Bolton Rising Part 44 - Alayne & Petyr
Alayne slept, curled into Petyr, head resting on his chest. She slept
deeply, peacefully, lulled to sleep by their lovemaking, the steady beat
of Petyr's heart and the softly falling snow outside the window. My
love, she'd thought as she'd drifted off. This is the man who I will
spend my life with... I will bear him children and we will be happy,
like this, always. It wasn't long before she'd succumbed to sleep, and
when she slept, she dreamed. And this dream was not of Sandor Clegane,
but the man beside her. This dream was of Petyr.
The snow fell over a silent world, so quiet she could hear the whispers of the flakes as they touched the ground. It was a beautiful scene, the castle garden covered with freshly fallen snow, untouched, but for the footprints she left behind her. She didn't belong here. Alayne felt an ache deep in her tummy, one of loss, empty, longing for home, for what once had been. She was dressed warmly, a woolen gown, high boots and a white cloak fashioned of fox fur, and did not as yet feel the cold.
It was several moments before she realized that she was kneeling in the snow. How it had come to this, alone in a strange place, kneeling in the dark, in the snow. How had her song gone so very wrong? She remembered the snows of her childhood, the snows of home, snowball fights and as she thought she began to press the snow into snowballs. Not quite knowing why she did so. Slowly she began to build, the snow forming easily into towers and walls, turrets, a keep and soon she realized this was home. She built carefully, growing colder and wetter by the moment, but she kept on. When it came time to build the covered bridges, Alayne struggled to keep them from collapsing. Suddenly she heard a warm voice behind her and looked up to find Petyr watching her.
Smiling, Petyr asked if he could come into her castle and she warned him to be careful, although somehow she knew he would be. He circled the perimeter, admiring her work and guessed that it was her home. He had dreamed of it, he said, when her mother had gone there to marry her father. He'd known her mother, when she was a girl, Alayne knew. Alayne found herself telling him of her home, of the way it was always warm indoors, even in winter. She told him of the glass gardens and he helped her make lattice work roofing to represent the glass that had covered those gardens. She smiled to see them, pleased that he was so kind to her and so clever, touched that he would take the time to build a castle in the snow with her, when she knew he must have other, more pressing duties.
She looked up at him and Petyr touched her face, pleased to see her smile. Alayne realized that for the first time since she arrived in this place, she felt happy. The feeling was strange to her, foreign, and a bit intoxicating. He knelt beside her in the snow and together they constructed the broken tower of her home. Alayne scooped some of the snow off of the top, making it "broken," then without truly thinking, she tossed the handful of snow at Petyr. It hit him in the face and he cried out, surprised. He told her that she was unchivalrous to have done such a thing, but he was smiling. She stood, wondering how she had become so bold with him. It must be my home that gives me this courage, she thought. She felt challenging, not so consciously naïve as she had been with him previously. Petyr must have sensed this change in her, as he stood, stepping closer to her. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her. His mouth was soft on hers, and she tasted mint as his kiss deepened. She felt her body respond to his, returning the kiss, beginning to melt...
All at once, Petyr shifted and she felt herself surfacing, her eyes opened and she realized that she was waking. She felt Petyr's solid warmth beside her and she longed to wake him, to kiss him again and again, to tell him what she had remembered. Because somehow Alayne was certain, these dreams were not her imaginings, they were memories. She didn't know how she could explain this without sounding foolish and yet she knew. She longed for her home, the castle she had built was a real place and she could see it clearly in her mind's eye. Suddenly she knew what she must do. Silently slipping from the bed, she wrapped herself in a soft, knitted throw and hurried downstairs. Their luggage was still piled by the front door and she quickly opened bags and suitcases, rummaging for her winter clothes. Dressing herself warmly, pulling on two pairs of socks and heavy boots. Wrapping a white woolen scarf around her neck, she donned her hooded winter coat, light blue, lined with soft white fox fur. Alayne pulled on warm white gloves as she hurried to the back door. She could see the snow covered garden through the glass. The only movement was that of the falling snow, otherwise the garden was still and quiet, untouched.
Alayne opened the door...
The snow fell over a silent world, so quiet she could hear the whispers of the flakes as they touched the ground. It was a beautiful scene, the castle garden covered with freshly fallen snow, untouched, but for the footprints she left behind her. She didn't belong here. Alayne felt an ache deep in her tummy, one of loss, empty, longing for home, for what once had been. She was dressed warmly, a woolen gown, high boots and a white cloak fashioned of fox fur, and did not as yet feel the cold.
It was several moments before she realized that she was kneeling in the snow. How it had come to this, alone in a strange place, kneeling in the dark, in the snow. How had her song gone so very wrong? She remembered the snows of her childhood, the snows of home, snowball fights and as she thought she began to press the snow into snowballs. Not quite knowing why she did so. Slowly she began to build, the snow forming easily into towers and walls, turrets, a keep and soon she realized this was home. She built carefully, growing colder and wetter by the moment, but she kept on. When it came time to build the covered bridges, Alayne struggled to keep them from collapsing. Suddenly she heard a warm voice behind her and looked up to find Petyr watching her.
Smiling, Petyr asked if he could come into her castle and she warned him to be careful, although somehow she knew he would be. He circled the perimeter, admiring her work and guessed that it was her home. He had dreamed of it, he said, when her mother had gone there to marry her father. He'd known her mother, when she was a girl, Alayne knew. Alayne found herself telling him of her home, of the way it was always warm indoors, even in winter. She told him of the glass gardens and he helped her make lattice work roofing to represent the glass that had covered those gardens. She smiled to see them, pleased that he was so kind to her and so clever, touched that he would take the time to build a castle in the snow with her, when she knew he must have other, more pressing duties.
She looked up at him and Petyr touched her face, pleased to see her smile. Alayne realized that for the first time since she arrived in this place, she felt happy. The feeling was strange to her, foreign, and a bit intoxicating. He knelt beside her in the snow and together they constructed the broken tower of her home. Alayne scooped some of the snow off of the top, making it "broken," then without truly thinking, she tossed the handful of snow at Petyr. It hit him in the face and he cried out, surprised. He told her that she was unchivalrous to have done such a thing, but he was smiling. She stood, wondering how she had become so bold with him. It must be my home that gives me this courage, she thought. She felt challenging, not so consciously naïve as she had been with him previously. Petyr must have sensed this change in her, as he stood, stepping closer to her. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her. His mouth was soft on hers, and she tasted mint as his kiss deepened. She felt her body respond to his, returning the kiss, beginning to melt...
All at once, Petyr shifted and she felt herself surfacing, her eyes opened and she realized that she was waking. She felt Petyr's solid warmth beside her and she longed to wake him, to kiss him again and again, to tell him what she had remembered. Because somehow Alayne was certain, these dreams were not her imaginings, they were memories. She didn't know how she could explain this without sounding foolish and yet she knew. She longed for her home, the castle she had built was a real place and she could see it clearly in her mind's eye. Suddenly she knew what she must do. Silently slipping from the bed, she wrapped herself in a soft, knitted throw and hurried downstairs. Their luggage was still piled by the front door and she quickly opened bags and suitcases, rummaging for her winter clothes. Dressing herself warmly, pulling on two pairs of socks and heavy boots. Wrapping a white woolen scarf around her neck, she donned her hooded winter coat, light blue, lined with soft white fox fur. Alayne pulled on warm white gloves as she hurried to the back door. She could see the snow covered garden through the glass. The only movement was that of the falling snow, otherwise the garden was still and quiet, untouched.
Alayne opened the door...
I've been reading this story from the begining and I just had to say its awesome. Never left any comments before because I wanted to make a new account for fanfic blogs like these but I just have to tell you all to keep up the good work. This is one of my favorite stories on here! I love EVERYTHING about it I check for updates daily :)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, you're lovely to say such nice things! We get a lot of pleasure out of writing it together! We've just updated and there is more coming!
Delete