╔════════════╗ LADY JEYNE a song of ice and fire — AU ✧ ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
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"I DON'T KNOW HOW I always let you talk me into these things."
In all the time Jeyne had been in Winterfell, aside from the bastard son of Eddard Stark, little Arya had been her dearest friend in this place. To most their closest confidant being a child of nine would be unsettling at the very least but Jeyne found nothing strange about it. Thus why she was snooping around in Robb's chambers whilst the boys were away on a hunt, one that Denys had been itching for. It was more of an assist to Arya's search for well whatever it was she was looking for, Jeyne hadn't been listening to her much while she had instead been admiring Jon as he practised with his sword. Arya had hit her arm and told her to stop ogling at her brother like that. Claimed it was the wrong brother.
"You're not even helping me!" Arya exclaimed annoyedly from where she stood, her hair dangling in loose messy plaits.
"I don't even know what you're looking for." Jeyne replied, sitting prettily at the end of Robb's bed with her silk locks cascading down to her waist, the tiniest bit of fringe pinned around her head freeing her hair from the usual gem embedded hairnets and and flower bunches.
"I told you only a hundred times." Arya sighed. "I'm looking for Robb's dagger, the one with a wolf on the hem."
"What do you need that for?"
"Well I want to keep it."
Jeyne looked to her pointedly and Arya did not even have to meet her eye to know that they would be scolding and reprimanding. "Arya, you cannot steal/thieve from your older brother. That is not fair." She chastised her, crossing her arms over her chest in a reprimanding manner.
"He has so many Jeyne he won't even miss it, I promise." The little wolf girl said pleadingly, hoping to convince her to help find it as she approached her with beseeching eyes.
"Oh how can I say no when you make those eyes at me." Jeyne huffed as she got up in a reluctant agreement to scour her betrotheds room. She had a bundle of grapes she left on his wooden desk that she plucked from the vines now and ate as she loitered about the place, not particularly how fond of how messy the man she would one day be sharing her quarters with. "Is his room always this...disorganised?" Jeyne questioned in distaste, scanning the array of unfolded clothes in the corner, a half full cup on the windowsill and pillows littered about the room.
