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LADY JEYNE
a song of ice and fire — AU ✧
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robb stark — AU
⋆ lady jeyne | xi. the iron price ⋆
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WEEKS SPENT training with a bow and arrow with Robb had consisted of futile efforts, frustrated sighs and intense vexation on the heirs part. He had reminded Jeyne of her father then when Denys was younger and struggled to fight even with wooden swords with the way he was breathing through his nose in irritation with his arms crossed over his chest in crossness. As he pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly, Jeyne had decided she had enough of his high hand.
"That's it! I've had enough, I am not doing this anymore." Jeyne huffed, blowing the few strands of hair that fallen from her clips from her face as she threw the bow to the ground.
"Jeyne, where are you going?" Robb yelled after the kind girl he had pushed to the brink of annoyance while she hurried away. Lifting the ends of her dress to free them from the muddy escapades below her feet, Jeyne shouted back with a tinge of anger in her voice. "To find Arya and Jon!"
"I am certain they will not scream at me for things I cannot do!"
Robb scoffed arrogantly in return, kicking at the scattered leaves in return.
Staying true to her word, Jeyne was now in the company of her most trusted confidants. Jon and Arya shared a look of curiosity with their eyebrows raised while the girl in front of them picked at the food on her tray sporting a deep frown. It did not take much searching on her part to find them, it was time for dinner after all and although she was not hungry she gravitated towards the smell of fresh pastries in the Great Hall anyways and fittingly enough the Starks she searched for were there.
"Care to tell us what has you looking so unhappy?" Jon questioned to which he was responded to with green eyes darkened when they shifted to meet his gaze.
"Your brother." Jeyne bit, grinding her teeth in agitation as her lips had practically been chewed off.
"Apart from Jon, I have three other ones." Arya stated dumbly, "Could you be more specific." Jeyne shot her a plain look. "Is it Robb?"
"No, it is Bran." Jon replied to her, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "Of course it is Robb, Arya." He tapped Jeyne gentle on the arm to gain her attention again, offering her a pitiful smile. "What happened?"
"I could not shoot the stupid arrow at the mark." Jeyne sighed, pressing her hot cheeks into the palm of her hand. "He has been helping me so much to do it and I... even though he was getting tired of me, I should not have snapped at him." She said regretfully while she mulled over the way she had spoken back to him, hardly the way a lady should speak to the boy she was promised to. Not much of a promise I am.
"If he was getting annoyed enough to get you of all people to snap then it is him that should feel guilty." Arya told her firmly, nudging Jon to back her who only winced and offered a weak nod of agreement. Jeyne thought it was sweet actually that he did not want to badmouth his brother.
"I think he already does," Jon defended. "Robb is not one to be mean, especially to girls."
"Well he was mean to Jeyne and he should say sorry." Arya stated bluntly, her face taking an affirmed expression.
"I do not need him to say sorry." Jeyne replied to her, Arya rolling her eyes most unimpressed with how easily she had rolled over.
"He needs to say sorry, promise me you will at least pretend to be angry."
"I admitted I should not have raised my voice, that is something a lady should never do..." Jeyne said gently. "I never said I wasn't still the least bit annoyed." Jon cocked an eyebrow at that, his lips twitching as he kept his mirth over the situation at bay. "If you do not want him to say sorry but you are still upset—" Jon quickly corrected as he saw the Redwyne's girl pink mouth open, "the least bit annoyed, then what exactly is my brother to do."
Jeyne scoffed, shoving a spoonful of bean soup into her mouth. "I just don't want to shoot any more arrows. It is mortifying how bad I am at it."
"Sansa can't shoot arrows either." Arya shrugged.
"I'm sure if she wanted to and tried as much as I had, she would have shot one long ago."
"Sansa would much rather spend her time sewing and singing, activities occupied by men are not something she would like do." Jon countered, speaking so fondly of the sister who hardly acknowledged him.
"Speaking of the activities of men, shall we go to the kitchen?" Jeyne said, perking up slightly at the thought of seeing Myrah and Gage and the cooks daughter.
It struck Jon as peculiar yet amusing how natural it came to Jeyne to wash the unclean pots they ate out of and dusting down the residue flour of the cooking surfaces. "I do think in your previous life you were a maid or a cook." The boy joked eliciting a smile from Jeyne which had his heart hammering in her chest. It did not help when she shook her head at him in the way she always did, her hair tied up for the sake of cleanliness revealing her delicate smooth neck.
"I would like to think I was a singer," Jeyne hummed in return, running the soap over the glass dish she was scrubbing to the point of pristine and polish. "That is if I even believed in old lives."
"You believe there are seven gods but you doubt that we could have more than one life?" Jon asked her, drying his own hands on the towel. He had found himself in these kitchens in the few months since he had become acquainted with the Redwyne girl than the entirety of the rest of his life in Winterfell.
Raising the wooden spoon engulfed by bubbles and drenched in droplets of water, Jeyne craned her neck to look at him. "Do you think life would be so precious if we were granted more than one?"
"I have multiple brothers and sisters, they are all just as precious to me." Jon pointed out, a quizzical look on his face at the girls viewpoint.
"Yet we only ever have one mother and father."
"Some don't even have that." Jon laughed dryly sporting a half smile while he tried to brush away the ache he had bought upon himself with those words. Jeyne dropped the plate in her hand like it was nothing, wincing as it made a clattering noise against the other dishes in the sink. "I did not mean it like that." She replied with her eyebrows furrowed and apology etched all over her face, staring at him with the deepest of sympathies.
"I wasn't even talking about me." Jon offered lamely as he shrugged in attempt at nonchalance.
"Whoever your mother may be... I feel sorry for her."
"Why?" Jon questioned incredulously although the crack in his voice gave hint that he was curious into Jeyne's theories.
"You have grown to be the finest of gentleman," Jeyne stated as if it was the most obvious thing, her lips contorting into their usual pout at the fact he did not seem to notice what she did. "I think she is very unlucky she never got to know you."
Resolute in silence for a few moments, Jon's shoulders deflated slightly and Jeyne was subject to his teary eyes and poor but sweet attempts at a smile.
"I never knew mine either." Myrah piped up from the corner of the kitchen she was packing away the fresh fruits in preparation for tomorrows meal. That was all the life of a serving girl was, feeding the highborn and then cleaning away the mess made in the name of their thirsts being quenched and bellies being full only to do the same the next day and the day after that and the day after that and so on. "She died having me."
She had entirely captured the attention of Jeyne and Jon as they remained wholly focused on her with gazes so penetrating they could even melt down the wall.
"Do you have any sisters?" Jeyne asked her, a lame attempt at consoling her as if that would make it any better.
"No. It's just me now. Has been for a while." Myrah replied indifferently, like the loneliness did not gnaw at her how it would Jeyne if she had no family. "My father took ill a few years ago and the Gods thought it best to put him out of misery. These Starks are all I have."
Jon looked sadly to her. "Your father was a good man."
She looked to him with the most emotion, still little, in her eyes that Jeyne had ever seen as if there was a glint in her rejuvenated at the mention of her father as if he lived on even in memory. "He was, wasn't he." She hummed before she returned to her duties, busying herself and removing herself from the conversation to not permit the intrusive thoughts she never did let prevail that only ever left her sad. In that time, something picked at Jon's mind.
"Do you ever wish you knew yours?" Jon asked Jeyne. "Your mother." He promoted and pushed.
Her figure tended suddenly, even the honey gold and pale pink crown of flowers threaded atop her head into her fine silky mane had stiffened at the question. "I know my mother, Lady Denyse Neè Hightower Redwyne." Jeyne replied defensively but with no traces of impoliteness and Jon would not have been surprised if thorns had grown from the roses in her hair to thwart away what he had said.
"I am not saying she is not your moth—"
"The what exactly are you saying Jon?" Jeyne retorted, the speed of her voice getting more agile at sensitive issues she would rather not be broached.
"Arya said I would be able to find you here." As if he had transpired out of thin air, Robb stood in the arch of the kitchen having flung the door open as tension split the air. Glancing between the heated green irises of Jeyne and the dull grey ones of his brother, Robb frowned in apprehension. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Not at all." Jon said untruthfully. Jeyne was avoiding his gaze now as her eyes had shifted to the tiles of the floor and her hand holding the cloth she intended to dry the freshly washed dishes even though some utensils among other cutlery still remained in the gush of water. Jon sighed in defeat, realising he was not going to be able to pry any information or true feelings out of the girl, patting his brother on the shoulder supportively. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one whose annoyed the nicest lady in the world today."
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robb stark — AU
⋆ lady jeyne | xi. the iron price ⋆
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TAKING HER HAND sweetly to appease her, Jeyne turned her face to Robb gently for him to be met with cupid bow lips curved downwards into a frown and a forehead littered with creases from furrowed brows. Looking at him momentarily, her face had softened (not as though it was capable of being stoic enough in the first place) but the frown had not fallen and she returned her gaze to the hand that was still moulding the dough into shape. The blue-eyed boy sighed but not tiredly, grabbing her other hand as she reluctantly shifted on her feet until her entire body was facing him.
"I am sorry, Jeyne Grace."
Her cheeks were tinged pink. For once, however, the blood pumping to her face had risen from frustration with the pair of Northen brothers instead of shyness. Wiping away the sweat that had matted on her forehead, Jeyne blew a strand of her hair that had escaped the net and stuck down to it too. "You do not need to be sorry." She said timidly, avoiding meeting his eyes with her own. "I should not have stormed off like a petulant child."
Robb laughed endearingly at that, as though he was besotted with Jeyne's antics but she knew that to be far from the truth. He was beautiful. He was so beautiful that it stung, he was so beautiful that it actually hurt. She allowed herself to cast her green irises on the sight of him then, inhaling a sharp breath at the happiness that etched into every crevice of his face. From the bouncy curls atop his head to the vibrancy in his eyes to the bridge of his nose and to the glee his smile was gladden in, she grew scared her misery would afflict him one day. "I was screaming at you as though you were one," Robb pointed out with amusement, "it was only fair."
He earned a warmer grin at that. "Believe me, I do wish I could do this one thing you want of me but it seems I am as inept in archery as I am sewing." Robb's teeth were on display and he could've sworn if he grinned any harder, his face would split into two. "There is one thing you weren't so inept in."
Jeyne hummed curiously as she bit her lip to contain her own foolishly girlish smile. "And what would that be?"
"Punching Theon in the jaw." He beamed, no trace of abashment in his words as Jeyne scowled and snatched her hands away from his. Her previous frown had returned while she began kneading the dough much more ferociously than before, mind racing with the unforgivable ideas of doing the same to him and his brother. No one had approached the subject, albeit Denys and Maegelle who had come into her chambers cheering and congratulating her as though she had just been crowned queen, due to her regret over it. "Oh Jeyne I was jesting," he chuckled, though his laughter turned into a groan as he was once again subject to her quietness. "Jeyne Grace, he deserved it anyways. You needn't be so ashamed. I know that Jon and Arya have been particularly enjoying watching Theon sulking about with a bruised cheek."
When the Redwyne girl didn't reply, Robb nudged her playfully. "Jeyne." She ignored him again. "Jeyne." He nudged again, "Jeyne." "Jeyne," He drawled out, before he crouched down, his lips so close to her ears it sent an array of shivers down her spine. "Are you going to punch me too?" Robb quipped again, laughing obnoxiously to which she glared at him. She was awfully sensitive and temperamental this day she noted, hence why perhaps she slapped the perfectly rounded dough right onto his cheek. Her green eyes widened as soon as what she had done registered and with a gasp, her hands were at her mouth while her mind raced with appropriate apologies to mutter. At least, that is what Jeyne intended for her reaction to be; for, as her gaze fell onto the moist powder splattered on one half of his already pale face, she had erupted into laughter. Her childish titters escaped through the gaps between her fingers, "I am so— ss— sor— sorry." Jeyne had choked out, her ample cheeks so red and so high up that they hurt and her brows so distanced from her green eyes glistening with joy.
"Amused, are you?" Robb said with a shake of his head, feigning a seriousness that Jeyne could see past when the corners of his lips quirked up briefly. "Very." The Redwyne girl hummed with a confident nod of her head. "Let us see if you find this as funny." Robb muttered, a mischievous glint in his gaze as he approached his soon to be betrothed with no warning. It happened too quick. The remaining dough that had been gathered on the counter before them was now lathered into her fringe as well as the frowns from her forehead and had red cheeks turned white as snow and lips devoid of pinkness. Jeyne gaped at him, trickles of dough slipping into her mouth. "Robb!" She shrieked, all the while the heir was only hunched over in amusement as his infuriatingly deep chuckles were all she could hear.
Running her slender fingers through her hair, she whispered a silent prayer to the gods that she had given Jon Snow her mothers precious rings to care for and they were now safely tucked away in his pocket and not trifling through raw batter as she pulled off the net and let her mahogany tresses roam free. Jeyne felt a pang of guilt the moment her thankfulness had dimmed away in remembrance of how she had essentially shooed the already lonely boy away in her bouts of unfounded sensitivity. Here I am, so hurt that it was not my mother who bore me when he has no woman to call his own.
Groaning slightly as she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in thought, Jeyne had not realised how the chuckles had faded away. She lifted her eyelids to reveal Robb before her, frowning while he wiped the batter from his face to perhaps not be taken for a fool. He came closer to her, breath almost hitching in his throat at how pretty she looked with her hair down and cascading past her breasts to her waist. Robb quickly dismissed that line of thinking, biting down on his lip in regret as he saw the worried expression that had etched its way onto Jeyne. "I didn't mean to upset you." He said, casting his gaze to the floor as a sullen look stole the previous enjoyment from his face. Jeyne hated that. "Oh no, no, no, Robb!" She spluttered, bridging the gap between them as she rested one of her hands on his arm comfortingly. "I was fretting over something else, I promise." Jeyne smiled sweetly at him, Robb looking at her unsurely with the slight stubble growing at his chin coated in what could have been pastries or bread. "Are you certain Jeyne Grace?" She nodded with a laugh, wondering what a pair of madmen the sight must seem to any onlookers. At that, he grinned widely, any traces of shyness having fallen away as a cocky demeanour reappeared. Robb shook off the soft hand that's weight was nothing but touch was scorching, wasting no time in embracing her velvety skin with his own calloused hands. His palms were squished against Jeyne's cheeks that were now so crimson they rose through the whiteness of the dough staining the canvas home to siren emerald eyes which widened in disbelief. Traces of smugness lined his lips as he neared her, staring intensely as he scoured her face for any hint of reciprocation maybe, running his tongue over his bottom lip before he sighed, sucking it into his teeth. His fingers had extended to Jeyne's high cheekbones, his thumb stroking her face softly as he smiled at her before he leant in and settled for a sweet kiss on her nose.
Her eyes were wet with the endearment he had seen shine before for Jon, though Robb supposed that was only wishful thinking. "I don't like it when you're angry at me," he muttered and the lowness in his voice made him as delicate as satin and Jeyne felt that she was putty in his hands. "I'm not angry at you." She croaked out, Robb only bumping his nose against the flower-infatuated girl as his body shook with silent chuckles at the tremor in her words.
"Gage will not be pleased." Myrah piped up, her lips pulled into a grimace, causing Robb to pull away from Jeyne as they lamented over the wasted food.
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viii. | the iron price!
LADY JEYNE — a tale of tully blue
& the green of lys
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IF IT WERE THIS EFFORTLESS FOR ROBB to talk her into this, then Jeyne would be damned a fool once she were the Northen heirs wife. Somehow between cleaning up the mess they had made in the kitchens and garbing themselves in fresh attire, Tully blue had convinced her with his charming accent and sweet nothings to return to the courtyard with a bow and arrow in her frail hands. Only this time, having pleaded with her so kindly by pressing another daring kiss to her nose like friends do, the Redwyne child was with an audience.
Heart racing like a horse through the fields, Jeyne pulled her lips into a thin line and fiddling with the position of her fingers along the string. Though her dominant eye should have been looking straight down the arrow and aligning it with the target, it was instead wavering between Denys and Maegelle offering her thumbs raised in encouragement to Robb stood back with his arms crossed over his chest cockily.
"Must I do this?" Jeyne announced suddenly with a sigh, dropping her arm-wielding bow to her side.
Her brother and sister groaned as they threw their hands in their hand, having gone back and forth with this discussion over the time they had graced the courtyard of the Stark's with their presence. Arya mimicked then in their actions, even Jon and Robb's other younger brothers emulating tiny sighs as if they had grown tired.
Jeyne hated to make people tired of her.
Without a second thought, the flower-loving and archery-despising Redwyne levelled her gaze and the arrow to the target and let it soar through the air. The wooden stick pierced through the air and straight to the board, missing the centred mark by just an inch but that was more than enough for Jeyne. Collective cheers erupted throughout her company and Jeyne gasped in delight, her cheeks outstretching so much they could burst and the corners of her eyes crinkling in euphoria.
It was Robb she ran to first, throwing her arms around his neck before she could comprehend what she doing, his hands rushing to her waist to spin her around in an similar expression of excitement. He set her down then, patting the wild loose strands of hair that had snuck out of it's otherwise perfectly kept style. Jeyne's grin had not subdued in the slightest, nor was it going to, and her breaths were ragged and erratic from all the thrill that rushed to her longs. The sight enticed a chuckle from Robb who watched her with entertainment, "Easy there Jeyne." He commented lowly, eyebrows raising in further mirth as the usually timid girl gripped his arms tightly without a car. "Oh oh oh I did it! I did it Robb, did you see? It landed right on the mark!"
The blue-eyed heir laughed quietly, nodding his head, following her every move as she ran from him to her brother and sister to share her success. With a shake of his head, he was pleased to see Jeyne was blossoming into the most fruitful flower of the season and with that, so was the strength of his relation with her.
If Robb had tore his gaze away from the Redwyne girl and turned his head to his half brother— which by the mercy of the gods he did not— he would have seen the raven-haired boys gaze of reverence mirrored his own.
authors note: woooh, a whopping seven months later!!! i apologise for the lateness but it's time to get out of my lady jeyne slump and complete chapter one <3 i can't wait to come back and revamp this whole book in terms of the layout and aesthetics and even some of the writing when part one is completed! guys i literally have had the next two chapters pre-written for so long but this chapter was so difficult to write in for some reason. it was just lacking that ebb and flow but i've done the best i can and i hope you can enjoy it espc considering how long i've made you wait. pls forgive me <3 i was on a volunteer programme for two months in South Africa and then when i came back life has just been so crazy and hectic but hey i have tons of new work coming out soon and this book is going to be one of my priorities so dw lots more of jeyne and robb and jon ;)
UNEDITED.
P.S: if you're a teen wolf fan, make sure to check out my new stiles stilinski fic called the favourite crime :)
ON A MORE IMPORTANT NOTE:
FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🇵🇸🍉