The Price of Revenge

How to Save A Life

Kaela's head throbbed as she rose from the warmth of her bed, reaching out for the stone wall to steady herself as her legs shook beneath her. She felt as if she had drunk a dozen flagons of wine, her vision swimming with every step she took. With a groan, she reached for a cloak to wrap around her shoulders, covering her smallclothes up, knowing her insistent visitor would be back at any moment. Nor, could she blame him. She knew talk was spreading through the castle of the Stark's handmaiden who had succumbed to a strange fit, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, murmuring under her breath as if she was possessed. A young lady having a fit was not necessarily strange...but suffering such an affliction whilst standing on one's feet certainly was. Kaela could imagine what Jon had seen as he approached her the previous night, having seen it enough times with Melisandre.

When the Lord of Light spoke to her.

All those years Kaela thought Melisandre was half mad, speaking of the things she saw in the flames. And now? Perhaps that madness had finally reached her own mind. What else could it be—

"What are you doing?" A stern voice called out to her.

"Walking. It's this fascinating motion where I put one foot in front of the other" Kaela retorted, as Jon raised an eyebrow at her from where he stood in the doorway of her chambers.

"You should be resting" Jon insisted, marching over to her.

"I should be dressing Arya for her lessons—" Kaela began but was cut off as Jon's arm snaked around her waist and began tugging her back towards the bed.

She laughed as he all but threw her down on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest when he was done. With a roll of her eyes, Kaela pulled herself up to the top of her small wooden bed, wrapping the cloak further over her shoulders.

"Happy?" Kaela mocked, as his lips twitched into a smile.

"I'll be happy when the King leaves my father alone" Jon murmured, sitting down on the bed, causing it to creak.

"He'll have asked Lord Stark to be his Hand by now. Do you really think your father will refuse him? To spit on the great honour of serving a man such as Robert Baratheon?" Kaela scoffed, leaning back against the stone wall.

Sometimes she found it hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but luckily Jon suspected nothing. He still saw her as a sweet refuge from a faraway land. A friend. Not the assassin she had always hoped to be.

"I suppose not" Jon sighed, looking down at his hands.

"You should not be here, you know. What will Lady Catelyn think if she hears you visiting a handmaiden's chambers?" Kaela teased, nudging his thigh with her bare foot.

"It matters not. I am a bastard, after all" Jon mused, as Kaela kicked him with her foot, far harder this time.

"Āeksio tepagon nyke kustikāne. That's your answer for everything. Oh, I can't do this because I am a bastard. I can't speak to that Lady because I am a bastard. Next, you'll be saying you can't wipe your own arse due to your bastardy" Kaela scolded, as Jon's forehead wrinkled.

"Seven Hells, Kaela. Do not be afraid to speak your mind" Jon huffed, his shoulders rigid.

Feeling a slither of guilt at seeing the downtrodden look on her friend's face, Kaela pushed herself upwards and wiggled closer to him. She tentatively placed her hand on his leather-clad shoulder, causing him to turn to her with wide, sullen eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, Snow. I might just swoon into your arms" Kaela teased, before twisting around and flopping down onto Jon's lap, as a hearty laugh left the man's lips.