✓ | THINKING OF SNOW (J.SNOW)

~Chapter Ten~

Lady Catelyn

"How was your ride, this afternoon?" Arya asked curiously - having insisted that Cynthia help her get ready for that evening's meal, the pair now perched on the edge of Arya's bed as the older girl braided her dark hair into a neat due, a talent Arya hardly possessed. Cynthia wasn't even sure where she knew it from, presumably her mother or sister but then she'd never really been one to practice hairstyles when it wasn't an extremely important occasion, which never came frequently for their family. "Very pleasant, thank you. Your brother's took us through a delightful path in the Wolf's Wood." Cynthia sighed blissfully, recalling the afternoon she'd spent with, predominantly, only one of the younger girl's brothers. "Your sister seems very nice," Arya commented, clearly having been told that was what she should say, whether she believed it or not, and given Cynthia's encounter with Arya's mother, she wouldn't put it past her to force such opinions on her children - those she actually interacted with. "It would appear she can be when she tries," Cynthia chuckled to herself, knowing that her sister could be a very talented actress when she put her mind to it, or when she wanted something. "I don't get along with my sister either, all Sansa cares about is being a lady." Arya grumbled, clearly being a lot like Cynthia in that respect. "Some girls do not want to sew, some girls prefer to do something meaningful with their time." Cynthia didn't wish to encourage the girl, or rather she did, but she knew she shouldn't unless she wanted an earful from Catelyn Stark again. "Is that what your sister is like? A lady?" Arya asked innocently, looking up with growing eyes. Cynthia smiled back at her sweetly - Arya reminded her of what she wanted Alyssa to be like. Her younger sister had a habit of copying Cynthia but was seemingly not as strong minded as her older sister, and thus also had a tendency to do as her mother said more often than Cynthia ever did. "I'm afraid so. Her and Sansa have a lot in common in that respect." Cynthia replied, not knowing which of the two girls seemed worse at this point. But then, it hardly mattered when she had to spend just as much time with them both. 

"There, all done." She said, taking a step back to examine the work she'd done on Arya's hair, which, in her opinion, didn't look half bad for something she'd done out of memory and lack of experience. "You look lovely." Cynthia patted her head sensitively, and looked at out her own outfit. Breeches and the nicest shirt she owned; that was as nice as her appearance was ever going to get, and so if this wasn't good enough she was afraid nothing she bothered to wear ever would be, so her mother would simply have to learn to deal with it. "You do too." Arya replied sweetly, smiling innocently up at the girl who was barely any taller than herself. "Come on, we'd best get down there before your mother starts wondering what I've done with you." Cynthia chuckled, placing a casual arm around the girl's shoulders before leading her to the door. This was going to be an interesting night. 

When the pair arrived to dinner, Cynthia's family were practically camouflaged, emerged in the Starks so well you could hardly tell the difference between families. Cynthia wasn't sure if she liked that thought or not; it wasn't the Starks that ruined the equation, though Catelyn didn't come across as the nicest of women in Cynthia's life, it was her own family that put her off. Her elder brother and Theon Greyjoy were suddenly best of friends, as were Livia and Sansa - neither of which seemed to be a good union in Cynthia's eyes. Nevertheless, with Arya at her side, she braved the fray and took a seat amongst them all, trying to distract herself from anything that might be problematic and prevent the night from carrying on as quickly as was possible. 

But it was as she took her seat that she noticed a distinct lack of company - which, despite her previous mind set, made her writhe in her seat and made her seethe with anger. "Where is Jon?" She asked innocently enough, trying to conceal the obvious anger in her voice long enough to get the question across loudly and without posing a threat or any type of misconceived rudeness. Everyone around the table fell silent suddenly. "Excuse me?" Catelyn Stark was the first to reply, though not with a valid answer, obviously. It was then that all the Stark children averted their eyes, visibly cringing at the upcoming debate. "Jon? Is he ill?" Cynthia feigned ignorance, ready to blow her top at the mere mention of his heritage that Catelyn might dare use as an excuse. Even Ned Stark seemed to be bowing his head now. "Why would he be ill?" Catelyn said with a voice that tried hard to sound sincere, though clearly reeked with venom; but not necessarily towards Cynthia, but towards the bastard consuming their conversation. "Well I naturally assumed he was, given he isn't eating with us." Cynthia continued to challenge her, despite the warning glances almost every member of her family were giving her - except Alec. He smirked at her, his familiar eyes flittering between his younger sister and Lady Stark as though egging Cynthia on. "He doesn't wish to eat with us this evening." Catelyn replied quietly, though Cynthia wasn't prepared to accept that as a reasonably answer. "Why not?" She inquired immediately, watching everyone around the table continue to eat and look away in awkward discomfort. "He is busy." "Surely whatever it is he is doing can wait until after he has eaten?" Cynthia was persistent, she promised Jon she'd say what needed to be said to Catelyn Stark and here she was, upholding that promise.  "Apparently not." Catelyn barked back through gritted teeth, hardly looking at Cynthia anymore, though Cynthia presumed she was more or less only seeing red at the moment given her blind rage that was only being further induced by her constant questioning. "How rude of him. The least he could've done was apologise to us, your guests, for his absence. Isn't that the custom for a family member if they will not be attending supper?" Cynthia was not going to back down yet, and clearly Catelyn was on the verge of practically exploding at this rate. 

By now Robb was sniggering in his seat, where he was positioned directly opposite Cynthia - his two sisters were outstanded at someone's ability to stand up to their mother, and his two brothers seemed more interested in the possibility of having their other brother at supper again soon than the actual argument. Theon was slyly amused by Cynthia's courage and bold defiance, from where he sat beside Cynthia's brother all he did was smirk at her in an entertained fashion. Her brother, as said before, seemed eager for her to persist, unlike her sister whom looked to be about to pass out, and the twins hadn't the slightest idea what was going on and why everyone had paused their meals.  

"Perhaps someone should send for him, insist he explain himself to us at once-" "He isn't family." Catelyn muttered in vicious, malicious, anger. She had her eyes narrowed directly at Cynthia, her jaw set stern in irritation and disgust, presumably, but Cynthia didn't care at all for how she felt towards her, she'd got what she needed to hear. "I'm sorry? I must be mistaken, see I thought you just said that Jon wasn't family, which is obviously my mistake because-" Cynthia tried again, feigning less irritation than she currently felt, though prepared to, in any second, tear Catelyn to pieces on account of her way of treating Jon. But Lady Stark seemed relatively enthusiastic to cut Cynthia short in her attempt to enrage her more. "Because what? He is a bastard - not legitimately a Stark and thus not family." Catelyn snapped abruptly, fist hammered onto the table in an instant that otherwise would've made Cynthia laugh at how mad she was, but instead only fueled her own anger more. "Are you actually being serious? You are blaming an innocent boy for whatever unintentional mistakes his parents made - you are excluding and isolating a child that had no say in coming into this world, and I'm sure had he, he would certainly have chosen one without such a vindictive women to detach him and ridicule him for her husbands unfaithful behaviour." Cynthia exclaimed in utter astonishment, and it would seem Jon's siblings shared in the same shock and horror at what their mother had just said about their favourite sibling. Even Sansa seemed disgusted. "Cynthia that's quite enough-" "No it is not!" Cynthia barked back at her mother, who fell silent in mere seconds. "Jon had no control over his parents, or whether they were married or not, and yet he gets saddled with a name that you use against him. He is as much part of this family as you are, and it would appear he cares more about your children than you could possibly do if you are so willing to neglect and bully one of them. So, Lady Stark, if you think it so offensive to have a bastard sitting amongst your guests I advice you next time to ask for our views as unlike you we do not despise such company as you do and are not as prejudice as I'm sure you like to assume." 

And with the rant and heated shouting match brought to a close by Cynthia's harsh and necessary words, she stood quickly and stormed out, unprepared to sit in a room with such a bitch as Lady Stark. The nerve of that woman. But it was as she walked from the dinner hall, and heard nothing but silence in her wake, Cynthia found herself stumbling across the company she'd fought so faithfully for only seconds ago. "Busy, huh?" She jested, finding Jon sat solemnly on the bottom of the nearby stairs with a book in his hands. "It couldn't wait - besides, who needs to eat." He shrugged with a soft smile, one that clearly was impressed and pleased at Cynthia's outburst. "Your welcome." She smiled back at him, going to walk up the stairs, "For what?" She heard Jon shout from behind her whilst she continued to walk away. "Pissing her off!" Cynthia shouted, sensing the matching smirks on both their faces. If there was one thing she knew for a fact, it was that Jon hated that woman just as much as she hated him. And now, just as much as she hated Cynthia.