A/N: In this, Jojen is actually older than Meera (sorry I didn't know I was spelling her name wrong yikes) and is the heir and the oldest. He's probably about nineteen. Also this is like... WAY before he goes out to find Bran. I might do a part two for that happening and hoe things might go down with him dying and stuff. This is just some angst with insecurity and past trauma and mostly just fluff and so very many words that are all self indulgent cause I need someone to love me despite some SHIT in my past, ya know? Lol enjoy.
Now what we were alone, I was nervous. This had finally just set in. I was married. And alone. With my husband. Who I didn't know. On the first night of our marriage. Expected to... consecrate our marriage.
When the bed sunk, I flinched. "Sorry," Jojen whispered, freezing. When I didn't respond, he sighed. "Would you like the bed to yourself for the night?" Surprised, I looked back. He was looking at the floor, as if trying to picture the set up he could put together in order to make it comfortable. When I kept looking and he finally realized I was, he looked up at me and our eyes locked. Well then. I mean, at least he was handsome. Around my age. My mother had raved about how lucky I was. In addition, he was a gentlemen too, obviously.
A nervous smile rested on my lips. "You don't have to. Might as well get used to... this." Jojen settled on a frown as he slipped under the covers and my heart fell. He hadn't smiled once since this ceremony had happened. I had met him only once before today but I had yet to see him crack even a fraction of a smile. He was so serious. I was so cheery and positive and light hearted and hopeful. How would we ever get along? Or, perhaps, he usually was very light hearted and cheery. Perhaps it was just the being married to me that had turned him somber. Maybe I was annoying. Perhaps I wasn't pretty or good enough to truly deserve the man that was now in my bed, expected to be married to me in the way two people are when they are married. Maybe he was in love with someone else and now that I was here, he could only find reason to be miserable and annoyed. Maybe he didn't mind me. Maybe I was good. But... not good enough.
My thoughts turned, my stomach following suit. I felt exposed and small and awkward and as I pulled the covers over myself as well, I sunk into the mattress and turned my back to him so he wouldn't see my face and how upset I was. He might blame himself, or get mad at me when I had insisted he be in the bed even though it seemed like I didn't want him to be. Closing my eyes, I forced my body to relax and my mind to still as the aching in my chest increased. I would have to get used to this. This handsome, somber boy my age who was my husband and this dull, too quiet house that was mine. Hm.
I fell asleep the first night uneasy.
It was dark. There was the sound of a curtain being pulled and I blinked rapidly as harsh light filled the room. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change, I looked around and took everything in. It was a big room, spacial but well decorated too so that it felt nice to be in. Cheery with golden, deep yellows and soft, light reds and pastel oranges.
My eyes wandered, landing far too quickly for my liking on the only other person in the room. Jojen. My heart stopped. He looked amazing. He was standing tall, smiling, his hair that wonderfully placed messy that made you want to run your hands through it. He was decked in a soft-looking brown, thick coat and his eyes were bright and full of life. And his smile... It light up the room, making the warm colors seem to exude heat and the room became even happier. His smile, which drew me in and was incredibly contagious and handsome and... sexy.
As I went to take a step toward him, I suddenly froze. My eyes traveled to a sudden, new person. Another human in this room. She was stunning. Long, raven black hair that was pinned elegantly. She was well shaped and smiling in a most glorious way. She touched him, her hand gliding over his arm in a flirty, fleeting way that his eye followed, a smirk rising to his lips. She fit this room, wearing gold and purple and making my jaw loosen of its own accord. Suddenly, I was outside of the room. I pressed my nose to the cold of frozen glass, my hot breath fogging up the view of my wonderfully handsome husband with a woman of the kind of beauty I could never even dream of achieving.
My eyes fell and I looked down at myself. My feet were bare, sinking into the freezing snow but long since too numb to feel it. My dress was ragged and a dingy tannish-cream color. My skin was chapped and dry, frostbitten and a sickly pale where I could see my veins through it. I was so far away from the warmth and the beauty of the people in the room. Far from Jojen and the kind of woman who deserved to be with him.
Closing my eyes, I fell to my knees and started crying. This was it. This was my truth.
I wasn't good enough. I wasn't even good. I never would be.
My eyes shot open and I shivered, pulling the blankets closer. I was covered in sweat but chills rose on my skin as the cold of the room hit any exposed skin with no mercy, mocking me with the feeling of the dream that still clung to me, taunting and reminding me of my faults and insecurities. Honestly scared, I slowly turned around, trying to move the bed as slowly as possible.
It was empty.
I lay on my back, eyes closed as my shoulders shook and I cried. I was such a cry baby, wow. Of course he woke up early and got out of here and away from me as soon as he could. Of course he busied himself. With a wife like me... who wouldn't?
-
Eating slowly, I enjoyed the warmth of the soup and bread that had been made for me. I closed my eyes and relaxed in my chair, a sigh moving out of my nose as the wonderful warmth I swallowed moved through my body, warming me from the inside out. The room as warm and I'd been inside all day- but the dream still had my insides frozen.
A noise startled me. I opened my eyes and looked over. "Oh. Jojen." I hadn't seen him all day, since last night actually. He came into the room, paused to look at me, and then nodded without saying anything, a neutral expression on his face. His smile from my dream popped into my head and I closed my eyes for a second as a pang ran through my chest, settling awkwardly in my stomach. I was quick to reopen them and force a small smile though. Not that he was looking. He took a seat at the opposite side of the table, the head, and put down a bowl of soup topped with a piece of bread. Huh. I guess I hadn't noticed him carrying it. The rest of dinner was spent in uneasy, awkward silence as we ate our food as quietly as possible. The one time I did look at my husband, he was glaring at his food, his mind working so hard I could see it in his eyes, at a fair distance.
My husband.
Hm. Didn't much seem like it.
Anger boiling in my chest at this horrendous situation that I should be so much more thankful for than I was, I stood. My hands wrapped around my bowl so tightly that my knuckles turned white and I turned sharply, exiting the room. I brought my dishes to the kitchen, where the maid in there took them with a bow that made me feel a little odd to clean them for me. I suppose this house didn't work like mine had.
Leaving, I made my way to wander the sizable place where I now lived. It was big enough that in my tired state at this already late hour, I didn't get to even half of it. I resigned myself to go to my room with a heavy heart. I couldn't drag it on anymore without being obvious. To be so obvious would be rude, and he didn't deserve that. I was already ugly and weak- I didn't have to be a brat about him not loving me on top of that. If anything, he was the victim. When I came in, he was waiting for me. He sat on the bed, his eyes on his hands which were clasped between his legs. Upon my entry, he looked up. I paused. "Hello," I greeted, unsure.
He nodded but then paused. "Good evening." His voice was thick and rough, like he was forcing friendliness. It made me angrier for some reason. This is where I ended. After all my daydreams and heartfilled hopes and long prayers at night. I was reduced to a gorgeous husband who could only barely tolerate my plainness. Honestly, how selfish of me to complain.
Quiet stretched on until I finally sighed, shaking my head. "Did you-" I began.
"Did I do something to anger you?" Our eyes locked and my heart stopped again, but this time in surprise rather than the heartache that was growing all too familiar. My insides warmed and my heart slowly came to life again as I took in his concern and worry. The thought of having angered me really upset him...
Silly me. I'd upset him. Sighing, I moved to his side, sitting on the bed as he did, with my hands clasped between my legs. "No," I admitted. "Nothing you've done really."
He pursed his lips, looking over at me. Feeling his gaze, I looked as well. Wow. We were so close. It was quite nice. "I..." He stopped. "I hope this gets better. For you."
My heart sunk a bit. "It's quite amazing actually." I offered a weak smile. "This place. You. All more than I could have ever realistically wished for, and it's mine. Honestly."
Jojen seemed about to ask a question, but then he just nodded and stood. "Good, I'm glad. I'm going to go to bed now. Would you like me to join you again? You seemed uncomfortable last night..."
A small chuckle escaped me. "I wouldn't mind at all if you did." For a split second, I thought I saw him smile. Maybe just the ghost of one. But no. He was serious again, moving away to change into his night clothes out of my sight. I followed his example, getting off the bed once he was done and returning. Once I was done and had found myself on my side, under the sheets as the night before, I found myself a bit more relaxed. I believe he was a good man. I trusted him and I considered him a gentleman, which means that he was good to be around even if we were simply just acquaintances at the moment. I fell asleep more more easily.
-
A week and a half passed of a routine. I would wake up cold, to an empty bed. During the day, I would explore every nook and cranny, multiple times, memorizing the place inch by inch. I wouldn't see Jojen at all until dinner, where we would sit in a quiet that got a little more comfortable and natural as time passed. At night, we would prepare for bed separately and then sleep together, respectively distanced. By the time the week and a half passed it had grown only too easy and familiar to have Jojen sleeping behind me that it was a saddening thing to wake up to him being gone.
The last half of that second week, things changed a little. Just as I got used to never seeing him as much as I wanted to, I would wake up to him leaving instead of him already being gone. He would wish me a good morning, give a nod, and then leave, and I would see him just for that split second in the morning. At dinner, he would ask about my day and when he found out about my exploration, he would pull things out of me until I was excitedly ranting and rambling, hands moving and a grin on my face. It was beautiful here... At night, he would ask how I was settling in and his question of whether or not he wished me to have the bed to myself fell away and was forgotten.
Towards the beginning of the third week, he started to linger. He would ask me how I slept the night before and I would ask him in return. I stopped exploring and settled in the library, beginning to read random books I found even mildly interesting. I would sit in a char by the window and every few hours or so he would walk the grounds within sight. I wondered if he simply spent these days walking around the grounds, avoiding me. Or maybe just giving me my space. He showed up to lunches too. Lunch became the time to talk about our days, where he always kept the focus on me. Dinners were for winding down and comfortable, warm silence.
Just as I was settling into this wonderful bit of presence, Jojen took the fourth week to even come to breakfasts. We would talk in the mornings, where I would tell him about my dreams- which, along the way- had become more about the house and having adventures than about me never being good enough for Jojen and him having a mistresses because of it. He started to show up in the house, popping into the library irregularly. When he realized I could see him walking from my window, he blushed. I didn't ask questions, though. Not yet. He did begin waving to me every time he'd pass my window though. I'd smile, knowing he couldn't see me, and give a little wave back. And, ever so gradually, his dark and stoic expression turned to one of peace, serenity, and comfort. Not the smile I still so clearly remembered while the other details of that nightmare melted away like warmed butter, but the pleasant ghost of a grin.
Finally, month one was over. I'd been married a month and I was only just becoming friends with my spouse. I realized I'd been driving him to make all the moves and I wondered if maybe he thought I just didn't want him around. If maybe all of my insecurities had been echoed inside of him as well. If that was any kind of true, he'd really put himself out there, testing the waters and easing himself into my everyday life.
Well. I suppose it was my turn then.
One morning I had the most wonderful pleasure of waking up before him.
Unable to help myself, I just lay and stared at him. He always seemed to be mid-twenties before, with that poise and practiced wisdom and control. The things he said the few times he said anything. The way he looked at me and walked next to me and even got up in the morning. He had always seemed so much older. I was barely eighteen myself... Yet, laying here and looking at him, he looked my age. Maybe even younger, which started me. His face was relaxed and soft, the frown completely gone and turned in instead for the most peaceful expression I'd ever seen on a person's face. His hair was messy in such an unorganized, chaotic way that it made me chuckle lightly. The sun was rising behind me and I saw how he woke up every morning. The rays were sharp and hard and would most certainly dig into his eyes until he couldn't take it anymore. Being careful not to move him too much, I got out of bed. I closed the curtains, drawing them so the sun would be blocked from entering the room. Jojen settled into the bed more, as if he knew what I'd done and was grateful for more time to sleep.
After changing, I made my way downstairs. I found a few servants in the kitchen, all of whom were surprised to see me but overjoyed to see me so happy. I convinced them to let me help make breakfast and they slowed down for me as I requested them to let me do as much of the work as possible. They seemed willing to let me do things. I guess it meant more time for them to do other things... When Marie and Alija - the servants, as I learned their names - helped me finish things up, they assured me they would wake the Master (Jojen, I easily assumed).
Marie grinned. "Your help was most appreciated, My Lady."
"I just wanted to do something special for Jojen," I sighed. "I'm useless for basically anything else. I can't build or craft, even as a woman ought to..." I rubbed the back of my neck.
Alija touched my shoulder and I smiled at her. This was a lot more like home now. "I could sit down and teach you women crafts if you wish. Sewing, croquetting, and others. If you so wish."
My heart warmed and it must have showed on my face because Alija grinned wider. "I would love that," I gushed quietly.
Marie laughed. "There will be time for that later. Go get cleaned and we will wake the Master after you have finished so that we may present the prepared meal to him together, as we made it."
I was excited now. I rushed up to our room, getting to the washing quarters to see Liana and Reilyn - more servants, whose names I'd learned from Marie - drawing a bath for me. They were two others who had helped me this morning and were the only ones I knew well before today, after seeing them around the house occasionally and striking up conversation up with them. I felt bad that I'd only just learned their names but they had forgiven me easily enough, assuring me that I had been internally focused for the last month and that they understood my distractedness.
After they left, I stripped down and sunk into the perfectly warmed water. I put my arms on the sides of the tub, closing my eyes and grinning. I was so happy that I couldn't possibly contain it all. I couldn't imagine being happier.
A door opened, knocking me out of my head space, and I opened my eyes just in time to see Jojen walk in, half asleep and kind of stumbling. He moved close enough to see all of me and I froze, unsure what to do. He had taken me by surprise and it didn't make any sense at all to hide my body from my husband, who should have already seen it plenty of times anyway. "What time is...?" He paused, his tired gaze falling across my exposed body underneath the clear water. His face relaxed from the confused glare he'd worn before and my face heated up. Finally, he found my face, and it seemed to register finally. His eyes went wide and he shook his head, forcing his stumbling mind to catch up as he spun around. "I- I'm so sorry I- I didn't know you were in here. I- I-"
His awkwardness threw me off and I curled into a ball, hiding myself s best I could. "I-it really isn't that big of a problem," I mumbled.
Jojen either didn't hear me or didn't process my words. Stumbling and stuttering, he left the room, apologizing and tripping over himself and his words in a way that was almost... cute. When he left and it sunk in what had just happened, I burst into high pitched giggles. My face burned hotter than it ever had before but I was grinning from ear to ear.
It was strange. I didn't mind him seeing me. It was new and kind of surprising, considering his reaction even though we were married and the newness of it all. But I didn't mind him seeing me naked specifically. Hm. Maybe this marriage would work out after all.
After my bath, I dressed and entered the main room. He was dressed as well, sitting on the bed and avoiding my eyes. I smiled, moving to him. I gently touched his chin, pulling his eyes to meet mine. "I really don't mind Jojen. You're my husband. We're married and live together. It had to happen eventually."
Jojen was still warm and his eyes stayed on me, as if taking me in. I blushed myself, our pink skin matching. His was warmth to the touch and my hand hovered, not wanting to move away. After a second, he softly leaned into the touch. I smiled wider. "Okay."
Finally stepping away, I put my hands behind my back. "I figure I'd let you sleep in today," I told him, motioning to the curtains."
"I'll have to thank you for that," he returned softly.
I shook my head. "It was my pleasure. You're pretty when you sleep." His eyes widened and I giggled. Turning away, I headed towards the door. "Something special is being served for breakfast today. You should hurry or you'll miss out. I'm hungry and won't wait any longer." He breezed passed me and I kick started into a sprint alongside him. We were racing, laughter broken by heavy breathing ringing through the halls as we ran as hard as we could. Jojen ended up winning as we busted into the dining hall, him skidding to a halt, nearly ramming into the far wall as I slowed and paused, resting my hands on my knees.
My eyes rose to see that he was looking at me. His chest moved quickly and he was relaxed, laughing softly. His face was colored with rushing blood and his eyes were alight with life. He grinned. "So what's this I hear about a special breakfast? You should know I only ever run for food." I was speechless. It was the exact image from my dream. He was dressed different;y, but his hair was a little messy and he was grinning, the sunlight through the window next to him highlighting every imperfection he didn't have. He looked absolutely breathtaking. "Y/n? Are you okay?"
I cleared my throat, looking away. My chest felt funny. What was up with that? "With help, I made breakfast today!" I opened the door leading to the kitchen, motioning Alija and Marie. They brought some trays in, setting them on the table before pulling the tops to reveal a very simple breakfast: homemade bread, with eggs and bacon. There were potatoes and sauce. I raced into the kitchen to grab the pitcher of juice, setting it down along with the others. "I, uh, don't know how to cook so we had to make simple things since I took ages to learn anything and we only had a little time. It's nothing fancy but I hope you-"
Jojen moved close, his face broken out in the widest smile I'd ever seen on a person. He grabbed my face, kissing my forehead softly. "It's lovely. His pointer finger slid along my hair, tucking it behind my ear. "Would you sit next to me today? You're too far away all the way across the table." I just nodded. I couldn't do anything else as my body light on fire from the feeling of his lips on my forehead.
Breakfast was nice. At one point I rested my hand on the table after I'd finished talking and he reached over, intertwining our fingers. It was a nice feeling. After, the servants cleared the table and we thanked them. He then stood. "If you're going to walk around the grounds again, may I join you?"
He smiled. "I would love that." So we did just that. He took me down a few circles of the grounds, showing me all the benefits of his favorite paths that took us to different views at different spots. We kept some distance between us, our hands respectively to ourselves. He seemed pretty cheery though, smiling widely and laughing often. He seemed so happy and relaxed. It was perfect.
Perfect.
Marriage isn't perfect, sweetheart. If it feels like it's perfect, something bad is happening. I remember when your father first started acting like life was perfect. He was seeing someone behind my back. You have to be aware, my love. Don;t let your heart be broken like I did.
My smile fell immediately. Jojen hesitated at the sudden mood change. "Are you okay Love?"
That name. It was what my father used to call my mother when he was in his good moods. Usually right when something was revealed that broke her even more and his mood crashed and he got... mean. "Thank you for taking me with you on your daily walks," I stiffly began. Jojen moved closer, hand reaching out worriedly. I stepped away and he paused, his lips curving down in a frown. He looked rejected. Upset. "I'm sorry I just- I'm very lucky that I can be friends with my husband in times like this. Thank you for being so kind to me."
Jojen' s eyebrows came together. Before he could ask whatever question he had, I turned and retreated back inside. I found a book from the library and retreated to a little nook in the attic that was well hidden. Time not spent overthinking was spent reading, trying to forget my worries. Und]fortunately said worries would not rest and began to circle my mind relentlessly.
Ugly. Stupid. Desperate. Pitiful. Pathetic.
Of course Jojen had some other thing that really had him so happy. Surely he didn't just walk around the grounds all day every day just to give me space. And his embarrassment at seeing me exposed. Every thing with him was simply platonic. He felt more like my brother than my husband. It made me feel... unwanted.
I didn't see Jojen again until dinner, where I didn't talk. He asked me where I had been and I told him I was in the attic. He seemed surprised by that. He tried to get more out of me, but gave up quickly as I hit off conversation. We retreated to bed and I changed quickly and crawled under the covers. There was a soft sigh and then a moment as Jojen changed before he joined me in bed. I could hear him intake a breath a few times, and eventually picked up that he was trying to think of something to say, but failing. Despite the tension, we both eventually fell asleep.
For the first time in a while, I had the dream again. Jojen in the window, his shirt undone a little and his hair messy and his smile wide. The sunlight, lighting him up warmly. The woman who took my place next to him. I didn't appear outside this time though. His eyes landed on me and he sneered, disgusted by my presence. "Are you so thick you can't even understand it when I'm being so obvious? I don't want you here, Y/n. LEAVE!" And suddenly Jojen wasn't Jojen- he was my father. His eyes were angry, twisted in rage. His hands rose so that his fingers curled in my hair, pulling my head closer. "You're never going to amount to anything. You're not pretty, and you have no brains or talents. You're not even fun. You better be grateful we managed to get the Reeds to agree to takin something like you in..."
I woke up crying.
Jojen was still asleep, the sun barely coloring the sky. I looked at him and felt my chest tighten before I stood, leaving the room quickly after dressing. I moved to a different little nook I'd found under one of the stair cases in my exploring. It was small and dark, but there was a small window that let just enough light in and I could find a very comfortable spot if I leaned against the wall and curled my knees into my chest. I spent the rest of the day there, reading the last of my book. I came out for dinner and Jojen was there. He watched me eat, not touching his food. It was obvious he was upset and that he knew I was as well, but he seemed unsure on how to approach it. We finished the meal then went to bed and silence fell until we were both asleep. I had another nightmare; one similar, but a little different again. Sometimes about my dad. Sometimes about Jojen. Sometimes just your average everyday nightmare. I woke up before Jojen again, and retreated to my little nook until dinner where we sat in silence. Bed time. Repeat.
Days passed into a week and a half. It was like how it had been in the beginning, except this time I was the one disappearing and Jojen was the one wondering where I was, trying to pull me closer but completely unaware on how to. Every time he gave me those puppy dog eyes or he refused to touch his food or he remained quiet and still, I reminded myself of my mother's words. Nothing was perfect. Jojen wanted something from me, that was all. Either that or he had gotten into some trouble and needed to lighten the blow. It was better to stay away and guard myself then get caught up in the damage when whatever he had on his mind blew up in his face. Despite my resolve, he was making it near impossible to be reserved. He looked even worse than when we'd first gotten married. He wasn't stoic or uncaring- he was downtrodden, like a child who's favorite treat had been taken away. There was no discomfort or awkwardness or hesitation- only sadness. I was not used to this lure. My father had used anger. What did sadness do other than wear us both away for days on end? How long was the deadline to this dooming bit that he had the patience to wear me down?
Whatever it was, he was wearing me down. I started to doubt myself. My mother. Maybe there was wrong. Maybe he just.... loved me. Or, liked me. Perhaps I was just pleasant to be around. Maybe he didn't have some debt or side piece- he just had come to enjoy our time together. Maybe, after everything, I'd ruined actual happiness with insecurities and hyper defense... maybe I'd been too careful. Every time I thought it, I heard my mother's words. You can never be too careful, my dear. Men only want one thing. For every man it's different, but I promise you that it will never be you.
As the days passed, the nightmares got worse. It went from memories of bad times with my dad and a future I dreaded landing in with Jojen to... Jojen being just like my father. He was angry, face screwed up. He screamed at me. Sometimes he grabbed the front of my shirt and shook me. Sometimes he grabbed my wrist so hard that it bruised. Sometimes... I bled. His nails would dig into me and red would pool and his face would flicker and sometimes he was my dad and sometimes he was Jojen and sometimes I was me and sometimes I was my mom. Every time it was bad.
One night was strange. The dream and continued with no sign of Jojen. Instead it was a memory from when I was very young. My parents were arguing silently as I played with dolls. I didn't look over until there was a loud slapping sound and my mom cried out. My eyes widened when I saw her on the floor, my dad's face red with rage as she cried. Then suddenly the scene changed and I was with my dad as he handed me a small wooden horse. I had been jokingly asking my mother to get me a horse to ride for my birthday. I was too young and she was trying to teach me how to embroider so I hadn't been allowed. Behind her back, my dad had given me the only horse he could get away with. He kissed me on the forehead and ruffled my hair and left me alone with the token. It was small- small enough to fit in my palm. I sat it on my windowsill so that I could see it every morning, right when I woke, I smiled at it every single morning until... a new memory. My mom was angry and she was crying and screaming and she saw the horse. She asked me what it was and I was caught off guard and scared and upset so I told her. She took it and threw it in the fire and I cried but she just left me alone, storming out of the room because she had to speak with my father. Yet another memory, with my parents sitting on opposite ends of the table for the first time, me between them on one side and my brother on the other. It was when things were still good. Bearable. Things had been heating up, but my brother was a golden boy and if they could agree on nothing else, my parents could always see eye to eye on how perfect and wonderful he was and how much of a good job they'd done at parenting him. One of the servants came in and my father's gaze followed her body as she left. I didn't understand why my mom;s band clenched tightly around the edge of the table until I was older. Skip forward again to my brother and I running through the woods. It had been my idea. He ran ahead, our giggling echoing through the woods. For a second I forgot what was about to happen and so when he suddenly fell through the forrest floor, I paused in intrigue.
"Torand?" I called. No answer. I smiled, shaking my head and jogging to the newly formed hole. "Rand, you can't hide I saw you f-" my words cut off as my eyes landed on the broken, bloody body of my brother. My eyes widened and the wind knocked out of my lungs. I was silent, staring and shocked. I couldn't move. It didn't even cross my mind to get help. He looked at me one last time, choking, before he went still. I could only manage a scream after he was long dead, and it wasn't until nighttime I managed to move back to the castle to tell my parents what happened. He was nine years old. My parents never forgave me for it. Their marriage stayed together even until this day only because they had the amazing ability to untie over the small things. Before, they had united over their success with Torand, Now, they united over their mutual loathing of me.
I was quiet when I awoke. No tears fell. I knew they wanted to. I knew it might even help. But a long time ago, I had stopped crying over Torand and my parents and come to accept that it was just what I deserved. They had made a perfect child and I had killed him. In return, they tormented me and each other for not getting rid of me sooner.
Arms wrapped around me. "It wasn't your fault." My chest tightened so tightly that I couldn't breathe. There was absolutely no fucking way he knew what I had been dreaming about. "I..." He sighed, waiting silently until I turned around to face him. Jojen was tired. The sun hadn't even come up yet. I'd been asleep for maybe four hours total. He looked more sad though, and that didn't make sense. "Y/n, I have the Sight." At first it didn't register. Then my eyes widened and I felt my mouth move but no words came out. I found myself getting frustrated at how groggy I felt. Between the memories I was never good at handling and the early hours and the little sleep I'd gotten and the startling news Jojen had so suddenly given to me... I was no handling this morning well.
Jojen gave me the time to process, and I appreciated it. "Like, the future?" He nodded patiently. I shook my head. "And you're only telling me this now?"
His lips curved in the smallest of smiles. "I wanted us to grow close before I told you. I wanted to get to know each other better before I shoved all my problems in your face."
I felt my heart sink. "Is that why you were so nice to me? You wanted me to like you?"
That seemed to confuse him. "Well in the beginning I was just being polite. I could tell that you were having a hard time with the whole... you mean when we went on the walk, don't you?" I nodded as he voiced the realization. He paused, pursing his lips for a second in displeasure. At first he was angry at me but then he took my face in his hands and brought my lips to his. I tensed for a second but he was warm and soft and his nose nudged mine and his body pressed to mine and my head was swimming and my hands were already moving to touch his hair - lord above, what a wonderful experience it was to run my hand through his hair let me tell you - and then I was relaxing and melting into him and moving as close as I could. He moaned softly, head tilting to deepen the kiss. His hands toughened as they held the sides of my face. He moved them, grasping my shirt and the back of my neck instead, pulling me incredibly close. We kept inhaling sharply through our noses, trying to prolong the heated, passionate moment as long as we could, Eventually we calmed though and the kisses became soft and slow and so full of love and tenderness that I found myself crying. "I love you," he whispered at one point. "I love you, and I am so glad that out of everyone that could have been forced to be married to me, it was you. A with your beautiful smile and golden heart. Your kindness and curiosity and idiocy, because how could I not fall in love with you, you moron?"
I found myself pushing away, unsure how to handle this. "You saw... my dream." He paused, nodding slowly. "You saw what I did to my brother."
Jojen got a rather determined look on his face. "That was not your fault." I opened my mouth to argue but he covered it. "I don't care what your parents said. And I know it will be a while before you can get to the same place, but you are my wife and I am your husband and I love you and you did not kill your brother." Despite my lingering disbelief - if my parents said it... I mean, they wouldn't lie to me surely? - I felt a weight lift off of my chest at his words. "You are a good soul and you deserve happiness, and I am going to give it to you."
Swallowing, I tried to find some words to match his. Some kind of fitting response. "So... when you talk to me, and invite me on walks and tell me sit next to you at the table-" I cut off, unable to say the words.
"It was because I love you, and I like to have you around as much as you'll let me." He reached up, his thumb brushing along my lips.
I smiled. I didn't know why he had chosen me to give his heart to, or how I had gotten so lucky as to have ended up with him. I didn't know if he was right, but I did know that he said his words with vigor. He believed them. They weren't sudden and emotion and wild. They weren't thrown out in emotionally blinding moments to hurt me. He didn't apologize after saying them. He had complete control of himself and he meant every single thing he said, whole heartedly. Suddenly, I realized that one day I would believe them with just as much vigor.
Things were only going to get better from here. He was Jojen Reed, and I was his wife. We'd figure the rest out along the way.