Chapter 7

"The lion… The lion will eat the stag… The lion will kill the wolf…"

Jon blinked, still half-asleep. He felt a warm body pressed against him under the covers.

"Evil… Blood… Death…"

Jon snapped awake at the sound of Daliya's distressed voice. She was in his bedchamber. In his bed.

"Daliya," he gasped as his eyes adjusted to the dark. How had she gotten here? Ghost, his direwolf, sat silently beside the bed. Normally, Ghost would have alerted him to any intruder, yet Daliya had entered without a sound.

"Bad…" Daliya murmured. "A monster…"

"Who?" Jon asked carefully. "Who is the monster?"

"The prince," she whispered. "Evil… Blood… Death…"

Her mind seemed far away, lost in a nightmare.

"Daliya?" Jon said softly, gently shaking her. "I need you to come back to me."

Jon's voice was soft, but there was urgency in his words as he gently shook Daliya's shoulder. "Daliya, come back," he whispered again, his heart racing. The half-dreamlike state she was in worried him more than he cared to admit.

Her breathing was shallow, her brow furrowed as if she were seeing something terrifying behind her closed eyes. "The lion will kill the wolf…" she murmured again, barely audible, her fingers clutching the blanket as though she was holding on to something fragile.

Jon's heart twisted at her words, the ominous tone sending a chill through him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer in an effort to anchor her to the present. "You're safe," he reassured her quietly. "No lions, no monsters. You're here, with me."

But Daliya's body remained stiff, trapped in her nightmare. "The prince," she murmured again, her voice shaking now. "He's the monster… Blood will spill."

Jon's grip tightened, trying to keep his own rising fear in check. "What prince?" he asked, though he wasn't sure if she'd respond with anything coherent. Her visions were often unclear, fragmented pieces of something larger, and while Jon had grown used to them, they never failed to unsettle him.

"The prince… with the golden hair…" Daliya whispered, her voice almost a sob.

"Daliya," Jon said more firmly this time, his hand gently cupping her face. "You need to wake up. It's just a dream."

Slowly, her breathing started to even out, the tension in her body beginning to ease as his words seemed to reach her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she blinked up at him, her gaze unfocused at first, as though she was still trying to shake the remnants of whatever dark place she had been lost in.

"Jon?" she whispered, her voice small, fragile.

"I'm here," Jon replied softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're safe."

She looked around, as if unsure of her surroundings, before her gaze found his again. "Where… Where are we?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jon had to clear his throat before he managed to reply. "We're in my bedchamber."

"Oh…"

"Can you remember coming here?"

Daliya blinked, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to recall how she'd ended up in Jon's bedchamber. Her eyes were distant, searching through the fog of her mind. "No…" she whispered after a long moment, her voice laced with confusion. "I don't remember."

Jon studied her face, concern etched deeply in his features. He wasn't sure what to make of her being here. "You must have… wandered in," he said softly, though even as he spoke, he wasn't entirely convinced.

"I didn't mean to," Daliya murmured, pulling the covers closer around herself. "I… I don't know what's happening, Jon."

Jon's heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. She seemed so lost, as if her mind was caught between two worlds, the waking one and the one filled with shadows and whispers. "It's alright," he reassured her. "You don't have to explain. You're safe now."

Daliya nodded slowly, though the uncertainty still lingered in her eyes. "The dreams… they keep coming," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I see things… terrible things."

Jon leaned in closer, his gaze steady and reassuring. "What kind of things?"

Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together. "Blood… death… the lion and the wolf… they're all fighting. And the prince, he's at the center of it all. The one with the golden hair."

Jon wasn't sure what to say. Was it possible that these dreams could be something more than dreams? He had always known that Daliya saw things others didn't, but there was something different about this. "Do you know who this prince is?" he asked.

She shook her head. "The blood… the death… It's coming, Jon."

Jon felt a heavy weight settle in his chest, but he didn't let it show. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised firmly.

She didn't say anything else, but the way she leaned into him spoke louder than words.

"May I stay here?" she asked quietly after a moment of silence.

Jon hesitated, knowing that he should escort her back to her own chamber. It was highly inappropriate for them to sleep in the same chamber, not to mention in the same bed. If anyone would find out…

Before Jon managed to decide what to do, he felt Daliya's body relaxing against him. She was asleep.

Jon let out a quiet sigh. Daliya looked so peaceful now, her earlier distress replaced by the calm of sleep. He glanced toward the door, knowing full well what would happen if anyone saw her here, but how could he wake her? After everything she had been through, waking her would only bring her back to those terrible visions.

Ghost, who had been watching silently from the corner, padded over and curled up beside the bed, his presence a quiet reassurance. The direwolf, who normally would have been alert to any disturbance, had allowed Daliya in without a sound.

Jon adjusted the blankets around Daliya, careful not to disturb her as she slept. He knew he couldn't keep her here for long, but for now, he could give her a few hours of peace. The weight of her dreams, of the foreboding sense she carried, still lingered heavily in his mind. The lion and the wolf. The prince with the golden hair.

"Just for tonight," he murmured, trying to convince himself that this was purely a selfless act. He was just taking care of Daliya. He didn't enjoy holding her. Feeling her warmth. The scent of her hair didn't affect him at all. This was wrong. All of it.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear.

Jon's whispered confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion he knew he shouldn't feel but couldn't deny. It was wrong, all of it, the closeness, the way his heart ached for her in ways he tried to suppress. Daliya was vulnerable, lost in her strange dreams and fragile state, and his duty was to protect her. That was all it should have been. Yet, the truth was more complicated than that.

As he looked at her sleeping face, so peaceful now, he wondered how long he could keep pretending that his feelings were only those of a brother. The scent of her hair, the soft rise and fall of her chest, these were details he shouldn't notice. And still, every fiber of his being wanted to hold her, to shield her not only from the nightmares but from the world itself.

Ghost shifted slightly at the foot of the bed, watching Jon with those ever-watchful red eyes, as if sensing the inner turmoil his master was grappling with.

"I'll keep you safe, no matter what," Jon murmured, almost as if he were reminding himself of his true purpose. He stroked a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering a moment longer than they should have.

Just for tonight, he allowed himself this moment of weakness, this stolen tenderness. And as Daliya slept soundly beside him, unaware of the silent battle waging inside Jon, he silently vowed to be her protector, even if it meant fighting against his own heart.

Ned looked at Jon and Robb, the weight of responsibility evident on his face.

"I asked you both here to talk about Daliya," he began, his voice heavy with fatigue. He turned to Jon. "A servant saw her leaving your chamber early this morning."

Jon tensed, fearing this moment ever since last night. "She wandered in after a nightmare. She didn't know what she was doing. I… I didn't send her away because she asked to stay."

"Yes, I believe you," Ned interjected, cutting off Jon's explanation. "That's not the issue. My concern is her wandering into another man's chamber, not understanding what could happen. Even if the man is honorable and returns her safely, what will it do to her reputation?"

"I don't think she'd enter anyone else's chamber," Jon murmured, though the uncertainty weighed on him.

Ned sighed, his expression softening slightly as he considered Jon's words. "I understand, Jon. I know she trusts you. But Daliya is... different. She doesn't always see the world the way others do, and that makes her vulnerable in ways we can't always anticipate." His gaze shifted to Robb, who had been quietly watching the exchange between his father and Jon, his brow furrowed.

"Has she ever wandered into your chamber?" Ned asked.

Robb shook his head. "No, I would have told you or Mother."

Jon pressed his lips together, feeling uncomfortable. "I was just trying to protect her."

"I know," Ned reassured him.

"Father's right, Jon," Robb added. "People talk. We need to protect her, not just physically, but from... misunderstandings." He glanced at Jon, understanding the difficult position his brother was in.

Jon clenched his jaw, his thoughts racing. He knew how innocent Daliya's visit had been, but Ned and Robb were right. In Winterfell, people could take an innocent act and twist it into something far more damaging. His heart ached at the thought of anyone speaking ill of her, or worse, taking advantage of her innocence.

Ned's voice broke through his thoughts. "We need to make sure she's looked after, always accompanied by someone we trust. Whether it's you, Jon, or someone else, she should never be left to wander alone, especially at night."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Jon said quickly, his determination clear. "I won't let anything happen to her."

"I know you won't," Ned replied. "But you can't be with her every moment. That's why we need a plan, a way to make sure she's safe, no matter where she is." He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice heavy with reluctance. "I'm afraid we may have to consider locking her in her chamber at night."

"No," Jon protested immediately, his voice filled with urgency. "You didn't see how upset she was last night. If she had been locked up in her chamber, alone…"

Ned sighed deeply. "I don't want to do that either. But if you have a better suggestion, I'm willing to hear it."

Jon's face was set in frustration, but he understood his father's concern. The idea of locking Daliya in her chamber, even with the intent of keeping her safe, felt wrong to him. Daliya had always been free-spirited, even in her more detached moments. To confine her would be like caging something fragile, something that needed air and space, not restrictions.

Robb broke the silence, his voice thoughtful. "Maybe there's a way to compromise. She doesn't have to be locked up, but we could ensure there's always someone with her. A maid or…"

"They wouldn't be able to calm her," Jon interjected, his tone tense. He felt a surge of frustration, wishing desperately for a way for Daliya to stay with him.

"Jon's right," Robb said slowly, thinking it through. "It can't just be anyone. If she wakes up in a state like she did last night, she needs someone she trusts, someone who knows how to handle it." He hesitated before adding, "But she can't stay in your chamber every night either. People will talk, and… well, it wouldn't be appropriate."

Jon clenched his jaw. "I don't care what people say."

"But Daliya might," Robb pointed out, his voice gentle. "She may not understand everything, but if people start whispering, it'll reach her eventually. And it won't do her any good."

Ned sighed, his hand rubbing his brow as he considered the situation. "Robb is right, Jon. We have to think about what's best for her in the long run. I know you want to protect her, but we need a solution that won't damage her reputation, or yours."

The frustration in Jon's eyes didn't fade, but he nodded, recognizing the truth in his father's words. Still, his mind raced for another way, anything that didn't involve shutting Daliya away or leaving her in the care of someone who wouldn't understand her.

"Maybe…" Jon hesitated, unsure if his next thought would be accepted. "What if she had a room next to mine? Close enough so that I can hear if something's wrong, but separate enough that no one can say anything improper?"

Robb raised an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "That could work. She'd feel safer knowing you're nearby, and if she needs help, you'll be the first one there."

Ned looked between his sons, the suggestion seeming to settle some of the unease that had filled the room. "It's not a perfect solution, but it's better than locking her away or letting her wander," he said slowly. "I'll talk to Catelyn and arrange for Daliya's chamber to be moved. But Jon, you need to be careful. While your concern for Daliya is clear to me, others may not see it that way."

Jon nodded, grateful his father had agreed to the compromise. "I'll make sure nothing happens that would hurt her reputation."

"Good," Ned said firmly. "Then we'll move forward with this plan. But if things change, if she gets worse… we may have to consider other options. For now, let's do what we can to keep her safe, with her dignity intact."

"Jon!" Sansa's tense voice called out. Jon turned and saw her marching toward him, clearly upset.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

Sansa looked at him, anger blazing in her eyes. "I heard you're responsible for Daliya now, so I want you to make her understand that I don't want her anywhere near me."

Jon frowned, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"She embarrassed me in front of everyone!" Sansa snapped, her voice rising. "She touched my face and rambled like a lunatic. She should be locked up!"

Jon's face darkened at Sansa's harsh words, a mixture of frustration and protectiveness flaring within him. "Sansa, she didn't mean any harm," he said, trying to keep his voice calm though anger simmered beneath the surface. "You know Daliya doesn't always understand… everything."

Sansa crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a tight line. "It doesn't matter. She made me look like a fool in front of Lady Dustin and the others. I've had enough of her wandering around and acting like… like that."

"She's part of this family," Jon said, his voice firm but controlled. "And she's struggling. You can't just dismiss her like that."

Sansa's eyes flashed, a mix of hurt and anger still burning. "You don't understand, Jon. Every time I try to make a good impression, she ruins it! People already look at us differently because of her."

Jon stepped closer, his brow furrowing. "And what do you want me to do, Sansa? Lock her away, like you said?"

"Yes! She is insane! Can't you honestly see that? She scares people and she shouldn't be allowed to wander around."

Jon's anger flared at Sansa's harsh words, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Sansa," he said, his voice low and controlled, "she's not insane."

Sansa's expression hardened, her frustration clear as she continued, "She is insane, Jon! She wanders around, says things that don't make sense, and touches people without warning. It's not normal! People talk, and every time she does something like that, it reflects on us. On me."

Jon took a deep breath, his jaw clenched. "Daliya doesn't understand how people see her, but that doesn't mean we should treat her like she's less than us. She needs help, not to be locked away like some prisoner."

"Help her, then. But keep her away from me. I can't afford to be humiliated again."

With that, she turned sharply and walked off.

Jon watched her go, his chest tightening with frustration and anger. He knew Daliya's behavior could be unsettling, even frightening to others, but he would never let anyone lock her away or mistreat her.

After a brief search, Jon found Daliya sitting on the embrasure, as she often did.

"Daliya?" he called gently. "Are you alright?"

She didn't respond, even when he placed a soft hand on her shoulder.

"Daliya? Please, talk to me."

She lowered her gaze, slowly shaking her head. Jon's heart ached as he settled down beside her, waiting patiently for her to speak.

"The whispers… They told me things. Bad things. I tried… They said no one wants to listen. They said people will hurt me if I'm not quiet. No one wants to know."

Jon's heart sank at Daliya's words, hearing the pain in her voice. He could see how deeply troubled she was, haunted by something he couldn't fully understand. The idea of her being trapped in her own mind, alone with these whispers, made his chest tighten with helplessness.

"Daliya," Jon said softly, keeping his voice steady, "I want to listen. You're not alone in this. I don't care what anyone else says, you can always talk to me."

She kept her gaze down, her hands trembling slightly as she fidgeted with the edge of her cloak. "No… they said I shouldn't talk. They said people will hate me. Sansa already hates me."

Jon winced at her words, knowing that Sansa's harshness must have affected her deeply. He reached out and gently took one of her hands in his. "Sansa doesn't hate you, Daliya. She just doesn't understand. She's scared of what she doesn't know. But I'm here, and I'll always listen, no matter what the whispers tell you."

For a long moment, Daliya said nothing. Her eyes, distant and unfocused, seemed to drift elsewhere. Jon sat beside her, waiting patiently, giving her the space she needed.

Finally, she looked at him, her voice fragile. "I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be broken."

"You're not broken," Jon said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "You're different, but that doesn't make you less."

Daliya's eyes filled with tears, and she quickly looked away, trying to hide her emotions. "I don't belong here, Jon."

"You do belong," Jon insisted, squeezing her hand gently.

She blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks. "What if the whispers are right? What if I'm just… too much trouble?"

"They're wrong," Jon said firmly. "I don't care what they say. You are never too much trouble. I'll fight anyone who says otherwise."

Daliya finally looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty but also a flicker of hope. "You'll stay?" she whispered.

"Always," Jon promised. "I'll always be here for you."

He wrapped his arm around her, and felt her relax, even just a little. She rested her head on his shoulder, and they sat there together, in silence, Jon offering her the one thing he knew she needed most, his presence.