Heh-heh. This chapter will have...an important moment to the story. Don't wake the dragon, that's all I'm going to say. Thank you to all those who reviewed it makes my day! It gives me inspiration to write, and honestly, my life is such a mess at the moment that this story, my readers, and your reviews help me through these dark times. :)
I highly suggest listening to Name-By the Goo-Goo Dolls. It definitely fits the tone for this chapter.
I woke up in the early morning in a bed.
Not at the Wall or Mole's Town, but at Winterfell.
A part of me regretted coming back, but whenever I thought about Robb Stark and his pleading voice with his big Tully blue eyes, I knew I couldn't say no.
Hopefully, some good will come out of this. I had hoped that my return to the castle from my short hiatus away meant Robb and I could have a fresh start. If I was willing to let the past be the past with the Pyralis family, I should be willing to do the same with Robb and I.
It was stupid, us not being friends because of what happened as children.
I loved Nova. I loved her very much.
But I now realized that she wasn't worth the heartache and regret of the years lost between Robb and I, when we could've been together as friends.
And whatever chance I had of leaving and going off to explore the world left the moment I set foot back here in Winterfell.
I rolled to my side to see my little puffball of a companion sound asleep on the pillow next to me. Its little breaths were puffing it out into a bigger ball, then it would deflate, then it would do it again. The chick was so cute I wanted to squeeze it and squeeze it and love it some more.
I stroked it's sleeping head to ease my inward gushing towards my companion.
"Now, what's a good name for you?" I muttered to myself, "I can't keep calling you Little Bird. Soon you'll grow and you will need a proper name." I scratched the top of it's head lightly. "Don't worry," I assured the sleeping chick, "I'll think of the best name for you."
I looked at the unusually bright pink of it's fluff.
"What kind of bird are you?" I asked it.
Perhaps it was a sparrow or a maybe a robin?
I thought about the one person who knew the North better than anyone, but I didn't want to speak to him about Little Bird...at least not yet.
I studied it further.
"Are you a boy or a girl? I should probably just give you a name that can go either way...if there is such a name like that."
I started to think up of names that would fit this cute little animal.
Grace? No, too bleh.
Tobias? No, too hideous.
Aegon? No, too Targaryen.
Loran? No, too common.
Lyllal? No, too...everything!
I groaned in frustration, but I knew their name would come to me eventually. Trying to come up with a name for Little Bird made me think of my own name, and the new surname I was told that now comes with it.
I rolled back on my other side and thought about the past events that has occurred within the last several days.
Ophelia Pyralis. Ophelia Pyralis. Ophelia Pyralis.
I repeated my surname in my head like a sacred mantra, unused to how foreign it sounded to me. Even speaking it out loud left a bitter aftertaste on my tounge and was difficult to say, like trying to talk with a stick in your mouth. I know, Pyralis is an easy name to pronounce...but it was difficult for me to even so much as utter it. Throughout my entire life, I was always Ophelia. Now I have a last name to go with my first.
I thought about what I did know about the Pyralis family.
They were slaves once, then they weren't.
I snorted at the bitter irony of me working as a servant.
The married each other, then they married the Targaryens.
Who could kiss their relative, let alone think about marrying them? How were they attracted to people they shared blood with? This disturbed and disgusted me endlessly.
One Pyralis, the servant Nuri, was killed by the flames of a dragon, yet he had risen again.
I rolled my eyes at that one. It's been known that history gets mixed up over time and details become more and more fabricated. Obviously, this was not the truth.
And what of my parents?
Unfurling myself from my blankets, I sat up and thought about the people that were the reason for my existence.
What reason did Lord Stark have for killing them?
Hatred?
Revenge?
Was he bored and just thought, "I'm going to go murder some people today!'?
Did he dislike my father for some reason? Was he jealous that my mother married my father? Did they owe House Stark an enormous debt? Did they do something to earn the wrath of the Starks?
Obviously, if they are dead.
Did Lord Stark, even after having a hand in raising me, hate me?
Was him raising me in the ways of the North Lord Stark's form of ultimate revenge against my parents?
Was he even seeking revenge?
Why did he kill them?
One question burned through my mind above all others, a question I was afraid to utter out loud: How did Lord Stark kill my parents? It was a question I did not want to know the answer to, but couldn't help but think about.
And My Lady, she said she loved my mother as a sister. If they were so close, why did she allow her husband to kill her friend?
How close were they? How did they know each other?
Ugh! Why was I thinking about this? I mentally slapped myself.
I had sworn to stay away from anything regarding my so-called 'family' and that is what I intended to do.
My stomach growled. I clutched my rumbling tummy and got out of bed. I walked to the window to see if any of the servants were still out and about. Barely anyone was walking, just some of the House Guard.
This meant that Lord Stark, Robb, and Jon had returned.
I twisted my hair into a bun and went to the door. I unlatched and opened it, making sure to look around if anyone was out there.
I know that being back meant I would face people sooner or later, but I would rather it be later. I was doing my best to avoid people for as long as possible. It was fortunate that I woke up this early. Not even the cook was up yet.
I went into the hall and closed my door, making sure to do it gently so no one would hear me.
Aside from the more obvious reasons of me avoiding people, I was still only wearing my ankle length brown robe, with nothing underneath.
Why did I have to dirty my nightgown?!
I hit myself on the forehead at my stupidity of wearing it under my gown. Usually, I don't wear anything, this includes a shift and stays, but I felt like it would be less painful for my back if I was more covered.
I rubbed my left shoulder, trying to reach my back.
I haven't changed my bandages since the day before yesterday, and if I don't do it soon my cuts will become infected with pus.
On the bright side, I did take a bath last night to get clean, so that could delay any infection for a little while. I still needed to put on my bandages though.
I made a mental note to do that after getting some food.
Perhaps later on I could pay Maester Luwin a visit to help me with them.
I didn't want to confront My Lady just yet.
I padded downstairs to the kitchens, barefoot I might add, avoiding the routes which had the most probability of me running into someone.
I arrived to the kitchens, which were dark, with the exception of the soft yellow glow from the fire in the open air oven. I went over to put a log in, something I did out of kindness so the cook would not have to worry about re-kindling the fire, like he had done a couple days ago. After doing so I made my way to the cupboard where the dried jerky was, only to find it empty.
"Damn." I muttered to myself.
Sscratching my head, I turned around and my eyes went wide.
On a stool eating the rest of the jerky and some fruit, sat an observant Jon Snow. He was watching me as he stuffed some jerky into his cheeks.
I felt myself freeze as I stared at him.
My knees felt like jelly and my stomach was doing twists and turns, resulting in my breathing becoming sharp and ragged. My first instinct was to flee, but I planted my feet firmly on the ground.
Jon took another bite of the jerky, watching me with a blank expression on his face.
I cleared my throat.
"Ahem...do you umm...do you have anymore of that?" I asked, fiddling with the sides of my robe.
He swallowed what was in his mouth, nodded, and held out the bowl of jerky.
"Did you just get back?" I asked quietly.
Another nod.
"You must be hungry." I tried to tease.
No reaction this time. No nod. No words.
The silence I was being subjected to made me anxious. The blank expression on Jon's face didn't help either.
'Say something!', I internally screamed at him, 'Yell at me, shake me! Do something other than this, please!'
I took a step closer to him. My hand was outreaching to the meat, when on a fleeting instinct I pushed his outstretched arm aside.
If he wasn't going to talk to me, then I would have to talk to him.
There was no running away from this situation.
I had to make peace with my friend.
I shook my head and walked until I was directly in front of him, his head at the level of my chest, but his Stark grey eyes firmly on my face.
"Jon," I whispered quietly, "I am so sorry. I should have never said that to you. Not once have I ever thought of you as low because you're a bastard."
His face looked hurt again and he immediately stood up. Jon started to walk out of the kitchens. As he was making his exit, he put the bowl of jerky on a counter near the entrance of the kitchen.
Perhaps that was wrong thing to say.
"Wait!" I called after him. I turned my body to fully face his back and I saw that he did stop.
I tried again.
"Please Jon. I apologize, for everything! I know that you were hurt by what I said, and I hurt myself just by uttering those stupid words. But I care about you, Jon! Can't you see that?"
I saw his back stiffen from my words and I continued.
"When we were children, every time you were sad my heart broke because I hated seeing you so distraught. I am sorry for the hell I put you, as well as everyone else, through. I actually contemplated not coming back. Can you believe that? Honestly, I was going to leave. But I did come back, and I would be lying if I didn't say that making things right with you was part of the reason of me returning."
I sighed and rubbed my shoulder in self-consciousness at my words. I was sure I was rambling on by now. "I actually thought about going to the Wall, because of how often you talk about it. Then, I had this crazy plan to go to the Summer Isles because I really wanted to go there ever since tried that fruit together. Do you remember we were children and we-"
Jon snapped around to face me, smacking the bowl off the counter in frustration. The noise from the bowl hitting the ground vibrated around the room and the jerky in it spilled everywhere.
My eyes widened in fear and I took a cautious step back.
He stalked towards me, his face intimidating, his Stark grey eyes became black with an emotion I could not pin point.
I backed up beside the oven, bumping into the wall behind me. He came closer to me, almost touching me.
I looked down at my feet, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
I probably made him furious with my pathetic excuse of an apology.
I glanced back up at him and tried to apologize once more. A simple apology this time.
"Jon, I am s-"
"Shut up, Ophelia." He growled and grabbed the back of my head. He crashed his lips onto mine.
I froze.
Jon was kissing me.
Jon Snow was kissing me!
Out of all the women who looked at him, out of all the girls who thought he was attractive, he chose me to kiss.
My first kiss.
Holy Maiden, Jon fucking Snow was kissing me!
My mind kept returning to this thought. I closed my eyes and melted into his lips. I kissed him back as best as I could. I think I did well considering this was my first time.
He tasted like jerky and apples and fire. He smelled musky, like damp earth and freshly cut wood, as well as a hint of peppermint.
As he kissed me, he had one hand on the back of my head and the other on the small of my back.
Jon pressed his lips harder to mine and actually bit my bottom lip. I opened my mouth to gasp but he took that as an opportunity to stick his tounge in my mouth. He pulled our already touching bodies closer and moved his hand from my back to my hip.
From there, he slowly trailed his rough, strong hands upwards underneath my robe.
Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Oh Gods.
What was he doing?!
Why was I letting him do this?! I needed to put a stop to it, but the mere feeling of his fingers made me paralyzed with a fire he set upon my skin just from touching me.
I felt like my heart was going to burst.
His hands were warm and my body shuddered in delight. They kept making their way upwards towards my chest at an aganozingly slow pace.
Slowly up.
Slowly up.
Slowly up.
It was torture.
His hands abruptly stopped underneath my breasts and he pulled away from me.
For a moment, the only sound was our hard ragged breathing and the soft crackling of the fire from the oven.
I opened my eyes to see his closed. He peppered my face with soft kisses and was clutching my robe so tightly, I feared he was going to rip it off. I had no nightgown underneath.
I blushed red at the thought.
Very, very slowly he released his grasp from me and opened his eyes, that intense look now gone.
He backed away from me and put enough distance between us.
One hand was on my sore chapped lips, the other over my heart to still the erratic beating.
Jon leaned against the table in the middle of the kitchen and remained there giving me a wide-eyed look.
"I'm sorry, Ophelia. I don't know what came over me." Jon's eyes raked over me, and the look in his eyes almost returned. He quickly shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths to control himself. He opened his shut eyes to reveal a calmer look, and his breathing slowed down to a less erratic pace.
I could only nod, not trusting my voice or head to say words.
"I had to do that...at least once."
Huh? What did he mean by that?
He turned and basically ran out of the kitchens, leaving me alone and disheveled.
I stood in the dimly-lit room, staring at nothing.
Subconsciously, I fixed my robe by tightening it, especially near the top where my teats were dangerously close to being full exposed.
Then it was quiet.
My mind was racing with a singular question in mind.
...WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS HAPPENED?!
I forgot about my hunger and couldn't help the goofy grin, a result from my first kiss, spreading across my face.
I should apologize to him more often.
And the way he kissed me!
I was just kissed.
And I liked it.
I started to hum a nonsensical tune and slowly danced around the kitchens.
I swayed back to my room this way, not even caring if I passed people.
I tried to think of other things.
Books.
Mops.
Carrots.
The fact that I am a Pyralis.
Soap.
Vomit.
But all I could go back to was Jon's soft lips and his rough hands.
What came over him? He's never acted like that before (not that I minded), and has never even hinted that he wanted to do something like that with me.
Or has he?
Did he drop any hints about him kissing me that I might have been oblivious to?
It honestly confounded me.
I had always thought Jon wasn't interested in girls...period. He never expressed an interest in anyone, never told me, Robb, or Theon about entering a courtship with a girl. Even as a child he never expressed wanting to get married to a princess, much like Robb did. I always thought it was because of his baseborn status...but perhaps, could it be because of me?
I went into my room, closed the door, and latched it shut. I walked to my bed and flopped down on it, staring at the ceiling above me.
My mind kept repeating the memory of the kiss over and over.
Did Jon care for me in a romantic way?
Was he just using me?
How far was I willing to go with him?
I thought back to his hands under my robe.
I closed my eyes in pleasure at the thought.
Why me?
Was I going to stop him from going further if he hadn't stopped himself?
I should've been lecturing myself for letting him touch me, or even kiss, in such an inappropriate manner.
I was starting to feel overwhelmed again.
"Keep it together." I muttered to myself. I ran my hands down my face and couldn't stop smiling, giddy about what had happened.
"You have more important things to worry about, Ophelia. Don't go looking for more trouble." I reprimanded my awestruck brain.
But Jon Snow wasn't trouble.
He was the opposite of trouble.
He made me forget in that moment about everything bad.
It was only us.
Jon, with his curly black hair, stoic attitude, and chivalrous manner. And his strong arms. And his soft pink lips.
"Stop!" I shouted at myself, blushing furiously.
This was Jon! The boy I grew up with. The one who played with me and Nova. The one who bathed with me when we were babies and tiny tykes. The one who taught me to ride a horse. The one who would sleep in my bed because he was scared of the shadows at night. The one who was there for me when Robb and I stopped talking. The one who brung me a warm water skin when my first moonsblood occured. The one who dropped a huge clod of snow on people when they passed by the walls of Winterfell. The one who would sneak sweets from kitchens because I was having a bad day. The one who gave me a seaglass bracelet to cheer me up-something that was still among my possessions to this very day.
It would make no sense for him to care for me in a romantic manner.
Though on the other hand...it would make perfect sense for us to end up together. It would only be natural for us to develop feelings for each other.
Oh Gods...did I have feelings for Jon Snow, or was I just happily gleeful from being kissed?
What was I going to do?
I touched my lips and started to giggle again.
Jon Snow kissed me.
It was fiery and passionate and-
I suddenly snapped my fingers at the name that randomly came to mind. I turned and smiled at my still slumbering bird.
"Ethaesper! I shall call you Ethaesper." I smiled at my puffball and went over to nuzzle my cheek against them
"Eep-eep!" Ethaesper woke up at the sound of their new name and hopped up against my cheek.
"Awww, I love you too!"
A sharp knock interuppted my cuddlefest with Ethaesper and I froze.
Who could it be?
My mind went to the curly-haired boy and my stomach did twists and turns. I scolded myself to stop acting so foolish. I jumped off the bed, smoothed my appearance, and calmly walked over to the door.
I opened it to reveal Theon.
A red-eyed Theon, who looked extremely angry with me.
He barged into my room without an invitation and whipped around to glare at me. He stood in front of the fireplace. His body language told me he was ready to hit something or collapse from the weight of stress.
I probably passed him on my way back from the kitchens, too much in a daze to notice him.
He obviously noticed me.
I gently shut my door and turned to face him.
He exploded.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS...ABOUT YOU, ABOUT WHERE YOU'D GONE OFF TO?! WHY WOULD DO SUCH A STUPID THING, LIKE RUNNING AWAY?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD...THAT YOU WOULD NEVER RETURN...I THOUGHT THAT YOU LEFT ME!"
I was taken aback by Theon, who was at his most vulnerable than I had ever seen him before.
I examined his appearance. His clothes were messy, as though he hadn't changed in several days. His eyes had bags under them, an obvious sign on sleepless nights. Stubble was growing around his clean-shaven face, and his eyes were red.
He had been crying.
I ran over and hugged him. My arms wrapped around his waist and I put my head on his chest. Theon was about to say something else but I squeezed him tightly and eventually, he gripped me back just as hard.
He slid to the floor on his knees and I came down with him.
"It's okay. I'm back, and I won't be going anywhere." He held onto me and I felt his teardrops in my hair.
Theon lowered his voice to a low tone.
"I thought you might've been killed...or raped...you can't go. You're the only one who understands me, the only one to know what it's like to be... He trailed off and I felt his body shake. More of his tears continued to wet the top of my head, but I had no care if they did.
"Within and without?" I finished for him in a soft voice. I felt him nod fervently.
"They don't understand...they will never understand. Please don't leave me again." His voice cracked, and I felt his fingers digging into my flesh holding onto dear life.
They, meaning the Starks, would never understand. It was true. They could never understand what reality was for people like us. They would never be able to see beyond their picturesque world. It disappointed me so, despite my affections for them.
Lord Stark and My Lady would never understand because in their eyes, Theon is a Greyjoy, and as a general consensus of the people, one should never trust a Greyjoy. Robb could never fully bond with Theon, because he would be Lord of Winterfell and Theon would still be a ward. Jon could never understand Theon because he is a bastard, a whole other set of problems.
Sansa could never be with someone like Theon, because he had nothing to give her, in terms of status and wealth. Arya, as wild as she is, will never relate to Theon because if she wanted to, she could travel Westeros, whereas Theon would have to remain within the walls of Winterfell. Bran could be a knight, something Theon would never be able to accomplish, because of his status as a political prisoner. And Rickon, Little Rickon, would soon see that not everyone is as fortunate as he when it came to families.
They would never understand indeed.
But I could.
Yes, I could feel his pain when it came to being an outsider, but unlike him (someone who yearned to be accepted) I was fine being half in their world, and half out of it.
Or at least I was fine with my position until recently.
Yet, it pained me to see my friend in such an emotional state.
I suppose even someone like Theon Greyjoy needs a person on their side, someone to talk to, someone who was willing to listen.
My heart fell at his voice, the tone of which sounded like a sad little boy, and I said, "I won't leave you. I promise."
Theon looked me in my eyes and said, "Don't leave me. I don't want you to go. I don't want you to be away from me."
I nodded and gave him a small, sad smile in reassurance, "I'm not going to leave you. I don't want to be away from you either."
He kissed my forehead fiercely and continued to hold me.
I made the right decision in coming back.
So, yeah...I thought this was a bit fun to write. Haha. Anyways, remember what I wrote in a previous author's note. Lol yay, TheonxOphelia bestie moment! Next chapter: A look into Ned's past with Ophelia. Please read, review, and rest easy! If we could get this up to 44 reviews, I will give you all virtual cookies! :)