Chapter - 51

Tyrion was thoroughly enjoying the feast, his new appearance drawing curious glances and whispers from the gathered nobles. He sipped his wine, relishing the taste and the novel experience of not being at eye level with people's crotches.

Across the hall, Oberyn Martell stood with Ellaria, deep in conversation. His eyes occasionally flicked to Tyrion, his brow furrowed in thought.

"This complicates things," Oberyn murmured to Ellaria.

Ellaria nodded, her eyes sharp. "Indeed. Tywin Lannister has an heir now, and he's become a friend of the White Mage."

Oberyn's lips tightened. "We need more information. I'll see what I can find out from the imp. Why don't you go see what you can learn from Freya? She's all but confirmed to be the White Mage's paramour."

With a squeeze of Ellaria's hand, Oberyn made his way to Tyrion.

"You look like you're having fun, imp," Oberyn said as he approached. "Oh, I apologize. I guess I can't call you that anymore."

Tyrion's lips quirked in a sardonic smile. "Oh, I don't mind at all, Prince Martell. It was the name I grew up with," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Oberyn's eyes narrowed slightly, annoyed that he couldn't seem to get under Tyrion's skin. He decided to press further. "Well, should I call you Heir Lannister then? Or does your father still intend to make the Kingslayer his heir someday?"

That got a reaction from Tyrion, but not the one Oberyn expected. Tyrion's smile turned bitter. "Very few people can claim to know how the mind of my father works, and luckily, I am not someone cursed with that ability."

'Huh,' Oberyn thought to himself. 'It seems there's still a lot of bad blood there. That's good to know.'

Aloud, he said, "Come now, surely your new... stature has improved your standing with your father?"

Tyrion's mismatched eyes met Oberyn's, a spark of defiance in them. "While I can completely understand that you have endless plots on how to destroy my father and his entire line, maybe even justifiably so, I would like it if you kept me out of them."

With that said, Tyrion turned to walk away.

Oberyn, not one to let someone else have the last word, called after him. "Life rarely goes the way we would like it to go, Lord Tyrion."

He saw Tyrion pause at that. "I know, Prince Oberyn. I am the last person who needs to be reminded of that," Tyrion replied softly before continuing on his way.

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Freya felt completely out of her depth. She had tried to convince El to go to the feast alone, but he hadn't listened. Now, she found herself overwhelmed by the attention of the nobility gathered in Winterfell's great hall. 

As a baker's daughter for god's sake, she didn't know how to talk to these people.

She answered politely where she could and just smiled where she couldn't. Everyone seemed desperate to know what was going on between her and El. What was she supposed to say when she herself hardly knew and was scared to bring up the topic in front of him?

She had been so focused on other things lately that she may have started taking El for granted. Now, she couldn't help but notice the vultures circling, especially when she saw Margaery ask El for a dance and he accepted.

It didn't stop there. It seemed as though every lady wanted to dance with El. An ugly feeling rose inside Freya, one she had never experienced before. She tried to squash it down, but it persisted.

However, that ugly feeling was quickly replaced with joy when El asked her for a dance. 

Especially due to the fact she was the only one he had asked, and she couldn't help but feel a vindictive pleasure at the crestfallen faces of the other ladies.

The dance had been the best part of the night so far, but sadly, the song had to end. El was promptly dragged away by Oberyn to get more drunk, leaving Freya once again surrounded by the noble ladies.

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Say what you will about the Middle Ages, but they definitely knew how to throw a party. Or maybe that was just me, because I was a bit shitfaced.

There was booze, good food, pretty girls, and live music - although the music could have been better. That thought brought me to a sudden stop. I'd been here for years now and I hadn't built myself a proper guitar to introduce some culture to these people. I'd have to fix that soon.

Ugh, so many things to do, I should start keeping track. I still don't have a proper pen.

I'd turned off my ability to not let alcohol affect me for tonight. I could still sober up instantly, but I felt like I was in a safe enough space that I could get properly drunk for the first time since... well, since the day I'd died. Maybe I had some mental trauma regarding that.

And if shit did go south, Fenrir was pretty close by, and he was a pretty big deterrent. But I digress.

I was currently surrounded by a bunch of boring people I had no idea who they were, droning on and on about something I couldn't care less about and boring me to tears. But then I saw the perfect reason to excuse myself.

I spotted Freya once again surrounded by Margaery, Ellaria, and a bunch of other ladies. I locked eyes with her, and even though she looked calm on the surface, I knew that she was screaming at me to help her get out of the situation.

The only problem was, I didn't think me going to rescue her from the den of hungry lions was going to help in any way. But just because I was too cowardly to help didn't mean I could just stand by and do nothing. If I didn't do anything, I would never hear the end of it.

So, steeling myself and putting on my best charming face, I decided to wade into the fray and save my damsel in distress. This was either going to be hilarious or disastrous. Probably both.

As I approached the group, I could feel the eyes of every lady in the vicinity turn towards me. It was like they had some sort of sixth sense for drama. I plastered on my most charming smile and hoped I didn't look as nervous as I felt.

"Ladies," I said, bowing slightly and trying not to wobble. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, but I was wondering if I could borrow Freya for a moment?"

Margaery smiled sweetly. "Of course, Lord El. We were just getting to know your lovely apprentice better."

I could see the relief in Freya's eyes as she stepped towards me. "If you'll excuse me, ladies," she said politely.

As we walked away, I leaned in close to whisper, "You owe me one. I just walked into the lion's den for you."

Freya giggled, the tension leaving her shoulders. "My hero," she said, only half-jokingly. "Next time, maybe don't wait until I'm contemplating setting my dress on fire as a distraction?"

I laughed, leading her towards a quieter corner of the hall. "Deal. Now, how about we give them something to really talk about?"

"What did you have in mind?" Freya asked, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her voice.

I wiggled my eyebrows mischievously. "How about we sneak out of here?"

Once we were safely away from the crowd, Freya let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. I thought I'd never escape their endless questions and gossip."

"Happy to help," I said, dropping the drunk act. "Though I'm not sure my dashing rescue did much for your reputation."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Please. Half the castle already thinks we're... you know." She blushed slightly. "This will hardly make a difference."

I chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at her words. "Fair enough. So, are you up for a little adventure?"

Her eyes lit up with excitement. "What did you have in mind?"

"I've got an idea," I said with a mischievous grin. "But first, we need to make a stop by the kitchens."

We slipped out of the great hall, snagging a bottle of wine and some leftovers from the feast. Then we made our way up to one of the towers, where we could look out over Winterfell and the lands beyond.

The night air was crisp, and the stars shone brightly overhead. We settled in, passing the wine back and forth as we nibbled on our pilfered feast.

"Much better than stuffy small talk, eh?" I said, taking a swig from the bottle.

Freya nodded, gazing out at the twinkling lights of Winter Town. "It's beautiful up here. I can't believe I've never done this before."

"Well, now you know all my secrets," I teased. "Sneaking out of feasts, stealing food, and finding the best views in the castle."

She laughed, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Truly, you are a man of many talents."

We fell into comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the peace and each other's company. But eventually, my curiosity got the better of me.

"So," I said, trying to sound casual. "What exactly were those ladies needling you about?"

Freya groaned. "Oh, you know. The usual. How did a commoner like me end up as your apprentice? Are we secretly betrothed? Do I know any juicy gossip about the Starks?"

I winced. "Sorry about that. I guess being associated with me comes with its own headaches."

She shook her head, smiling softly. "Don't apologize. It's worth it, you know. Everything you've taught me, everything we've done to help people... I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the wine. "I'm glad," I said quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Freya."

"What are your plans, El?" she asked, her voice soft but curious.

Even though it felt like a simple question, I knew it was anything but. There was a certain weight to it, so I guess it was time to be honest about things.

"I'm pretty sure you know by now that I'm not from around here," I began. "Where I'm actually from is a long story for another day, but when I first came here, I was lost and scared."

I took a deep breath before continuing. "I had no plan, but I wasn't helpless. I had a choice to make: either live out in the woods with Skitter and Fenrir or find a town to live in. As much as I would have hated living in the woods, I did like the freedom it gave me, not being tied down to a place. But my choice was easier to make once I ran into Jon in the woods. I knew I could find a safe place to stay for a while to find myself and get better at my abilities in Winterfell without the people in power trying to control me."

"So my plan was to stay here for a few years, offer my services in exchange for my stay, and then leave after I was confident enough to survive on my own and travel the world."

I paused, looking at Freya. "But then I met you... and somewhere down the line, I realized that traveling the world on my own would be quite boring and lonely."

I trailed off, gathering my courage. "Then we started this clinic, and you've made sure that turned into something beautiful. I don't want to just let it disappear or leave you with all the work. So when you said that you wanted to teach others how to heal, I thought it was a great idea. We could teach some people and someday, when we trusted them to take care of it on their own..."

"So I still want to go, but I would like to do that with you. Maybe get married too along the way."

It took my drunk brain a moment to process what my mouth had just said but…

Freya's eyes widened. "El... are you asking me to marry you?"

"No... I mean, yes, but not right now," I stammered. "There's this kind of tradition from where I'm from where I get down on one knee and present you with a ring and ask if you'd like to get married. And I don't have a ring yet. I'm blabbering..."

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "What I'm saying is, I will ask you to marry me someday soon, and you will very clearly know that I am asking."

She didn't reply for a while, and I was starting to panic a bit when she kissed me. It was a soft, gentle kiss.

"I will be waiting," she said, her eyes shining.

She leaned her head on my shoulder, and we sat there in silence, watching the stars twinkle overhead. 

For a moment, all the complications and responsibilities faded away, and I was just a guy enjoying a quiet moment with someone special.

All in all, not a bad way to end the night.

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A/N: If you wish to read ahead you can find 8 more chapters on my Pa treon