Tywin Lannister had hoped that the wedding between his niece and the Gale boy would be the last time he would have to set foot in the north willingly. Unfortunately for him, Catia Gale had a very sharp and persuasive tongue and who was he to deny one of the largest families in Westeros? Seeing his children made the time there less agonizing. Jaime and Cersei were his pride and joy and as for the other one, Tywin didn't bat an eye.
"Has the girl acclimated to the Capital?" Tywin asked, his eyes searching the room for the young woman. Cersei held her tongue as her father had interrupted her mid sentence. She knew better than to anger or disrespect her father.
"I'd say Milah has come into King's Landing quite well. Wouldn't you brother?" she asked, leaning across the table to see Jaime who had been resting against a pillar. Jaime shrugged, swirling his wine about the glass, about to reply when Tywin looked to his daughter with wide eyes.
"I meant the damned Stark girl. I should know who my grandson promised to." Cersei smirked, holding the goblet to her lips.
"I've found more favor with the Gale girl father. Joffrey deserves a beaut-"
"The Gale girl is much too old for Joffrey, Cersei you must know that." Tywin interrupted once more, still scanning the room for the Stark girl, finding her with Joffrey by a fire and Milah Gale nowhere to be found.
"I tried telling her father." Jaime pressed, sipping the summer red wine in his cup. Tywin sighed, beside himself at this point.
"Stupid girl. You'd be better off marrying him to the Stark girl anyways. Her father would be more easily played if she is in your pocket." Cersei kept her mouth closed and stared at her cup, lightly fingering the rim as her thoughts danced. She wanted her father's approval more than anything. She looked to Jaime who seemed amused at the entire dealing before him. Her face turned sour at the sight of her lover.
"What will you have me do with the Gale girl then hm? Throw her back to the Stark boy? Or marry her off to Tyrion?" She spat at her father, a little more venomous than she intended. Tywin looked at his children thoughtfully, the cogs in his head turning.
"And insult the Master of War for the Seven Kingdoms with my misfortune? Grand idea. No no. As always, I will take care of this. Needn't you worry child" Tywin said sarcastically, trying to come up with a way to keep this kingdom in his pocket. Cersei looked to her son who sat with the red headed northern. He looked...content, which was fine for Cersei but she almost loathed the idea of having him settle with the girl. She looked to the oldest Stark and was surprised to see him alone. With hearing how Milah spoke to Tyrion about the boy, she assumed she would be there at his side. Yet, the northern flower was nowhere to be seen among all of the frivolity but as the evening continued, person after person disappearing to prepare for the rest of the night.
Milah felt better being at home. She felt freer, like she was finally able to breathe. Mariela had travelled with her, much to her protest, but Cersei insisted. Milah Sat in front of her looking glass, a Dornish robe draped across her as Mariela braided her hair.
"This really isn't neces-"
"Child, go have your supper. I'd like to spend some time with my daughter." Milah caught the reflection of her mother in the doorway and smiled. Mariela bowed to Lady Gale and thanked her before she left down the staircase. Catia took Mariela's place behind her daughter and undid the braids that Mariela had started.
"You're home now. You don't need these southern braids." She scolded, pulling the curls loose to start again.
"You're from the south." Milah countered, challenging her mother who scoffed.
"Dorne and King's Landing are ages apart, my little bird. Besides, Greenwood is my home. Your father is my home." She smiled, thinking of Stefan. Catia had only pulled back half of the curls, pinning them up and clasping her hands together.
"I have something for you." Milah raised an eyebrow at her mother who went to one of the trunks that she had brought from Greenwood. Milah crossed her arms and inquisitively looked around her mother to see what she was up to.
Milah adored her mother. Catia was everything that Milah wanted to be, strong, fierce, and unapologetically herself. Catia had a graceful presence that warmed any room. Milah suspected it was because of her being Martell. Her olive skin and dark eyes were intoxicating as they matched those of her brothers. It was no wonder there were so many bastard in Dorne. Catia turned from the trunk, holding in her arms a rich red fabric, fastened with a silver caging around the middle, much like the dark blue one her mother was currently wearing. Milah clasped a hand to her mouth and reached out, touching the glittering fabric. Catia smiled down at her daughter, beaming with excitement.
"My mother gave me mine when I was about your age so I think it only fitting if you get yours now." The fabric was thin and light. Light enough to wear at the Capital. Her mother had an array of Southern dresses that she only wore for special occasions due to the weather in the North. Though the fabric was red, Milah still found it beautiful.
"Well what are you waiting for child? Put it on before our guests worry." Catia pushed, shoving Milah off to put on the gown.
"Mother, you do realize we're in Winterfell?" Milah teased, pulling up the straps of the dress and backing up to her mother so she could connect the silver caging. Catia frowned at her daughter, yanking on one of the loose curls, making the girl wince.
"Your father, whether he knows it or not, has put a good amount of coin into this extravagance. Winterfell is simply larger than our estate can house." Milah knew her mother meant well but Catelyn Stark had probably her fill of the Gale family. Catia looked to the looking glass and placed her index fingers on her lips as she studied her daughter.
"You remind me of me." She mused, brushing the hair behind Milah's ear.
"You know if you want to come home, no one would judge you for it." Milah sighed and turned to face her mother.
"Just because being home makes me feel comfortable doesn't mean that I want to stay home. The furthest I've been is King's Landing. You know how much more is out there. How much more I want to see!" Catia placed her hand up to silence her daughter.
"I know, little bird. I know." She said, crossing her arms over her slim frame.
"Off with you. I'm sure there's a certain wolf in the hall who desires your attention." Catia pressed, her daughter turning red. Milah kissed her mother on the cheek, snagging her masquerade mask off of the vanity in front of the looking glass.
"I've gotten word that Targaryen bitch is marrying a horse king on the other side of the narrow sea." Robert now had Stefan's attention. The Targaryens should have all been wiped out during the rebellion.
"You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure of it," Robert said, shoving the whore on his lap off.
"The fucking eunuch told me so." Stefan leaned back in his chair to take in all the information that was being thrown at him.
"I assume you want to take action your Grace." Stefan looked to Eddard who sat with his wife. This seemed like a conversation that he should be involved in.
"Of course I want to take some bloody action! Why the hell do you think I talked to you first about it Stefan? I need my Master of War behind me before I go chirping at the Hand." He roared with laughter, confirming Stefan's suspicions that Robert hadn't discussed any of this information with Ned yet. Stefan stroked his beard in contemplation of his next few words.
"What do you propose we do then, your Grace?" Robert sighed deeply, his grip tightening on the goblet that sat in front of him.
"The only thing now is to fund the damn thing." Stefan glanced at Petyr Baelish who was consorting himself with Cerion and Aramella. Robert looked as well and scoffed, making Stefan raise an eyebrow at him.
"There's not enough money in the damned treasury to fund an expedition let alone a war. I'm half the kingdom in debt to those bloody Lannisters as it is." Robert grumbled, gulping down the rest of his wine before yelling at the server to bring him more.
"Which is why I thought of coming to the next wealthiest family in the Seven Kingdoms." Stefan almost choked on his wine at Robert's words.
"Robert, do you know how a man stays wealthy? He doesn't loan out his coin. Most of our money is tied up in the south with that damn brother of hers anyway." He said, glancing at his wife who had appeared in the archway of the hall, a wallflower that was observing the room and the people that adorned it.
"Are you sending me back to Tywin? Really Stefan?" Stefan shook his head and raised his glass to the king.
"I'm afraid so, your Grace. Gods be good." With Stefan's send off, Robert threw back his sixth glass of wine and stood up from his chair, stumbling a bit but gaining his footing strongly afterwards. He adjusted his crown atop his head and headed for the group of Lannisters that sat mere feet away.
Robb enjoyed having his father back in Winterfell. It gave him a sense of accomplishment to see his father so proud of him and the work he had accomplished while he and his sisters were away in the south. Arya was more than excited to tell Robb all about her lessons at the Capital and all of the progress she had made. Jon would be proud of her but if Robb even mentioned his name in the presence of his mother, she would have his head. Regardless of his mother's feelings for Jon, he would always be his brother.
Despite everyone donning a mask for the evening, Robb still felt out of place. Cerion had the same idea as he did, forging a mask to look like his house sigil. The Stark hall was filled with mystery as everyone's identity was hidden for the evening, leaving much to the imagination. Robb feared for a split second that Milah wouldn't recognize him in the sea of people that spun around the hall that had been converted from a feast to a floor. If he couldn't find Milah, he could at least find his father to talk about his wishes for the coming year.
Milah was on her way down the stairwell when the moonlight caught her attention as it peeked into the castle, illuminating the stones that made up the alcove. She dusted off the edge of the sill with her hand and pushed herself up to it to possibly see out to her home over the Winterfell trees. She could barely make out the outline of the Gale Estate when a whinny caught her attention down below. Her thoughts went to the stables and then to Alira and finally landed on the godswood and how long it had been since she had been. Milah peered around the pillars to the hall, the night taking flight with drinking and dancing. No one would notice if she disappeared for a bit. Milah snagged her furs from her chambers and snuck out of the hall as quietly and quickly as she could to run out to the stables.
It only took her a few moments to find where they had stashed Alira. The beast began to blow air loudly and Milah looked around her surroundings frantically.
"Hush, everything is fine. You want to go on a small adventure? Can you keep a secret?" She asked the animal as she outfitted Alira for the short ride through the wood.
"Oh how I do adore secrets." Milah jumped at the voice and turned to see the littlest Lannister, a golden mask held up to his face.
"I see spying runs in the family then. We missed you at the feast, Lord Tyrion." she said, turning back to her mare. Tyrion sighed as if he was remembering a moment fondly and tossed his mask aside.
"I was in better company I'm afraid." Milah let out a hoot of laughter and turned to Tyrion, a smirk on her face.
"If that's what you wish to call the whores of the brothel, be my guest." Milah paused for a moment before she got onto her horse and held her lips tightly together, staring at Tyrion. He looked around him as if looking to see if anyone else was around and smiled.
"Something on your mind Lady Milah?" With the aid of the door that held her horse in, Milah stepped up and swung her leg over either side of the large beast.
"You won't tell anyone you saw me..will you?" Tyrion crossed an X over his heart with his index finger before placing it to his lips. Milah gave him a thankful smile before blowing him a kiss and leading Alira out from the stables.
The Winterfell sky was breathtaking. The sky was black as could be and stars glistened in the night above. Milah missed this feeling, this feeling of no responsibilities or having anyone looking over your shoulder. She finally felt like she could breathe. Her mind drifted off to the group of people she left behind her. Some may have been waiting on her, hell, maybe even looking for her but she didn't mind. All she needed was the crisp air and the smell of the wood to keep her going. She always felt more relaxed when surrounded by such beauty but not as relaxed as she felt when the godswood came into view. Her family was divided between The Seven and the Old Gods. Stefan was much like Eddard in the fact he kept his family's religion and traditions but there was no changing Catia's mind when they were married. Strong-willed woman she was. Milah remembered her septa growing up, always chasing her down to give her music lessons or stitching lessons. She probably should have found a better hiding spot because Milah always ended up in the same place, under the godswood with her horse nearby. Milah led Alira to the water nearby, tying her to a stump before taking a seat in front of the beautiful tree. When silent, she could swear the trees were speaking to her. When she was little, her father told her to simply sit and listen and the answers would come to her and with all of the decisions and things happening around her, all of the chaos, now is when she needed to listen the most.
