Among Lions and Wolves • |Book 1|

.chapter twelve.

Winterfell was starting to become a personal hell for Rhaella. So much had gone wrong for her here and so much continued to go wrong. She no longer wore the cloak Jon Snow had gifted her the night she first arrived. A new cloak had been given to her, one covered in the pelt of a red fox, just like the one that had been the Tydore's sigil.

Joffrey had presented it to her, a gesture that had taken her by surprise. Never in his existence had the crowned prince gifted Rhaella with anything more than his presence, which she often despised depending on their mood.

"Now there will be no need for you to wear that disgusting thing," he said loudly for all to hear, including Jon Snow. "Since your intended is incompetent to perform his rightful duties, I have had this cloak made for you. It's fox fur, do you like it? I killed them myself."

She ran her fingers over the soft reddish brown coat. The thought of Joffrey killing poor innocent creatures for pleasure ate at her and to know she'd have to wear his cloak made her sick. But she'd have to hide it.

"Thank you, your grace," she said softly, her eyes never lifting from the cloak.

"Go on, take off those rags and put it on."

She did as he commanded. She removed Jon's cloak, careful not to let it drop. Joffrey grew impatient. He reached for the cloak and tossed it aside, muttering to have it burned while he took the new one and draped it around her shoulders.

"There," he smirked, stepping back to admire it on her. "Much better. You still have that beast with you?" His green eyes landed on Ghost. "My sword," he called out.

"No!" Rhaella stood in front of the wolf. "Don't hurt him! He's done nothing!"

"It's a beast and it deserves to be slain!"

She blinked back her tears and held out her arms, "You will have to get through me if you want the wolf," she said sharply.

"Joffrey, my dear," Cersei stepped forward, her hand on his shoulder. "Leave the creature, it will not be coming with us when we return to King's Landing."

Joffrey lifted his eyebrows at his mother and then turned to look at Rhaella. He handed his sword back to the Hound and then turned to walk away. Cersei turned to her, a disapproving look on her face. She too turned away, leaving Rhaella standing in the middle of the courtyard, her arms still spread out wide.

She found Jon in the sea of faces, his grim expression still the same as always. He had originally been seated on a fence, but now he stood, ready to defend Ghost as she had.

Their eyes met. She could see the sorrow swimming in them and she wanted nothing more than to run toward him, to hug him as she had in the forest. Losing his cloak had been like losing a part of him. It broke her heart to realize that very soon, she'd also be losing Ghost.

She turned on her heel, slipping past the dispersing crowd and running toward the gates. She had to get away from the castle, she had to get away from the queen and the crowned prince.

She walked toward the woods, craving the solitude of them. She could cry there, alone, without a soul to hear or bother her. There would be no looks of disappointment from Cersei, cruelty of Joffrey or Robb's sad blue eyes pleading with her to make things right. He talked a lot, Robb did. Talked of making her feel safe and protecting her, but he never did anything.

Jon had done something. He had lent her Ghost and gave her his cloak to keep warm. And then he had been taken away, just as his cloak had and then Ghost would follow too.

She could walk no further and sank down onto the damp ground aside a tree. Tears spilled over, Ghost's hot, rough tongue licking at them continuously causing her to cry even harder. She threw her arms around the white wolf's neck and buried her face into his fur.

"I don't want to lose you," she sobbed into his fur. "You're all I have left. I need you."

"He doesn't want you to go either," a voice said.

Rhaella lifted her tear stained face to find Jon kneeling a few feet away. "He'll miss you, I know he will. He's never taken to anyone like he has with you. He's not like that, even with me."

She released Ghost and sat back, "I will miss you as well," she said, taking Jon by surprise. "You and Ghost are about the only good thing in Winterfell."

He knew her words shouldn't have made him feel the way he did, but they did. He moved closer, coming to sit by her.

"I hardly think there is anything good about a bastard," he said, despite his smile.

Rhaella smiled back, her eyes still watering. She reached for his arm and rested her cheek against his shoulder. She felt his body tense and then relax.

"We have already established that you know nothing," she said softly, closing her eyes so that the tears would stop.

"Have we?" He rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes. "We barely know one another."

"I know that I love you," she whispered. "I know it deep in my heart."

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at her. She didn't move, but her eyebrows did rise.

"I'm just a bastard," he said.

"No," she opened her eyes and moved her head so that her chin now rested on his shoulder, pale eyes peering up into his. "You're more than that. And you call yourself a bastard like it's a bad thing. Unlike Robb and Joffrey, you are free to be yourself, free to venture into the world without worrying mothers."

"I don't have a mother," he said. "Even if I was a trueborn son, I'd have no mother to worry about me."

"I have no mother," she smiled. "See, something we have in common. But that is beside the point, you have freedom."

"No man is free," he replied softly.

"Oh, but you are, free to make your own choices without them affecting anything."

Jon frowned, "I made a choice and nothing good came from it." he told her, his brown eyes filled with remorse.

She pulled her hand away from his arm, her back pressing up against the base of the tree. "Do you regret it?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting him to say it. "Do you regret meeting me?" 

Rhaella watched as Jon Snow turned away from her, unable to face her while he chose his answer carefully. Perhaps that is what she liked about him, they way he was always cautious and considered the consequence of his actions rather than being rash in making decisions. She hated it too. But even if she could, she wouldn't change it about him. It made him, him, and she loved him, for who he was and nothing more. 

She was smiling to herself and smiling at him. He was still considering how to answer her question, oblivious to the fact she no longer cared if he regretted meeting her or not. She reached out her hand, pressing the back of it to his cold, red cheek. Startled, Jon jumped slightly and then turned to look at her. 

"What?" he asked, his hand came up to his cheek. 

"I love you," she said, gazing into his eyes. She had declared it before, but Jon hadn't been sure if it was a jest or if she really meant it, but now he saw, she truly meant it. And while he sat there, shocked by her statement, she seized her opportunity. 

Turning her body to face him, and sitting up on her knees, Rhaella placed her hands on both sides of his face, lowered her face to his and she pressed her lips down onto his.

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Because the original ending did not seem Jon Snow enough.