| CHAPTER THREE; Ironic Traitor-Hater & Her Companions | ——————————————————————————
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"A sweet face oft hides a sinners heart."
— George R. R. Martin
—
WAR WAS ONLY JUST beginning. Orphée was one year older, one year wiser. One year closer to her fate. But one year farther from her family. "Orphée, come hear this joke!" Joffrey shouted happily, waving Orphée over. She sighed but smiled falsely either way, holding her skirts up and quickly walking over.
As is briefly explained, the two sisters were growing used to being stuck in the lion's den. While Sansa was learning from Cersei, Orphée was learning from Joffrey. Whom was actively preying on her, despite his betrothal to Sansa. But she knew this. That is why she always kept a certain someone in her room, hidden if anyone came in. Not even Petyr Baelish's little birds knew about this certain someone.
As for Arya Stark? Well, short story. She was easily assumed dead. It did not phase Orphée as much as it should have. In fact, she didn't spare Arya a thought. Orphée knew everything, she suspected everything. She was always the bright one of the litter, always using her mind even when unnecessary.
"It is not much of a joke." Someone whispered in Orphée's ear before Joffrey spoke.
"Ever heard the tale of Rhaenrya Targaryen?" Joffrey asked with a smile. Orphée had not, she shook her head, "She was a whore Targaryen woman. Rhaenrya The Whore Targaryen was murdered by her brother, or rather, his dragon." He smirked.
"Tis quite funny, my king." Orphée smiled, letting out a giggle. Orphée had no problem with Targaryens, but she didn't like people who did not follow their marriage duties. She knew that much of Rhaenrya Targaryen, Rhaenrya did not follow the laws. Orphée sided with the Greens, not the Blacks. All while the rest of her siblings were in favor of the blacks and their desire to change tradition.
But it was not exactly why she disliked the long-gone Rhaenrya Targaryen. She heard the tales of how she lied and betrayed her best friend and siblings, she scoffed at the thought. She hated traitors, but it was quite ironic that fact. Which, everyone would soon see why.
—
"You must!" Orphée harshly whispered to the boy who stood three inches taller than her, the boy who was two years older than her and hidden in the dark corner of her chambers. If anyone had walked in and caught them, they would not see the boy. They would believe that Orphée had gone mad, just like the Targaryens. Due to the fact that it looked like she was speaking to her wall.
"I will not!" The boy harshly whispered back, his hand suddenly grasping her neck and spinning her around to press her against the wall.
"Unhand me." Orphée calmly ordered him, a smile playing on her lips. The boy smirked and leaned closer to her, playing with the frill of her dress.
"I do as I please." He mumbled. But as Orphée tried to shove him off, he squeezed her neck tighter and pushed her toward her bed. If you are wondering why her dire-wolf hadn't pounced and ripped the boys neck apart...it is most obvious. The boy was a rough one, that much is true. But he would never purposely harm the girl he loved so much. The only person he loved. He pushed her over and stood in between her legs, hovering over her. "You fail to realize, I am in this room day and night. I watch over you as you bathe, change, and sleep. I protect you as your dire wolf does, standing beside me each night. But I could easily snap its pup-like neck and slit your throat." He sighed, "But how could I ever do that to my beloved?" He asked before her chamber doors were swung open.
As Sandor Clegane entered and looked around the room, he saw no one but Orphée in the room. The boy was gone. "I thought I heard banging around, then I came to check on you...I heard speaking. Are you sick, Girl?" Sandor wondered, staring at Orphée whose face was flushed pink with embarrassment.
"I'm quite alright. I'm afraid I had a fright after falling into a nap." Orphée lied, smiling as the innocent little girl she was supposed to be.
Sandor felt an eerie presence staring straight at him, but he saw no one except for the seemingly harmless little girl lying on her bed. He did not want to be in her chambers, but he was ordered by Joffrey to make sure she stayed unharmed by anyone. "Someone in ere'?" Sandor dared to ask, placing his hand on his sword and stepping forward.
Orphée slowly stood, half of her body emitting into the dark shadows of her chambers. Thanatos, Orphée's dire wolf began growling, walking toward Sandor. Sandor stiffed, staring firmly at Orphée who had an amused smile on her childlike face. "Nothing to fret about. Thanatos will not harm you...as long as I don't order her to." Orphée sighed tiredly, "Goodnight— Hound."
Aye, the small girl had made her point, Sandor thought. His face was firm, neither he nor Orphée blinking. He slowly began backing away in order to exit the room, making sure never to turn his back on her. Something was off, but Sandor wasn't about to put his life on the line to solve the 'childish' mystery. He wouldn't allow himself to be included in this game of child play...or so he thought.
—
Later on in the night, late. When Orphée was fast asleep, Thanatos and the boy standing in the corner, watching over her. Sansa entered, her blanket wrapped around her due to her pajamas being under the blanket. She shut Orphée's door, "Orphée, are you awake?" She sniffled, a tear running down her pale cheek.
But Orphée was not awake. Sansa frowned and gripped her blanket tighter. Thanatos and the boy stayed aware, they stood on guard. They trusted no one but themselves and their beloved girl who was currently sleeping vulnerably in her bed. "My sweet sister, I hope your dreams aren't as frightening as mine. You must think you're in this alone, but I'd never abandon you. I'd stake my life on it." Sansa whispered as she walked closer to Orphée, now standing beside her bed. Staring lovingly down at the little girl. "I just wish that you were not being led down the wrong path by the cruel. I shall pray for you. Every time I am on my knees, I pray that you feel the comfort and love that you have been deprived of for many years." Sansa whispered, placing a hand on her little sister's ice-cold cheek, leaning down, and placing a kiss on her nose.
It was no secret that Ned Stark spent more time with his bastard and animal-like daughter, Arya. It was also well-known that Catelyn adored Brandon the most. She loved that Sansa was the epitome of an obedient princess and soon-to-be queen. And as any mother, she favored her youngest, Rickon. Since he was the newest in the world. The newest version. Robb was her oldest, he was to be king in the north. Of course, she was proud of him. But what of Orphée? What was to become of her? Catelyn did not know. The only thing she thought she had successfully done, was attempting to manipulate the young girl into hating Jon Snow.
But no one could manipulate Orphée, she knew more than some. She chose who she liked and who she trusted. She knew who would work well with her, and who would inevitably mess all of her plans up.
