ON HOLD
SEASONS 4-8
JON SNOW X OC
"THE THINGS WE LOVE DESTROY US EVERY TIME."
The Wildings have always been a problem and now more so than ever. Butchering an entire village to send a message to The Night's Watch gets precedence, it's also ju...
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(N.) Mutual slaughter or destruction; a massacre
4.03 "Breaker of Chains"
• • •
Olly has not spoken to me since last night. I had hoped that he would come and see me before he went to sleep, but he did not. I laid awake a few hours before dawn broke, my mind running in circles over how I was going to be courted and married within a month if my parents had anything to do with it. Especially my father.
Olly was not yet of age to work alone in the fields and have his chores as Obrien had. So my father had twice as much to do, and I knew it was taking a toll. I had offered to help, but he had said the fields were no place for a woman, that I was to help mother instead.
Anger bubbled up into my chest. I was never going to be a wet nurse like mother had been. I had to put my needs and wants on hold when my brother died, and I became the stitching that held this family together.
Sitting up, I glanced out my small window the grass was once again covered in a light layer of ice and dew, and the bitter air cut through my long sleeved nightgown. Shivering, I quickly moved about the hall towards the bathroom. The water basin was freezing, and I cursed under my breath before splashing it on my face.
I needed to bathe and dress as quickly as possible to start breakfast and wait for my father to write the letter betrothing me to Damien Westbrook. I slipped on one of my prettier dresses. Light yellow fabric that reached my elbows and cinched beautifully at my waist. The dress was one that I loved and only wore for special occasions.
Today would be a special occasion.
Two strands of dark hair were braided and secured in a light green ribbon. My brown curls were shoulder length and fell in beautiful waves, and I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes seemed dull and not excited about today at all, so I pinched my cheeks smiled harder and calmed my beating heart.
Breakfast was even worse than dinner. Nor Father or Olly had said a word to me. My mother and I were the only ones holding dialogue.
The sounds of their utensils clanking against the wooden plates and the sound of Olly's teeth against his fork with each bite of food he took, was beginning to annoy me.
"Olly, please for the life of all that is holy, stop clanking your teeth on your fork," I sneered at him.
He leveled his angry stare at me and shoved his fork into his eggs, bringing it to his mouth where he purposefully brought his teeth down against the smooth wood.
