Malin Stark sat in the dark, almost lightless room, her and her sisters were expected to sew in. Malin had two sisters, little Arya, and her twin, Sansa. Sansa's neat stitches were praised obnoxiously by Septa Mordane and Malin caught Arya making a face towards them. Malin smirked and looked back down at her own sampler just as racous laughter was heard from outside. A second later the twang of an arrow followed and Malin figured out who was laughing about what. Her older brothers and Theon, who hadn't been shots themsleves when they first started, were probably out making merry at her second youngest brother, Bran's expense. She watched Arya carefully and saw a determined look flash across her face. Sowing was apparently over for her adventurous little sister.
Moments after Arya snuck away more laughter flowed inside. Malin sighed inwardly. She wasn't as interested in becoming a lady-warrior as her sister was, but that didn't mean she liked sitting in darkness trying to compete with Sansa's unnaturally small and even stitches. She excused herself from the more than doubtful Septa by saying she needed the privy and walked into the archery yard. Malin saw Bran dashing after Arya and smiled inwardly wondering what Arya'd done to embarress poor Bran now. She grimaced at a brace of dead chickens hanging near to where she stood, clogging the air with their stench and moved forward so she'd not have to look at them any longer. John, Rickon, and Robb stood gathering arrows from the target Malin figured Bran had been shooting at. Rickon saw her, screamed "Malin!" and ran right into her arms. Rickon was too big for Malin to carry him like she used to, but Rickon was Malin's especial favourite. Quite a few of her friends had been married, or fooling around with some farmhand, and everyone around her growing up, made Malin realize how much she wanted a family. She'd pretended Rickon was her baby and had dressed him up when they were both younger, but gradually she'd started to care for him, not just use him as a babydoll.
With Rickon still clinging to her leg, Malin straightened and saw Robb coming to greet her. John was engaged in a staring match with someone who stood on the balcony above her head. Malin would've teased him about a beautiful whore catching his attention, but could feel the frost from here, and so knew it was her mother he stared at.
"Sister, sowing over so-" Robb began to teasingly ask her, but she silenced him with a jerk of her head towards John. He sighed and peeled Rickon off her. Robb swung his arm around Malin's shoulders and her world brightened to a happiness of almost unbearable intensity. She leaned against him, careful to do nothing more than sisterly affection would permit.
"... useless to keep worrying about it, there's nothing we can do." Malin heard the tail end of whatever he'd been saying and nodded mechanically in agreement before his statement registered. Then she stopped and pulled out from under his arm so she'd be able to think straight.
"You think we should let people treat him like that?"
Seeing the indignant expression on her face, Robb's softened and he reached a hand out to cup her jaw and ran his thumb lightly across her cheek, "What can we do? She's our mother." Malin heard the double meaning and almost threw Robb into some dark corner to have her way with him. Luckily for their reputations, someone coughed quietly behind Malin and Robb was spared from her perversions. Malin watched his eyes widen in shock, as if someone had dumped water from one of the rivers over his head. She turned to face a small man in courier's livery and asked what it was he was botheriing the Young Wolf for.
"A deserter," he said, " Your father requires your presence, my Lord. Begging your pardon, Miss."
Robb looked like he was about to correct the little man as to her proper title, but she minutely shook her head at him and watched him walk away with a small degree of pain in her breast.
Malin wandered through Winterfell greeting those she knew, gradually working her way back towards the keep. When Malin got back to the main part of Winterfell, Arya came running up to her panting excitedly, "Did you hear about the deserter? Father took Bran!" Here she pouted, "He wouldn't let me come as well." Malin wanted to ride after them and drag Bran back, or atleast yell at her father for allowing Bran to come, but such things weren't done.
"There hasn't been a warrior queen for hundreds of years Arya," Malin said gently.
Arya's so very Stark face scrunched up and she looked like she was preparing for battle, "So you think I can't do it?"
"No Small One," Arya looked suprised. "Anyone can do anything if they fight hard enough for it. But being a lady-knight will require convincing people you can and proving those who doubt wrong. Now run along, I've to speak with Mother. We'll go riding later today?" Arya nodded and happily ran off, probably to pester the smith into giving her some sort of weapon. It wasn't lady-like but Malin couldn't say she didn't keep a dagger hidden in the folds of her dress. When Theon had asked her if she knew how to use it, she smiled her sweetest smile while inwardly roaring with laughter, and then said, "Stick 'em with the pointy end." John and Robb had started laughing even before she'd been able to release her own pent up guffaws.
"Malin! Sister, please wait a moment." Malin stiffened her spine, braced her shoulders, and turned to face Sansa.
"Yes Sansa?"
Sansa walked gracefully and Malin watched with a bit of jealousy as her lady-like sister approached. Theon had once told Malin she walked like a whore; a combination of swaying hips, a certain knowing, and a braggert's confidence. Malin replied that he walked like a Greyjoy; one who still hadn't gotten their landlegs. Sansa had, like most of the Stark children, inherited their mother's Tully red hair and blue eyes. Malin had gotten what she sometimes considered the short end of the stick, the Stark looks. Malin's nose was long, her face heart-shaped, her eyes were grey like winter's morning, and her ears stuck out like they were trying to catch everything that was happening around her. She didn't have Sansa's height or figure either. Malin came an inch or two higher than Sansa's shoulder and lacked the beginnings of curves Sansa had, though she'd already bled.
"Malin, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to the seamtress? Mother says we may get new dresses because of the King's coming."
"The King's what?" Malin had trouble keeping her voice at a normal volume.
Sansa looked suprised, "Haven't the boys found you yet? We've got new pets and Mother told us the King was coming and to be presentable," Sansa looked at her disapprovingly, "Malin you haven't been wandering by yourself again have you?"
Malin turned on her heel, "Goodbye Sister dearest, I really must find the boys now!" and hurried off before Sansa could start on how her sisters ruined everything. Malin privately thought Sansa a bit immature. Before Malin saw her brothers she heard yipping from the new pets Sansa had been talking about. Hounds? she thought to herself.
She turned to corner and saw Robb and John and Theon playing with two wolf pups, one smaller than the other with white fur and red eyes, and the other with smoke grey fur and yellow eyes. Apart from the two pups and laughing boys, sitting as though she'd been born to rule them all was a slightly larger she-wolf pup. Her ice-blue eyes flew up to Malin and she strecthed and yawned before trotting over. Malin bent down and ruffled her soft dark fur. She immediately made up her mind to call the wolf Queen Bitch privately and take the time to actually think of an appropriate name to call her publicly. Malin saw a flea jump off the wolf and decided to find Maester Luwin for a concotion that'd keep the bugs off, and then she'd go bathe the pup. Malin looked up and saw Robb watching her, still, while the others moved around him. She blushed and smiled at him a little sadly before turning to go.
Weeks passed as Malin, Sansa, and Arya got new dresses fitted and sown with alarming speed, the boys got their hair shorn and had new robes made, the wolf pups grew and Queen Bitch and Lady got baths weekly, while the castle bustled with servants running two and fro. Malin and Robb began to find ways to see each other, both gradually growing bolder as hugs became longer, casual brushes increased, and famial kisses gradually moved across the cheek towards the mouth. It was about a month after the missive arrived that Bran came shouting into the dark horrid sowing room where Robb had just been pressed against Malin his hand up her skirt. He'd paused and they'd both heard the pitter patter of feet running down the hall and sprung apart, Malin's knees slightly shakey from Robb's attentions and his trousers forming a slight tent.
"The King's coming down the road! I saw him, he's coming right now!" Malin felt immediately guilty looking at Bran's happy innocence.
"Bran, were you climbing again?" At the sound of Robb's voice Malin shed any guilty feelings and wanted only to climb back into his arms. Bran smiled sortof sheepishly and dashed out of the room. Robb moved tofold Malin back into his arms but she held up a hand and he stopped, a questioning look on his face.
"The King is almost here," she said by way of explanation, meaning they both had to go become presentable wholesome Stark children.
"That's exactly why we should stay a moment longer. Imagine meeting the King like this," he gestured down at his tent and Malin giggled. He held out his arms and Malin stepped gratefully into them, her head tilted up for his kiss. Whenever Malin tried to remember things as they happened next, all she got was a jumbled mix of sensations and images, some in stark clarity. She distinctly remembered fumbling with the laces on his breeches, and digging her nails into his back as there was a sharp pain, and the sound of Robb's voice moaning her name. She remembered when the pain went away and the pleasure that took it's place, and she remembered how she felt powerful, like she'd gained some secret knowledge, when they finished.
Robb laced the back of her dress grumbling all the while he had no idea how girls got in and out of things, and then Malin laced his breeches for him trying to be seductive as she did so. It seemed to work since she could feel him getting hard again. Malin laughed and went to get ready. She'd heard Joffrey was a right royal prick and she wasn't always diplomatic.
"Where's Arya?" Lady Catelyn looked down the line of her children and couldn't see her youngest daughter. Malin grimaced, she'd tried to stand so no one would notice Arya's absence.
"Sansa, Malin, where's your sister?" Catelyn repeated. Sansa shrugged coldly and Malin pretended she hadn't heard. Thankfully Arya ran up then, an oversized helmet bobbing on her head.
"What're you doing with that on?" Ned Stark asked as he took the helmet off. Malin turned and grinned at John and Robb who were already snickering.
"Move!" Arya ordered Bran and Malin suddenly thought, Queen Bitch, and almost collapsed in gales of laughter.
Horse hooves echoed off the cobblestones as a helmed member of the Kingsguard rode in, followed by Prince Joffrey. Malin thought he looked like an ass but she caught Sansa's look of adoration and braced herself for a long period of being constantly disappointed in her twin. The man who followed the first two had to be Sandor Clegane, the Prince's personal hound, bluntly signified by the houndshead armour he wore. Next came a red carriage that made Malin think of gypsies and faraway places, followed by another Kingsguard and then finally, finally, the king himself. Winterfell kneeled as one to the fat man who could barely sit his horse. He was helped down by his guards and gestured with one gloved hand for Malin's father to rise, telling everyone else it was alright to stand aswell. Sansa rose gracefully but Malin stumbled and would have fallen if Robb hadn't caught her elbow. His touch sent electric tingles down her spine and she blushed when she smiled in thanks, still warmed by the glow of their private moments earlier.
"My lord," Ned greeted the king. Malin refocused on the proceedings and caught one of the Kingsguard looking at her curiously. He still had his helmet on but she thought she saw a flash of blonde hair so he must be-
"You've got fat," the King growled. Malin's jaw dropped. She quickly closed it as her father raised an eyebrow to the King and they started laughing, ending the several seconds worth of awkward silence.
Robert hugged her mother and fondly exclaimed, "Cat!" before ruffling Rickon's hair. Rickon was still pouting about not being allowed to stand with Malin.
The King was speaking again but Malin's attention had been caught by Cersei Lannister descending from the gypsy wagon. She was slim and had flahing green eyes and a mane of golden hair. Her younger two children had descended before her, but they weren't quite as striking as their mother.
"Where's the imp?" Arya asked, a bit too loud.
"Will you shut up?" Sansa snapped at the same time as Malin quietly told her to mind her manners.
"What have we here?" Robert asked as he moved to stand in front of Robb. "You must be Robb," he said shaking Robb's hand.
"My, you're pretty ones," he said standing in front of Sansa and Malin. "These are the twins Ned?" the King asked and looked back for confirmation before moving on.
"Your name is?" he asked Arya. She answered with a somewhat reluctant expression on her face.
"Show us your muscles," he asked Bran and cheerily told him, "You'll be a soldier," making Bran light up at the prediction.
The Kingsquard who'd been looking at Malin took his helmet off and shook his hair out as Arya said, again too loudly, "That's Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother."
Sansa responded just as rudely as before, "Will you please shut up!" Malin sighed and wished she were elsewhere.
"Malin?" Queen growled from her spot by the fire, her legs still in the air from Malin's bellyrub. Malin turned and saw Maester Luwin. She quickly got up and curtsied to the old man before offering him a chair. He shook his head and continued, "Your father wishes to see you in his study."
Malin strode through the halls, head high, chest out, shoulders out, back straight, trying to look as not guilty as possible. When she got to her father's study the first person she saw was Rob, who smiled shakily. He wouldn't be able to smile at all if we were found out, would he? she thought desperately.
"Malin, I've brought you all here since I wish to discuss an offer the King made me." On the words "you all" Malin was able to see Sansa, her mother, and John, not just Robb and her father's imposing figure behind the desk. Malin thought her mother looked rather like she was sucking on lemons. "Robert has asked me to the capitol to be Hand to the King. He offers to marry Joffrey to either you, Sansa," Sansa beamed, "or you, Malin," Robb bleached white. I wish to discuss things as a family, Winter is coming, and we need to be in agreement."
"I don't think you should accept Father," Malin's voice was shaky and her knees were worse off, but she felt in her gut that the Starks couldn't leave Winterfell. "Winter is coming and the North needs Starks, and the Starks need to be together."
"You have no desire to be the next queen? Or for the honors that would accompany the title?" Eddard Stark asked his eldest daughter seriously.
Malin felt like a stubborn petulant child when she said, "Winter is coming." Robb walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her in as familial way as he could manage. Malin realized she was trembling. Sansa looked at Malin, shocked that she was uninterested in the fairytale land and prince that lay in wait to the south. It didin't take long for Sansa to recover and speak rather passionately, though Malin felt she was being insipid, about the South and how Sansa loved Joffrey. Malin felt like hitting Sansa and left in the middle of her twin's speech with Robb following on her heels.
"C'mon Malin. I'll take you up to your room so you can get ready for the feast," Robb said gently and took her hand, leading her up to her chamber. Malin stayed quiet as he led her on, her anger bubbling, but Malin didn't break in public. As soon as her door shut Malin wheeled and shouted, "What is wrong with her?!"
"I know Love, I know," he moved to comfort her but Malin paced angrily, smacking Sansa's face with the heels of her boots. "I don't understand how she can't realize that something's wrong. And that boy! I saw him throwing rocks at cats! He's insane like all the bloody Lannisters!"
"Hush, Malin. There's a Lannister right below you," Robb implored her. After a few more minutes of Malin angrily ranting and Robb being obnoxiously kind and honourable, Malin collapsed on the bed where Robb had taken up residence.
"You have to stay here Robb," Malin said brokenly, her head in her hands.
Robb pulled her head to his chest and said quietly, "I know."
Malin looked up at him tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, "But I have to go." On the last word Malin's voice cracked and she sobbed quietly against his chest. Malin's long fingers didn't fumble as she sat up and unlaced the back of her dress.
"Malin, what are you- Someone might hear." Malin pulled her dress completely off started taking off Robb's clothes while he stared at her nakedness. She was pale and leggy, with a tiny waist, a shock of dark hair over her mound, and beautiful breast buds that rose and fell with every breath.
"Please, Robb, just let me have this. I'll be gone and then married off and you will be too and we'll never see each other again." She swung her leg over him so she straddled him and leaned over him to trail featherlight kisses from his temple to his collarbone.
Robb groaned and flipped over on top of her, "That's not going to happen." Malin didn't argue with him, she just let him love her until she absolutely had to get ready for the banquet.
Out of the new dresses she'd had made you'd think something would've stood out, but every dress Malin had her maid pull out made her feel she was going to be sick. Her mother came in and took one look at an overly-emotional tearstained Malin sitting on a field of new dresses and threw the maid out. She pulled Malin to her feet and sat her in front of the mirror to do her hair.
"Malin, do you remember when you were a little girl and you kept trying to pick the lock on my southern dresses? You wanted to wear them for dress up, remember?"
"I'm not Sansa, new dresses don't make everything all better," Her mother cast her a disapproving look but Malin knew she'd let it go.
"Perhaps you should see the dresses before you say no," Catelyn said with a twinkle in her eye. "And imagine how jealous Sansa'd be and how lovely your new boy would think you looked."
Malin shot out of her chair, "My new what?" and realised too late an over reaction wasn't the best idea. "How'd you know?" she asked more calmly. Catelyn smiled and said, "A mother always knows. But Malin," she tried to find the right way to phrase her thought delicately, "Your husband will be picked for you. Love comes later." Malin sighed.
"Yes, Mother."
Malin self-consciously looked down at her dress. She was dying to fidget and rearrange it but kept her composure. The dress really was beautiful, it was a dark midnight blue and showed all of her shoulders. With her almost black hair pulled sharply back into a series of intricate braids, her slender neck and elegant collarbones were exposed for all the world to see. Her mother had let her borrow lip-paint and her lips' ruby-redness drew the eye. Malin's fingertips rested lightly on Prince Joffrey's arm. She got the feeling that they both would've preferred Sansa to be on his arm. The King was escorted in by Lord Stark and the two wives trailed behind, then came the children paired up with their opposite house. Jaime Lannister and some other Kingsguard guarded the king, though if Malin had to put money on who he'd protect, she'd plunk down a good deal on the Queen over the King. The Lannister man kept looking back at her and she had at first ignored him but was now quite taken with making strange faces at him when he did look back. She liked the fact that she could see him struggling not to laugh. Making the Kingslayer laugh, who would've thought.
The hall transformed, everyone laughed and drank and the bards sang. Arya flung food at Sansa and Malin thought she'd never laughed so hard in her life. It was all so fleeting, and Malin felt that she'd never be here with all these people she loved so well again. Malin was tippsy, teetering on drunk, when Robb made her get up and sing a duet with him. Somehow they ended up singing a hymn to the new gods.
Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.
Gentle Mother, strength of women,
Help our daughters through this fray.
Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,
Teach us all a kinder way.
Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.
Malin got halfway through and realised Robb had stopped singing and everyone had started listening, her voice faltered but she kept singing and finished with her most graceful drunk curtsy. Robb caught her arm before she fell and the room exploded with laughter.
"Let's dance!" Malin said to Robb and she saw him concentrate very hard before he said, "I don't think I can." Malin giggled and almost kissed him, but then she saw Jaime Lannister looking at her again and she marched over to him, stumbling a few times and ruining her already shredded dignity.
"Why do you keep staring at me Kingslayer?" Malin poked him in the breastplate for emphasis but then looked down at her wounded finger, confused.
"Because I have a penchent for thirteen year old boys and I think you might be in my way," he said with sarcasim Malin would only pick up on later.
"I'm not a boy!" She said indignantly. Something poked at Malin's brain. If she could just concentrate, suddenly the ground seemed much closer and then quickly metal wrapped around her.
"Perhaps you should leave thinking to those best at it," suggested a voice from behind her ear.
"Fine," She answered tartly. "Then I won't tell you that I think you'd best let go."
"Why would I ever want to do that?" came the teasing voice.
"Because," Malin invented a reason at random, "Your Mistress-Queen is looking this way." The Kingslayer let go of her like she'd burned him and at the shock on his face, Malin realised she'd been correct in her wild accusation even through her fog. She also realised that she needed to stay where there were lots of people. If she thought some drunk ninny was going to ruin Robb's life by telling of their afair, said Ninny would be dead faster than they could ask for mercy. And Malin wasn't a professional killer. The Kingslayer grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the hall before she could so much as peep. Malin fumbled around in her dress for her knife, but then realised she was too uncoordinated to use it. She'd have to be atleast a little more sober than she was at present. Jaime slammed her against a wall and put his arm against her throat so she couldn't move.
"Like it rough, Lannister?" She asked lightly.
He grinned at her, "It's a shame I might have to kill you Funnyface."
"I have no objections to skipping that portion of the evening," Malin said, her adrenaline helping her to think through her wine. "I'm sure you can think why killing me might be problematic. It's not as if I'm exactly clean in this situation." He was obviously wieghing her words. Malin couldn't quite resist saying, "Perhaps you should leave thinking to those best at it," as he took his time in deciding what to do. Jaime smiled and removed his arm from her windpipe. Malin crumpled to ground, bruising the hip she fell on and sucked in a great gulp of air. Jaime crouched down his movements sleek and lethe as one of the mountain cats that sometimes came down, "Now, here's what's going to happen. You will marry into my family, either myself or my brother since I hear Joff's been taken, nothing is expected of you, but your fortunes will be tied to ours. I trust this is incentive enough to stay silent?"
"You threatening to expose Robb is incentive enough, Kingslayer," Malin said, her voice slightly raspy from his mailed arm being against her throat.
"Are you declining? A husband who expects no heirs is a rare thing. If you and I are married, as long as you permit me to see Cersei, I care not whom you bed." He paused as if a new thought had struck him, "Though, I am rather curious as to what you do to make him scream so loud?" Jaime chuckled at the horrified expression on her face. "My brother would offer you the same deal, except he expects to keep seeing his whores, not Cercei. I imagine he'd be quite pleased if you forbid him from seeing Cercei."
"And if I decline?" Malin asked cautiously, her eyes on Queen who was slowly stalking up behind Jaime.
He looked suprised, "Why, then I would throw you out of your tower window." Malin mentally examined herself. She thought she could suprise him and walk away without having to marry the Imp. Everyone knew Kingsguard couldn't marry. She stood up slowly, seductively she hoped, and leaned up onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "You want to know if I can make you scream?" Her dagger blurred up to his neck and Malin smiled, "I'm willing to try."
"You're a madwoman," he said in wonder. "How could you hope to beat a member of the Kingsguard?"
Queen growled menacingly behind him and Malin's grin widened, "That's how. I'm going to leave now. You're not going to threaten me again. Do you understand?"
Jaime Lannister looked as though he'd misplaced his words. Malin sighed as if disappointed with a small child and began to back away, "Goodbye, Kingslayer. That was quite fun. Let's do it again sometime?" Then she winked and ducked into an alleyway, sprinting all the way home.
The next day, Bran fell.