Chapter Text
Jeyne
Jeyne felt the heavy raindrops against the cowl of her hood. Her clothing was already soaked, but that was no surprise in the Riverlands. These lands were fruitful due to this blessed rain, but now she just wanted to curse it away.
Perhaps praying would suit a lady like her more, but she had long stopped caring about the gods. Not since she had lost Robb to the vilest of treachery. The very thought made her heart ache painfully and she wrapped her arms closer around her shoulders, turning her head to find the Blackfish seated in front of the fire. He had his hood up and was rubbing his hands over the half-vanquished flames. The tree crowns were full of holes and now and then a raindrop drenched out the flames he was so desperately trying to bring back to life.
Jeyne could not see much through the dusk-like darkness and the mist that seemed to swirl over the lands that were now more brown and muddy instead of the once green colors of spring and summer. Winter is coming, as Robb would have said, but he was gone and only Jeyne was left. Well, Jeyne and…she did not even dare to think about it. It was too dangerous of a thought, but she had been sure of it since the second moon had come and gone without her moonblood. She had also realized then that her mother had tried to poison her. Truth be told, she had tasted the fertility drought only once, sensing that something was wrong with it, and had poured it away every single time because of the bitter taste, but now she knew the truth. Her mother had been conspiring with Lord Tywin all along.
Lord Tywin Lannister who was now dead or at least that was what the rumors said. Jeyne had wept with joy when she had heard it, but she had done so silently. The rest were just blurred memories of that hurried flight from Riverrun. Only when she closed her eyes could she could still hear the seen play out in the darkness of the night.
It had been just beyond the Hour of the Wolf when someone had knocked at her door, rousing her from her sleep and her prison. Glimmering torches had flashed in front of her eyes and she had been surprised to see her mother, who had not spoken to her since the day they had heard of the Red Wedding and her brother´s death, her mother´s favorite child.
Blunt as ever, her mother had ordered her to dress in simple rough spun, but warmly. The clothing was fit for a peasant girl, which had confused Jeyne at first, but when she had seen the Blackfish, who had held out against the Kinslayer´s threats for days. She had thought that they would trade her for Lord Edmure, but that was another mistake. To her surprise, the Blackfish had told her that they would flee tonight and she ought to say goodbye to her mother and her lady sister Jeyne Westerling.
Her mother had smiled at her then, as much as an unhappy woman like her could smile, and had pulled her into a tight embrace. “The Kingslayer has never met you, child. We are going to play our own little mummery. That is why you must leave tonight.”
Jeyne had shuddered with fear and confusion, had kissed her sister and then hesitatingly embraced her mother before rushing out into the darkness. Her heart had been racing as the Blackfish had seized her by the arm and had led her down to the courtyard. When she nearly stumbled, he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the gate. He pulled up her hood and then he sat her down, urging her to move faster.
There she noticed the presence of Lord Edmure. He smiled at her weakly, his face pale like snow and his red hair long and in disorder. The water beneath the gate reflected his pale face in the rippling surface.
Jeyne snatched his arm to steady herself. Her feet felt weak like pudding. “My lord….you are well? Who freed you?”
Lord Edmure touched her shoulder gently. “The Kingslayer, of course. They will soon come for you, well, your sister, Lady Elenya. She looks enough like you to hide the truth. It is the only joy I have left....all to trick the Kingslayer.”
Jeyne gritted her teeth and lifted herself on her toes to place a kiss on Lord Edmure´s cheek.
“I thank you, my lord,” she said, put her hood in place and followed after the Blackfish, who was waiting for her. “I thank you!”
“The seven may bless you, dear child,” he called after her, his voice the barest of whispers. “And do not be afraid!”
Jeyne said nothing and climbed into the water, holding tightly unto the Blackfish´s arm, who had told her to push and swim as fast as she could, but not to show her head too soon. The Freys were afoot and the night was dark and full of terrors. Jeyne believed she had heard these words before, but she could no longer remember where, when she felt the icy water on her skin.
The Water Gate was not fully up and they had to dive deep to move. The Blackfish pulled her along at first, but then Jeyne had to move herself. She pushed and kicked, thinking of everything and nothing at all. The cold made it hard to feel anything beyond the wish to feel warm again.
It felt like knives on her skin as she emerged from the waters again. The darkness was even worse, and when she saw the flicker of flames she dipped her head lower again, still kicking with her feet to stay afloat. The Blackfish emerged soon after, grabbing her arm and pulling her down.
His voice was hoarse and filled her with comfort. The strength of his grip gave her hold and soon enough she found herself moving through the black water. Cold and icy they felt, but the lights dancing across the walls, scared her even more. The lions had come and she felt like a fish.
Her clothing was heavy and her breath was rising like mist into the air when the Blackfish pulled her back to the shore. He helped her walk and hidden behind thick bushes covered with brambles he had kept his horse. He did not hesitate to climb into the saddle, pulling her up at last. Jeyne held tightly unto his neck and glimpsed back at the castle.
“We must go, my lady. We must go.”
Jeyne had felt so sad when she had heard his voice. Again, she had blamed herself for what had happened to Robb. Perhaps, he would have lived had he married the Frey girl.
That had been week turns ago, and with every passing day, she had forgotten how much time had passed. Even day and night felt wrong to her now, for they slept during the day and only moved in the night. The roads were not any better, for the Blackfish did not dare to use main roads or speak to travelers. Whenever someone appeared, he would hid her away and instead of the rough spun she was wearing the clothing of a squire these days, her hair all cropped short.
Jeyne had wept after he had cut it off, her one true beauty, but then she had recalled Lord Edmure and had brushed her tears away.
The Blackfish had not said much ever since. He was no many for many words and he rarely laughed or smiled as he had done while Robb was still alive.
Most of the time he was either foraging ahead or hunting some food so Jeyne could fill her belly.
Jeyne hugged her knees and pulled them up to her chest as the Blackfish lifted his head to reveal his weather-worn face and ugly beard. He had grown it out and cut off his head. His clothing was that of a commoner and even that horse of his was not as fine as that of a knight. The only thing he had kept was the sword he kept well-hidden. He had also given Jeyne a small dagger, but beyond rabbits she had never killed a living creature and even then she had wept like a little girl.
“Come girl,” he said and urged her to get closer to the flames. “Warm yourself.”
Jeyne smiled and did as he asked of her. The fire prickled on her fingertips and she felt the cold leave her. They ate berries, hard bread, cheese and some nuts. It was not much, but it filled the belly and soon enough she fell asleep, while the world around her was filled with light.
Normally, she could sleep for a few hours, but today, the Blackfish roused her much sooner. “Come child, we must hurry if we ever wish to reach the Neck. Then, we will finally be save. The crannogmen will help us.”
Jeyne had heard about the small people of the swamp and that one of them had been Lord Eddard Stark´s friend from the war. Still, the Neck felt too close to the North, a place Robb had spoken so fondly of, but Jeyne only felt fear when she thought of going there. They had no reason to love her.
“And then?” she asked. “What will we do then?”
“First we must get there, my lady,” he had told her and squeezed her hand before he had pulled her up into the saddle. “Hold tight.”
They rode for the whole day before they finally reached the Neck. It was a wilderness that stretched as far as the eye could see. Small rivers of green and brown were making their way through the thick green world around them. The sun was nearly vanished when they entered the swamp and Jeyne had to hold tightly unto the Blackfish to not fall from the horse. When it became to difficult, they moved on by foot, their feet getting stuck in the mud at every step. She smiled when the finally reached some harder ground and they decided to rest here for the night.
Jeyne had wrapped herself in her cloak while the Blackfish had gathered some wood to make a fire. It took hours and Jeyne watched the horse. The animal did not like the swamp and was anxious like a little bird in front of its enemy, but she seized it and fed it. That was enough to calm it down.
When the Blackfish had finally made a fire, he had pulled off his dirty boots and had urged her to do the same. “You must keep your feet warm, child. There is nothing more dangerous than wet feet. I learned that in the war. First, it starts with the feet, then it goes to your bladder, your belly and then to the rest of your body. The cold kills you faster than anything in this world.”
Jeyne had followed his advice without complaint, but when she started to shiver, the Blackfish had pulled off his cloak and had wrapped it tightly around her slender body.
“Now I can tell you,” he said and rubbed his shoulders, his breathing rising into the air like mist. “Robb sent Lord Glover and Lady Mormont to Greywater Watch before he rode to the Twins. Shortly before their departure he drew up his will and made me stand witness. He named his half-brother, Jon Snow, his heir, should he not have any living issue. I do not know this boy and Cat never liked him, but I am no man of the North and we will need his help. You most of all, my lady. Your previous marriage alone might not sway the Northmen, especially since you…,” he fell silent then and patted her shoulder.
“Sleep now, my lady.”
Jeyne knew what he had wanted to say. Because they will blame you for his death.
On the next day, they moved on through the swamp that seemed to grow only wilder. At times, it was hard to tell whether it was day or night, but the warm fire had helped to regain her strength and the mud was less perilous as before.
They exhausted by midday, and made another short break, before they came upon dead men stuck unto pikes. Their flesh was shriveled and their bodies littered with small needle-like spears.
“The work of the crannogmen,” he told her and showed her one of the small sharp spears. “These must be intruders….perhaps ironborn. No one can say for sure, my lady. I think we are close.”
Jeyne wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulder and they walked some more. The Blackfish steadied as they climbed over fallen trees and waded through small streams. The sun was finally showing and made the water glitter like jewels.
The warmth helped, but it seemed the days were much shorter here in the North, for only a few hours after midday the night was beginning to fall and streaks of velvet and blue showed on the distant horizon accompanied by a thin circlet of silver and a handful of stars.
It was then, with the appearance of dawn, that the crannogmen came for them. They were indeed small, almost as small as children, their tiny spears raised and their bodies covered in green-and-brown leather, rendering them almost invisible to the eye.
"Name yourselves strangers,” the small man demanded. “Who are you?”
The Blackfish answered for her. “This is Lady Jeyne Westerling and I am the Blackfish. We came to see Lord Howland Reed, the Lord of Greywater Watch.”
….