Arabella Baratheon had been through absolute hell and back and then she meets Jon Snow, a bastard boy she couldn't love. But that doesn't mean she didn't love him.
But little does she know meeting him only made things worse for herself.
Will they g...
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The night grew dark and people grew tired. That list of people did not include Arabella Baratheon, she stirred and turned in her sleep constantly, wrecked by the words of her lover, past lover.
The image of Jon and Ygritte plagued her mind and no amount of rest allowed it to disappear, all she wanted to do was forget about him, forget about her.
She stirred once more before accepting the fact the wasn't going to catch any sleep soon, she pushed her body up against the back of the bed sighing deeply.
I love you Arabella Baratheon.
The words replayed over in her mind, taunting her, breaking her piece by piece, until she was nothing but a emotional mess.
She refused to believe that Jon portrayed any feelings towards her, because love wouldn't allow you to sneak off into the night and fuck other women.
She grew accustomed to it with Jaime, but Jon was not Jaime, she didn't want him to be like him, running off into the night. She had left that behind her, but somehow the past always chases her in a never ending war.
She heavily debated staying in her chosen chambers but she needed to find a way to distract her mind and so she grabbed a lit candle and made her way to the library.
The door creaked open and she stepped in glancing around seeing a spot of yellow hair in the distance.
'Hello?" She whispered, the little boy swung around giving her a cheesy smile, Lucas.
"Hello, my lady." He greeted, she smiled back taking a seat by his side noting the small book he was indulged in, slightly surprised the young boy wasn't illiterate.
"What keeps you up at the late hour?" She kindly asked as he closed the book.
"I have a fight tomorrow, M'lady." He explained "The boy is new, he's much older. Some men called it unfair and the others... They just called me foul names."
She frowned gently tracing over the sketch of a sword on the front of the book "Don't be nervous boy, nerves are what get you killed in a real battle, don't let him see it. Be a wolf."
<>
The morning came quick and Arabella's head rested on the table arms folded protecting her head from the wood, her small breaths were noticed as she breathed heavily during her slumber, a slight bit of drool peaked down her chin and her hair was messily spread out among the table, books and parchments surrounded her.
