I own nothing. :'(
Trigger warning: Violence, Nudity, and tons of blood.
First P.O.V. Wintertown
...
Jon and I went towards a man and his family. They had a wooden cart and were selling fruit.
"Stay here." I nodded as he left to go buy some.
I nervously scratched my arm as I stared at all the people coming and going.
"Why so afraid dearest?" An old voice croaked.
I turned to see an old woman who was sitting on a wooden box. She had greying hair, a wooden cane, and was wearing rags. In front of her on the muddy ground was a bag with a couple of coins in it. Her face had lines, each one telling a story. All of them deep and defined.
I gave her a small smile and shook my head.
"I'm not scared, My Lady. I'm just a bit disappointed."
"Ahhh." She mumbled. "How curious."
"What's curious?" Jon arrived. His arms were carrying a couple of pears and apples.
"I'm not exactly sure." I said.
It was true. I didn't exactly know what this conversation was heading towards, considering we haven't spoken for that long.
But I really wanted to find out.
"Are you in any trouble, M'am?" Asked Jon with as much caution as he could muster.
The old crone glanced between Jon and I, quirking an eyebrow.
"Oh!" She exclaimed. She put a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes, and started to feign faint.
I thought it was quite entertaining, whereas Jon was tensing up.
"I am quite famished, if only there were kind enough people in the world to spare me a crumb. I would surely repay them the favor."
From the corner of my eye I saw how Jon's grip on the fruit got a bit tighter, slightly turning his body away as if to protect a newborn baby from a lion.
I knelt down, and gave the woman a gentle smile.
"Well then we'll just have to remedy that, won't we?"
I felt Jon sigh behind me, and hand over an apple.
"That was going to be yours." He murmured.
"I don't mind."
I put the apple in the woman's withered hands.
The woman have me a smile, with some teeth missing.
She bit into the apple, it's juice dripping from her chin, with her chewing loudly.
"How thoughtful of you to give me this, now I may give you something back."
She set down her bitten apple next to her. The crone caressed my hands, then suddenly yanked me down to sit in front of her.
Jon moved hastily (although his arms were still clutching the fruit) and stood right next to me.
"What are you doing?" He asked gruffly.
"Don't worry. I need to see her eyes." The woman responded.
She looked deep into my eyes, and then rolled her eyes into the back of her head.
I froze, thinking something was wrong until she started to speak.
"Events are to cause a change in your life. You will find the answers in the past, and resolves in the distance. There will be four paths. The red one, the yellow one, the grey one, the purple one. Go down grey, and see your heart's dismay. Go down yellow, and be trapped by creatures of darkness. Go down red and see history come alive. Go down purple, and be immersed in honesty. The choice is coming up soon. Two but not the same. Two of noble name. Two to play the game."
What was this woman talking about?
Paths, Games, and Choices?
What was there to fear about a path?
The woman's eyes closed, and when she opened them she probably saw Jon and I cautiously backing away.
"Can I help you, Dearies?" She asked.
"Ugh..." I didn't know how to respond. Jon just grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away.
He looked me in the eye and said, "Do you know what she was meant?"
I shook my head.
"What if she's a seer?"
His eyes narrowed. "Ophelia, there is no such thing as Seers."
"Well there might be!"
"Do you honestly believe that woman is a Seer?"
We both peered back at the Crone, who was humming a nonsensical tune, swaying back and forth.
"No, not really."
Jon sighed and said plainly, "All that woman is, is a cheat. And she managed to swindle you out of an apple. You are lucky it wasn't more, or else you would never hear the end of it from Lady Catelyn."
He did have a good point.
That woman was rather odd, and she did seem fine now that she had her apple.
"I suppose you're right."
His back straightened and had a stern expression on his face.
"Of course I'm right. I've seen my fair share of trouble with Robb and Theon. This isn't the first time I've seen a swindle. Now, at least you learned a lesson in trusting people."
"I guess I did."
Jon is usually right, but a small part of me still believed that this old woman was no ordinary woman.
Old Nan would say there was more to a person than what meets the eyes.
So would it be completely preposterous of me, however small that fraction might be, that believed this Crone's words of the future?
I sighed and leaned against Jon, so a cart could pass us.
I looked at his pale face which was a pink color, his grey eyes looking at anything but me.
I also blushed at the inappropriate nature of our position.
Even for a bastard and a serving girl, being pressed up against each other was frowned upon.
Especially since we aren't betrothed.
I shuffled back and stared at the ground, suddenly finding my shoes very interesting.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, and shifted his eyes away from me.
"I'm hungry, let's eat."
I didn't argue with that.
We sat by the well in the middle of the square, quietly munching on our fruit.
"Do you ever believe that things might change?" I asked quietly after finishing my pear.
"Is this still about that old woman?"
I shook my head.
"She did make me think, but sometimes the thought crosses my mind when I'm having tea with My Lady or gathering truffles. How long until everything becomes different?"
Jon scoffed. "And would things changing be a nuisance? I'd welcome all rings of The Seven Hells if it would mean change for me."
My eyes widened.
I knew Jon had it worse than the other Stark children, but was it really that horrid?
"Well I guess you should be thankful then." I replied with a gleam in my eye.
"Aye, and why should I?"
"Because we keep the Old Gods." His steely glare of disbelief melted into one of his rare smiles, albeit small.
"Well I don't know about you, but I think we should go check on that ass... I mean Theon."
I giggled, then nodded.
...
When we got back to the tavern, Theon was sitting in a chair, with a fire-haired woman draped across his lap in a matter which would not be suitable if Lord Stark were to see him.
Jealousy flared through me as I saw this woman kissing my best friend on his neck, peppering her lips on his skin, as if she were his wife and this tavern was their bedroom.
I guess they must have sensed someone watching them, because the mysterious woman turned around and caught Jon and me staring at the pair of them. She didn't get off the Kraken's lap, but did at least have the decency to look a bit appalled.
Theon, however, remained impassive. He even glared at Jon and I as if we were the ones doing something wrong.
"Can I help you?" He asked in a cool voice, lifting his mug to take a sip of ale.
If I didn't know him so well, I'd suspect that he was annoyed, but considering I knew him better than most, I could very easily tell that he was hurt.
I didn't do anything though! He was the one who was planning to leave me so he could shag some cheap whore! If anyone had the right to be mad, it was me.
But I wasn't.
Not in the slightest.
Just sad.
Was I considered so lowly in his life that he could turn me away so easily?
I could feel myself getting sweaty with dread at the thought.
"No mate." responded Jon not moving his crossed arms.
"Since when are we mates, Snow?"
"Stop being an ass, and let's get the shopping done. You're wasting my time, and Ophelia's."
Theon pretended to contemplate it for a moment, and then shook his head.
"Nah, I like my time being spent here. But if you want to go ahead and be a servant for a servant, I'm not stopping you. Carry her bags. That's all a bastard is good for."
Theon was on the floor quicker than I could blink. Jon was standing above him, with his fist back on his side. He glanced over at the woman who was previously on Theon's lap, and now was on the ground.
She seemed as surprised as I was by this turn of events. Jon extended a hand, and she took it.
He stood her up, and said, "Sorry to knock you down Ros, the Squid had it coming to him."
She waved it off, and helped an angry Theon up.
He shoved her away from him, dusting off his clothes in a fury.
"Why did you do that for?!"
Jon sauntered off without responding. I looked back at my friend, who was wiping the blood from his lip. I headed after the Bastard of Winterfell.
He really did move quickly, because I couldn't see him.
I gripped my basket tightly as I made my way through the market.
"Jon!" I called out, trying to see if he was going to yell back.
I felt so bad. Sure Jon was brooding and not the easiest to get along with, but he was a good person in general. I was riddled with complete disappointment at my friend and his treatment of Jon.
My head was constantly turning one way or the other as more and more people started to flood the streets.
'Why are there so many people here today?' I thought to myself
Then, I noticed their expressions, all panicked looking.
"It's coming this way!" a man shouted, his voice full of fear.
I was so distracted looking for Jon, that I didn't notice that a man had lost control of his cart. Apparently his horse saw something that struck it with fear, and was running all over the market. The mayhem it had started, caused people to come in my direction.
I was starting to get pushed around as people tried to escape the runaway cart.
I yelped as a woman, who was holding a child, ran into my shoulder causing me to fall onto a spices stand.
I fell hard on the stand, my weight resulting in the table breaking. The ceramic jars of various exotic spices smashed onto the ground with a huge cloud surrounding me as people were running ahead, trying to get away from the now subdued horse.
As if the pain on my side (Where I hit the table) wasn't bad enough, I lifted my head up slightly to see my basket was reduced to splinters from stampede of people.
That was my favorite (and only basket) gifted to me by Lord Stark when I was ten and three.
I laid my head back down, and took a breath.
As I was just about to stand, a sharp pain in my scalp made me get up.
I cried out as I came face to face with a man who was decorated in orient clothing, who had a look of disgust and hatred on his face.
He was fat and bald and had an air of arrogance surrounding his livid face.
He shook with rage as he yelled, "YOU INSOLENT GIRL! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH IT WILL COST TO REPLACE THOSE SPICES?! THEY CAME ALL THE WAY FROM QUARTH!"
"I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault, someone knocked me over!"
"WHO IS YOUR MASTER?!"
"Please Ser! I have no master!"
"LIAR!"
He started to drag me away from the stand, with his hand still fisted in my hair.
My pleas for him to stop did nothing, and neither did my cries for help as onlookers sneered at me or glanced away, ignoring the debacle as if nothing were going on.
We got to the middle of the town square, where Jon and I had earlier eaten.
For a brief moment I had wondered what we were doing here until I spotted the direction the foreign man was headed: the flogging post.
I started to thrash about, doing everything for the man to loosen his grip so that I may have a chance to escape.
It was all for naught.
We arrived at the post where two bannerman of House Stark were attending it.
One had a spear, while the other maintained a sword.
They were unfamiliar looking as they were probably at their normal post in town. Only a certain handful of skilled soldiers were allowed to be in Winterfell.
One spotted us, and nudged the other who stood up straight.
"What is your business with this girl?" One asked, gesturing to me flailing about.
"This peasant destroyed all my spices. I demand justice!"
The one who stood up straighter looked skeptical and asked, "Is this true, girl?"
"It wasn't my fault!"
The one with the spear leaned up against his weapon and chuckled, "It never is."
"Please! I know Lord Stark, if you could just take me to the castle, I'm sure he would-"
SLAP!
I didn't even realize the man let go of my hair, as my scalp was still screaming in agony.
While both men looked entirely uncomfortable with this situation, they merely stood there and watched the foreign man assault me.
"Isn't there a law for this!?" He inquired loudly.
"Yes. All matters of thievery and damaged property are brought before the Warden of the North and he-"
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DAMN WARDEN OF THE NORTH! I WANT JUSTICE! NOW!" In a lower voice the Bald Man whispered, "I am the Spice King, and I have some very powerful friends. You do not want to cross me."
The two soldiers looked each other, and with immense unease they marched forward and grabbed me by the forearms.
"W-w-what are you doing?! Let me go at one! I know Lady Catelyn Stark and Lord Eddard Stark!"
"And I know the Queen." The taller of the two replied with sarcasm.
"Don't fight it, you'll only make it worse for yourself." The other whispered lightly into my ear.
Despite my fierce protests, they hauled me up to the flogging post, taking off my coat in the process, and cuffed my wrists to the wooden pole.
I didn't see, but I heard the spectacle all around me as people gathered in a grim fascination to watch my punishment.
The punishment I did nothing to deserve.
I could hear the taller bannerman face the crowd and speak as the other began to undo the laces on the back of my dress.
"For the damage of irreplaceable property, Lord Stark of Winterfell and Warden of the North sentences this girl to ten lashings across the back."
'Liars', I thought to myself with tears flowing rivers down my face. 'The whole lot of them are liars.'
I felt a breeze on my back, and I mentally braced myself.
Have you ever cut yourself with a knife?
I did once, when I was helping the Cook prepare lemon cakes for Sansa's nameday. I took the ripe yellow fruit and was beginning to cut, when I had a clumsy moment.
I had already cut several lemons that day, so the blade was covered in the acidic juice when it sliced my fingers open.
I screamed, it had hurt so bad.
However, this...was much, much, worse.
The first lashing felt like my sliced fingers times ten.
The second was agony.
The third I was screaming for help and begging the bannermen to stop.
By the fifth, I was starting to get dizzy, when I heard a voice.
Perhaps it was an angel, perhaps it wasn't, but this entity was calling out for me.
"OPHELIA!" It yelled frantically.
I heard voices exclaim from the crowd of onlookers as something was shoving it's way through them, up to this podium.
"What is your business with this girl!?" It asked furiously.
"She damaged my spices and is now paying the price."
"Was she taken to the Lord of Winterfell?"
"I have no time for silly politics, this girl needs to be punished now."
"Boy this is none of your concern." One of the soldiers snapped.
"It is. I am John Snow, and my father is Lord Edward Stark. I demand you to release her."
"Why should I believe anything that is to come out of your mouth? All you Snows are the same: lying, little bastards!"
I heard the whip hit something, but I did not feel the sting of a slash.
"Bastard, I'm warning you! Walk away!"
"Jon! What's going on?" There was a pause of silence then another frantic voice called out my name.
"OPHELIA! WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS IS GOING ON?!"
"These men punished her without consent of the Warden of The North."
As I heard the back and forth banter between Theon, Jon, The Spice King, and the Soldiers, I feel a person walk beside me and put something against my lips.
I shook my head when a soft voice whispered in my ear, "It is milk of the poppy. Madam gives it to us if a customer gets too rough. I always keep some near me."
I turned my head to see Ros, looking worried and sympathetic.
All negative thoughts I've had about her vanished in that moment of kindness.
She put the bottle to my lips again, urging me to drink it with her pleading eyes.
I did so, and soon I slipped into a peaceful darkness.
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