Chapter 6
Alana's knowledge of castles went as such: there are two kinds. The first kind was luxurious, palaces made for kings and queens to live in with the finest foods on the plates and the softest silk sheets on all the beds. The second is the practical kind, the type made to withstand sieges, with curtain walls and murder holes.
Winterfell was clearly the second kind, she noted as she passed under the southern gate, taking in the slots where crossbow men could easily fire. It would take the Starks a matter of seconds to dispatch the Royal party if they so desired.
Though none of the holes, however ominous, opened up, Alana kicked her horse onward a little faster, eager to get out of the vulnerable location as quickly as possible.
Passing under the second gate, Alana found herself in the middle of the Winterfell courtyard. Standing in the center in a line was the Starks, although they were hardly the only people in the yard. It was completely packed between the Royal party and peasants and nobles from Wintertown, eager to get a look at their king. Seeing her approach, the people pushed aside to give her room to ride up next to Robert and the rest of her family.
By the time she reached them, Robert seemed relieved to have found her. "And this is my niece, Alana Baratheon."
The crowd had fallen silent, so there was nothing to stop her from hearing someone hiss "Storm!" as Robert said her name. She could feel her face heating up, and it didn't help that the Starks were staring at her.
She silently listed the names of the children Renly had told her about through her head. Rickon must be the youngest, she thought, taking in the wild young boy holding hands with the second oldest boy, who must be Bran. Sansa and Arya are the two girls, glancing at the annoyed looking auburn haired beauty who looked so much like Lady Stark and the dark haired child who looked like she would rather be anywhere else in Westeros. That leaves Robb.
Her betrothed was taller than her, though not by much, and Alana silently thanked her Baratheon blood for saving her from having to stare up at him for the rest of her life. He was frowning as he looked up at her, hopefully the sunlight hitting his eyes from over her shoulder, but she could see his eyes were a river blue, like the ocean after a storm.
He wasn't awful looking, she told herself.
Of course, looks weren't everything.
Lord Stark cleared his throat, eager to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen since the outburst moments earlier. "I am Ned Stark," he introduced himself. "Call me Ned. This is my wife, Catelyn," he continued, gesturing to the woman next to him with auburn hair with a look of disdain on her face. A look Alana saw nearly every time she met a noble, a look that was curiously absent from the face of her son.
She hated Alana because she was a bastard. It was nothing to be surprised about, perhaps even something to be expected, but even so, it still stung.
"And this is my son Robb," Ned finished.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alana," her betrothed said, smiling and taking her hand in his, raising it to his lips. He looked sincere enough, but there was something akin to worry in his eyes, something Alana couldn't quite place.
For a brief moment of panic, she thought she'd leaned too far to give Robb her hand, and that she'd fall off her horse and into the dirt. Thankfully, she righted herself before she reached the point of no return. The last thing she needed now was even more embarrassment, more titters and snickers.
If Robb Stark noticed her nearly lose her balance, he said nothing, merely retook his place in line with the rest of his family.
"It's been a long, cold journey, Ned," Robert butted in. "Could you show my family their rooms?"
"Of course. I'll lead the rest of you to your chambers," Ned called to the royal party, raising his voice to be heard above the whispers that were starting to increase in volume amongst the onlookers.
Robert coughed. "I'll wait for you by the entrance to the crypts."
Beside Alana, Cersei rolled her eyes and sighed, while Ned merely pursed his lips and nodded in agreement.
Ned turned and walked into the keep, followed by the rest of the nobility. Alana dismounted and handed the reins to her chestnut colored mount to an eager-to-help servant, before falling in with the the royal party.
One by one, Lord Stark lead each of the Baratheons to their room, starting with Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen, and finally Cersei, until Alana was the last one.
Lord Stark stared out the window wistfully, biting the inside of his cheek. "I should meet with Robert. Being king has not increased his patience." He glanced back at her, and Alana could have sworn she caught a twinkle in his eye. "Robb, why don't you escort Lady Baratheon to her chambers? You two have much to talk about."
Alana glanced over her shoulder to see Robb Stark just behind her, his hands behind his back. "Yes, father," he spoke up. Lord Stark nodded quickly and left the room, taking large fast steps to get to the tombs before Robert began to get bored.
. Robb cleared his throat, the discomfort in the silence evident. "Your room is this way," he explained, gesturing down a hallway. Alana nodded and took the lead, but she could feel his eyes on her back until she slowed down so that they were walking side by side
Alana glanced at the wall beside her in shock as she dragged her fingertips across the rough mortar. She was expecting cold stone, but instead it felt warm, like blood.
Robb smiled at her expression. "The hot water is piped through the walls. It's the only reason we Starks survived through the winters of old."
Alana smiled, briefly, until she thought that she'd be a Stark soon enough. Lady Stark. Lady Storm, then Lady Baratheon, then Lady Stark. All in the course of a few days. The change was enough to make her head reel, and she had to remind herself that this was her choice, that she could have run away to the free cities if it weren't for the man she'd dubbed 'the ghost of Riverrun.'
"You don't talk much, do you?" he asked.
For whatever reason, she grew angry, her fists clenching and her pulse beating in her ears. How dare he think he know her? "I talk plenty," she spat.
His eyes widened. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to assume. I was just trying to make conversation."
Another attack came to mind, something to keep him from assuming anything ever again, but she chose to swallow her pride and accept his apology. "It's alright," she admitted, albeit begrudgingly. "I'm on edge because of the wedding."
"It's not for another week," he pointed out. "Perhaps we could get to know each other before then?"
Robb was trying hard, so hard, to try to make their relationship work that Alana couldn't help but allow him this. "Perhaps," she responded intentionally indecisive.
They came up to her room, the last one down the hall, guarded by an oaken door with dark metal hinges. "My room is just next to yours," he explained, and Alana wondered if that was intentional, if his family wanted their rooms as close as possible so he could visit her chambers without disturbing them. Assuming they didn't share chambers as a married couple. He coughed. "There are some things I think we ought to talk about before the wedding."
"Later. I have a headache from all the travelling in the past few days," she lied. Perhaps it was wrong of her to lie to him, but she was eager to avoid their 'talk' for as long as possible.
If he saw through her lie, he didn't show it, merely nodded. "Very well, I will let you rest." He pressed a very, painfully formal kiss to the back of her hand before straightening and walking down the hallway.
Alana waited until he was out of sight before entering her room and sinking to the floor, her back pressed against the rough wood of the door.
You'll never be able to love him, a intrusive voice whispered in her head, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was right.
A thank-you to Maddie Rose to editing this chapter. And thank you for all of the reviews this story has gotten. You guys give me motivation to write every time I see another person has read it. I have a basic idea of where this story is going to go, and pretty soon you're going to see why this story is tagged as supernatural. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!
