Naveena LANNISTER :||: Queen Series #2

11) I Can't Do This Right Now

Naveena
Coming out into the hallway, I jumped in surprise as Jon stepped off the opposite wall he was leaning against. Closing the door behind me, I threw him a raised eyebrow before making my way down the hall.

"You actually listened?" The tone of my voice indicated my annoyance. He'd been avoiding me the past couple of days, and I wanted to know why.

He sighed; eyes on anything but me. "I didn't think I could refuse the king's sister nor the Queen in the North."

"I'm not going to be the queen," I muttered, walking to the end of the hall and coming out into the brisk chill air. The balcony bordered the courtyard in the middle, where men training, some were repairing the fort, and my brother's soldiers were stationed around the keep.

"The Lady of Winterfell then."

"I'm not going to be the Lady either. I'll stay here."

He frowned. "But then Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon, they won't come home. They trust you; they know they'll be safe to return."

"I know," I stopped walking and faced him properly. "If Stannis wins Winterfell, I'll change my mind. Settle for being a lady and bring your siblings home."

"Settle for being a lady?" He mocked. "What? Is that not good enough for you? Did you refuse to support him because he wouldn't make you a queen?"

"That's what I told him," I nodded. "But in all honesty, he won't win. The North won't support his claim to the throne. They don't want to be ruled by southerners; they won't care about Stannis. And even if I did support him, my claim as the queen is a long way off."

This made him frown. "I don't think so." His voice was soft. "You were a great queen; the North loved you."

"No," I said harshly. "The Lord, the Heir and the Bastard of Winterfell loved me. Well, they used too. As for the rest of the North, I'm not sure." He looked away, facing the balcony railing, growing uncomfortable. "Anyway, this is not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Then get on with it," He almost snapped.

Glaring at him in warning, I continued. "Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, he was your friend."

"Yes," Jon nodded. "We met while I was his prisoner." I gazed at him questioningly, but he just shook his head. Another conversation to add to the long list we were going to have. Eventually. "I was supposed to convince him to bend-the-knee to Stannis, who would give his people land once they'd fought in his war. Mance refused. I tried to tell him that it would get his people south of the Wall and refusing would be a terrible mistake. But I failed."

He bowed his head, shaking it in dismay, his long curly hair shifting with the movement. I found myself staring at the dark tendrils, wanting nothing more but to run my hands through them. Snapping out of my daydream, I focused on what he was saying. "He spent most of his life joining together all ninety clans of wildlings, trying to keep them alive and get them south of the wall and they finally get here, and he can't bend-the-knee to get his people across the Wall? How much pride does a man have to do that to his people?"

I tilted my head. "I don't understand. Why are the wildlings so desperate to get South of the Wall?"

"You wouldn't understand," He sighed, and I was sick of him talking to me like he was annoyed by my presence.

Snatching my hands off the railing, I stepped back, the movement making him lookup. "If you would rather me march south to war and get slaughtered in the process, I will, only to get away from you. You speak to me as though I were an inconvenience, and you're downright rude. Something I had not expected to be greeted with here, not from you." His eyes widened as my voice grew increasingly harsher. "Don't ever accuse me of choosing power over family again. The Starks are my family, they're the family I wanted and the ones I pledged to protect with my life.