A/N: don't own, don't sue
Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Flying High, Falling Low' by Walking On Cars
Chapter One
It's that time of the year again and you know I'd love to buy you something
But you know that I've got nothing, you know that I've got nothing
Please
I've had enough
In circles I'm turning
From this world I'm burning
Tell me what happens after this
Some days I'm flying high, I'm falling low
Some days I'm made of gold, I'm made of stone
Some days I'm flying high, I'm falling low
Some days I'm made of gold, I'm made of stone
I promised you better, but this is all I have
You say it's okay and you take me as I am
"I still don't see why they couldn't come to Winterfell." Sansa grumbled, cupping her chin in her hand and glowering moodily out of the carriage window.
The Spring landscape was quite breath-taking, sweeping lush green grass as far as the eye could see, but she was too irritable to appreciate it. The North was generally grey, black and white at all times, but this land was emerald green, orange yellow red purple pink blue flowers like spots of paint bloomed on a bright green canvas. Even the trees were more colourful with leaves of all shades of green.
Arya poked her tongue out at the back of her sister's head. She'd begged and begged for permission to ride with the men but her Lady Mother had put her foot down. She was a Lady and it was time she behaved as such, especially during this important visit. Sansa claimed they were visiting distant kin to assess their marriage potential for Robb, but Sansa always jumped right to the marriage angle. Arya was just excited for the adventure. She'd never been this far West before, it was so exciting! She heard that Lord Mountguise allowed his daughters to train in swordplay and hand-to-hand combat like men and when they went riding they rode astride. Her Lady Mother had told her that should such things prove to be true, she was to remember that she was a Lady of the North, a Stark of Winterfell and to take no part.
Lady Catelyn was entertaining an increasingly restless Rickon as the carriage lurched and plunged along the bumpy track. Nowhere in the West was flat it seemed, they'd been up and down so many hills that Sansa had gone quite pale for the first few days and had to squeeze her lips closed to keep from purging. While amusing at first, the fun had worn off and now her backside hurt from bouncing off the bench at every dip even with the plump silk cushions. Arya leaned out of the window, squinting at the mountains in the distance and the line of deep green trees marking the edge of the forest. Jon spotted her unruly head poking out of the carriage and spurred his horse forwards to ride besides her.
"See it?" He called, raising his voice over the clamour of the noisy carriage wheels, horse hooves and the laughter of the riders before and behind them.
Arya craned further forwards, straining to see past the rump of her brother's horse plodding along ahead of the carriage. She pushed against the ledge of the carriage window to gain some height, wobbling precariously. The dust kicked up by the carriages and horses created a haze but she could just glimpse it in the distance. The castle really was huge, even by Winterfell's standards. The sun was rapidly setting, casting waves of crimson, gold and rosy pink across the dark grey stone, glinting off the stained glass windows until the whole castle seemed to sparkle.
"Sansa! Look!"
Rendered curious by the awe in her sister's voice, Sansa forgot to be a proper young lady for a moment and scrambled along the bench to hang out of the carriage window besides her. Jon edged his stallion closer in case they should fall, amused by the matching expressions on his sisters' faces. They so rarely agreed on anything, it was odd to see them both captivated by the same thing.
"You know where we're going, don't you?" Jon said quietly. "The Stone King's Castle."
"Mother said that's just a tale." Sansa said sharply, glancing over her shoulder at Lady Catelyn, still trying to soothe a tired grumpy Rickon. "A tale to frighten children."
Arya shot her an annoyed glare. Why did she always spoil the fun?
"Old Nan said the Stone King was a myth." She piped up authoritatively.
"A legend, not a myth." Jon corrected, his eyes sparkling as Arya studied him suspiciously. "They say the Stone King emerged from the depths of the sea with the power to move mountains."
"He was tempted to live on land by a beautiful maiden." Sansa interrupted despite herself, repeating the only part of Old Nan's tale she'd memorised.
"Yes, a beautiful maiden with golden hair and midnight eyes and a smile to tempt the Gods." Arya recited, making an impatient noise through her nose and rolling her eyes. Jon laughed. "So?"
"So… this is the castle the Stone King built for his Queen. It is said that his descendants have stone magic in their blood, that they can turn you to stone with just a look." Jon leaned over the neck of his horse towards Arya. "We shall see."
"Girls. Stop that this instant." Lady Catelyn ordered from the depths of the carriage.
Sansa withdrew immediately but Arya turned back towards the castle slowly looming over them with every passing mile. It did look like something from one of Old Nan's stories, one of the special ones she'd save for stormy nights when Bran and Rickon, even Sansa, would climb into her bed and they'd huddle under fur blankets together to listen.
"Arya."
Arya scowled, slouching back in her seat and watching sulkily as Jon trotted ahead to catch up with Robb and Theon riding behind several of her father's soldiers.
Robb glanced at Jon as he joined them. He had not liked his half-brother being sent to ride behind the carriage with their household like a commoner but his Lady Mother had insisted and, in the matter of Jon Snow, his Lady Mother always prevailed. He glanced over his shoulder at the carriage. The window had been firmly closed and the inner curtain drawn. The rebuke was obvious, even from this distance. He lifted his eyebrows at Jon quizzically.
"The Stone King." Jon offered as explanation and Theon snorted.
"Fairytales and children's stories?" He scoffed, looking towards Robb for approval. Robb ignored him. "Should you not be back there?"
Jon levelled a calm look at Theon, the impassive look that always sent a shiver down his spine and unsettled his ego. They rode on in silence, watching the castle ahead as it simultaneously stretched above them and vanished into the encroaching darkness as the sun set. This huge wavy land played tricks with your eyes, it was impossible to accurately gauge distances. The sky rumbled ominously and they craned their necks. The sky was a huge expanse of bruised blue, spotted by the occasional lumpy grey cloud. The storms of the West were legendary, releasing enough water to flood whole cities and thunder that rattled buildings to the ground.
Lord Stark wheeled his horse around and joined his sons.
"I wanted to make better time." He said thoughtfully, peering up at the dark sky above them. "Still, it's been years since I've seen my old friend, a few hours won't matter."
Robb and Jon exchanged a glance. Lord Stark had been strangely distant during their long journey. They held their silence, waiting for whatever was coming next. Even Theon had the intelligence to keep quiet, falling back a little as the road narrowed.
"You know why we're here, son." Lord Stark cocked his head towards Robb, his grizzled features dark with fatigue. "Your Mother thinks it's time to arrange your betrothal. Lord Mountguise has three daughters; one is already betrothed but there's one of your age and one slightly younger. Either would make you a fine match." Robb had alternated between flushing red and paling to sickly yellow, Lord Stark shrugged his broad shoulders unhappily. "I dislike this business. Bargaining for my son like a market trader." The fur collar of his cloak ruffled slightly as he sighed. "We would never force your sisters to marry a man they had no affection for and the same will stand true for my sons. Should you take a liking to one of the Mountguise girls…" His dark eyes roamed over his son's face and Robb forced himself to stare back without flinching. "This is not set in stone."
Jon felt the grin flicker across his lips at the implied joke and Lord Stark smiled as he caught Jon's eye. It pained him that his bastard son would never marry, that they would never invite beautiful young Ladies with the idea to find him a wife. Jon smiled at him, a fearless smile, his smile, and it made his love for his boys burn warm in his chest. He spurred his horse, falling back to speak to his wife.
Theon started in with the crude jokes immediately, cuffing Robb on the shoulder as they made their way along the final stages of their journey. Robb forced smiles and laughter for his friend but Jon could see by the muscles quilting his jaw and his hands gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles were white that he had not prepared himself fully for this. Horns sounded along the perimeter wall when they came within archer-range, shadows moving behind the brightly burning torches lining the tall stone wall. Their lookout signalled the Mountguise lookout, torches shone on their banners for identification and the sound of creaking filled the still night air as the drawbridge was lowered. It settled with a heavy thump, falling into well-worn ditches cut into the land. They formed ranks, their guards leading the way. As they crossed the drawbridge, Jon and Theon paused to allow the immediate Stark family to proceed before them. This always got Theon's blood up but Jon was too used to this behaviour to protest anymore. He peered down at the moat as they crossed over it curiously. He'd heard that some Westeners hung those guilty of heinous crimes in cages and sank them neck-deep in their moats to be slowly eaten alive by the wildlife they kept there. Barely visible in the darkness beyond the golden circles of torchlight from above, he could just make out deep black water rippling every now and then as a curious fish surfaced. There could be prisoners under there, you'd never know. Once they passed through the huge iron gates, through walls a foot thick, they found themselves in a large muddy courtyard with another wall and imposing doorway before them.
"Looks better from the outside." Theon observed scornfully.
The huge doors rattled open, four armed soldiers heaving the iron-studded wooden doors apart. They moved on and even Theon fell silent, gawping at the huge castle before them. They'd crossed into a much larger cobbled courtyard, a space that would evidently usually be thrumming with activity. The castle really was imposing once inside its walls. It was hundreds of years old but the silver-grey stones were flawless, as if the castle had been constructed yesterday. Yet another set of heavy doors tall enough for two of Hodor one atop the other were carved into the centre of the main wall behind a set of elegantly carved steps. Arrayed on the steps, like splotches of bright colour against the pale backdrop of the castle, was what had to be the Lord Mountguise's family. Lord Stark was greeting a towering broad-shouldered man with a head of thick golden-blond curls and a huge matching beard. Besides him stood a woman, slightly younger than Lady Stark. She was still a handsome woman with sleek coal-black hair and sharp grey eyes. And behind them…
Jon gawped. His mouth even hung slightly open. Even Theon could find nothing to say. The three girls were complete opposites but equally stunning. They bobbed into curtsies in perfect synchronised grace, their heads bowed coyly.
"My eldest, Piper and Starling." Lord Mountguise's booming voice echoed around the cavernous courtyard, ringing with pride and a touch of boasting.
The shorter girls with their mother's raven hair and grey eyes glided forwards and bobbed again. Twins. Theon was practically salivating besides him. They were small and delicate like tiny matching dolls. They stepped back in unison.
"And my middle child. Wren-"
A startled shriek shattered the calm and Sansa leapt backwards, almost tripping over her skirts as she latched onto Robb's arm and severely trampled all over Jon's booted toes. A huge inky black shape had melted from the depths of the castle behind the Mountguise siblings, slinking down the steps and pouncing into their midst. Its claws clattered on the cobbles, the torchlight reflected off the shiny pelt, its fur a black so dark it was almost blue. Its huge head rotated slightly, huge liquid amber eyes studying them with a surprising amount of intelligence. Lady Stark had latched onto Rickon and Bran, clutching them to her. Jon rushed forwards to join Robb, drawing his sword.
"WREN!" Lord Mountguise bellowed.
The third daughter darted forwards, her wild golden curls slipping out of its jewelled net and spiralling over her pale freckled shoulders, bared by her elaborate velvet gown. She gathered up her expansive skirts, revealing sturdy riding boots hidden beneath, and leapt down the steps two at a time.
"Soombaa! SOOMBAA!" She hollered in a most unladylike fashion, streaking across the courtyard and dodging around startled retainers with remarkable speed and grace.
The panther had been prowling along the ranks of people lining the courtyard, now it paused and tipped its head to look at her. Arya edged closer to Jon to get a better look, her eyes sparkling with interest as the panther paced.
"Come here." Wren ordered firmly, ducking down onto her knees in the middle of the courtyard.
The panther dropped its head and slunk towards her. She scratched behind its ears, murmuring soft words and running her nails along its sleek fur until it practically purred with pleasure.
"Apologies for my daughter's pet." Lord Mountguise took Sansa's trembling hand in his own and patted it soothingly. "We are recently returned from a long trip, the journey has unsettled the beast somewhat." He shot a powerful glare at his daughter, still kneeling in the middle of the courtyard petting the panther. "Daughter."
She got to her feet and bowed guiltily at the stunned and ruffled Starks. Even the panther seemed to hang its head. She clicked her fingers twice and gestured towards the side of the castle. The panther stared at her. She indicated again and he trotted away, pausing only to glance at her reprovingly over its shoulder.
"Apologies Lord Stark. Lady Stark." Wren mumbled, ducking into a curtsey.
Lady Catelyn finally relinquished her grip on her sons, drawing Sansa to her side and murmuring soothing words. Wren studied them defiantly, her brilliant midnight blue eyes darting from one to the other thoughtfully. Theon met her gaze boldly, eyeing her up and down. She turned away from him with a tiny curling of her upper lip. She nodded politely to Robb and they assessed each other warily, well aware that they could be married to one another within months.
"Wren." Piper, at least Jon thought it was Piper, stepped towards them and took her sister's hand. "Mother wants to see you while they're changing for supper."
Jon was still staring at Wren so he caught the way her features stiffened and her shoulders tensed. Glancing over her shoulder he saw Lady Mountguise staring a hole into the back of her daughter's head. He knew that look. Lady Stark had that look whenever she laid eyes on him. The sisters ducked politely and hurried away, Starling twittering excitedly in Wren's ear as they ran up the steps after the younger twins Lord Mountguise had been too distracted to present.
"Well. This wedding might not be horrifically fucking boring, after all." Theon laughed, clapping Robb on the back and leering at the departing sisters.
"Come on, I'm starving." Jon grumbled, giving Robb a shove to get him moving.
Robb and Theon continued to discuss the various attributes of the Mountguise sisters as they were led through winding passageways towards their chambers. Jon and Theon were lodged in a hallway away from Robb, probably out of respect for Lady Catelyn. The entire castle really was made of stone, Jon noted as he followed the pageboy in Mountguise colours of startling deep blue, silver and black along the wide hallways, the huge sweeping staircases were carved from the very walls and floors, as were the wide arched windows paned with beautiful coloured stained glass. Inside his room Jon found a garderobe, matching side-table and desk all carved from the walls and engraved with scenes of hunting and revelry. The scrollwork and detail were flawless despite their miniscule size. It was quite stunning.
Jon stretched his legs pacing the long length of his room after changing out of his riding garb and into a black tunic with silver embroidery. A blushing maid filled his ewer with hot water on the table by his window and he thanked her stiffly, wondering if she'd be blushing quite so prettily if she knew he was a bastard and not the visiting Lord's heir. As he washed the road from his skin and rinsed out his dusty hair, he glanced out of the window. The Stone Castle had been designed and constructed in four distinctive wings situated in a square around a pretty private courtyard. Peering out of the window he glimpsed Wren in the rooms in the opposite wing. She seemed to be arguing furiously with someone, her hair unbound and rippling over her shoulders. Jon forgot the comb in his hand as he stared, he'd never seen a Lady act that way. Her cheeks were flaming and she gestured wildly with her pale slender hands. Lady Mountguise appeared besides her daughter, her face flaming red. Jon felt guilty for spying but he couldn't look away. The comb clattered to the ground as Lady Mountguise slapped her daughter's cheek, her golden head snapping around. Wren put a hand to her cheek, her back to the room as her mother stalked away. Jon expected her to cry and wail. Should Lady Stark have slapped either of her girls, Sansa would have wailed the house down and even Arya would have shed a tear at the shock if not for the pain. Wren, however, merely leant her forehead against the cool glass of her brightly coloured window and stared down at the private inner courtyard.
Jon stepped back, his gut churning guiltily, not wanting her to catch him spying on something so evidently private.