B L O O M

Lost

     Rose was lost. After Cersei had forced her into a dress, she laid down to rest her eyes before the feast. Unfortunately, during her slumber the feast had begun, and it wasn't until she was woken did she realize she was late. In Rose's rush, she ran down the halls of Winterfell. Becoming more lost by the second in the never-ending passages, but things started to look up when Rose stumbled upon a boy swinging a sword at a sack covered dummy in the middle of a courtyard.

       "Pardon me, I've seemed to have lost my way. Would you happen to know where the feast is?" Her question visibly startling the man, as Rose approached him slowly. The closer Rose got the more handsome she realized he was, with his black curly hair and his obsidian like eyes.

     "I'm sorry, my lady," He said, dropping to his knees when he realized who she was. "The feast is straight through that entrance."

      "There is no need to call me milady, Rose will do. Thank you though." Rose smiled simply, making him look up from the ground to meet her eyes.

      "It is an honor to aid you, Rose." He said, his eyes moving back to the ground as he remembered her power over him and the trouble he would get into if her was impolite to her.

       "If I may ask, why are you not at the feast?" She asked, her curiosity shining despite the respectable lady lessons she was given, though there wasn't much resistance to her unladylike ways.

        "Lady Stark has asked me not to go." He said sadly, moving from his place on the ground to sit on a wooden bench off to the side.

      "And may I ask why she requested your absence from the feast?" Rose asked as she joined the boy on the bench, confused as to what would make the lady deny his presence.

      "I am Ned Stark's bastard." He said harshly, spitting the words from his mouth as if they were poison. "She would prefer if I was not here at all."

     "So?" Her question catching him off guard as he looked up, meeting her chocolate eyes with his dark pools.

      "I beg your pardon?" He asked making her shrug, as if disobedience wasn't a big deal.
 
     "It should not matter if you are a bastard or not. You are still a Stark." Rose said firmly, making him look away and smile slightly.

     "I suppose so."

     "My name is Rose." She mentioned again, making him turn to her at the unspoken question between the two.

      "Jon. Jon Snow."

      "It is a pleasure to meet you Jon." She smiled at him warmly, making his own smile grow into a grin.

       "And I, you."

      Jon was shocked to say the least when the strawberry haired maiden looked at him. He had immediately become enthralled by the lady who was called the most beautiful women in Westeros yet remained a well accomplished warrior. A woman who traveled across Essos and the Wall, but she was a highborn woman and he a bastard.

     The two could never be friends, and they could never be anything more. Never the less as the night progressed Rose never wavered from her seat on the lonely bench, opening up to Jon and listening when he spoke of his troubles.

      The two talked as if they had known each other since birth. Talking about everything from favorite color to their greatest regret, the two held nothing back. Until Jon knew, with utmost certainty, the blonde beauty held his heart.

    The undisturbed bliss of the lonely bench was finally interrupted when Jon's uncle walked in on the two discussing their preference to ale or wine.

    "Is the sword for decoration?" Benjen Stark queried upon seeing the blade resting on the ground.

    "Uncle Benjen!" Spoke Jon as he rose from the bench to greet his uncle with a hug.

     "Well I best be off, I'm already late as is. If you do finish brooding, feel free to join in the festivities." She teased the black-haired man as she stood up from the bench, stretching out her sore muscles before walking away.

     "Goodbye Rose." The curly haired lad called to the retreating figure of his new-found friend.