Ok, before we begin two guest reviews I'd like to address…
Guest: "I hate Theon. Why ruin it for me? Sorry, but bye!"
Mm, okay, so you…felt the need to say this why? I guess I didn't know that I had to spell things out in the summary and thought that readers were smart enough to infer that the person living with the Starks in early seasons/chapters with the most obnoxious, "man-whorish" tendencies was Theon... I also guess I didn't know I was writing this story for you, specifically. My bad—should have run it by you first. Reader entitlement...is…very irritating to be kind about it. It's very easy to make a silent, graceful exit at any point if something in the fic doesn't appeal to you.
Sam: "It would be amazing if Jon catches Opal doing something "human" like reading a book. I'd like him to find out she's a human girl in a wolf's body before he leaves for the wall. I really do NOT want him to get with that wildling Ygritte."
While I am genuinely very neutral about most pairings in the GoT fandom and could ship or not ship almost anything (except maybe Gendraya (?) which I have been into from the start)…you give me an idea with that suggestion. Hm… Also, it probably seems like Jon is the strong contender for a love interest when she becomes human again, but I've always enjoyed a twist, so final decision on that is anyone's guess (including mine). But seriously, interesting comment!
Other than that, not much to say here, so let's jump right into it.
There are some ideas that take careful planning to properly execute, and some that come in a sudden bolt of inspiration. My morning started with me being visited by the latter. Having snuck into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of fresh roasted meat, I was hoping to get ahead of the breakfast rush.
Theon wasn't paying me much attention this early in the morning and that made it even easier. The last I saw him he was trying to seduce his way into some servant girl's bed later… One would almost think people around here would know better than to fall for it, but nope. Eh. I wasn't his keeper. Not on an empty stomach.
If I played my cards right, tilted my head just so and cast big, sad eyes up at whichever servant seemed the most vulnerable to my charms, I could possibly get some scraps fresh from the source instead of waiting on it to be handed to me under the table. Originally, that was all I wanted. Plans to snag fresh food came to a screeching halt when I spotted a large tub of berries, set to the side. Everyone was focused mostly on the baking and the meat carving and cooking that went into preparing a meal for a castle of people.
The fruit? Not so much. Maybe these were meant to go into some kind of pastry…or maybe they'd be served as is. Didn't really matter. Because the longer I looked at them…their wonderfully crimson color, the more an idea wedged itself into my head. They looked like the kind that would stain right into clothes. I made sure everyone in the kitchen was still occupied, creeping closer to the edge of the tub and then plunging in unceremoniously. My legs and underbelly were immediately splattered in dark red berry juice. I carefully lowered my head, chewed some berries and let the juice dribble down my muzzle.
"Oi!" I turned, noticing some very angry servants had spotted me and quickly hurrying out of the tub, scampering across the kitchen floor and narrowly ducking the wooden spoon thrown after me. It was fine. Well, except that I was on the kitchen staff's shitlist… But, I looked down at myself in pride. I was confident this was enough to accomplish my spur of the moment objective.
I trotted around the corner from the kitchens and sat back on my haunches, watching everyone start to congregate in the Great Hall. The smell of smoked meats and fresh bread was wafting through the air now, making my stomach twinge in appreciation.
'Soon, stomach…soon.' I promised. With every day, my appetite seemed to grow. I put that down to the needs of this body, which in my speculation, was still far from done growing…
I didn't mind being the size that I was for now, though. It had its own perks. I eyed Queen Cersei making her way into the breakfast hall, stone-faced and with her children all trailing behind her. She wasn't wearing a gown as lavish as she'd had on that first night.
A magenta gown that didn't have any jewels or an overly-long train, but some kind of golden embroidery around the neckline and sleeves. The gown was pretty, but it was Cersei who made it shine effortlessly. I noticed after the grand entrance at the feast on the first night, the royal family tended to come into the Great Hall much more casually. As casually as someone could be, having breakfast in a fancy dress anyway.
While the golden haired siblings and their mother walked together, Robert wasn't really concerned about leaving his family. He'd somehow waddled his way right past them to take his spot near Ned and Catelyn, with no concern for helping his wife to her seat. Not for the first time, I pitied Cersei, but then deep in my heart I knew it wasn't really enough to say I liked her.
I dragged myself forward. And I truly do mean dragged. Whimpering pitifully, I stumbled toward the preoccupied queen who was talking to Joffrey in low whispers. Myrcella and Tommen noticed me first with surprise evident on both their faces. Tyrion, who was next to his brother, also saw me and appeared amused as I staggered, acting the part of a gravely wounded animal.
"Mother," Joffrey said, and Cersei finally spotted me seconds before I flopped down in front of her with one final shudder, making sure to let my berry-stained paws touch her dress and my drool slip onto her foot.
The reaction was pretty immediate. The queen gave an indignant shriek, stepping back and forcing everyone behind her to fall back too. It drew all eyes to her, naturally. I was trying to remain convincingly "dead" so I couldn't look around or smile like I wanted to, but I heard everything.
"Jaime, you may want to catch our dear sister. It seems she's a bit unsteady on her feet this morning—perhaps too much drink last night— and can't see her way to the table."
"Shut up," Cersei hissed quietly, unamused, "This terrible creature's gone and…and expired on me! Ruined my gown with its filthy blood. If it wasn't already dead I'd have it dealt with."
Expired? If I could have, I'd roll my eyes. My fur was white but I wasn't milk. I tried to keep my tail from twitching. As I'd come to expect from the royals, it was plain theatrics. It wasn't even like she'd have worn this gown again regardless. I didn't see her as the type of person to wear anything twice. And all it would take was a quick hand-washing from some poor servant. Cersei definitely didn't do her own laundry.
More people had come over now; I could hear the additional sets of footsteps. "Opal," someone said, and I found myself lifted out of the queen's way. Sadly, the joke appeared to be over already. I opened my eyes, wriggling in the arms holding me with a pleased grin. The queen's face was absolutely venomous, but strangely, the rest of her family, save for Joffrey, had hidden smiles on their faces. Tyrion was hiding it a little less so than the others, maybe… Jaime was trying to look pissed, in solidarity I guess, but really, he wasn't doing a good job. His eyes were laughing. Well…I still didn't like him much but at least he appreciated a good joke when he saw one.
"Take her out to the kennels, Robb." I could her Catelyn saying, frantic as she rushed for the queen and took her arm. I glanced up and sure enough, Robb was the one who'd come and gotten me. He was wearing a stern expression, to his credit, and he obeyed his mother without a word, carrying me out of the dining hall and away from the delicious scraps I could have had. In hindsight, I might not have thought it all through. But, the look on Cersei's face was one I would cherish, and that made it almost all worth it.
When we were out of earshot, Robb started snickering, and his blue eyes were dancing in that way I loved. "You've gone and done it now." he said. "The queen won't forget this." There wasn't any anger though. He wasn't even pretending to scold me.
Yeah, I know. I sighed. I only have myself to blame…but hey, if you really want to be a good friend… come visit me? And maybe bring some scraps?
Robb looked me over with clear pity in his eyes, shaking his head with a small grin. "I hope that was worth it,"
And despite where it'd led me, I definitely thought it was. Pranking Cersei was a once in a lifetime opportunity—probably.
The dogs inside the kennel perked up immediately when they saw someone they hoped would pay them some attention. There was a chorus of exciting barking, a sea of wagging tails, and dozens of different snouts nosing their way over the gates. Robb took the time to scratch a few behind the ears, and that just encouraged them even more.
Turning away from them, he found me an empty pen and lowered me over the side. I glanced around, unimpressed. The straw on the ground smelled clean, and at least I had my little time-out corner to myself, but I have to say, I preferred my freedom. Well, I guess none of the dogs stuck in here ever really complained about their accommodations. They were happy for a pat on the head, some scraps, and the chance to hunt when they were needed for it. Simple dog things. It had already been established that I was neither simple or a dog.
"There," Robb said, "All settled. I'll bring by some scraps after breakfast." And he started to walk away, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe what I'd done.
I noticed when he disappeared and the dogs settled a little that he didn't bother chaining me up like Shaggy Dog had been. I had a hard time believing he honestly forgot how determined I was. I could get out at any time, if I really wanted. But I decided I'd bide my time and wait for things to cool down in the castle. If Catelyn caught me roaming around right now she might personally skin my hide.
I huffed, the smell of straw and dog making my nose twitch. One of the mutts in the pen next to mine came over and started nosing around curiously. I watched him, wondering how much easier life could be if I was a dog, and not a girl trapped in a wolf trapped in some fantasy world come to life.
Honestly, almost all doubts had been removed. I was living this somehow; I wasn't dreaming. Sure, there was still a chance I was in a coma…but every day as I became more familiar with the new people and the new place I had been living in for months, the more that theory seemed farfetched, ironically. If only Jean could see me now. I flopped down onto the ground, trying to ignore the way the straw felt poking at my belly and the persistent hunger. I brought this on myself, like it or not.
Lazily, I watched a few more dogs come and poke their snouts through the slats, tongues lolling out as they inspected the newcomer. If they were smarter, they'd avoid being anywhere near a wolf. Then again, I was still very much a pup, and not a full-grown menacing beast of a lupine. One day, though…
I was just settling on my back for an attempt at a nap when the kennel doors creaked and then swung open. Needless to say I was up and on my feet before anyone had stepped through. To my surprise, it wasn't Robb, or the kennel master, or anyone else I'd expect to see. Instead Tyrion peered around with mild interest, swigging from his wineskin.
Despite that it was way too early to be drinking, he looked perfectly alert, eyes shifting to me almost instantly. Swaggering over, he leaned into my pen, and I trailed closer, lifting myself up to lean on the gate.
"Ah, there's the clever animal I wanted to see," He reached down and pulled out a small cloth from the Great Hall, unwrapping it to reveal some scraps. My mouth was watering, and I could have eaten those scraps and his hand at the same time when he offered it, but to keep up the wary wolf act, I sniffed at his palm, looked into his face and licked my lips. "Go on then," he encouraged. "You've managed to do what I've been attempting for years, in minutes. I'd say that deserves a reward."
Not seeing the need to continue the charade, I went for the bits of honeyed bird he'd brought, the tender meat and hint of sweetness cooked into the bird melting on my tongue. Tyrion brought out more, and I ate that too. The dogs saw he was passing out treats and they clambered over as close as they could, jumping up against the side of the gate and whining pitifully.
I ignored them, and so did Tyrion. All too soon, what he'd brought was gone and I realized while it had taken the edge off a little, I was still hungry. I appreciated the gesture though, and I made an effort to let him know by offering my head for him to pet. Some might say that was self-indulgent and more to my benefit than Tyrion's, but he seemed pleased as he stroked my head, so I maintained that I was doing a good thing.
"And here I find you, outside conspiring with the beast who's traumatized our poor sister." Jaime said flatly. Great, this guy. My fur bristled a little, but I pretended not to mind his presence. Tyrion was unconcerned, barely looking up.
"Dwarves don't conspire, brother," Tyrion replied. "No one pays us any attention, so we learn far too much. It wouldn't be fair. We'd be running the Seven Kingdoms by now."
Jaime smirked. "I see," He joined Tyrion at my pen, casually propping his elbows on the wood and leaning over. I peered up into his face, making an unimpressed grunt. Jaime raised a brow. "You know, you may just get your chance…"
Tyrion laughed, short and self-deprecating. "You mock. You know my ass will never get anywhere near the Iron Throne."
"Perhaps not…" His brother shrugged, green eyes contemplative. I wasn't sure I liked that look. "But father, on the other hand…"
That got Tyrion to stop petting. I would have been annoyed, but that had caught my attention too. I didn't know their dear old dad, but I didn't trust a Lannister. Tyrion was alright so far, but the rest? "Oh? And what of Lord Stark? You know as well as I that Robert's had plans to make him King's Hand before the old one was even fully cold."
"Lord Stark, it seems, may turn down the position." I had to stop myself from jumping up and down. But I couldn't calm down my treacherous tail, which wagged uncontrollably. I was putting bits and pieces together, just like I'd been doing all along. I knew now that the reason for the king's abrupt visit was to lure Ned away from his family and take him back to King's Landing as a, as far as I could tell, vice president of sorts.
Ned was a serious, quiet man that didn't seem like he'd do well surrounded by people like the Lannisters. Someone that valued honor was bound to get trampled by people that put ambition over everything else. A family didn't get to be filthy stinking rich with a squeaky clean legacy…they got to be that way with desire…and lots of it.
"Hmm," Tyrion mulled that over. "There's something to be said about a life of simplicity…even if it comes with nothing but snow. I'm sure Cersei is celebrating even now."
Jaime's smile was thin, "Aside from not having a wolf in the South, there's not much to celebrate."
"And if Cersei were to push Robert toward someone else…maybe tall, strapping and of the King's Guard?"
"Ser Barristan wouldn't be interested," the taller brother laughed dismissively. Tyrion rolled his eyes. Jaime took a deep sigh, flexing his jaw a little, "Life is too short to spend it even more in the service of a king than I already am."
Tyrion nodded once, straightened his body from over the pen, and brushed a hand down his clothes. "Well…A lovely chat this has been, really. But I'm off to Winter Town. There's a pretty whore there named Ros with an exceptionally wicked tongue."
I backed away through the straw and tried to hide a gag. I don't think I'd ever fully get the obsession with the brothel. "Your own tongue is sharp enough, dear brother. I can't imagine why you'd have need for another," Jaime chuckled.
"Pity then." Tyrion unlatched my pen and I watched it swing open, puzzled. Was he just…letting me go? There were really no harsh feelings on Cersei's behalf? I expected Jaime to have something to say, at least. He was much closer to their sister, to a degree which I'd already established bordered on creepy.
The golden knight had nothing to say, so I scampered out of the pen and stretched, relishing my freedom. Robb might come back with scraps for me like he'd promised he would after breakfast was over, but I didn't feel like waiting around anymore. If I was off the hook, I might as well go and make my rounds for the day. I would need to skirt around Cersei for a while, and of course Catelyn, but that was okay. I had plenty of other places to be and people to see.
I managed to intercept (and surprise) Robb as he walked with Theon and Grey Wind toward the kennels, holding what I assumed was food for me in his hands. If I had to guess, I'd say they'd come the long way, maybe.
Their eyes fell on me the minute I stepped into their path, Grey Wind moving first to bump against my side in greeting.
"Opal?" The boys paused, and I let them take in the fact that yes indeed, I was standing here in the flesh. I tried to patiently let them get over it, but I was still pretty hungry, so I couldn't help but bark, circling Robb and nosing the air. Whatever he'd taken from breakfast, it had my name all over it. And if it didn't, it would in a minute.
"Doesn't waste time waiting around, does she?" Theon commented, unconcerned with where I'd been at breakfast. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? He didn't even have anything for me like Robb did, and I was supposed to be his wolf.
"It just proves how clever and independent your wolf is." Robb revealed three fat sausage links, and I started to drool.
"Wasn't clever enough to know she'd be thrown in the kennels by your mother," Theon snickered. I had a thousand comebacks I could possibly give to that, and most of them would be unappreciated anyway…but first, breakfast.
Hot damn! Robb really came through. Three links of sausage? That was actually a lot more than I was expecting. I snapped the first one in half, savoring the grease, and the little hint of iron still in it. Apparently these were done rare.
In my old life, I wouldn't have dared to touch pork, never even had the urge. I grew up well enough on turkey sausage and turkey bacon. But here? I don't think I'd necessarily have the luxury of applying my old food restrictions, and this was a new body and a new life, so did it really even count?
My inner wolf didn't think twice about the weightier moral questions, it just slurped down the first link, and then the next, ignoring Theon and Robb who watched in wonder. When I finished, I licked my snout, growling happily up at them. I decided that wherever they were going, I could join, and maybe I'd be okay avoiding the queen and good old Lady Stark. I fell into step with Grey Wind, who was in step with Robb. I could have walked at Theon's side, but he'd managed to annoy me yet again.
The boys started talking about what they thought of the royal family so far. How the queen was indeed as beautiful as everyone said, but frigid. And then came Theon's obligatory remark about how no matter how cold a woman was, there was someplace that was always warm… Ugh. Next came more than a few laughs at Joffrey's expense. Those I wholeheartedly condoned and even joined in—not that I was anymore understood than usual.
Myrcella and Tommen didn't leave much of an impression on them, which wasn't a surprise considering the age difference between them and the two youngest royal children. Robb thought there was something about Ser Jaime he just couldn't get to like no matter how good with a sword he was, and Theon remarked how just watching Tyrion get around was enough to make him snicker. Jerk.
But at least, they conceded together, he wasn't really looking down on Winterfell and its inhabitants, the way most of his family was. Lastly, there was King Robert, a loud, fat, promiscuous man who'd once been a great warrior, as hard as that was to believe. Robb expressed what I'd already known, that the king's visit wasn't just to see after Ned's health. There was a purpose. He probably already suspected what that was, too.
"But he'll go." Theon said lazily.
"No, he won't. My father's never been interested in any business south of the Neck. Just because the king is an old friend, it doesn't mean it'll change."
"And if it does?" Theon continued breezily, dismissing Robb's discomfort. "If he rides South and becomes Hand? Wouldn't that be nice for you, Lord Robb?"
Robb grunted, Grey Wind sensing his mood and tipping his head up to push at his hand. He didn't hesitate to roughly rub at his wolf's neck, but my brother didn't mind. "I don't trust the Lannisters, and I don't think the king could stop them if they moved against him, no matter his best intentions." he admitted lowly. Theon gave a long owlish blink, for once not making an inappropriate comment or joke. "Besides," Robb concluded. "Starks belong in Winterfell."
That was that on that, and Theon surprised me once again by not pushing.
Funny how I'd gotten so use to the routine of being around them, I knew we were headed for the tiltyard. It was probably already in use; the prince's giant bodyguard Clegane was out there often, and boy was he brutal…
Vaguely, I thought about where Jon and Ghost were. Off brooding most likely. I loved them both, but, what could I say except that they were at times way too committed to the lone wolf aesthetic.
"Do you think the prince will grace us all with another spectacularly subpar display of swordsmanship?" Theon asked suddenly, just as I heard the grunts and clangs of men swinging swords around.
"Doubtful," Robb scoffed. "But maybe we'll be so lucky to see another spectacularly subpar display of sportsmanship."
They shared a snicker over that. Grey Wind decided to lope ahead, spotting something that interested him enough to leave Robb's side. Curious, I followed, knowing our human counterparts wouldn't be far behind.
Turns out Grey Wind had spotted Jon and Ghost, who were already there watching, down on the ground today, standing beside Rickon and a restless Shaggy Dog. I craned my neck back and spotted Arya watching from her vantage point, the top of Nymeria's head poking up at her side.
I nudged Ghost, then Jon's leg, which earned me a pat between the ears. The spot I settled on was next to Rickon and Shaggy though. They were both leaning forward, like they wanted to be closer to the violence. Jon actually put a hand out in front of Rickon like he was afraid the little boy would bolt, at one point.
I personally don't think Rickon would get anywhere near the spar happening now. If that's what you wanted to call it, anyway. The gigantic Sandor Clegane was downing people left and right, and more than a few times squires would go and drag the unconscious person with dented armor out of the way. Or the person he was facing would lose their nerve and yield.
Thank fuck, too. Because I was pretty sure this guy had no qualms about dealing killing blows. Should little boys….really even be watching this? No one was that concerned for Rickon being there, everyone roaring over the drilling going on. I saw Joffrey off to the side, his perfectly princely state back in place as if he'd never had a humiliating loss not so long ago.
The façade shifted a little when Robb joined us and they locked eyes. Joffrey scowled, and then started whispering and laughing with some Lannister men. Did he…pay them to laugh at his jokes? Because from where I was standing, he was the joke.
"They've been at this a while?" Robb asked Jon.
"Aye. Clegane's in a mood, I think. He's been bashing heads left and right. Must be hard to control himself enough to not actually spill blood."
"They call him the Hound for a reason," Theon added. "Not just for the helm either. That came after."
"I hear his brother's called the Mountain." Robb said conspiratorially. "They say he struck down Rhaegar Targaryen's wife after he violated her, and killed their children without mercy. Even the babe."
"Hmm…" Jon responded. A shiver went through me all the way to the tip of my tail. If this Mountain was built anything like his brother, and if he fought as savagely, then there was no doubt in my mind he could be that cruel.
Feeling sick of the fighting, I crept out of the yard while the boys were distracted by a pair of new fighters—Clegane finally working out whatever rage he had going on. My brothers all watched me go, but none of them followed, and that was fine. They could stay close to their masers if they wanted to; I just really needed the breather from all the buzzing testosterone in the air.
When I found them, Bran was trying to convince Tommen that he could teach him to climb, and of course, the little prince was balking. Although Bran made it look easy, what he did was technically dangerous, not to mention it came with practice and a lot of moxie that frankly, poor little Tommen just didn't have. "We won't start high," he wheedled. "Just a tree."
"What if my clothes snag?" Tommen fretted, glancing down at himself. He wasn't wearing anything as fancy as what he'd arrived in, but it wasn't the comfortable jerkin Bran had on either.
"Mine never have," Bran said unhelpfully. I hadn't exactly expected trying to get him to be friends with the royal children to go over so well. Maybe that showed how eager Bran had been for friends all along. He was definitely being proactive now, trying to engage them in games and conversation all on his own. I was happy for him. It was nice, getting along with your brothers and sisters—my mom was always close to my aunt, and I was always close to Emmet—but having your own friends to play with when your family was driving you crazy? Priceless.
"I…I…" Tommen twiddled his fingers. "H-How high is the tree?" he asked, stalling.
Bran sighed, "High enough to get you off the ground,"
I sat back with Summer and watched them go back and forth in amusement. I knew how much climbing meant to Bran, so the sentiment of him wanting to share that with Tommen was sweet, at the core. But really, Tommen's hesitance came from a sheltered, short existence, so I guess I could see why tree climbing for him was as scary as…falling into a pit of venomous snakes.
Just when I thought Tommen would relent, I heard the crunch of footfalls across the semi-frozen ground, and from my peripheral I saw Tyrion Lannister making his way through the mostly empty courtyard.
"Hello boys," Tyrion came over, something bundled in his arms. "Getting along well I see."
"Uncle," Tommen greeted, no trace of disdain on his face. It was nice that Cersei hadn't corrupted him against Tyrion yet.
"Hello," Bran said, eyeing him in curiosity.
"I've brought something I think you've been missing," he smiled at the little blonde, and the shape in his arms wiggled around so we could all see his dark brown striped fur and the wide eyes peering out.
"Ser Pounce!" Tommen squealed, instantly reaching out his arms for the cat. Tyrion deposited it into a grateful hug and stood back. "Where'd you find him?" he asked, face still smushed up against the tabby. Summer nosed closer to get a sniff or two in.
"Wandering in Winter Town, lost and hungry." The small man hummed. "Now that you've been reunited, be sure to keep a close eye on him." He left with a wink, off to who knows where.
I was happy for Tommen at any rate; he had his pet back and that clearly meant a lot to him. An old memory bubbled up, from when I was young (and human), of the time my brother didn't lock the gate all the way and our dog wiggled out.
I was devastated, and I may or may not have blamed Emmet for a while. Our mom and dad took us around town and we put flyers everywhere, handed them out to people we knew and strangers alike. Eventually, a nice old man brought Sadie back, just in time for the Christmas season. A true Christmas miracle…despite us not even celebrating it.
That was such a long time ago, and yet I distinctly remember the warmth and Sadie lapping at our crying faces as we all piled in and hugged her. A sharp ache filled my chest. I hadn't really spent a considerable amount of time mourning the loss of life as I knew it before, but all of a sudden it hit me hard. All the little things I took for granted and missed so much.
I was restless that night, slipping out of Theon's room to wander the castle. Well, maybe it couldn't really be called wandering. I knew exactly where I was headed. Back up to the library to pick up where I'd left off, reading that book about the Great Houses. My mind was tormenting me with thoughts about my family and everything else that made me sulk.
I couldn't take it. Laying in the dark and listening to Theon's snores with their faces in my mind. Since childhood, heavy reading before bed was a way I cleared troubled thoughts from my head. I hadn't really had a reason to do it, except the one other time, which was more sheer curiosity than anything…but right now, yeah, I needed to read about some ancient family histories or…something.
I crept down dark bends and through lonely halls, light and silent on my feet, putting some of the predator stealth I was finally coming into, to good use. I was attentive to every sound, anything that could have alerted me to anyone I didn't want to be seen by. But so far the coast was clear, and I got to the library without incident.
That was until I was preparing to throw myself up against the door like last time, and noticed it was open more than a crack and candle light was spilling out. Who was here…at this time of night? Who else couldn't sleep? I poked my nose through the crack, then the rest of my snout, and then my whole head.
Tyrion was bowed over a copy of some thick, dusty book, and there was another man I didn't really recognize but I was sure must have lived in the castle, reading in his own chair. It's possible he was only here because Tyrion was, and he wanted to be of assistance in case he needed anything. It was a setback, but after coming all this way, I really wasn't about to turn around and head back to Theon's room yet.
I tried to get in without making a sound, but I knocked the damn table leg with an "oof" and that was all it took to draw their attention. The unfamiliar man startled, but Tyrion only squinted down, and when he registered that I was one of the wolf pups that came and went, he smiled, "Ah hello there little wolf. Come to do some late night reading of your own?"
I bobbed my head once. Yes, actually. So don't mind me.
"I'm sorry, my lord," The man in the corner stammered, "I'll see to it that it's removed."
"No need," Tyrion said. "Not many animals that can appreciate the intricacies of a good text. I'd be honored to share company with one who can,"
While the librarian tried to figure out if he was joking or not, I headed for the spot where I'd found that book the last time, my eyes skimming over bindings until I at last had it in my sights. Aha! Like before, I pulled it down carefully, moving out of the way as it dropped to the floor with a thump.
"What's it doing?!" The man squealed, mortified I had touched one of the books. Tyrion was watching me, fascinated.
"It's quite hard to glean knowledge from a book without opening it up." He said calmly, "She doesn't seem to want to hurt anything, Chayle."
Chayle? That was his name? I mulled it over, wondering if it would come to me. Nooope. Not familiar to me. Probably someone I hardly crossed paths with. I was always around the kids, and how many of them willingly came and spent time in the library?
Ignoring his whimpers of protest, I worked the book open, and carefully, carefully, flipped through until I found the chapter I stopped on.
It was called "House Arryn" and the sigil at the top of this page was some kind of bird with a shield for a body and a crescent moon curving to the right in the middle on T-shaped twig legs. The Arryns were one of the oldest and the purest lines, according to the opening paragraph, of Andal nobility, descendants of Kings of Mountain and Vale, wherever that was located geographically. Their House words, "As high as honor" were pretty cool in my opinion, with a nice chivalrous ring to them.
The chapter went on, talking about the usual things such as the greatest accomplishments throughout history of the members of this House. Their history wasn't quite as intense and exciting as the Starks or the Lannisters, but I soaked it all in, just in case. I read the list of vassal Houses, just like before, and again, one in particular stood out.
Baelish… I…I was sure I'd heard that name too, sometime passing by as Jean was absorbed in an episode. I remember commenting how it sounded like some kind of vegetable, and she'd shushed me.
I pocketed the thought, moving onto the next one. "House Tully" was one that instantly struck recognition in me. Jean told me once, in a rant I only half-listened to, that Catelyn Stark was a Tully before she got married.
And really, that was all I remembered. It was an interesting tidbit at present, and I decided to read up on dear old Catelyn's family tree. The Tullys didn't have kings in their heritage, but they apparently managed to hold a castle for a thousand years, and their lands were rich and fertile, so yay for them.
Their sigil was a silver trout on a blue and red background. They lived by the words, "Family, duty, honor" and thousands of years ago, during the War of Conquests, they joined Aegon to rise up against a tyrannical ruler of the riverlands. When the battle was over and Aegon won, he rewarded them by declaring they were the family to hold total dominion of the Trident (again, a geographical territory I'd have to look up later).
That was how all the other Houses in the region became their vassals. I scrolled the list, which had become pretty customary, and from the names I plucked out one that I remembered Jean railing about. I stared long and hard at the name "Frey". If I recalled right, they were monumentally important to the plot in a negative way.
"Arden, I know you don't watch the show! But have some sympathy. Thanks to those fucking Freys…Robb's…Robb's…" Oh fuck, wait a minute… It clicked, like a key finding its home in a lock and getting it open. The Freys…did something bad to Robb. My Robb. Well, Robb Stark. Something protective surged through me, but I couldn't really protect him against a threat I had no clue about.
I mean, I don't even remember what they did that was so horrible. Just that it was, in fact, bad, and that whatever happened to Robb was directly their fault. I remembered Jean being hurt I hadn't cared more, tears dropping from her eyes. At the time, when Robb Stark was a fictitious character, and I was sure I had a zero in a million chance of ever, ever meeting anyone from her precious show, all of it seemed mundane to me. Some bad thing happened to some poor character in some stupid show.
But now I knew Robb as a person, a real one, and I thought…if he was in trouble I'd want to help. Again, it begged the question of how. And would he need my help? I had no idea how much or how little everything I'd lived through reflected in Jean's show. I glanced up at Tyrion. Yeah, he was nose-deep in his book and oblivious to my small meltdown. The other dude was watching me cautiously from the corner of his eye, ready to throw me out at a moment's notice.
Figuring this was possibly a nonexistent problem I'd just conjured, and definitely something that could wait a night, I nosed into the next chapter.
"House Tyrell" I liked their sigil, a pretty golden rose on a green background. Their words "Growing stronger" were almost a little like something you'd associate with a persistent weed, but if I stopped and focused long enough, I could imagine beautiful, healthy roses, full and resilient. My neighbor grew some when I was growing up and they were so pretty.
I helped her with yard work one year and she snipped one off the vine for me, removing its thorns and handing it to me in a paper towel lightly soaked with water to keep it up I got it home. I ran home, showed my family, and then put it in a vase and watched it every day, feeling like I was living in Beauty and the Beast.
I was sad when it finally wilted and died, but even that I found morbidly beautiful, watching the petals flutter off one by one. Yeah…I was a weird kid, looking back.
I went back to the chapter eagerly, wanting to read about the flower people. Their rise to power started as a humble climb, originally they were stewards of a king. Through the matrilineal side, they were related to someone named Garth Greenhand, and he truly sounded like a fairytale. The chapter talked about how he wore a crown of vines and flowers, and how his presence made the land bloom. I wasn't sure if they meant literally or if it simply meant he had a hell of a green thumb, but regardless, it was interesting. The Tyrells ruled an area called the Reach, from a seat of power named Highgarden. All I could imagine was a lush place with multiple flowers and fruit trees and beautiful marble pools of clear water. The name gave the place a lot to live up to, and I wondered if I'd ever encounter anyone from the Tyrell family who would be able to explain if their home was as magical as it sounded. None of their vassal Houses struck a chord, so I was able to move on in relative peace.
The next chapter made my mouth drop open, and then I guffawed, my blackened wolf lips twisting into a bitter smirk. Well, well, well…
"House Greyjoy" said the page.
'Impossible' said my mind. But apparently not. And what were the odds, in a world like this, that Theon wouldn't be related to them? Their sigil was a big golden sea monster…a kraken, the pages said. Didn't Tyrion call Theon that once in passing? Oh, I couldn't wait to read this. The chapter most certainly didn't disappoint, starting with a bang. They were called the Greyjoys of Pyke, and their family had been around since the Ages of Heroes—a very epic sounding name unfairly associated with people I'm pretty sure are related to Theon—descended from the Grey King. Who, by the by, happened to marry a mermaid.
…Coolio. They were people from the Iron Islands, and they basically raided and plundered wherever they went. They would be called "ironmen" by those who crossed them. They were terrors on the high sea, and fierce in battle… nice. Fucking pirates. My maw opened in a wide yawn, and I blinked rapidly to startle myself awake again. It worked for a little, and then it didn't, and my eyes started to droop.
No, no, no! Not when it was just getting to the best part. My body didn't listen, my head falling to the old page with a sigh. I had come in here hoping to find a way to lull myself to sleep...and unfortunately I had found it, at the worst possible time.
Next chapter will be the last one for the king's visit, and we will hear Robert's verdict and see just how much canon will be changing from this point onward. Will Jon stay or go to the Wall? Will Ned go South? Will there still be a war? Hm…decisions, decisions.
If you enjoyed the chapter, I'd love to hear from you. Until next time.
And happy holidays to anyone who celebrates anything (there are too many to name coming up, hence the somewhat generic well wishes).