Those lips had left a new burn on my already hideous cheek.

But I welcomed this pain.

As she walked away from me, my hands pulled at her shadow, to embrace her, to feel her skin once again.

I did not know what spell she had put on me.

The Little Birds slim silhouette shown against the dark wilderness before her. She would always be a Lady of Winterfell, but she knew she was more.

I walked up the steep hill toward her, her dark hair blending in with her surroundings.

I did not have to say a word.

She kept looking forward, ready to run.

Gently, I held her shoulder, for comfort, for strength.

Soon, Little Bird, soon.

Nero galloped as fast his strong legs could hold; I could feel his heartbeat under my legs. Dawn was approaching steadily, the cloudy gray sky cracked with beautiful orange rays.

The temperature had dropped severely, the chilly wind blowing against us.

The cold felt wonderful as it roughly touched my face. It reminded me of home.

And there it was on the horizon. The large castle stood upon the barren hillside, the smallest rays of morning sun touching its structures.

Could it have been another beautiful dream, I thought to myself, as a held on to Sandor's hard back.

Was this real?

Suddenly, my body beckoned me to run. I jumped off of Nero's back as deftly as I could, ignoring Sandor's yells. And my stiff legs did the rest.

I ran as hard as I have ever ran in my entire life. My lungs could have burst and I would not have known. I could feel the grass beneath my thin shoes, brushing past my legs with the wind guiding me. I swear I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Closer and closer the castle beckoned. I would see them again; my family would smile and I would embrace my loved ones. The closer I ran toward the castle, the harder my heart would start to ache.

Something was wrong.

As I approached the large hill, Winterfell looked the same as I had left it so many years ago. I had left it as a naïve, twelve year old girl looking for princes and white steeds. And now I return, almost five years later, a wanted traitor.

The castle became more apparent each second, the frigid wind reminding me so much of my childhood.

But my legs suddenly stopped moving.

I looked among the columns of my home. I looked toward the grand intimating gates.

There was not a single person in sight. Even the peaceful farmers and cattle that usually grazed on the hills had disappeared. The typical guards were gone. The transcendent sound of dire wolves racing among the grass...

Gone.

No, it could not be. I started walking as fast as I could while catching my breath. I could not stare away from Winterfell; the castle had frozen my gaze.

Sandor was behind me, asking if I was not harmed, or if I was alright. He went on to reprimand me about jumping of the horse, but I could not hear him. His yells fell on my deaf ears as I finally stood in the courtyard of Winterfell.

It was just as I remembered it so many years ago. Memories of my past shifted rapidly in my mind. I could hear everyone, their voices, troubles, and lullabies. But that was all that there was.

Memories.

I had completely forgotten Sandor, as his warm hand touched my shoulder. I looked at him for answers, for the reason of the dreaded silence. But in his eyes I could see disappointment.

I found myself walking once again, toward my old room. The corridors that once were so welcoming now seemed desolate, barren in the dust.

The filth on my furniture and bed took the appearance of snow. Most of my belongings were gone also.

Sandor never left my side.

One of the small jewelry boxes laid closed on one the wooden shelves. I remembered the days my handmaiden would pin my hair with all sorts of beautiful adornments. I opened the intricate box to find one small, silver barrette. It had a small crystal flower embedded in the small opening. It had dulled to a rusty metallic color.

I closed my hand over it and placed it in my small pocket. Maybe I could use it in the future. Maybe it could come of use.

I stood in front of the gates once again. And I realized I had no tears left to fall. My eyes ached and my heart felt as heavy as stone. Yet, my tears were dry.

"Little Bird, I…", Sandor started to speak. But there was no explanation. I knew Winterfell had been through battles. I could not have been so foolish as to think it would have stood years of no invasions or wars.

But I had been foolish once again.

The people of Winterfell had been wise. They must have left the castle for their own good, I knew it. Bran and Rickon, Old Nan and Hodor, my handmaidens, and my Fathers loyal followers…they must still be alive. They were safe, maybe even hiding like myself in the dark.

Until one day, our winter will come. And we will strike down.

At last I could see one shred of hope. The Godswood stood untouched by time. I approached the mystical trees as they seemed to glower back. Scarlet leaves fell like snow on the rocky ground. My mother used to pray under these same trees.

Why had I not realized this beauty so many years ago?

The oldest wierwood stood in front of me, its ancient face gleaming. Its image reflected off the black pond surrounding the enormous trunk. When I was younger, the olden face used to frighten me.

Now all I wanted to do was gaze at it until the end of my days.

Sandor stood a little ways from me, his presence continuing to comfort me.

"The trees. They have not been touched by war, or disease, or even sadness", I said softly. I wanted to smile at him, to be assured of some hope for the both of us. My heavy eyes started to water, but I held them back with all my might. I wanted to be strong.

But the foolish, cowardly girl continued to cradle back into its nest.

I slowly fell onto the ground, into the pile of soft rosy leaves. I had never felt this type of despair. It was then that everything fell. The pain was unbearable. I wanted to pray, just like my mother had done countless times, but the prayers did not come.

Sandor wordlessly ran to me, as his muscular arms wrapped me in warmth so searing, it felt like summer. He had held me before, that irrevocable night I had killed another. But now I could feel his own demeanor change, his hands become gentle, his voice, once a battle cry dimming to a caressing whisper.

"Your war begins now, Little Bird."

His steel eyes met mine. A jolt of fire could be felt among his arms beckoning me even closer to his chest.

Sandor had never gazed at me in this way.

The leaves rustled as the icy wind blew among the dark treetops. My arms were still holding unto to him, his large chest breathing hard against mine.

The space between us diminished as his warm lips fell upon my own, his arms encircling my body into a gentle embrace. I could feel my whole body flush red as his lips moved against mine.

I could not think. I could not move. I could only feel his lips, his touch, and the rhythm of his dance on my mouth, swaying me off from this earth and into a calm oblivion.

Winterfell, Joffrey, death, and pain melted away. The gray sky had become clearer.

I knew I could not leave those arms again.

…..

Thanks again to those that have read and reviewed! It might be a few days until I can update again; busy times are approaching! But I hope you have enjoyed the story so far! :)- Adryanna