REIGN | The Poppy Sequel

292 AC

HERMIONE HAD COME TO THE FORCED REALIZATION THAT Jon and Robb were her best friends, hell they were just about her only friends. The times they spent with each other were filled with adventures and laughter and fun, but there were also stark moments when Hermione remembered the difference between them and her.

These were one of those days.

Hermione Tatham watched impatiently as the two boys fought. Pretending that the twig swords which adorned their hands where sharpened steel as laughter spilled from their lips. Annoyed, Hermione sat on a stump the palm of her hand holding up her head as she played the damsel in distress.

I hate being a girl.

The thought had crossed her mind once before, but now it was a raging scream inside her head. She would rather do needlework than play the damsel in distress. It was a demeaning role fit for withering women who solely sought out men's attention. Visenya Targaryen never waited for her brother to save her, she was fierce and rode her dragon into battle.

Hermione recalled the words of Robb as she found her twig, a toothy grin wiped from her face as he looked at her quizzically. "Only me and Jon can play, you have to be the lady we save."

Her eyes had looked alarmingly at Jon. "All three of us can battle."

"But then what would we be fighting for?" Robb exclaimed.

"Why don't you be the damsel," she had snapped. "You whine like a girl anyways."

Robb glared. "Well too bad because you were born one. Now if you don't play along you won't be able to play at all."

It was the thought of having to do lessons with her Septa that made Hermione sit down on the stump she now occupied. Though when Robb finally knocked Jon down on his bottom he wasted no time running over to Hermione. "I won."

Raising her brows, Hermione outstretched her hand for the imaginary sword. "So, it's my turn?"

Robb nodded. "But first I need my reward," he said pretending to think for a couple of seconds and Jon got to his feet. "I think I deserve a kiss from the lady."

This made Hermione fume. Anger poured into her bloodstream and she felt heat burn her skin before she hopped off the stump. Swiftly knocking Robb down with all her strength the young Camelotean marched off back to Camelot castle.

It took Jon chasing after her and profusely trying to convince her to come back for fifteen minutes with the promise of beating Robb in the next round for her to play.

"You better win," she grunted marched her way back to the clearing and begrudgingly taking her place on the stump once more.

She watched in anticipation as the boys started. Jon was more aggressive this time around. His footwork surpassing that of Robb's skill and his advances harder than previously.

Robb lunged and Jon jumped out of the way. Then falling to his knees, Jon swung his twig low and smacked the back of Robb's knees causing him to stumble face forward into the ground.

The glee of seeing Robb lose cause a ruckus of happiness within Hermione. A ruckus that made her do something unimaginable.

Stepping off the stump, she glided over to Jon. Her hands outstretching to hold him by his neck and without a second thought, Hermione pressed her lips gently against his.

The kiss was chaste and innocent. Nevertheless, it caused outrage with Robb—the very point of doing so—and gleefully, Hermione made her way back to the castle, snickering all the way while Robb yelled after her about the unfairness.

Jon had come second to Robb in a lot of things except few: He was born first, and now he had gotten kissed before the Stark heir.

He had been caught off guard when Hermione had done it, but all through the night, he felt his lips tingle from the kiss. Later that night, during supper when nobody was looking Jon would lightly touch his fingers to his lips as if he could still feel her's there. And at night he would replay the moment over and over again before drifting off to sleep. Though futile, Jon would be determined not to dream of her.

However, still in the clearing of the Camelot garden, Robb was still complaining and John had started to once more chase after Hermione. "'Mione!" Jon called, as the sounds of crows met his ear. His feet crunched through the crips grass until he saw her laying on her back and a murder of swarming around her like vultures. "'Mione!"

Fear spread through Jon like the plague as he skidded to his knees. Grabbing her limb body, he pulled Hermione into his arms as her eyes shot open and Jon stared at her pure black irises. No pupil, no golden hue. "Hermione?"

Suddenly, Hermione opened her mouth and a blood-curdling scream erupted from her lips.

The birds screeched, swarming around them until all Jon could see were black iridescent feathers and their beady eyes. He clutched Hermione closer, shutting his eyes tight and burying his head into her hair. "Hermione, please!"

Then silence enveloped them. Slowly, he lifted his head to see the seven shrouded figures standing before them. "Go away!" The boy screamed. "Leave us alone go away!" Then everything went black.