( PART I; a dreary existence. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 8: bastard born.

A sennight passed, and Raina could not shake the uneasiness that the tourney had left with her. Even as she and the princess walked down the pathway of the Royal Garden lined with countless varieties of blossoming flowers and herbs, the image of the Mountain brutally killing Ser Hugh and the poor stallion haunted seemingly every other thought she had. The gruesome image of a dead knight she'd never met lingered like a chill, even with the day carrying a gentle breeze about it with relief from the summer heat.

It had been her first time seeing a man die. Something told her it wouldn't be the last. The tourney haunted her dreams the nights following the event, making her slumber, restless, and fitful. Scarcely able to recall anything that happened but the death of the knight or the horse, Raina felt changed. Sullied. As if her eyes had never been meant to see such horrors, horrors displayed in front of her as grotesque entertainment. The site of the vibrant blood spurting from Ser Hugh's neck like a violent, sanguine fountain-

"Raina, are you alright?"

Raina blinked a few times, pulling her locked gaze from the brick-laid path she and Malkyn had been walking along. Realizing she'd had her eyes trained to the ground with every step, she looked to Malkyn with as bright a smile as she could muster as the two of them stopped in the middle of the path, their eyes fluttering from the discomfort.

"Quite alright," she lied. The letter she'd drafted and sent to the Wall was proof enough. She wondered what Jon's reaction might be to the short summary she provided him of recent events.

"You're a bad liar, Raina Snow," Malkyn jested with a smirk, but concern was visible in her green gaze. She stood straight from where she'd been bent to smell a hearty stalk of lavender. "Is it the tourney still bothering you? I did tell you that what you might witness would not be pleasant."

The obviousness of the princess's words struck a chord of annoyance inside Raina, but she stifled it. They had grown quite frank with one another in both behavior and conversation. When the occasion called for them both to act their parts, the two easily fell into their roles. She is the servant and companion, and Malkyn is the princess. Their ever-strengthening bond made it easy for Raina to be liberal with her words, mostly when she would otherwise find retribution for it.

"If I might frank, princess, but are you used to seeing death?" Raina asked Malkyn in such a tone that it might have appeared she had forgotten her place. But the princess relished in conflict, in whatever forms it presented itself.

Malkyn flashed a grin. "I have seen my share. I was there when my father came upon Jon Arryn after his untimely death. Even hours after he'd spoilt, he'd appeared grey and sleeping. I've seen a handful of tourneys where knights have perished in their endeavors of fame and glory."

"Death that occurred within the norms of society," Raina said. She did not notice she was biting her lip or the hardened expression on her features. "Deaths that could be otherwise expected, one might say."

Malkyn cocked her head as she crossed her arms. A manicured brow raised above one of her green eyes. She was not angry. She was curious. "Has the tourney truly disturbed you so?" the princess asked. "You appear angry. Disgruntled."

Rage had been stewing somewhere inside Raina as her next words slipped out without regard to the girl's station before her. Or her own. Words that could have easily seen her flogged or beheaded, given it'd been a different individual in her audience than the princess that now held her dear.

"I am scared," Raina spat out. For some damned reason, she felt tears beginning to well in her eyes. Hot and intruding. "I'm scared to think what things may be like once your brother takes the throne."

Malkyn did not flinch at Raina's words. She didn't show an ounce of offense to her tone, as if she was aware that worry might surround someone when addressing her brother's ascension to the throne. Instead of reacting, she stayed still and asked, "My brother? What of his rule?"

Raina didn't know how to say it. To say she'd had dreams of Joffrey since the tourney. Of him doing unspeakable things. As well as other mysterious visions she couldn't place. All too much for her to bear.

A boar trampling through the woods and a flash of bloodstained hands. A blade raised high amidst a cheering crowd, and a head placed atop a spike on the battlements of the Red Keep. Tears stained a white cloak and the floor of the throne room. Blackwater Bay was consumed in vibrant green and trebuchets launching flaming balls toward a fleet of ships. They were dreams that almost felt like an intrusion, insight into what she could guess were possible future events in whatever manner they may come in.

"His cruel nature that you cannot deny he thrives in," Raina uttered slowly, not allowing her emotion to carry her voice to curious ears further into the gardens. "Since we left Winterfell, his behavior has begun to show itself. The way he lied to the king and had my sister's wolf killed. Him looking upon me at the tourney as if I were to be his next form of entertainment." She felt crazy as she spoke, trying to convey her point. "You told me of his behavior in the past. The cruel and alarming behavior with him and the cat."

Malkyn had seemingly grown deadly serious as she listened. Her eyes trained on Raina as if a blink might see her disappear. "He has proven a cruel nature about him," Malkyn agreed. "But you shouldn't take dreams as a tale of the future. Also, my father has many a year ahead of him. My brother will not see the throne for quite some time. By the time he does, you and I will be living far away within the safety of my husband's keep."

Malkyn's efforts to reassure her were not discounted, but Raina could not allow her dreams to go unheard. Whether Joffrey took the throne now or in the years to come, his rule would be arduous. Something told her she had seen glimpses of it.

Raina cleared her throat and steadied herself, wiping away the tears that had broken loose with the back of her hand.

"All my life," she shuttered as she took a breath. "Things I have dreamed have often come true. I never knew it until it happened, but I am more vigilant now. Since the tourney, I have had these dreams. Vivid and horrible visions of what is to come."

Malkyn seemed as if she wanted to believe Raina. She didn't laugh or smirk or demean her for her words. Instead, she listened. A quality Raina had noticed the princess had gained since they'd been in each other's company. She'd begun to listen because that was what she wanted. For someone to listen. For a girl a few years, Raina's junior, the princess was sharper and more mature than expected.

"I hear you," Malkyn sighed. She turned to pluck a pretty yellow flower before nearing Raina to place it in her dark hair. "Perhaps the Seven are giving you insight. Keeping you safe. Perhaps lighting those candles was not such a bad idea."

"You do not think me crazy?" Raina asked softly as Malkyn's hand still lingered near her face. "For my babblings and temper?"

"You have never lied to me," Malkyn replied. Her expression softened as she grasped Raina's shoulder endearingly. "And I was the first to show crudeness. As I said in the Sept, you have become important to me. It is in my best interest to listen to what you have to say. Without scrutiny. As you did for me."

Raina's heart eased at her words, and she wiped away the remnants of the tears. Everything was going to be fine, she told herself. Her chest felt lighter after letting out what had been troubling her. There was not much she could do of the cryptic warnings the dreams might be giving.

"Let us go for tea now," Malkyn said as she locked her arm with Raina's. "And put away our worries for now."

❆

THE urge to tell her father of her dreams needed to be fought later that afternoon when Raina met with him in his solar for a visit. Even as she distracted herself with picking at a small platter of candied orange peels and plums, Raina wanted to pour out all her concern for what might befall her family. Sansa and Arya were too young to be caught in what would come if her dreams were true. They should've never left Winterfell, a thought she'd found herself thinking for herself recently.

"Half the house guard is out looking for Arya," Ned muttered as he poured over the papers on his desk. "She's been chasing cats if I remember correctly. If she's not back before supper, I'll be on the streets looking myself."

"She's always been a wild one," Raina murmured from where she sat with her back slumped into the chair she sat in. "You know she is not easily contained."

Her father chuckled lightly, but his concern was still there. "That is where I wished she was more like you and Sansa. Less prone to getting into messes. I assume your services with the princess are going well?"

Malkyn had taken an afternoon nap after their tea, leaving Raina some free time to do as she pleased. A visit with her father would quell her anxiety, she'd thought, but somehow it'd grown tenfold. Thoughts of her father and sister's well-being haunted her day and night since the visions had plagued her.

"Very," she told him truthfully, grateful to have a distraction she knew would work. "It is not so much a duty to me every day as spending time with a companion."

Ned seemed genuinely pleased to hear so. "That is great to hear. I had doubts about the queen accepting you within her daughter's service, but you two are becoming fine companions."

They were. And it was the only reason Raina had found joy since arriving at King's Landing. But she'd begun to hope that the princess was to be married soon so they might get far away from King's Landing, even if it meant leaving her father and sisters behind.

"Have you heard from Jon?" He asked, setting down the document he'd been so entranced by in favor of another.

She nodded and hummed in reply before plucking a candied peel from the platter and popping it into her mouth. "I have. We correspond as often as we can. I told him of the tourney and my days with the princess. He writes that his training is fairing well. That Ghost and Stryder are thriving at the Wall."

"That's very good to hear," Ned said. "The beasts belong in the North. Not down here." They sat silently momentarily as Raina's gaze lingered on the platter. There were things she'd still wanted to know, things she'd never been able to ask her father due to circumstance or fear of Catelyn.

"I wished to ask you about my mother."

Her words were enough for her father to drop whatever parchment he was reading and meet her gaze. His expression was unreadable, which was terrifying, to say the least. That Stark grey gaze betrayed nothing.

"We've spoken about her before," Ned said. "What else is there to know?"

Raina had thought of many questions throughout her life. He'd told her and Jon her name had been Wylla, but they'd never been able to coax more out of him as if her memory might spoil their lives, shrouded in mystery.

"You've never told us more than her name. What did she look like? Where was she from?" The questions seemed to pour out faster with each one, a desire to turn her focus to something better than the visions haunting her. "Is she alive?"

Ned seemed as if he were trying to find the words. Choose the right words. But what he said was not what she might have expected.

"She looked just like you," he relented. He hesitated on his words as if speaking them were difficult in the first place: "Dark hair and all. I have the same strong-willed spirit about you, too. A wolfish humor." Somehow, his words made her materialize more in Raina's mind, as if she were becoming more real with every word. "She rode a horse as well as any man and had the tongue of one, too."

She wanted to ask more. Ask more now that he was cracked open, willing to share-

"I won't have anything else asked of her," Ned said. He picked up the document to continue reading as if dismissing her.

She couldn't let the subject fall into ambiguity again. Not when this was the first time she'd ever learned a shred of information about her mother, the woman she would never meet.

"You didn't tell me if she was alive," Raina uttered. The one question that truthfully mattered more than all the others. She'd been so removed from the subject of her and Jon's mother that the feeling of untapped emotion was becoming too much.

Ned didn't tear his eyes away from the document as he said, "No. She isn't."

Raina sat in silence after his words for what felt like an eternity. Long enough, her arm had gone numb in the position she'd had it: lying on the arm of the chair. She would never meet the woman who had borne her, know her embrace or voice. The reality was enough for a shroud of numbness to fall over her as she remained still in the chair. Only the door opening to her father's solar pulled her from her daze, whether it be grief or rage.

"You know I had half my guard out searching for you?" Ned said in a chastising tone. Raina turned to see her little sister standing beside her, her clothes and skin dirty and her hair a mess. "You said you would stop with this nonsense."

"They said they were going to kill you," Arya blurted out with no regard for their father's words beforehand.

Raina sat up in her seat, dark eyes narrowing on Arya. A flutter of anxiety returned as her brain ran through the visions. The looming events that would soon come to pass. Which of them would be her father's demise?

"Who?" Ned asked.

Arya's thick brows knitted in concern. "I don't know who they were... but they spoke of killing you. And something of the Targaryen's in the east. That they would be coming back."

"How do you know this?" Raina uttered. Her interest peaked at the mention of the Targaryens.

"I was in the dungeons chasing a cat. When I heard them coming, I hid in a dragon skull." Arya looked between them both. "You have to believe me. Please."

A knock at the door interrupted the short interaction. As Ned called for the visitor to enter, Raina said softly to Arya, "I believe you."

"Lord Stark, you've a visitor," Jory Cassel greeted. He nodded to Raina in acknowledgment before stepping aside for another. "Yoren of Castle Black."

"M'lord," Yoren greeted as he entered the solar with the door closing behind him. He bowed a head in acknowledgment to Raina as well. He was tall, with hair as dark as the cloak and leathers he was garbed in. With a mess of a beard peppered in grey, he bowed slightly to Ned. "I've news for you. I have ridden non-stop from the Wall."

Raina perked at the mention of the Wall, sliding to the edge of her seat in hopes of hearing from Jon.

"Arya, go find Septa Mordane," Ned ordered his youngest daughter. She complained but relented to being led out of the solar by Jory.

Ned looked to Raina sternly. "If you are to stay, your discretion is paramount. Whatever news he brings must stay with us."

Raina nodded in understanding. She had no one tell except perhaps Malkyn, but she would never betray her father like that.

"Your lady wife has acquired Tyrion Lannister as her prisoner," Yoren tells Eddard. "As of now, she is to be riding for Winterfell with him in her custody."

Tyrion Lannister: suspected of trying to murder Bran while he slept. Anger flared in her inside her, but Raina continued to listen.

"She has left Winterfell?" Eddard half asked in confusion.

Yoren nodded. "She asked that I relay the message to you. She bids you love and safety and the promise that the perpetrator of your son's attempted murder shall be dealt with in due time."

So much was happening that Raina could scarcely stomach it all. Joffrey was proving a looming threat if anything were to befall the king. Arya uncovered a plot to kill their father. And now Catelyn had captured the dwarf Lannister, which would surely coax unrest in court, chiefly among the Lannisters. Because she'd bound her word to her father, Raina could not tell Malkyn about her uncle.

"What of my brother?" Raina blurted out. This was her only chance to hear firsthand how he might be doing. "Jon Snow. He is new to the Watch."

Yoren cocked a brow as if thinking. "You mean the boy with the two wolves?" The mention of Ghost and Stryder made her peak with hope. "Aye, he is doing fine. Few bother him with the two beasts following him around."

Raina nodded, pleased enough with his answer. If he'd any bad news, he'd surely have told her.

"I also come to you, my lord, in need of men to take to the Wall," Yoren said after informing Raina of her brother. "Any from the dungeons will do. We are running short in numbers, I fear."

Ned was troubled by the news about his wife, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes, of course. I will arrange for the convicted to be gathered for you."

Yoren bowed his head in appreciation. "Much obliged, my lord. I shall be taking my leave now."

Once Yoren was gone, there was only Raina and her father.

"Be prepared to start packing your belongings," her father muttered after a few heartbeats.

"You mean for us to leave?" Raina asked in surprise. A hint of sorrow washes over her. "What of my duty to Princess Malkyn?"

Sadness rooted in her. The thought of abandoning the close friendship she and Malkyn had developed in recent months was hard to swallow. The princess had become the closest thing to a true friend to Raina than she'd ever had, except for Jon.

Her father appeared visibly distraught, reasonably so between the news brought by Arya and Yoren. He ran a hand through his light brown hair. "I will handle that. If I send the word, I need you capable of grabbing whatever you can carry on your back to board a ship bound for White Harbor. If we cannot do that, we will be forced to ride hard on the King's Road."

The sincerity of the situation stunned her. Surely, things were not so bad they would need to flee King's Landing like fugitives? Her father was the Hand of the King.

"What is going on, father?" Raina murmured, brows furrowed.

Rarely in her life had Raina seen her father so distraught. It was visible in his features and posture. Something very wrong had to happen for him to be so troubled that it could show outwardly.

"Not a word from you if I am to tell you," he uttered lowly. The seriousness in his tone made her uneasy. "Or we might see our heads on spikes atop the battlements."

Raina's heart leaped, but she nodded.

"I have, through reasonable suspicion, gathered that Jon Arryn did not die of an illness. He was murdered." Raina sank back into her chair as she listened. Turned into a statue. "None of Robert's bastards hold the golden hair or green eyes of the Lannisters. They're all dark-headed with blue eyes."

Dots began to connect in Raina's mind. "You believe Jon Arryn found out the royal children to be bastards?" Raina whispered as if the walls around them might give up their secrets if spoken too loud.

At one point, Raina realized she might have noticed the distinct difference between Malkyn, her siblings, and their king-father. He was a big man with hair as stark as night and deep blue eyes. Raina was around Malkyn day and night. There was no resemblance between her and her father, not even in the mannerisms.

Raina's father nodded. "Not a word. Remain on guard." He sighed, planting his hands on his desk. "And if need be, prepare yourself to flee."

❆

A summoning from her father brought Raina back to his chambers, but a few days later,

Raina had been anxious since learning of all the trouble stirring in the Red Keep, anxious enough that her sleep had been restless. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her body felt sluggish. It was obvious enough that Malkyn had noticed.

Opening the door to her father's solar, Raina was surprised to find Petyr Baelish.

"Lady Raina," Littlefinger greeted. He was a short man, grey peppering his short-cropped hair. In the few times she had seen him, she'd gathered her own assumptions—feelings of distrust.

"I am no lady, my lord," she replied with a respectful bow of her head.

"But a companion of the princess, no less," he replied with a tight smirk.

"The day has come sooner rather than later," Raina's father said, drawing her attention. "I've already ordered the house guard to begin packing our belongings. You are to start the same, and we will be boarding a ship bound for White Harbor before nightfall."

Raina's heart faltered as she realized she would be leaving behind Malkyn. The snobbish princess turned close confidant.

"Why are we leaving?" Raina reigns ignorance of everything her father had told her before.

"The king and I have come to disagreements on morality," her father sighed. "Therefore, I can no longer be his Hand."

"Hunting the Targaryens to extinction has been His Grace's one and only desire," Baelish purred. "That, along with whores and wine, of course."

Raina's cheeks reddened. "The king wanted to kill them?" She asked. "They have been in Essos all these years."

"The complications come in the form of allowing the pregnant Daenerys to live," Baelish informed her. "A child born of a Targaryen is a threat regardless of age. Her eldest brother is of no true consequences to the safety of the Realm. But I could not say the same about Vaegon. If Viserys were to perish, I would be informed."

"You are no longer a girl, Raina," her father sighed, cutting short Baelish's rendition of Targaryen. "And you are smart. You can deduce why we are not welcome here anymore."

Indeed, they were no longer welcome in King's Landing. The warnings of the capital had fallen on deaf ears, she admitted to herself.