ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sᴇᴠᴇɴ : sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴠᴇ ʟɪᴏɴs

THE BRUTAL EVENT JUST A WEEK AGO WASN'T ENOUGH TO TEMPORARILY STOP THE CRUELTY OF KING'S LANDING. Crime was still occurring, the taverns were bustling with meaningless commotion, and King Robert was still ignoring his counsel. Everyone acted as if nothing had ever happened.

Jaelyn, however, had been experiencing petrifying nightmares.

She would be sitting on a horse, strapped down, while Ser Gregor galloped towards her. His enormous sword was dripping with blood and some even cascaded down his arm as the horse loudly neighed. His dead eyes would stare into hers and as he swung, she could see Cersei smiling from the secluded deck.

She'd wake up panting, her body dripping with sweat, and her eyes widened with fear. Eglantine would often run in her chambers, claiming she heard screaming. It would take hours to console her before she'd pass out from exhaustion.

Unfortunately from the stress, she'd bled for the first time.

She'd mistaken the moisture as sweat, but when she moved her covers in the sunlight she revealed the red stain. Despite being completely tired, she'd still managed to cry.

Eglantine was kind enough to sneak the sheets into the laundry quarters and dragged the crying girl into her washroom.

"There's nothing to cry about, Jaelyn," the septa assured as she wiped the crimson off her thighs. "Being on the rag is a statement of maturity."

"Then why do I feel so gross?" The younger asked through her harsh breaths. She was staring at the bucket of water that Eglantine used to clean her with, not wishing to see the mess she was creating.

"There's nothing gross about this, never think that way." she scolded as she finished up.

Jaelyn whispered an apology while the septa handed her a piece of cotton. It was soft to the touch but seemed to be shaped in an odd way, resembling a flat square.

"What is this for?" She asked curiously.

"This," the older woman began, "is what you will wear while you bleed. It's so blood doesn't run down your legs or stain your beautiful clothes."

She grimaced. "How long do I wear it?"

Eglantine laughed softly at the girl's innocence. "Change it every few hours but only wear them until you stop bleeding."

After the first few days, Jaelyn managed to get herself accustomed to it. Though it was awkward at times, she was able to keep her composure.

Jaelyn begged Eglantine not to inform Cersei of this because she'd heard stories of women getting sent off once they'd begun to bleed. The septa agreed to be silent begrudgingly and the two kept it under wraps. Not even Arya, who was attached to her hip, had even the slightest suspicion.

Once her time ended, she felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. She was aware that it would just occur again next month, but she was enjoying her time without the secret. It was freeing.

The girl sat by her window, the breeze sneaking in and pushing the hair out of her face politely. The lack of cotton between her legs was apparent and she could feel herself smiling into her palm. It was over for now.

As she looked out at the scenery, Arya ran into her room, breathless. The door slammed and caught her attention. The two stared at each other with wide eyes and panting chests.

"They want to kill him!" Arya shouted, her hands throwing themselves behind her head.

"Kill who?" Jaelyn asked as she stood up, walking over to the girl. She could see the panic in her eyes, almost like an alarmed animal. Arya was one of the bravest girls she knew, which is why her fear frightened her.

"My father!"

"Have you told him this?"

"Of course, but some guy from the Night's Watch came in and they had to throw me out! They never take me seriously." The younger girl huffed before she sat on the bed, her hands shaking.

"Who said this? Why would they want to kill the Hand?" Jaelyn pressed on, her eyebrows furrowing deeply as she rubbed Arya's shoulder comfortingly.

"I don't know who it was but they said something about... 'finding the bastard' and that the 'wolves are fighting the lions'."

"Wolves fighting the lions? I can assure you, Arya, that I haven't heard a thing about our families fighting."

The words seemed to be meaningless because Arya stood up and began to pace around the room. Her lip was locked between her front teeth and her hands were now dangling at her sides. She looked completely distracted.

"Arya? Did your father say anything about this?" Jaelyn inquired.

"No, he just..." Arya paused, her body facing the door.

"He just what?"

"He just looked at me with fear." Arya turned around and looked at Jaelyn with realization painted across her features. "That's how I know what I heard was true, because he was scared."

It was Jaelyn's turn to realize something—that she was out of the loop. She'd been so caught up with presenting herself as a crafty lion that she'd never even tried to actually be one. If she were a lion, she would've known what was going on in her own home.

"I have to go," Arya announced, racing towards the door.

"What? You can't just tell me all of this and leave!"

Arya opened the door before looking back at her friend. "I have to go back to my chambers before someone notices. I cannot risk not being able to protect my father."

And with that, she left.

That night Jamie killed a handful of Lord Eddard Stark's men and had his body dragged to his chambers, where he lay passed out until morning. Word spread that Lady Catelyn Stark had kidnapped Jaelyn's uncle, Lord Tyrion, and apparently had taken him to the Eyrie. The reason for his kidnapping remained unknown to her, but she knew he'd never do anything wicked.

Jaelyn had never had reason to be scared of her family dying, but she was starting to fear it now. The thought of her favorite—and only—uncle dying innocently was something she never prepared herself for. And so the false compassion Cersei was projecting onto people enraged her.

Cersei had never cared for her younger brother and it was clear to everyone. Her false smiles never appeared around him and she often called him immature names behind his back. Their dislike for each other was something they'd grown infamous for, but nobody dared to speak on it.

The girl wasn't the only one angry, Lord Eddard Stark was too. A few days after the attack, Eddard was helping the people after Robert took off hunting. Jaelyn had snuck into one of the meetings, only to hear that he was denouncing Ser Gregor Clegane after he attacked a village. He stripped away his titles, lands, ranks, status; he took away everything. He sentenced him to death. Eddard looked at the girl as he announced that he was summoning her grandfather, Tywin Lannister, to court or else he'd be an enemy of the crown. She'd never gotten along with the man but she could feel herself grow cold. Her family was feuding with the wolves, and it was obvious Eddard felt this way about her.

Perhaps that's why he wanted her to leave later that night when he summoned his daughters to his chambers. Arya spoke over him and told him that Jaelyn was fine to stay. The older man was too tired to argue against it.

As he walked closer, a cane supporting his weight, he spoke clearly and assertively.

"I'm sending you both back to Winterfell."

"What?" said Sansa.

"Listen—"

"What about Joffrey?" She asked, her voice raising considerably. Jaelyn could feel her heart grow heavy at her words and she gripped the bed beneath her.

"Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you're sending us home?" Arya asked, dismissing her sister's pitiful question.

Eddard looked at Sansa and then Arya. "What? No."

"Please, father. Please don't," Sansa begged

"You can't. I've got lessons with Syrio and Jaelyn's here," she said as she looked over at the blonde, "and she's my best friend."

Jaelyn smiled softly at her before she met eyes with their father, who looked very weak. She could feel herself sympathizing with him but she also felt unsafe. She wasn't sure where she stood with the elder wolf and it made her uncomfortable.

"This isn't punishment," he started. "I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety."

"Can we take Syrio back with us?"

"Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher?" Sansa fired at her, her blue eyes glossed over. Tears threatened to spill as her face grew red with anger. Jaelyn had never seen her like this but the red wolf ignored her gaze. "I can't go. I'm supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. I love him and I'm meant to be his queen and have his babies!"

"Seven Hells." Arya commented while Sansa began to grow even more emotional. Jaelyn felt completely out of place but she couldn't leave now, it was too late.

"When you're old enough, I'll make you a match with someone who's worthy of you," he paused, "someone who's brave and gentle and strong—"

"I don't want someone brave and gentle and strong. I want him!"

Arya chuckled at her response and their father held back his smile. Sansa looked over and glared at her younger sister but looked back to her father urgently. "He'll be the greatest king that ever was, a golden lion, and I will give him sons with beautiful blond hair."

The room went quiet for a moment, Jaelyn's gaze focused on their father. He seemed to have thought of something and she wondered what it could have been at a time like this.

"The lion's not his sigil, idiot. He's a Stag, like his father. Jaelyn's the only lion left, right?" Arya asked, turning to face her.

Jaelyn broke her stare and noticed the two girls staring at her. One was calm while the other was glaring with teary eyes. "Oh, I don't want to get involved," her words came out like a whisper.

"He is nothing like that old drunk king," the red wolf commented. She faced her father expectantly, hoping her argument stuck. The man just stared back, deep in his thoughts.

"Go on, girls. Get your septa and start packing your things."

That was the last time Jaelyn would ever hear Lord Eddard Stark's voice. She assumed at the moment that this was their last encounter, but she wasn't correct. This was not how they'd part. Chaos would ensue first.

She was tired of not being in on these secrets, but she knew it was hypocritical since she kept so many of her own.