me to tie one. Ghost seems pretty pleased with himself at the results of his mischief. Jon doesn't say anything else, but when he lays down again, he leaves room for me beside him. I scoot closer to him, not needing a verbal invitation. I don't know how much clearer he could be. I can already feel his body heat warming me up, so I adjust my blanket, spreading it evenly over me and Jon, and then sink into the warmth that I haven't felt since before my fever burned off. It was only a few nights ago that I considered how nice it would be to fall asleep with Jon beside me, and now he is. It may not be in his arms, but it's a start.

Thanks for reading! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought :)

Next Chapter will be another Jon/Storm chapter, and then the one after that will be Mari. (I changed my mind lol)

-MissCarolineForbes