You had never really wanted much in life; your family were simple farmers just a short distance from Winterfell. You and your father would ride there once every month to sell some crops to purchase the things you couldn't make for yourselves.

Your father was currently off talking to the chef from the castle about obtaining a rather large order of onions and asparagus and a few other choice vegetables to prepare for the visitation of the King and his family. You were outside of the walls in Winter Town, and while it was rather empty in the Summer, you still enjoyed looking around the few shops that were open. Winter Town wouldn't even be at half capacity until the long Summer finally ended. Only then did people start to flood in to help each other through the rough Winter. Perhaps it was an odd practice, but Winter was coming.

The little inn, the Smoking Log, had smoke billowing out of its chimney, and the prospect of a hot fire sounded amazing while waiting for your father. You hopped down out of your carriage, tying off your horse in the stable and stepped into the inn, rubbing your hands together and asking for a hot mug of tea to warm up. Father shouldn't be too much longer.

At least that's what you had thought when you drained the last drops from your mug, a chill setting into the room as the door swung in to reveal a few Winterfell guards.

"We're looking for Alleide Craon." The taller one spoke up, glancing around the room and settling on you when you stood up. "Can I help you?"

"It's your father."

You weren't sure what you were expecting as you raced back to Winterfell behind the guards. They hadn't offered to tell you what happened and you didn't feel like waiting for an explanation, either. They led you up the stairs and to the Maester's chambers where your father was laying out on a cot, seemingly resting.

"Maester, what happened?" You rushed into the room, grabbing hold of your father's hand as you looked up at the old maester imploringly. "He apparently had just sold the last of the crops off to the head chef and was walking down the King's Road to Winter Town to collect you when he was robbed by a few thugs... " The Maester trailed off as you looked down at your bruised and bloodied parent. He was the only person you had in the world.

You mother had died two years ago during childbirth. She had been in labor for over a day before her body finally gave out. When her midwife finally retrieved the baby from her, she was already dead. According to the midwife, she hadn't even finished developing and had been dead for at least a few months. Obviously my father was devastated.

But we trudged on because we still had each other and the farm to keep us going. Sure, it was difficult at first, but we were finally starting to get to a comfortable place again and he had even began courting this woman from the neighboring village.

"Alleide." A weak voice came from your father which caused you to clutch his hand more tightly and kneel next to him. "Yes, I'm here. I'm here, Father. What can I do to help you?"

He smiles and reached his hand up to stroke the side of your face, cupping your cheek and wiping tears with his thumb. "I'm not going to make it, Alleide." Why he was smiling about this…? "I arranged for you t-to…." his sentence was interrupted by a violent coughing fit that left blood trickling from his lips. He sighed before continuing, "I arranged for you to be the Lady Sansa's handmaiden. You'll have a good life here. You've met her before. The Starks are good people. There's nothing for you back at the house."

You shook your head, sobbing as your fingers gripped the blanket that was over him tightly. "No, father. You can't … You'll get better, you'll see! Please… You can't leave me, too…"

He just smiled again. "It'll be okay, little kitten. You're tough. I am so proud of you…"

"...I'm going to be with your mother..."

Tears fell liberally down your cheeks when the Maester offered his condolences as the last shuddering breath left your father, smile still firmly in place.

Sansa Stark hadn't much felt like breakfast that morning for all of her chirping about how handsome Prince Joffrey was. When you arrived to help her dress, she proclaimed that her stomach was, 'all a flutter with nerves' and she couldn't possibly eat anything. You had been her handmaid for half a year now, and you were finally becoming accustomed to life here. It was definitely different, but the work wasn't as laborious and the benefits were decent. Room and board with food and you even got a bit of coin here and there to put away. Plus, the Starks were incredibly kind to their help.

Sansa was picking out all of the pretty clothes she wanted to take with her to King's Landing, so you decided to go down to the courtyard to collect more wood for her fire. You were just about to turn the corner into the courtyard when you heard a loud, whingeing voice proclaim, "I'm telling mother!"

Glancing around one of the posts, you see a rattled prince and his exasperated uncle, Tyrion, exchanging a few choice words before the younger one ran off.

"The Prince will remember that, little lord." The tall, crude looking man with the scars said. He was known as "The Hound" or "dog" as the Prince liked to call him. But his name was Sandor Clegane, if you weren't mistaken. Several horror stories accompanied that name…

"I hope so, if he forgets, be a good dog and remind him." The imp said in a snide tone before sauntering off talking about what he wanted for breakfast. You walked up and started collecting a few pieces of firewood that the Hound was standing in front of. "Uhm … I'm sorry … they talk to you that way." Looking up at the man's face, you noticed that he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression before grunting and turning away from you.

'Okay, fine. I'm not sorry. Jeez.' As he walked off, you took the few pieces up to Lady Sansa's room and helped her finish packing.

Several hours into the trip to King's Landing, the King demanded everyone stop to take a break from riding. Which was perfectly fine with you as you needed to stretch your legs. Lady Sansa was busy preoccupying herself with Prince Joffrey, so you were just walking around a grassy clearing, enjoying the warm rays that were pouring down onto your skin. You hadn't been on the road for very long, but the weather was already significantly better here than back at Winterfell.

You circled around the clearing until you saw a giant of a person kneeling down a little bit away next to one of the trees. As you walked closer, you saw why; the Hound had found a little baby bird that had seemingly fallen out of a nest that was several feet above your head.

Whether he didn't sense you or knew you were there and didn't acknowledge you at first, you weren't sure, but when the Hound stood to full height and put the bird back in the nest with ease, you felt something tug at your heart that you hadn't expected. This small display of tenderness showed that this man with such fearsome and terrible rumors surrounding him, actually had a gentle side.

He turned and saw you, smiling up at him and grunted, going to step around you. "That was really sweet." You said hurriedly, stopping him in his tracks. "Wasn't meant to be sweet. Just didn't want to see it die because it was a stupid fuck and didn't stay in its nest."

Incidentally, that's also how you felt about all of these birds leaving their home…