Prologue

The sun was shining brightly, I had almost forgotten sunlight, it seemed. All I could think of was darkness. I could hardly remember what the warm rays felt like.

I lifted my hand up from under the bed covers, holding it out so that the golden light danced on my pale fingers. It was warm, so warm. I looked around me, half in a dream; it was all slightly blurred and hazy.

I was in my bed, but I couldn't remember getting into to, or going to sleep, I couldn't remember doing anything, not yesterday, or for many days.

I was frustrated and frightened by this realization, why can't I remember anything?! I looked around again, and then up at the ceiling. There was a scratch in the stonework above my head, Arya did that.

I smiled, the memory was a fond one, my little sister had jumped up and down on my bed on the morning of her seventh name day, and she woke me first of course.

She had been holding, holding, a fork I think, I can't remember why. Well she scratched into the stone with it and the crumbled dust fell straight onto my head, and all in my mouth. Jon and Bran had just been coming through the door, having heard Arya's laughter.

I was angry at first, the little pieces of stone having gone in my hair and some even in my mouth, but soon we were all laughing. Jon, Arya, Bran. Where were they?

I sat up straight; the room was coming into focus. My head was aching; a dull throbbing pain that threatened to split my skull. I moaned and fell back onto the pillow.

The heavy oaken door swung open slowly, and an old, sad looking man walked in. I looked up at him, smiling weakly, "Maester Lewin!" I murmured, he gasped and his sorrowful, watery blue eyes lit up like sapphires.

"Mirari! You are awake! I shall fetch your mother at once." He gently patted my arm and felt my forehead, then hurried from the room once again.

But I didn't see him return, the room was darkening, and my head was feeling lighter. I sank back into the mattress, my thoughts wondering. I struggled to stay conscious, but my chamber was disappearing quickly.

In the distance I could hear a wolf howling, its call sad and heartbreaking, and then the world went dark once more.

When I woke again, my hand was trapped. I sat up, more slowly this time, but the head ache did not come. I looked about; my mother was sitting beside me, asleep, laid back against the chair.

Her face was older than I recalled, creased with worry lines, even in slumber. It was in her grasp that my hand was held, and her fingers were slim and gaunt. She looked thinner, more tired, weak and weary.

"Mother?" I said, gently pulling my hand away and touching her shoulder. She sat up suddenly; her eyes were wild and haunted. But as she fully woke and saw me, her eyes lit up with joy, and she smiled, but her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Mirari! My sweet, sweet girl!" She cried, embracing me. She felt so frail and bony that I feared I would hurt her as I hugged her back. She was frightening me, my mother had always been so, strong. She never cried, she was always my mother, my protector, but now I felt almost like she was the child and I the parent.

"Where am I?" I asked her, frowning with worry as she reluctantly sat back down. She sighed, the happiness almost entirely leaving her Tully blue eyes, so alike my own.

"There is so much to tell, my daughter, and so little time." I sat up fully, still holding her hand. "Tell it all and tell it true." I said softly, and she smiled a pained smile as I quoted father.

She took a breath, and began. "When you woke, two mornings before the king was to arrive, you were very ill. A terrible fever, it hit you hard and left you unable to get up.

Everyone, everyone doubted whether you would survive, most thought that you would not. So, when the king and his party arrived, and the king proposed a betrothal between a Stark girl and his eldest son, prince Joffrey, it obviously would have been you, as our eldest daughter.

But, seeing as you were in no state to travel to Kings Landing, and your death was deemed likely, Sansa was betrothed to the prince in your place.

After that, King Robert asked the question he truly came to the North to ask, that your father become the new Hand. Your father accepted, and so it was planned that Sansa, Arya and... Bran would leave for Kings Landing with your father."

She spoke my brother's name with a pain, and I felt a sudden terror wash over me, what had befallen him?! My sweet, innocent little brother, with his dreams of knighthood who climbed the castle walls like a monkey.

"But, while the royal party were here, your brother, Bran, he, fell." I gasped; my eyes wide with worry and horror, Bran never ever fell. "Where?" I asked her, "The Broken Tower." She replied and I felt a sob swell in my throat.

"He, he was in a coma of sorts, and was put into bed. Nobody knew whether he would live, and most expected that, like you, he would pass. Even if he did awake, Maester Lewin told me, he would be a cripple."

Tears were welling in my eyes, making the room blurred once more. My mother, choked down a sob, and contained. "So your father and sisters left with the king. And I was left with two children unconscious, both unlikely to live."

I nodded, "But, last night. There was a fire, in the old library. I was with Bran, and I stayed with him while Robb left me to go and put it out. A man came in, he had a dagger. She held up her other hand, which had been in her lap the whole time.

There were terrible scars across her fingers; the cuts were deep, one of her fingers almost cut off. I gasped again and took her hand, gently touching the scars. She winced and went on, "He was sent to kill your brother. Why? You may ask, because he saw something. We believe that Bran didn't fall; he was pushed off of that tower because he saw something he wasn't meant to. Bran's wolf killed the man; your brother is, safe."

I sighed, "But he hasn't woken?" She shook her head, "What do you think he saw mother? And who sent that man to kill him?" She closed her eyes, holding a hand over her forehead.

"The Lannisters." My eyes widened, "But, father and Arya and Sansa are with them, in the same city, the same castle!" She nodded, "Your father and sisters are in a very dangerous place Mirari. And that is why I am going to Kings Landing, I would have left yesterday, but when you woke..."

She smiled sadly, "I couldn't possibly leave without seeing you, telling you first." We sat in silence for a while, still holding each other's hands, her eyes were bright with determination and a tiny flicker of hope, she looked like the strong, fierce mother that I knew and loved again.

"Sleep now my daughter, for tomorrow I will depart, and you will hopefully be well enough to get up soon." I frowned, "I feel fine mother!" I complained, but she smiled and stood, leaning over me to kiss my cheek.

"You are my strong little girl, you will protect your brothers, I fear that Rickon, I have not cared for him as I should have while Bran and you were, asleep. You must watch over them both, and Robb.

Make sure that he is alright, he is young still; make sure that he is not alone. You are thirteen Mirari; nearly a woman grown, these are dangerous times my sweet summer child, but winter is coming."

Then she let go of my hand and walked from the room, the door swinging shut and her words echoing in my head.

Winter is coming.