Irida and Jon were walking towards the Smithy that evening. A great feast had begun for the royal family, and Catelyn had preferred that the bastards not attend it. Irida wasn't bothered, but from Jon's desolate expression, she could see that he was hurt, as if his old wound had throbbed once more.
I never should've left him alone.
She looked around, trying to distract herself from regretting her decision again. Winterfell was crowded like never before, people were drinking and eating and working and laughing. At least something good had come out of the King's visit.
"Jon, why are we going to the blacksmith?" She turned to him.
"I told you, I'm having a sword made."
"You already have a sword. And I'm very sure you haven't learnt to swing two."
Jon suddenly smirked. "You haven't even learnt to swing one." He started laughing as Irida smacked him on the shoulder.
"It's for Arya." Jon said as he dodged the last blow.
"She really is something else, isn't she?" Irida commented, smiling to herself.
Jon paused for a moment, his boyish face turning serious. "She was the only one who truly understood me when you left me here."
Irida pursed her lips, looking at her feet. Her chest had abruptly tightened in pain. Jon had never truly forgiven her and at that moment, she was ready to fall on her knees begging for his forgiveness.
"Jon, I am-"
"Uncle Benjen!" Jon exclaimed, rather too happily.
A man with an angular face and slit-like eyes had approached them, smiling warmly. His long black hair was tied back in a bun, several strands sticking out haphazardly. His robes and fur coat were pure black, the colour of the Night's Watch.
"Jon! Irida!" He laughed as they hugged him. "You both have grown so much. I never expected you to be this tall, Irida."
"You expect too little of me, uncle." She piped.
Benjen Stark, Ned Stark's younger brother, chuckled lightly. "Ah, I missed your cheekiness. How have you both been, children? You should come visit me at the Wall sometime."
Irida noticed the slight hesitation on Jon's part as Benjen said that.
"Of course, we will. But only if you let us peer down on the other side." Jon said, grinning.
"That," Benjen narrowed his eyes in a jesting manner, "will not happen. I'm not going to let two kids fall to their deaths just because they wanted to see how white is the snow beyond the Wall."
"For all we know, it might be black." Irida said, scratching her chin. Jon stifled a chuckle.
"Enough of this now, we will talk later. For now, I need to go to this fancy feast and eat my heart's full. You don't get roasted pork at The Wall, you know." He winked at them, heading towards the doors.
"Uncle!" Jon called out just as Benjen reached halfway towards the feast. Stepping a bit closer he muttered nervously, "I do need to talk to you later."
Benjen glanced at Irida cautiously and then said, "Later."
As soon as he left, Irida turned to Jon. "Don't tell me . . . don't tell me you're thinking of joining the Night's Watch."
The Night's Watch was a military order which guarded the Wall to keep the wildings and White Walkers, who lived on the other side of the Wall, from crossing into the
They manned the vast structure known as the Wall, a 700 foot tall and 300-mile long barrier which separated the Seven Kingdoms from the lands to the north. Formed mostly from ice with small trenches and wooden fortifications covering the top, the Wall was one of the biggest structures ever made by man.
The brothers of the Night's Watch swore an oath that stripped them of all their titles and lands and prohibited them from marriage and family for as long as they lived.
Jon looked at her defiantly. "And why shouldn't I?"
"You know why!" Irida looked in disbelief at her brother who stuck out his chin at her. "Jon, you'll never be able to have a family. You know the Night's Watch doesn't allow it."
"I don't want it." He said with an air of finality.
Irida wasn't having it. "You'll be going to the edge of the world. You'll never be able to take a wife, or have children. At least think it through, you fool."
"It's my only chance at honour, don't you understand!" He raised his voice at her and she fell quiet. "All my life, I've been disgraced for a crime I never even committed. And I don't want to run away from it like you did. I don't want anyone to hurt the way I did. Yes, I shall bear the consequences of being a celibate. Because I'll be a part of the honourable knights that guard the Wall."
Irida sucked in a deep breath, but her lungs didn't feel relaxed. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"
"Why didn't you tell me where you had actually lived for the past eight years!" Jon retorted angrily. "Cartos is no village in the East. I searched for it on the maps. You lied to me. Again."
Irida froze, guilt flooding in her veins, overwhelming her core. She could not lie to him any longer. Consequences be damned, she didn't care. She had to tell him, he deserved to know the truth. She took a shaky breath.
"I'll tell you the truth. But not here. Come with me."
She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the godswood. And as they walked, behind them Tyrion Lannister looked on at their gliding cloaks thoughtfully.
The godswood was quiet and cold, the canopy that covered the holy area blocked the moonlight, leaving them in complete darkness. It was said that the godswood was home to the spirits of all the dead Starks, and if one was worthy of being and truly a Stark, they would be able to feel their presence, hear their whispers.
The night was beautiful and in the heart of the godswood, Irida and Jon didn't hear the people cheering in the feast, all they heard was the silence. A silence so beautiful and so purifying that it was almost like it was meant for a moment like this.
They settled near the glassy black pond under the ancient weirwood tree with it's heart shaped red leaves fluttering in the icy wind. The North believed that the Old Gods of the Forest resided in those weirwood trees and the face of the Gods had been carved onto the trees thousands of years ago by the beings who first walked upon those lands, the face which now gazed upon the two siblings sitting nearby.
Irida was going to tell Jon the truth.
"When did you decide to join the Night's Watch?" Irida asked, starting off the conversation slow.
Jon grumbled, looking away. "The day you left me. I realised I was all alone. I realised that you had betrayed me." He glanced at her, the fading embers of his anger dying down. "I would've joined the Night's Watch then but Father did not allow me to. I've been wanting to get away from all this, I had my mind made up then and I'm not changing my mind now."
Irida took a deep breath. Would he believe the truth if she told him?
"Your turn." He simply said.
Irida's eyes gleamed in the strips of the moonlight, and Jon almost thought there were tears there. She blinked once and they were gone. He slowly reached out to hold her hand, squeezing it encouragingly.
"You can tell me, Irida." He whispered warmly.
"You would hate me if I do." Irida muttered, conflicted.
"I could never hate you."
That seemed like the most beautiful sentence she had ever heard. She turned to face him, looking into his black eyes.
"The day I ran away, I had sneaked out of the castle to the Winter Village." She drawled, her slender fingers clutching themselves in nervousness. "I believe I wanted to see it on my own, get some sense of independence. On my way back, a pack of hounds attacked me in the Winter Forest. I forget why I had taken the path through the woods in the first place, perhaps to avoid anyone from the castle catching me. They surrounded me, growling. I remember the fear so well. One of them leapt at me and then-"
She stopped, hesitating. Her breaths had quickened out of sheer nervousness.
"-and then I burst out fire and the whole pack of hounds burned before me."
"What?"
Jon looked at Irida's hand, her palm covered in and lifting up a large pulsing blue flame. The heat radiated to his cheek even as he felt his blood run cold.
She clenched her fist and the flame disappeared.
"This", she said, eyeing her unburnt palm, "is why I ran away. This ability that I had never learned to control, to keep within myself. I knew if anyone from the North found out, I would be hanged in a heartbeat. A bastard and a witch? The people would have loved to see me die." She paused, the memories still painful in her mind.
"And then I decided that I would not die for things that were never in my control." She felt Jon squeeze her hand. "I would not die because they called me a bastard or a witch. And, I couldn't put you at risk. So I fled the North, ran away South. And that's where I met people who helped hide me, who trained me and cared for me. That's where I met my guardian. He kept my secret as if it were his own. He brought me up as if I were his own."
Jon didn't seem to be listening. He looked too shocked, his mouth lightly open. He had just seen his sister conjure up a flame from her bare hands, he had only read of these things in storybooks. A minute passed.
"Could you show me that flame again?" He meekly asked, his voice still unbelieving.
Irida chuckled, relieved that her brother had not run away in horror, and waved her hand. Almost immediately, a hot white ball of flame danced around her fingers. The white light seemed to surround them completely, the snow glowed like silver and the black pond shone like obsidian.
....
After a while, they were lying on the frozen grass, looking at the thousand stars above them. They had spoken a lot, and Irida had done as she had promised. She had revealed the truth to him, though she had made him swear to never tell another soul.
"I'm glad you told me, Irida." Jon whispered.
"I'm glad too."
"You never told me where you had actually stayed." Jon muttered curiously, propping himself up with one arm.
Irida kept looking at the twinkling stars.
Finally she said, "Dorne".
~~~~~~~
While Irida was confessing to Jon, several people in the castle decided on things that would change the course of the realm.
In the lord's chambers, Catelyn and Ned had just read the message from the Vale, from Lysa Arryn, Catelyn's sister, in which she had vigorously blamed the Lannisters for the death of her husband, Jon Arryn adding that they were also conspiring against the Throne.
"Ned you cannot be serious! You have spent half your life fighting Robert's wars for him. Whatever he has now, his throne, his wealth, his power, he owes it all to you!"
"Aye but I owe him my life as well!" Ned barked, his head in his hands.
Catelyn, who was pacing across the room, stopped short in front of the fireplace. The golden light danced in her eyes as she said coldly, "You cannot abandon your family to be his bodyguard."
"I'm not abandoning my family! I have to do whatever it takes to protect my King. He does not have anyone trustworthy at court. I need to be there for him." He said desperately.
"You're leaving us, like that bastard did." She said icily.
"Do not compare us, Cat." A stern voice came from him.
Ned looked up at the fire, ending the conversation.
Catelyn closed her eyes in frustration. He had made his decision.
~~~~~~~
Elsewhere in the guest chambers, Tyrion shooed away the whore he had sneaked in during the feast, just as Jaime entered. The woman, half naked stopped in her tracks to gaze at Jaime.
"Get out of here!" Tyrion shouted.
Jaime raised his eyebrows and sat down on a chair as the woman hurried out.
"Why did you call me?" He asked casually.
Tyrion got off the bed, and poured some wine in a goblet, offering it to his brother while proceeding to drink from the jug itself.
"It's that bastard girl." He said drunkenly, after taking a gulp.
"What about her? Do you want to fuck her too?"
Tyrion rolled his eyes, annoyed. "As hard as it may be for you to believe, I do not want every living woman in my bed. I am but one man and fulfilling the fantasies of the female population sounds very tiring." He paused. "Tiring but pleasurable. Pleasurably tiring?"
Jaime scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Anyway, I didn't call you here for that." Tyrion continued. "I have a bad feeling about that girl. She seems cunning and she's been around the world and we all know she's not loyal to the Starks. And, I fear she has been to King's Landing without anyone's knowledge. She could be dangerous for all we know."
"Dangerous? She's a woman! Well, barely." Jaime said, incredulous.
"I know danger when I see it, Jaime. There's just something about her, I can't explain it. She knows how to swing a sword, how many runaways girls do you know who can swing swords?"
"And who told you that?" Jaime asked in a mocking tone.
"A few women at the castle." Tyrion replied, trying not to sound stupid.
"The kitchen girls! Tyrion, I had thought better of you. Those women see a girl holding a sword and they think she's the best swordsman...swordswoman? that they've ever seen."
"And yet, most of the scandals in noblehouses are brought to light because some servant girl walks in on one of the knights bedding his Lord's wife. The kitchen girls are the ones who see the most, brother, although they do have the habit of exaggerating, there is always some truth in what they say."
"I hope you are right about this, Tyrion. It would be a waste of your investigation skills if that wench turns out to be....a wench." Jaime smirked and left the room.
Tyrion closed his eyes, straining to remember.
Where have I seen her before?
~
If Tyrion finds out the truth, it will be a life in prison for Irida! There is way worse coming.
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