The Stag and The Bastard
IMAGINE: Being the younger sister of Robert, Stannis and Renly and meeting Jon Snow in the kitchens during the feast.
[gif is not mine. creds to the owner. part of the poetry series, this time it’s based off lang leav’s ‘someone like you’.]
words: 2.0k +
‘Do you think there is the possibility of you and I? In this lifetime, is that too much to hope for?…’
She could feel the stares of the people as she walked into the hall, nevertheless she kept walking her chin held up high. (Y/N) knew why they were staring. Of course it was very uncommon for such a highborn lady to not wear dresses, but it was so trivial. She could hear Robert’s voice from the end of the hall, she could practically see Cersei rolling her eyes at her husband’s behaviour.
“Sister!” She looked at her brother at the centre of the table, gesturing for her to hurry along and break her fast with them.
“Brother,” she greeted him when she was close enough. She walked past the Stark and the Baratheon children. She wasn’t older than them by any means, basically the same age as Robb but nonetheless she was royalty.
“Why are you dressed like a man?” Renly spoke, smirking when he saw his sister’s reaction.
“I’m going around Winterfell today to see what there is,” she looked around at the faces. Robert looked on with interest as well as Cersei, Stannis looked indifferent and Renly just looked amused. “As well as around the North.”
“Do you have an escort my lady?” Catelyn spoke from her far left. “We have plenty of escorts to show you around.”
(Y/N)’s gaze turned to Cat, she smiled softly and shook her head. “Thank you, but I already have an escort. A suitable one, one that I chose myself.”
“Who is it?”
“Jon Snow,” she could practically feel the anger radiate from Cat as soon as she said that name. (Y/N) smiled at her, this time with an all knowing smile, without another word she took her seat and sat beside Renly.
“You’re stirring things up sister,” Renly whispered softly.
“I’m not,” she responded. Renly gave her a knowing look. “Okay, maybe I am but I’m not intentionally doing it.”
“How did you even get to meet Jon Snow? How did you get him as the escort?”
“So many questions brother,” (Y/N) twirled her fork and looked at the table below them. She looked for the familiar black hair but knowing better. Of course he wasn’t at the table with them. He was probably alone outside, or maybe he was inside a barn? Or in the kitchens, much like he was last night.
The clanging sounds of pots and pans echoed across the narrow hall where (Y/N) walked, she could see the faint light of the kitchens. A booming laugh echoed across the hall, knowing that it came from her over joyous brother from the feast behind her.
“Your Highness?” A servant stood before, curtsying. “Is something the matter?”
(Y/N) softly smiled, “No.” She pointed to the room where the light was coming from, “Is this the kitchens?”
“Yes my lady,” (Y/N) nodded ending the conversation. The servant curtsied again and hurried off.
(Y/N) walked towards the kitchen, she could hear the conversations that were being held. She heard her name being mentioned, with quiet movements she moved to the alcove just before it.
“I’m telling you Myl, that girl is no Highborn woman, nor a Princess,” a woman with a gruff voice sounded. “The way that she holds herself, she’s more interested in cajoling with the men and knights than being properly trained as a royal. I hear that she’s the black sheep in that family.” (Y/N) could imagine the tittering imbeciles edging in closer trying to catch up on the latest gossip while they make the food.
(Y/N) clenched her fist together, she’s heard this over the years of course. She preferred to be in the company of men as she wanted to fight, not what everyone else seem to think so. She’s heard the whispers, the rumours from servants to noble people alike. But she was never the black sheep of the family. When she said that she would rather fight and train with the soldiers, her brothers had reservations it wasn’t until Jaime Lannister came to her aid and supported her. From then on she’s become one of the fiercest and merciless fighters of Westeros.
“That’s why she’s called the Iron Princess,” another voice joined in. “She has no mercy. No sympathy, she’s more like a Lannister than a Baratheon. She’s a whore too I hear.” There was more that the woman was going to say but she was interrupted when a voice yelled out ‘enough’.
“You mustn’t say things like that,” she’s heard that voice before. Earlier in the day. “She’s different aye, but that does not matter. If she hears you saying things like this then we’ll see if she has mercy or not.” She could hear the sounds of his shoes as he walked around the room. “Even then if rumours are circulated around it won’t be just her who would be spiteful, it will be her brothers and the Lannisters, even my father.”
It was true of course, what he just said. She was loved by her brothers, and she was loved by the Lannisters. Tywin practically raised her when her father died.
“Be careful what you say around here. Now go on, I think it’s the next course you wouldn’t want them to be waiting now do you?” She could hear all of their feet move across the floor, she burrowed herself to the wall when they passed, strangely enough they were all quiet.
“Thank you for that,” (Y/N) said softly as she walked into the kitchens. She saw Jon jump a little bit and held in her laugh. She watched as he turned around almost tripping over his own feet.
“Your Highness,” he bowed.
“I beg your pardon?”
She walked towards him, “I don’t like titles. We’re all the same when we’re buried in the ground,” she shrugged. “Although dead kings garner more respect and admiration than actual living people.”
“I’m sorry for what they said. They hear rumours and they speculate.”
She shrugged, “I’ve heard far worse from far worse people Jon Snow, no worries.” (Y/N) walked along the bench, scrunching her nose up at the various smells and dirtiness of the kitchen. “Some rumours do tend to stem from the truth,” he looked at her, his dark eyes following her every move. She looked at him and smirked, “Some rumours. Not all though.”
Jon cleared his throat, not believing that (Y/N) Baratheon the most sought out person in all of the Seven Kingdoms was here with him, the bastard of Winterfell. “How does one weave out the lies and find the truth?”
She tapped her lip with her finger and thought for a moment. “If they know you well enough, love you or care for you, they know.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here with me?”
(Y/N) stared at him, “I didn’t want to be here with you.”
Jon looked down, she sighed, “I meant that I come to the kitchens sometimes so I can be alone and eat,” she grinned at him. “The company that I have right now is an added bonus. The good kind.”
“But I’m a bastard, the bastard,” Jon emphasized. He knew that he was treated far worse than the usual bastards because he was Ned Stark’s.
“And?” She sat down at one of the stools and gestured for him to do the same. “I don’t care if you’re a bastard, Ned Stark’s or not. I told you, I hate figurative titles.” (Y/N) looked at the plate of pies, took it and passed one to Jon. “Now to lighter topics, what is there to see about the dreary and grey North?”
“I could show you tomorrow, if you’d like.” Jon offered as gratefully took the pie from her.
(Y/N) chewed her pie slowly and stared at Jon, enjoying making him squirm as he waits for her answer. Finally she swallowed the piece and poured herself some wine. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer Jon Snow,” she said before she sipped the wine.
‘There is something so delicate about this time, so fragile. And if nothing ever comes of it, at least I have known this feeling, this wonderful sense of optimism…’
“Sister?” Renly gently nudged her with his elbow. She shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at her brother. “You were far away all of a sudden.”
She smiled cordially at him, “Just remembering dear brother, no need to worry.”
Renly huffed, “I wasn’t worried. I just thought you were going insane.”
(Y/N) took another forkful of sausage in her mouth, took her napkin and gently dabbed away the grease. She looked towards the entrance of the hall and saw that Jon appeared. He seemed hesitant to walk towards her but she nodded at him and started walking. (Y/N) stood up, her chair scraping across the floors as she walked down the steps to greet Jon.
“What are you doing here?” Cat looked at Jon, disdain still in her eyes and her voice.
Jon looked at (Y/N) then at Cately, then at the rest of the table. Each pair of eyes now directed at him. “I invited him.” He heard (Y/N)’s voice coming from his right and he smiled at her. “He’s my guest.”
(Y/N) stood next to Jon, linking her arms with him. She looked at his face and smiled, then turned to the table and arched a brow, silently asking if they had any objections.
“A bastar-,” Cately’s words were taken from her mouth as Robert laughed.
“The more the merrier!” He knew that if Catelyn finished her words, his sister’s temper would flare up and as amusing it would be he still liked Catelyn, and it would cause some tension if his sister accidentally hurt her.
“Come Jon,” she led him to sit next to her. “Break your fast then you show me what the North has to offer.” Jon could feel the stares of everyone as he sat down. He smiled meekly at Robb and Arya who were staring at him unflinchingly.
‘…It is something I can always keep close to me -to draw from in my darkest hour like a ray of unspent sunshine…’
As he prepared the saddles for the horses, Jon felt a presence behind him, he turned around and saw that it was Jaime Lannister, in his golden glory. “I don’t know what you’re doing with (Y/N), but if you harm her in anyway I’ll be forced to kill you in her honour.” Jaime passed the bag that Jon needed. “And it won’t just be my wrath that you have to watch out for.” He nodded towards Tywin who was conversing with Littlefinger and Ned on the other side of the courtyard.
Jon nodded and swallowed the nervousness that he was feeling. He knew that (Y/N) was one of the most beloved people in Westeros and if he certainly did hurt her then nothing could ever save him, not even all of the Gods.
He watched as (Y/N) came out of the castle, still in her outfit from the morning, her dark hair flowing behind her. He spotted the Queen walking beside her and watched as they conversed quietly.
“Be careful (Y/N), the North is harsh and unforgiving.”
“Much like the Lannisters, Cersei, I will be fine.” She hugged her goodsister and bid her farewell. (Y/N) walked towards Jon as he held the two reins, passing one to her. “Are you ready Jon?”
He nodded and waited for her to saddle up, then joined her. Jon looked back at the courtyard, he could feel their stares, waiting for him to mess up but alas he did not. He looked at Cersei, her eyes never leaving his, he nodded at her hoping that he received the message that he will not hurt her and no harm will come to her. She nodded and walked towards her father.
Jon looked at (Y/N) who was now staring at him with curious eyes, “Don’t worry Jon, I’ll make sure I won’t fall off my horse so they won’t kill you.” She gave a hearty laugh one that usually comes from Robert. He gave her a small smile. Sensing the hesitancy and nervousness, she trotted her horse towards him. “I’m too interested in you Jon Snow, to ever let any harm come to you.”
This time he smiled at her genuinely. “Now let’s go, I can’t wait to see the different shades of grey I can find in the North!” He watched as she trotted her horse to the gates. Jon looked back at everyone, this time their stares more warm than before but still cautious.
As he rode alongside (Y/N), her words filling the cold air, he couldn’t help but feel right and complete. Even if he was a bastard, he can damn well show her how much of a man he could be.
‘…No matter what happens next, I will always be glad to know there is someone like you in the world.’