✓ | THINKING OF SNOW (J.SNOW)

~Chapter Seventeen~

Royal Guests

"Are you finished yet?" Livia called from the other side of the screen, her foot audibly tapping, impatiently, on the stone floor of Cynthia's room. "One moment." Cynthia shouted back, still trying to figure out where she needed to put her arm through. "There." She huffed - not particularly happy with having to wear a dress, but at the same time it wasn't awful. 

She stepped carefully out from behind the screen, holding the lilac silk in her hand so that she did not trip over the hem of the dress, to find Livia perched on the edge of the bed, staring wide eyed back at her. "You look...Beautiful." She smiled with pride, and stood to join her in the centre of the room. It was nice, in all honesty, to have her sister there, when they were, for once, not arguing or bickering about anything but instead getting along. They had never had that sought of a relationship until now. "As do you." Cynthia smiled back, their hands intertwined. "Let's go meet the King."

The Starks stood in an ordered line in front of a small crowd, and behind them stood the Iris family, in order of oldest to youngest. Livia was blushing beside Cynthia, as Robb continually turned to glance back at her, wearing his priceless, charming smile and a wink to send her giggling uncontrollably. It was cute, to some degree, to watch her sister fret so childishly over someone like Robb, but if she'd been betrothed to someone so handsome, she'd more than likely be acting the same. Stood behind her family was Jon and Theon, because they were technically not a part of the Stark family - which pissed Cynthia off to no end - but it meant she was stood directly in front of him, which was not that bad. 

"Nice haircut," She lent back, and spoke under her breath so only Jon would hear. And he did; he cocked a dark eyebrow at her, and smirked: "Nice dress." He mused, which only made Cynthia's smirk tighten. "You can have it if you'd like." She whispered back. "It's not my colour," Jon replied, which made Cynthia laugh quietly to herself. Her father shot her a warning look, to be quiet, which she obeyed, but it was difficult to keep a straight face when Jon was stood so closely behind her. She couldn't focus on the King or his family, she couldn't think straight at all. Not even as everyone fell to their knees, she could still tell he was there. 

When Robert insisted he and Ned visit the crypt, Cynthia felt something press against her waist, tugging at the fabric of her dress. "Want to go somewhere else?" A low voice breathed into her ear, sending shivers all over her body, and yielding her unable to do anything else but nod her reply. She felt his warm skin clasp around her hand, before her body was pulled back threw the crowds and away from their families to somewhere unknown. 

"You do look lovely," Jon said, accompanying Cynthia into the woodland area confined in Winterfell's walls. Though Cynthia was blushing from his compliment, she smiled devilishly any way and said: "If you are attempting to get me to wear dresses more often, you will be disappointed." He laughed at her, and pulled her one final time towards a log, on which the pair sat blissfully together. "Here I was thinking you were trying to impress me." They both laughed, no longer burdened with expectations or need for good appearances. For the first time in a while, they were just themselves, alone in the woods - no families, no kings, no obligations to anyone else. Just the two of them, alone, together. "Perhaps I was." Cynthia smiled, and stood to wander about the small woods gracefully. Jon watched from where he sat, his dark eyes reflecting the small stabs of golden luminescence, which filtered through the green and red leaves over head. 

"It is beautiful here." She observed, holding the fabric of her dress like a lady, in the way her mother had taught her as a child - a lesson she'd never put to good use until now. "I've always found the view to be memorising." Jon hummed, though his eyes did not appear to be fixated on the 'view' that Cynthia was remarking about, but rather Cynthia herself. "How lucky you are, to come here so often." "I am only permitted to come here when Lady Catelyn is not," Jon replied regretfully, clearly Lady Stark's poor treatment of him stretched much further than simply not allowing him to dine with him. "I am sorry you must suffer under her roof - you do not deserve such abuse from her." Cynthia sighed, sitting, once again, beside him on the same log she'd occupied earlier. "Better her roof than none at all." Jon shrugged, and despite the sadness in his voice he smiled at her anyway. It was a sweet, soft smile that Cynthia had only seen on a handful of occasions, one she wished she could see more of - but then with Jon's state of life, it was understandable why he would be so brooding and miserable all of the time, Catelyn kept him that way. 

"Do you remember the first time you saw me?" Cynthia inquired in a much chipper tone, moments later. "Yes, of course." Jon said back with a curious frown. "What did you first think I would be like?" She asked excitedly, suddenly eager to know what her first impression on Jon had been. She remembered what she'd initially felt about him, she remembered it as though she had felt it yesterday; she wanted to know if Jon's first feelings were anything alike hers. "I knew you wouldn't be anything like your sister." He stated honestly, his dark eyes boring into her own, "How did you know?" Cynthia furrowed her brow, intrigued as to how he'd made such a conclusion. "Though you look similar, you didn't appear to be anything alike." Jon chuckled, that same, breathtaking grin returning: "Aside from dressing differently, she held herself as though she were a princess - you didn't." "And how did I hold myself?" Cynthia laughed at him, watching him puzzle his way to a response: "Like you knew your worth, your status. You didn't pretend to be any higher or lesser than you are." Cynthia nodded, pleasantly surprised at his words. She'd wondered if, perhaps, after her mother's fretting over her, she might have come across too much like her sister to be deemed a nice person. It was refreshing to know she had not been too snobbish in her first appearance to Jon. "What of me?" Jon asked next, his smile, thankfully, not fading. "I thought you were mysterious - as though you had something to hide, or something to be ashamed of." Cynthia replied, all of her words soaked in honesty. "You were partially correct." Jon laughed, knowing better than anyone that Cynthia understood how he felt about his birth, and how that affected his standing in life. "As were you." Cynthia replied, still smiling, giddily back at him. 

"We'd best head back." Jon spoke up after a moment of staring and smiling at one another, "They might miss us." "Just a second longer." Cynthia sighed, holding Jon's hand to prevent him from leaving. He stared at their interlocked hand, before his gaze met hers again. He didn't say anything, nor did he need to, but he sat down beside her anyway, and just enjoyed the serenity of being alone with someone understanding.