Story Title: Splintering Peace

Chapter One
Dark, Harsh & Fearsome

The world around her was startling in its immense beauty. Cold and incredibly white it had the power to take her breath away. The air was crisp and stung her cheeks. She was glad for the soft fur of her thick winter coat. It was summer here. But the summers were always cold. Everything was cold here in the North. The sun offered valued warmth, melting the summer snow into the rough sands of the Western Shore. She bit her lip, keeping her pace slow. Her feet shuffled along the ground, her toes shying away from the wet, black waves. At her breast was a small baby boy with curly black hair and soft blue eyes..

Serena watched her son from the second floor of the council room, his large brown eyes assessing the men across from him. It amazed her how quickly he had grown since taking his place as Lord of the Western Shore. Originally he would have taken the title at fifteen but with his recent engagement to Cathila Rolly she had determined that he might as well begin now. Serena was proud of him, though. Like his father he was careful. Stories, to the exhaustion of the crowd, were re-told and re-told. Facts were checked, dates were marked, and all to insure a verdict was not incorrect. Ned had once warned her that the boy's carefulness was a mask for indecisiveness. He had told her it could lead to his downfall but she refused to believe that being careful could lead to trouble. If anything it would protect him from harm. Serena sat back. She sat forward again when Tula, her servant and confidant, held out a small piece of rolled up paper with the marking of a web. Varys. She rolled it between her hands. Serena had no interest in the dealings of court but it was good to know what was going on in the Council Room. She, unlike her brother, had no problems with dirtying her hands, her husband had seen to that.
"I believe in the worth of honor, Serena," he had murmured, hands trailing against her arm.
"But I must protect Holbrooke, he placed a large, pale hand against her bare stomach, and the son you carry"
So the interactions between the Spider and her husband's house had continued.
Serena unrolled the paper and felt her heart stop. She stood, pushing her chair in her haste to leave the room.
Scrawled in tiny, slippery letters were the words,

"The Falcon is dead, the Stag wants the Wolf"

Serena walked briskly to her room. The paper felt hot in her palm. By now almost the entire South had heard of this news and she wondered for only a moment how long it would take for it to drizzle higher North. She had to go to Ned. A part of her knew she would not be able to stop his taking the place as Hand of the King but she had to try. It had never been in Serena to back down. She was a daughter of snow, a woman of ice and the wife of the sea. To back down would be to lose the respect she had selfishly snatched after her husband had died. Serena had to try and talk Ned out of his venture. If the Rebellion had taught her one thing it was this: The Starks belong in the North. The South belonged to those of Summer and the lions and flowers and, once, dragons. Surely he knew it too. They had lost the same people during the Rebellion. All to a mad king. The Mad King. All to the world below their home. And Serena had promised, sworn. That Ned, of all of them, would survive. They had promised. Turning to Tula she motioned with her hand towards her room.
"We leave for Winterfell in one hour"

The boat was small in length. It extended nearly seventeen meters and eight meters across. They had ridden from Holbrooke just four days ago. Serena was determined to reach Winterfell before the King. She had to hurry. It would take four weeks for the King to reach Winterfell, depending on the number in his party. For the moment, time was on her side. The conversation she had had with her boy-lord rang in her ears.

"Uncle Ned is going to become Hand of the King?," William asked, shock evident on his face.
"Not if I can stop him," she said, breathlessly, hurrying to pack.
"You know that Uncle Ned won't listen," William replied.
William had only stared at her and maybe it was his large brown eyes that had made her dismiss her ladies and grab her son to her chest. It was becoming harder and harder to look at him. His large eyes and long brown hair reminded her too much of her husband and of the little babe she had lost. There had been no goodbyes with either man nor child but she had loved them both so much.
"I know you're growing up," Serena murmured stroking his long black hair, "And one day you'll realize why I dislike the South, but for now, guard your people and make your father proud."
"I will mother," William replied, hugging her tightly.
It was hard sometimes to remember that he was a boy of fourteen. He had developed his father's wiry, courageous air and a part of her hated that. Her second son was no Northerner, like his mother, or Southerner, like his father. Will was Mountains and Sand. Island and Snow. He was something else.
She smiled when she released him, "I will send for you when things have settled, then you can meet with Robb and Jon"
William had nodded before he exited her room.
It was only later that she realized how quickly he had been able to shift from worried boy to powerful lord.

Serena Ryder was used to tragedy. As an adolescent she had had to bury a sister, a brother, a father and as a woman she had buried a husband and a son. These faces, from the warm eyes of her eldest brother, Brandon, to the white hair of her late husband, haunted her. She would not add Ned's to the list. Eliza could not handle another death, it would kill her. Her hair, that was as brown as wood, fluttered in the wind as she stood at the edge of the ship and her brown eyes surveyed the landscape. She was not a Northern beauty, with her tan skin and soft appearance, but War and Death had made her into a proud and regal woman.
"We'll have to find shelter soon, my lady", Dan Bostyr yelled.
She had seen the clouds too. Summer Storms were not as fearsome as Winter Storms but they had the ability to destroy those who walked or rode out in the open. And the water around her homes was dangerous.
Fourteen years ago she had no idea the dangers of the sea but Serena had learned, albeit slowly and fearfully.
"We will stop our journey, Lord Bostyr, when the snow begins to fall!," Serena yelled over the wind.

The wind roared mightily against them as they rode their horses but no snow fell. Rain cut at her checks and nipped at her fingers but no snow fell. The sky turned as dark as her cloak and cast nasty shadows but no snow fell. They continued along the road.
"Almost", she thought urgently, "Almost!"
She thanked the gods, old and new, when her men continued to ride with her. She had been with her husband for fourteen years and yet she had grown to care for him. Edward Ryder had been twenty years older than Serena when they had been married. But even though her memories of their first awkward week of marriage had faded she still remembered how he had held her to his chest the night their eldest son had died. Serena flicked her wrist sending Goren, her horse, into a gallop.

Mud had covered her dress, her horse and her hair when they finally arrived in Winterfell. She heard the loud yells of the watchmen as she and her men rode through the gate, her name and title echoed through the courtyard. She slipped from her horse, pushing the pain of the long journey into the back of her mind. Her urgency to keep Ned from taking the position as Hand of the King had not faded only dulled from frenzied urgency to slight resignation. A part of her wanted to hide her entire family and keep them from the dangers of the court but another part of her was terrified of anything past Ramsgate. She knew though that Ned would take the job. Because unlike the rest of the Kingdom he believed in Robert, the man. She had loved Robert too but if Visery's words were truly reliable he made a terrible king. Debt, disease and crime ran rampant throughout the capital and Robert had fathered at least twenty bastards in King's Landing alone. He had only a lust for women and hunting. Anything else was left to the Council and, until now, Jon Arryan.
Serena wiped her palms upon dress and began the trek towards the entrance of Winterfell, stopping only when Maester Luwin appeared at the door.
"Lady Serena," he said, his eyes lowered for just a moment until he met her gaze.
She nodded at him then before giving his arm a quick squeeze.
"I apologize for coming unannounced, dear friend, she murmured, but, but I have heard the most devastating news and I need Ned's council"
Serena saw that he had seen through the lie when he shifted one eye away from her for just a moment before leaning his head down again.
"Lord Eddard Stark has just returned from a beheading, My Lady," he said, "You will find him in the godswood."
"A poacher?," she asked, generally curious.
He gave one shake of his head, "A deserter, from the Wall"
Curious. Deserters, while not rare, were uncommon. Brotherhood and comrades. Serena gave him another nod before waving a small hand behind her.
"See to it that my men are fed and rested, please, Maester," she said.
Serena turned towards the godswood, her boots creating a pleasing crunch of ice and snow. She felt something like ice freezing her throat. Fear. She had always been afraid of the godswood, ever since she had gotten lost in them as a child. She had spent a day and night covered in snow, blindly walking. Moving. She had kept to her religion (Her husband had been of the Seven) but her godswood at Holbrooke was a simple tree in the middle of a giant field, surrounded by summer flowers. Her family's godswood was dark, harsh and fearsome. Serena continued her march, fingering her long necklace.
They stood at the base of the ancient weirwood. Covered in vines and wild plants. Her brother had been sharpening a sword and his wife, Catelyn, stood to his side. She remembered that. That sense of friendship the two had developed. Catelyn had been terrified of the North and Serena had longed for a friend. So when Astir had been fighting pirates and wildlings, for a month, she had gone to Winterfell. Their children had taken to each other immediately. But there had always been a nut in their friendship. Jon. Ned had commanded her to keep the secret from everyone, even her husband, but-.
Serena shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. This was not the time for Familial Secrets and Broken Friendships. She had to protect her family. Gathering her skirts she stepped towards her brother, begging the gods to allow her to keep her calm.

He had not been happy about the thought of becoming the King's Hand but the thought of Robert visiting, with or without the rest of the Lannisters, had made his face light up. He was pleased! Serena sighed and threw her arm over her eyes. Serena had begged off dinner and meeting with her nieces and nephews because of her need to rest but she wished she hadn't. She wished she hadn't dismissed Botyr and Tula. Serena wished Astir was here. To hold her close, to kiss her troubles away. And, unbidden, tears entered her eyes. Being alone with her thoughts did not quell the images or words that plagued her mind. And of everything, her brother's death, the face of Lyanna in her last moment, one name plagued her.
Tyrion Lannisters.
She had cried with him. She had laughed with him and once, she had kissed him. But seeing him again after almost fifteen years, it made her hands tremble. She had loved him once. Did she still love him now? Did she still care for that thigh-high idiot? And for a moment she was ashamed. Her brother was in danger and yet she was courting the idea of love with a man who, according to rumor, had slept with almost every woman in Westeros. But that had been her friend, her only friend once. She sighed and turned over; enjoying the smell of fur, snow and burning wood. She was home. But even though the sights and smells and noises of Winterfell gave her comfort, it took her hours to drift off to sleep.

Elsewhere, far away from Serena's bed in Winterfell, on the other side of the Narrow Sea, a young woman with hair the color of milk contemplated her own future. Her perfects hands lay to at her head and tears rolled down her face. And yet even as her mouth shook and her eyes continued to fill with water she did not make a sound. The moon rose, light and frothy among the clouds, and still she lay awake. Her eyes ached with salt and water. Holding her lips together, to contain her cries. Finally closing her eyes when the sun rose from the sea.

end of chapter one.

Hello! This is the 1st chapter of this new story.
I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading.
All mistakes are mine. Please review. **