MAJOR CHANGES:
So I'm terribly indecisive and have finally come to the conclusion that Adelaide Kane would be an outstanding actress to picture Rayne as. I've also created a new book cover and changed the name of this story. Please tell me how you lovely people feel about it! Your feedback means the world to me and all of the votes and comments are so amazing! Thank you all so much!
Anyway, without further ado, on with the next chapter.
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"You have no right to speak to me in such a manner, Jon Snow." Rayne seethed viciously. She watched as Jon's intoxicated face turned from annoyance to self hatred and regret.
"Rayne, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" the boy she currently loathed spoke regretfully and stood in front of her.
"Don't. Don't you dare try to speak with me. Not after what you just said." she angrily stormed away from him, out the great hall doors and to the courtyard.
The air was cold enough that she could see her own breath everytime she exhaled and feel the cold nip at her insides as she inhaled. Her throat, dry from the chill, were unlike her eyes that were filled with fury, hatred even, and crowned with tears. She bit her lip so hard, trying not to cry, she could taste the iron in her blood as her relentless pressure from her teeth broke the skin. She welcomed the pain as it was much more bearable than the emotional agony she felt in that moment. Rayne knew she had a tendency to overreact, the consistency of her ability to react disproportionately even annoyed her at times, but in this moment, all sense of propriety was thrown on the ground and crushed beneath her feet. Jon had been the one person she relied on since her stay in Winterfell and it amazed her how even someone she loves turns into a complete cunt from time to time.
The only sound made was the bitter frost crunching beneath her as she solemnly strolled through the courtyard. Her tears remained as silent as ever and not even a gasp escaped passed her lips. She welcomed the silence, enjoyed it even, seeing as how the feasting hall was bursting with clamour. All good things must come to an end, however, and Rayne's tranquillity was disturbed by the castle doors opening and the noise from inside pouring out into the sleepless night. Humming was heard along with faint footsteps and Rayne kept her back facing towards the intruder. She vigorously wiped her face to free it from the film of tears that had accumulated on her cheeks before she turned to the person right as the doors closed again. She had expected to see Jon or even Robb, but instead found the imp, Tyrion Lannister, standing and staring at her.
He was intoxicated as well, being such a small man surely meant having a lower wine tolerance, and he stumbled about trying to gather himself together. He stood a slight bit below breast level to Rayne, considering she was no giant herself, and had blond locks much like his older brother. They were tousled and curled, most probably completely matted, and framed his face messily as he looked at Rayne with bloodshot eyes.
"What is a lady such as yourself doing out here in the cold?" he slurred his words so that way they almost seemed incomprehensible, "You should be. . . What was I saying again?"
Rayne let out a small giggle at his dubiety and confusion, still keeping her distance slightly. She looked to the man in front of her and saw no threat for herself. She saw a man with troubles, like everyone else, but his seemed less materialistic. For a man so rich and powerful, he didn't let his power drive him insane like the previous king did or the one that wears the crown now.
"Would you like some?" he gestured and thrusted his flagon of wine towards her. She wanted to say no to avoid the hypocrisy of her fear, she wanted to retire to her chambers for the night and sleep her anger away, but instead, she wordlessly accepted his offer and pressed the flagon to her lips, cringing as the wine ran down her throat. Rayne couldn't fully hide her distaste and cringed and coughed after she gulped down the unwanted liquid. The flavor was pungent yet sweet, she couldn't fathom becoming obsessed with it, but the danger of it all sent her back for more.
Tyrion laughed at her face, "It appears that my lady cannot handle the sweet escape that wine brings with it." He reached out to take the flagon back, but she backed up slightly and pressed it to her lips once more.
"I can handle it." she spoke, determined and spiteful. "Ah, I'm sure you can. Judging by how red your cheeks are already, I am sure Winterfell will have a shortage of wine soon enough." his sarcasm made Rayne smile, "However, the strength of a woman has always baffled me and left me puzzled as to why it is not a woman who sits on the iron throne." Tyrion seemed like the kind of man that could talk for hours about meaningless things. She analyzed him with furrowed brows and became suddenly intrigued and found herself wanting to know more about him.
Again, the large wooden doors opened, but this time Jon walked out and stood staring at the pair. His eyes trailed from Tyrion to the flask in Rayne's hand and even the blind could see the envy radiating from him. Rayne looked at Jon before turning back to the kind dwarf and taking one last drink before putting the wine back in his possession.
"Perhaps in the future, my lord." Rayne bowed and Tyrion smiled. He only nodded at Jon, undoubtedly sensing the tension, before making his way back to the feast, the doors swallowing his shadow and the music that came with it.
For a minute, not a word was said amongst the two that remained. They simply peered at one another and kept their distance, fearful of getting too close. "I thought you hated wine." said Jon bitterly.
"I thought you weren't such an ass, guess we were both wrong." Rayne fired back and tried walking away from him, but before she could pass, he grabbed her forearm and held her in place. They were nose to nose now, and unlike the previous moments they shared together, lust was something that they both lacked.
"The imp? Really, you have an impeccable taste in the men you surround yourself with." he laughed sarcastically, "Why were you speaking with him and not me?"
"Considering I spent a great portion of time with you, I am beginning to believe that my taste in men is less than satisfactory. Maybe I was talking to him because I can do whatever I please, and maybe I spoke with him because he understands the definition of personal space." Rayne's eyes trailed menacingly from his hold on her arm to his face that feigned stoicism. "Let me go, Snow. Now."
"I won't allow you to speak with him anymore." his voice was still slurred and sluggish, along with his thoughts apparently. If Rayne hadn't felt a burning sense of aggravation before l, she definitely did now.
"You won't allow me?" Rayne almost yelled now, "What is your problem?"
"You're making bad decisions." his eyes fell to the floor and his grip on her arm loosened enough for her to break out of it. Their bodies faced one another, yet Jon's eyes stayed on the courtyard's frozen ground, in turn, infuriating her more.
"You are not my brother and you are not my father so why do you care so much? What makes you think you have a right to tell me who I should and should not associate with?" her throat began to hurt the more she screamed at the stupid boy in front of her.
His umber colored eyes shot up to her own, light from torches danced in the pools of endless carob thay were filled with sadness now instead of jealousy, and she felt herself sympathizing him. Forgetting the previous events in the dining hall, she realized that she would feel hurt if she found Jon with another woman. Even if they were just talking, Rayne new she would allow her overwhelming insecurities swallow her whole, much like Jon was doing right now. So she began to let her anger fade, only slightly.
"Because." his whisper was barely audible. His hands reached up to her cheeks in a flurry of attraction and he brought his lips down to her's. She stilled for a moment, shocked, until she kissed him back and wrapped her arms tightly around him with just as much passion. The wine that stained his teeth and lips were a new accent that Rayne could taste and instead of cringing in disgust, she welcomed the sweet taste and allowed her body to be less rigid.
Foreheads were pressed together still, even after they pulled away from one another. "I hate you so much sometimes, Jon Snow." Rayne bit her lip and kept her eyes closed with a grin.
"I suppose the key word there was sometimes. And I am sorry, I was jealous when I saw you with him." his humility made Rayne warm up to him even more. It would seem that this boy knew how to pull Rayne's strings into making her forgive him whenever he saw fit.
"Jealous? Jon, do you like Tyrion Lannister?" Rayne guffawed and felt her spirit lift with her own poorly made joke. She threw her head back and leaned slightly away from him, still in his arms, with a look of mischief playing on her features. "If that is the case, I can try to set you two up. I've heard that Lord Tyrion enjoyed the company of a man once and-"
"Gods Rayne, will you shut up?" Jon interrupted her mockery and pressed his lips back to hers. Rayne tasted the sweetness and warmth that she now craved. Not the taste of the wine, but the taste that only Jon Snow possessed.
Their breaths when they pulled away turned to fog in front of their faces and the sound of music from the great hall became louder slightly. Rayne's body felt warmer opposed to how she felt when she entered the courtyard without him, and even she had to admit that the feeling was much more strongly preferred over the prior loneliness. She looked to him in confusion when he pulled away from her and offered his hand with a chivalrous smile.
"I believe I owe you a dance, my lady." Rayne's giggle made him laugh as well and soon the pair were spinning ridiculously in a childish circle together, hands and fingers intertwined, and their laughter added to the boisterous noise that Winterfell housed that night.