The White Wolf of Winterfell

[ five ]

nobody but us,

with nothing but trust.

*

It has been a week since Alyss was punished to work in the kitchens and in that week she still hadn't manage to kill Jon Snow. There she was in the middle of a chaos with people running around worried that they won't make enough food for the feast and all she could think about was killing their king.

She spoke to him on her first night there, she could've killed him then but she didn't. Instead she wanted to stay and talk to him that night. When they went on their own ways he had told her that he wished to have her cook for him again, he gave her a smile and bow, and he left. His politeness and gentlemanly ways had her heart soaring through the skies.

She hadn't seen him much, nor did she see much of Ser Davos and she was glad for it. Ser Davos had a way of reading people that was much more complex than Alyss, she feared that one right look from him and she would cave in, tell him everything he needed to know. She would be hanged or beheaded for plotting to kill the king, even if she was sent by the mad queen.

"Alyss! Stop standing about and do your job!" the elderly cook screamed at her while carrying a large pot filled with potato soup.

"Yes, sorry." She muttered before going about. She started skinning the rabbits and cutting up their meat for the stew.

*

The feast was a success from what Alyss gathered it was the fourth or fifth time she saw the King and Ser Davos. They were again sitting in the ancestral seats of the north while Alyss stayed behind in the kitchens, cooking up more food.

She had heard that wildlings were also at the feast, that they were good friends with the king, it made her remember the stories Ser Davos had told her, when Jon Snow was still a lord commander and how his brothers betrayed him for siding with the wildlings.

For some reason, him bringing them to the feast made her fear for his life.

She sat down on a chair by the cutting tables and wiped her forehead, despite the horrid weather, she was doing so much work she had started sweating. The rest of the cooks had left her to do the work when she convinced them that she had no taste for feasts and gatherings.

"Why aren't you celebrating, my lady?" His familiar voice surprised her, she jumped off her seat and stared at the King in the North in shock, she then laughed.

"I told you, I'm no lady." She said with a shake of her head and a smile on her face.

Jon gazed at her appearance, her messy black hair coming out of its braid, her flour painted face and dirty apron. Even if she was covered in blood and dead animals, she would still look beautiful, he was certain of it.

"Ser Davos told me that you've worked with him on several occasions; may I ask what you did before you came here?" Jon took a seat facing the beauty.

She sat down but not before she gave the door behind him a glance and asked, "Are you sure it's alright for you to be in here, your grace?"

He chuckled, "I'm sure they're all grown enough to take care of themselves... I thought I told you to call me Jon."

Alyss hummed, "I was a trader, most of the stuff I traded had to be shipped across the Narrow Sea."

"I heard someone mentioned that you're a gypsy... may I ask why?" He asked politely.

She didn't answer him, "I traded many things, gold from Yi Ti, lenses, mirrors, wine, cheese even!"

Jon noticed the change in her posture, he let it go. He then watched as she continued to speak, her olive skin glowing in the candles once again. Her common tongue was excellent but if you really listen, there was still a slight foreign accent that slipped here and there.

"Where are you from?" He asked, putting his elbows on his knees, so his face came closer to hers. He did it unintentionally.

"Myr. I'm from Myr." She answered as she observed his features in the dimly lit place.

A scar from his left brow to his cheekbone, a few other small ones, it made him look like a real king. Battle scars. She thought as she imagined whether or not he had them on his body as well.

"So you know Valyrian?"

"Aye. Myrish Valyrian and High Valyrian." She boasted in happiness. It had been long since someone asked about her.

"Perhaps you can teach me one day." Jon said, his voice low as he hung his head and smiled to himself.

"Perhaps." She replied.

"How long have you been a trader?"

"Since I was 13, I stopped after I turned 17."

"Why did you stop?"

She paused, not wanting to tell him about her affair with the royal family, "The traveling was too much. It got rather boring on the ships." That was only half true.

I fucked the queen's brother, she wanted to say, I fell in love and so did he.

"So do others call you Alyss of Myr?" he chuckled when she opened her mouth and laughed.

"Aye, I am quite famous."

They continued talking; Jon told her stories about his best friend, Samwell Tarly and his family. He promised to introduce her to Sansa, his lady sister and maybe one day even take her to see the crypts.

Jon had acknowledged her clothing while they conversed with one another, she wore a dress like all the other handmaidens and cooks but there was something different. At first he thought it was just how she looked, as she was a foreigner but then he realized that she had changed them a lot. She had on accessories, necklaces and rings. Her hair was let down, her shoulders shown, her dress was not as neat as the others, it seemed winter did not take her foreign spirits away and he thanked her for it.

The north could do with some colors.

It was nearing the break of dawn, they both realized. Their conversations had been flowing so smoothly they both lost track of time. Jon stood up and told her that he had to go as tomorrow he had to go into Winter Town and recruits new working men in the castle.

"You should get some rest, Alyss of Myr." He said as he reached his hand down to her face and caressed it ever so softly.

"Can we do this again soon?" he asked in a soft near whispering voice. Alyss could only nod as her breath was most definitely taken away. "Tomorrow?" he asked again, "Aye." Her voice broke midst reply. She blinked a couple of times before she saw him smile at her.

He nodded once again and left without another word.

I'm never going to kill him. She thought once he was out the door. I'm not going to kill him.

*