Book One: Chapter 9

Nyko tells her firmly that she isn’t to leave her bed unless absolutely necessary and Sakura soon bores of reading and petting Faith. The healer returns every so often to give her more milk of the poppy and check her bandages, but otherwise she is alone but for Hyewon’s still figure beside the door. Sakura had hoped that Hyewon may be some company in her confinement, but the guard is more severe and serious than ever. She has been standing at the door for the past two days, only sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire when Sakura threatened to get up and push her into one if she did not obey. There, in front of the warm fire, Sakura spots her head loll, her chin coming to rest against her chest as she sleeps, and Sakura gives a satisfied smile at the sight, turning the page in her book as quietly as she can.

Unfortunately Hyewon doesn’t get long until there is another knock on the door, and Sakura sighs when her head startles up. The soldier blinks blearily, peering around the room and rushing to her feet.

“You let me sleep,” She accuses Sakura, her voice rough with fatigue and Sakura purses her lips.

“You need to sleep.”

“I am well enough,” Hyewon argues, but the knock comes again at the door, cutting through them before they can begin their quarrel in earnest.

Hyewon pulls it open, her eyes widening in surprise, and steps back to let Yuri into the room. The girl has soot smudged over her cheeks, hair falling from her bun, and her face is pale and anxious. She hurries in with none of her usual pep and crosses the room to where the bed sits in only a few hurried paces.

“Sakura,” Her hands reach out, as if she wants to touch her but doesn’t dare, and Sakura feels her eyes travel over the bruises on her cheek and around her neck. “My lady, I’m sorry to burst in I just-  would have come sooner but I only just heard.”

“Yuri,” Sakura is glad for the company, “You’re good to come.”

“How could I not?” Yuri sinks onto the stool at her bedside as Hyewon shuts the door. “I’m so glad to see you… alive.”

“As am I,” Sakura reaches out to touch at her friend’s hand where it rests on the bed, “You look a state, have something to drink.”

“Thank you,” The girl rises, crossing the room to pour out two goblets of sweetened wine. She brings one to Sakura, and drinks the second herself. “I’ve been working since yesterday morn. I heard that the queen had brought back a prisoner, but I had no idea what you had to do with it.”

“The queen fetched the guard herself?” Sakura’s eyes widen in surprise, and she glances at Hyewon to see her guard nod.

“Brought him back to the castle at dawn,” Yuri adds, “Hunted him down like a fattened pig, by all accounts.”

“That’s-” She hesitates, catching her words before she can say anything out of turn, and eventually settles with. “I am indebted to her.”

“She’s fairly furious about it, from what I hear.” Yuri takes a drink from her goblet, and Sakura notices the colour slowly beginning to return to her cheeks. “I only found out because she was at the forge.”

“At the forge?” Hyewon asks, and Yuri turns to look at her.

“She wanted to know if we could help her identify the dagger. Sinclair is looking it over now, but it’s nothing that we’ve ever made.”

“The queen brought you the dagger personally?” Sakura swirls her untouched wine around in her goblet, watching the dregs catch against the metal. “It’s kind of her to pursue this so personally.”

“You’re a guest in her care, my lady.” Yuri gives her a soft smile, “I would expect nothing less.”

Sakura can feel the heat rising to her cheeks in the silence that follows, and she clears , brushing down her bed covers until Faith makes an irritated noise from beside her.

“Would you like to play cyvasse, Yuri? I’m dreadfully bored, Hyewon is no fun at all.” The gentle teasing barely elicits a smile from her guard.

Yuri shakes her head, her expression colouring with regret. “I’m afraid I cannot, my lady. I need to return to the forge and help Sinclair examine the dagger.” She stands and reaches out again, brushing a touch to the top of Sakura’s hand where it rests on the bed covers. “But I’ll return this evening, if you’d like, and play cyvasse then.”

“Of course,” Sakura nods easily. “Thank you for coming Yuri. You’re a good friend.”

Yuri’s smile gentles and she nods, squeezing Sakura’s hand, before she moves to the door. She pauses by Hyewon, looking her up and down and says, a little harshly.

“You look like Snow, when did you last sleep?”

Hyewon glowers at her resentfully, her spine stiffening in response. “I’m fine.”

“Can you please tell her to get some sleep?” Sakura demands, from the bed, “Or better yet walk her to the soldiers’ quarters yourself.”

“I’m fine ,” Hyewon repeats, twisting out of Yuri’s grip when the blacksmith tries to grab her. She sets her feet, as still as a statue. “I’m staying.”

“You’ve been here for two days,” Sakura argues, struggling to sit up a little more. “You have to rest.”

“I’m not leaving you in the hands of those baffoons!” Hyewon snaps, her voice spiralling up to a shout, and the silence that follows it is so heavy that Sakura feels she can scarcely breathe. She stares at Hyewon’s furious form, her heaving chest and snarled expression, and finally everything clicks into place.

“You’re scared of leaving me on my own.”

Hyewon’s mouth shuts wit an audible click, and Yuri’s eyes fix upon her. Hyewon grinds her jaw, her gaze stuck to Sakura in the bed, and for a few moments they all just watch one another, waiting for someone to crack. Eventually, Hyewon’s eyes slide away to the side, and she lets out a sigh so quiet that Sakura barely hears it.

“If I had been here nothing would have happened.”

“Hyewon,” Sakura’s voice breaks a little over the word, and she leans forward, wishing she could ease the pained expression on her guard’s face. “That’s not true.”

“It is, I should have protected you.” Hyewon’s words crack and for one terrifying moment, Sakura thinks that the guard will start crying. Instead, she sees the grief and terror written across Hyewon’s expression, as clearly as if she was reading a scroll. Hyewon’s jaw is tight, as if she is biting back her fury, and Sakura can’t stand it for one more second, so she swings her legs out of bed and levers herself up, ignoring the dull throbbing in her body.

“Sakura-” Yuri reaches out as if to stop her, but Sakura bats away her hands, crossing the room to stand in front of Hyewon.

The soldier continues to refuse to look at her, eyes dark and hands clenched into fists at her sides. Sakura touches at one of her balled fists gently, urging her attention back up, and when Hyewon finally meets her gaze Sakura sees regret as deep as the ocean in her eyes. As gently as she can, she says.

“There was nothing you could have done. You’re very talented, but the assassin would have killed you, Faith is the only reason that I’m still alive myself.” She sees Hyewon swallow harshly. “Only one died here, when it could have been all of us.”

Hyewon’s gaze clouds over again, dark with regret. “Haruppi… I was so awful to her…”

“Haruppi was a kind soul, I’m sure she had already forgiven.” Sakura feels a knot of despair in her stomach at the sound of her handmaiden’s name. “She was a hero, she died to protect me… just as I believe you would have.”

“It’s my duty,” Hyewon replies, solemnly, and Sakura has to catch a sob in , pulling in a ragged breath before she says.

“I’m glad you’re still alive Hyewon,” She squeezes the girl’s fingers again, where they have loosened by her side and when Hyewon meets her gaze again, it’s with a faint smile.

---

Chaewon has been trained from the moment she could walk to expect attack. Women of Bear Island have long learned to wield a sword, to protect their homes from raiding Greyjoys while their men were away catching fish. Though the island is protected under the Queen in the North, women still swing an axe as well as men on Bear Island, which is why Chaewon was given a sword rather than needlework when she was young. When she had told her father she was leaving to join the Queensguard and protect her younger cousin in her bid to be queen, he had pressed her sword into her hand and bid her to ride safely. Her younger sister, now down in the south, would inherit the Mormont title in her stead and Chaewon knows her father sometimes grieves the loss of his first daughter, but she is glad to be of service in Winterfell. Here, she can feel useful working for a cause she believes in, and shamefully she gets more pleasure in it than she knows she would get from answering her smallfolk’s inane concerns. Yunjin is far better suited to the role, more likely to reach for a quill than a sword, much like Eunbi.

It's why even as she drinks from a flagon in the Smoking Log and contemplates putting a few coins on the dice game, she reacts so quickly to the hand on her shoulder. Her assailant is hauled forwards across her body and Chaewon's dagger presses at the skin of their wrist. Her eyes dart up and she slackens her grip when she finds Choi Yuri looking back at her with sharp, furious eyes. Though it is dark in the tavern, Chaewon pushes her chair back as she releases the girl and her head to make the girl follow. Yuri tails her out of the tavern, following until they are in the dark back streets of Winter Town. Chaewon ducks past the lines of washing strung across the alleyway, and finally pauses in a deserted doorway, leaning back against the wall to look at Yuri curiously.

“What are you doing here? I didn't leave a signal.”

Yuri’s expression crumples with disdain. “You're not the only one who knows how to find somebody.”

“And why did you want to find me so badly?” Chaewon retorts.

Yuri glances over her shoulder, through the lonely alleyway, and then says, her voice low. “I need to know if you tried to kill Lady Sakura.”

Chaewon’s jaw tightens, her lips pressing into a firm line and fury creeps up through her ribs to make its home in her heart. “If you truly think that I could do that, you’re a fool.”

“I’m not a fool!” Yuri counters angrily, her voice rising a little. “I know steel, I’ve worked with it my whole life! That is a Mormont dagger.”

“A Mormont dagger from years past!” Chaewon retorts, “We haven’t used daggers like that since the Targaryen rule.”

“You hate Sakura, you wanted me to spy on her!”

“Half of this castle is spying on her.” She advances a few steps, though Yuri doesn’t back down in the face of her anger. “And killing the girl would ruin our relationship in the south- who need I remind you have my sister.”

Yuri falters, swallowing and though her expression is still creased with suspicion she allows, “Killing Lady Sakura would probably lead to your sister’s ransom.”

“At best,” Chaewon mutters, darkly, “They would probably execute her.”

Yuri heaves in a shuddering breath and is quiet for a moment, before she admits. “You did not order the assassination.”

“Of course not,” Chaewon scoffs, grinding her jaw, “As much as I would like to see the girl gone.”

“You don’t know her,” Yuri argues, fiercely, “She’s not what you think, though she has you all fooled.”

“Oh I’m not fooled,” Chaewon shakes her head, glowering into the darkness, “I know about Tyrell women, beautiful and deadly.”

“So you think the dagger was planted to frame House Mormont?” Yuri’s shoulders finally start to relax a little, and Chaewon nods. “You have to find out who did it.”

“The guard isn’t being very helpful, I suspect he doesn’t know himself.”

“It was clever to choose to frame you,” Yuri admits, slowly, as if thinking out loud. “War with the south and disunity within the north all at once.”

“The queen knows my family would never do such a thing.” She straightens, looking over the blacksmith, “If you’re done accusing me, I have to go back to the castle.”

Yuri nods, a little reluctantly, but then says, quietly. “I’m not doing it any more.”

Chaewon’s nose wrinkles, but she nods, “I suspected you might say that, clearly she has you under her thumb.”

“I’m under no one’s thumb,” Yuri snaps. “She’s a good person.”

“As you say, Choi.”

They walk together back to the mouth of the alleyway, pushing past the linens that hang like ghosts on the lines criss-crossing the street. Yuri’s gait is awkward and ungainly, leaving her struggling to keep up and Chaewon slows her pace just a little to save the blacksmith any further humiliation. There is a pinched, pained look on her face, and at the mouth of the alleyway Chaewon pauses and says, a little awkwardly.

“I thought you needed the money for a better brace.”

Yuri’s expression shutters immediately, and Chaewon knows on instinct that any offer of money now would only get her a punch in the mouth.

“I’m fine.” Yuri tells her, bluntly, and when she turns to make her way back into Winter Town Chaewon lets her go.

Instead of lingering and thinking on what the girl said, she starts back to the castle. The streets are dark and slippery, but she is well used to them by now and the white of her Queensguard cloak means that no pickpockets dare to target her as she walks. Her strides are long and swift, her mind reeling with anxieties over the source of the dagger and possible attempts to put distance between her and Eunbi. The queen is like a younger sister to her, had squired under her for a short time before the war. She had watched her grow from a child with limbs too long into a lithe, graceful queen. Sometimes she feels a pang of guilt, that she avoiding her obligations by becoming a Queensguard while her cousin took on a mantel that she had never been prepared for. Eunbi has taken to reigning like a duck to water, however. Perhaps because, unlike Mormont’s relatively small house and lands, Eunbi had been raised to be Warden of the North under the southern kings that would come after Thelonius Baratheon. She remembers that child well, ink stained fingers and mud stained knees, dwarfed by her father’s chair as she listened with endless patience to the complaints of petty lesser lords and smallfolk. She had always been such an ordinary child, the thought of her one day being surrounded by mysterious creatures from folklore is almost baffling.

As Chaewon passes through the courtyard, she spares a glance at the Winterfell forge, which still glows with candlelight. She wonders what report Sinclair will make to Eunbi, and the thought of someone trying to push a rift between them leads her feet further into the castle, to where Eunbi’s quarters are guarded by Lincoln.

Lincoln nods to her on her approach, but sensing her darkened mind says nothing but, “Captain.”

“Is she asleep?” Chaewon demands, and Lincoln shakes his head.

“She has only just retired.”

Chaewon nods, giving a cursory knock to the door but stepping inside before she hears Eunbi’s call for her. The queen is leaning over her desk, the room dark but for the flickering of a few candles, the fire burning low in the grate. Her hair hangs from about her face in tendrils that Chaewon is sure are unbecoming of a queen, and her eyes are clouded and tired when she looks up. Her fingers, Chaewon notices, are crusted with dried blood that Chaewon is sure is not her own.

“Will you ever learn to wait until you are called?” Eunbi snaps, and Chaewon jolts at the words, her eyes widening.

A moment of silence passes between them before she says, calmly. “I apologise, your majesty.”

The words make Eunbi sag like a cut marionette, falling in her chair with a long sigh. The queen tilts her back and pushes away the hair around her face with her bloody fingers, her eyes squeezing shut as if in pain.

“I’m sorry Chaewon,” When she speaks again her voice is lower, but Chaewon still lingers near the doorway, unsure if she’s truly welcome. Eunbi’s eyes open and she gestures her closer with a soft sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that, you know you’re always welcome.”

Chaewon nods, biding time as she thinks of how to approach her. It is as if a wide glacier has opened between them, stretching out in a yawn to push them away from each other and she feels a persistent wriggle of worry in her gut at the thought.

“I wanted to know how the identification of the dagger was progressing.” She says, at last, and Eunbi frowns, her eyes narrowing as she groans.

“The guard knows nothing, not really.” Her expression darkens, “Trust me, he is thoroughly broken.”

“I do trust you.” Chaewon’s eyes flicker over her warily and Eunbi must read her unease in her gaze because she heaves herself up and walks around her desk to hold out her hand.

“I trust you Chaewon, I know that you and your house would never do anything to betray me, or the north.” The sincerity of her words loosens the iron band tightening around Chaewon’s chest, and she pulls in a deep breath, clasping her cousin’s elbow as Eunbi mirrors the gesture.

“Come, sit.” Eunbi gestures to the fireplace and as Chaewon sinks down into one of the comfortable chairs there, Eunbi coaxes the fire back into life and fetches them two goblets of wine to drink.

“So, you found nothing out from the guard?” Chaewon asks, when Eunbi is sitting comfortably, one of her wolves laying its head upon her lap. Eunbi the sandy head as she thinks and Chaewon sees the great beast’s eyes drift close blissfully.

“He said that the assassin came to him two nights past, offered him a great reward for stepping away while he was on guard. The guard already had anti southern sympathies, that’s clear from the way he talks about Sa- Lady Sakura.” Eunbi’s gaze is dark.

“He couldn’t say anything about the assassin?” Chaewon probes, taking a slug from her wine goblet.

Eunbi shakes her head, barely touching her own wine. “Nothing of substance, he was an average man, dark of hair and green of eye.” Something about the statement plucks at the workings of Chaewon’s mind, but she cannot place it and instead dismisses the thought and focuses on Eunbi again. “He had no accent or markings, did not give a name or a place of origin.”

“Why would he?” Chaewon snorts, “He probably thought he would get away with it and leave the guard to be caught. The guard was a fool.”

“A radicalised fool,” Eunbi’s eyes are dark again, staring into the firelight. “I knew there was some discontent with Lady Sakura’s presence, but I never expected anything of this level.”

“I would advise checking the guards assigned to her from now on.”

“Sooyoung has already implemented it, though I fear she will struggle to pry Hyewon Snow away from her,” Eunbi laughs quietly, and Chaewon’s eyes crease.

“Snow, really?”

“She’s insisting on guarding Lady Sakura from now on.” Eunbi shakes her head, and takes a sip from her goblet, “I get the impression that Lady Sakura has charmed her way into many people’s acquaintances.”

“Yes,” Chaewon’s eyes stay fixed to her