Hey readers! I'm baaack! Sorry for the really, really long vacation that I took from my stories. I want to take a moment to thank all of you who have read and reviewed and urged me to come back and keep writing. You have inspired me, and I hope the inspiration lasts. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, all in Mari's POV, as promised long ago.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. What else is new?

A Tale of Magic and Monsters and Lords

Chapter 10. Stubborn Stark Sisters

Mari

The morning of the first day of the Hand's Tourney, I awaken with the sinking suspicion that my sister is not, nor has she ever been, in the South, as I first assumed. Instead, due to her surroundings in my dream last night, I believe her to be in the far North. I realize my dreams, thus far, have failed me, and so I am reluctant to put faith in the idea that Ashlin is somewhere in the North, but since I haven't had any luck seeking her out here in King's Landing...she must be somewhere else. The North is as good a place as any; in fact, she's probably safer there than she would be here in the King's city. Though I am disappointed, that I am not as close to Ashlin as I'd like to be, coming to King's Landing was not a complete waste of time. I have found myself an ally in my father's old guard captain, Max Tattersall, and I have the distinct impression that Lord Stark needs me around for at least a little while longer.

"Are you all right, Mari?" Sansa asks me as I am brushing her long, flame-colored hair. "You seem...distracted this morning."

She's right, I am distracted. My thoughts have become overwhelmed by the constant misdirections of my dreams, and I yearn to be reunited with my long lost sister. I can't share this with Sansa, though. She won't understand. She doesn't believe it is possible for me to find my sister, and I don't blame her because she doesn't know what I do; that my mother used magic to send Ashlin away for protection, and that she has finally returned by the very same magic that banished her. I also don't want her to feel I'm abandoning her, because she truly needs a friend here, someone she can trust. She can trust me. I want to help her, to protect her from the corruptions of the palace, but I don't know how long I can stay. I promised myself I would find Ashlin, and I'm not giving up. But Lord Stark helped me when he did not need to, and I owe him more than a thank-you and a quick exit.

"I'm sorry," I meet the younger girl's stare in the looking glass, "I suppose I am a little distant this morning. I had a strange dream last night."

"What was it about?" Sansa asks out of curiosity.

I decide to tell her truth, "It was about my sister. She was lost in snow storm, and she forgot who she was."

"You must miss her terribly," Sansa comments, her blue eyes filled with pity for me.

"I do," I agree. Then, remembering that I was asked to help mend Sansa and her own sister's relationship, I tell her, "I'd do anything to see her again. I'm sure you'd feel the same way if something were to happen to Arya. She's only a couple years younger than you, is she not?" Sansa nods. "Same as Ashlin." I hadn't told Sansa her name before, but I don't think she'll know the story of my family's tragedy; it was meant to be kept a secret. "She was born one month after my first nameday. We did everything together. She never left my side."

"Arya used to follow me around when we were little," Sansa shares, "She copied everything I did. Now she wants nothing more than to be the polar opposite of me." She scowls, as if Arya being different is a personal insult to Sansa herself.

"But she's still your sister," I point out, "You still love her. And I'm sure that she loves you." I give her a moment to think about what I've just said as I start to braid her hair. "If you do marry Prince Joffrey," I start, loathing the idea of sweet Sansa being tied to that arrogant brat.

"When I marry Prince Joffrey," Sansa corrects.

I continue, "Arya will not be here with you forever. After the wedding ceremony and the celebrations, you'll have to say your goodbye's, and Arya will leave you. You won't see her again, not for many years. Maybe you'll see her when she gets married." Sansa lets out a little laugh, as if she doesn't believe that will ever happen. I frown at her, wondering if she's even listening to me, if she understands, if she cares. "Maybe not. Maybe when you have children of your own, she will come visit you. Maybe not. Maybe you'll get to see your home, Winterfell, a few more times in your lifetime, if your noble prince allows it, but what if he doesn't? What if you never go home and you never see your sister again? Or your brothers? How will you feel then?"

"But I will," Sansa protests, suddenly seeming terrified of my suggestion. "I will. Why are you saying such horrible things to me?"

"Because your sister is here," I remind her gently, "And you want nothing to do with her. My sister is gone, and I'd do anything to have her by my side. Do you understand now, Sansa? I'm not trying to hurt you. I want you to realize the mistake you're making while you still have time to fix it. You don't know what lies in your future. I wish for only wonderful things for you, don't mistake what I'm saying. I wish the best for you. That is why I think you should try harder with Arya. She'll have to try harder too, of course. But you're the older sister, and unfortunately we older sisters have to deal with greater responsibility."

Sansa doesn't say anything for a moment. Then she pinches her lips together before sighing. "I suppose I see what you're saying. It would be sad if I never saw Arya again, and as much she maddens me, I do love her. I'll try, but I can't make any promises. You don't know how stubborn my sister is."

-*-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-*-

After the girls' Septa decided it was time we left the tourney, which was after Ser Hugh was struck in the throat by a splintered piece of the Mountain's lance and choked to death on his own blood right in front of us, Arya announced she was hungry. Sansa had been acting very civil towards her sister up until this point, but the thought of consuming anything after witnessing such a gruesome sight made her sick to her stomach and she ran off in search of a clean chamber pot, the Septa only steps behind her. Arya chuckled over her sister's sickened reaction, but sobered up when she caught me looking at her.

She shrugs, "It's not my fault I'm hungry. I didn't know it'd make her sick."

"I didn't say a word," I tell her innocently. "How about I walk with you to the dining hall?"

"I guess that's all right," She agrees, and we start walking in the opposite direction Sansa ran in.

I can see Arya taking note of my appearance as we walk, but she doesn't say anything. After a full minute, I prompt, "Is there something you want to ask me?"

"How come seeing Ser Hugh die didn't make you sick?" She wonders, studying my reaction to her question.

Somehow I know she'll realize if I tell a lie to her, so I don't. "It was not a pleasant sight. His death is unfortunate." After a slight pause, I add, "He's not the first man I've seen die a bloody death."

Arya's eyes widen in disbelief. "Really?"

I recall the day my mother died, and the Red Priestess finally left our land. My father carried me out of the castle in his arms, telling me over and over to keep my eyes shut and not look around. I wanted to listen, and I tried to keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, but somehow hearing him say not to look so many times made me that much more curious to know what was out there. I opened my eyes, for the briefest of moments, and I regret that decision every day of my life. I will never forget the sight of my father's dead men or the ground beneath my father's feet soaked in their blood. How I kept from crying out at the ghastly sight is beyond me, but I didn't scream. I just clung tighter to my father as he lifted us onto his horse and rode for Highgarden.

"Yes, really." I reply as calmly as possible.

"Wow." She comments, but doesn't question me further on that subject. "Have you ever swung a sword before?"

I am grateful she didn't attempt to pry me for details. "No," I confess, "I've never even held a sword." I ask her, "Have you?" I know she has, since Sansa has told me, but I want to see what Arya says.

Arya looks around to ensure the halls are empty before supplying me with a response, "Yes. My brother, Jon, made one for me, and gave it to me before we left Winterfell." I don't ask, but she informs me, "He's at the Wall now. He's joined the Night's Watch."

"You miss him," I guess, by the faraway look on her face.

She nods.

"And this sword he gave you," I question her further, "Did your brother teach you how to use it?"

"He didn't have time. But now I've got -" She stops short, seeming to remember what she was going to say is supposed to be a secret. I already know the secret, but again, Arya doesn't know that. She lowers her voice as she decides to tell me, "Now I've got Syrio. He's my dancing instructor. Except, he's not really teaching me to dance."

"He's teaching you to use a sword," I conclude, pretending to be surprised by this discovery.

Arya narrows her eyes and accuses, not in an angry tone, "You already knew. Sansa told you, didn't she?"

"She didn't mean to," I explain, not wishing for Arya to be angry with Sansa over this, "It was an accident, and I promised not to tell. You don't have to worry about me. I'll keep your secret."

"Sansa must really like you," Arya says, surprising me. "I thought, since father made you her handmaiden, that she'd be cold towards you. But she's being nice. Not only to you, but to me too." Another accusation follows, "Did you tell her to apologize to me? She's never said sorry in her whole life, but she said it to me today; twice. What could you possibly have said to her to make her do that?"

I try and hide the smile it gives me to hear that news. "I didn't tell Sansa to apologize. I only told her it seemed like she might regret spending so little time with you one day. Once she's married and doesn't get to see you or her brothers, or even your parents, very often. I suppose she decided I was right. Does it not make you happy to see your sister trying to make things better between you?"

"I don't know," Arya says first, shrugging her bony shoulders. "It surprised me, is all. I knew you had something to do with it. I still don't see why that changed her mind. She's known forever she would get married and leave home; it's what she wants."

"I had a little sister," I tell Arya, "Her name was Ashlin. When I was four, and she was three, she disappeared and I never saw her again. I may have also told Sansa about her."

"Oh." Arya mumbles, "Sorry, Mari."

We've reached the dining hall, and platters upon platters of food are laid out on the table. Arya takes a plate and starts piling it high with food of all kinds. I follow her silently, not feeling too hungry myself. When we sit, Arya digs in.

In between bites, she tells me, "Well, thanks, I guess. Sansa can be so stubborn."

I smile, thinking to myself, That's exactly what Sansa said about you.

-*-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-*-

On the second morning of the Hand's Tourney, I am praised by the Hand to the King himself on my successful effort to bring together the Stark sisters. Ned seems to think I have a special gift of persuasion, since he's tried time and again to reconcile the girls' differences but has never succeeded as I did, and in only a few days, too. He's very appreciative, and asks me hopefully how long I plan on staying in King's Landing.

"You are welcome for as long as I am welcome," Ned assures me, before I'm able to say a word, "And I do hope you'll consider staying. Sansa is already growing attached, but," He sighs, "I know you came to find your sister, and she's not here..."

"No, she isn't," I agree, "And I do want to find her, I need to. Only...I will feel guilty for leaving Sansa now. I can't bear to think of her in this place all alone, with no friends. She'll have Arya to talk to now, as long as they continue getting along. But Arya, I can see she's having a hard time adjusting to things here in the castle. I wish there was a way for me to do both; find Ashlin and stay here with your girls." I shake my head, "I don't know what I'm going to do, Lord Stark."

"Well, the decision is yours," Ned reminds me, "And whatever you decide, you'll have Max by your side. I will make sure you both have a horse to ride, and food for your journey, if you choose to go." He pauses to query, "Do you know where you'll go if you leave, Mari?"

"Well..." I am hesitant to reply, "I think she may be in the North somewhere. I saw her, in a dream, with a young man, and they were walking through the snow. It's not much, but I'll have to head North."

"These dreams that you have," Ned asks, "How often are they true?"

Again, I don't want to answer, because they haven't been true yet at all. "My dreams were wrong when I saw Ashlin in King's Landing, but I did find Max here. I wonder now if maybe I was meant to come here first, and find him, because he's going to help me find her. And I know I haven't seen her yet, but I know she's here. I can feel that she's out there somewhere and she's alive. I haven't felt that in thirteen years."

Instead of casting doubt on the authenticity of my dreams, Ned wonders, "Do you think you'll dream of her again? The North is a massive place, Mari. It is a long journey, and there is much land to cover. If you dream again of your sister in the North, perhaps I can help you locate her. Do you remember any details about the land from your dream?"

"There was nothing but snow. It was snowing, and the wind was blowing hard. I have dreamt about my sister almost every night now for fifteen nights, but that was the first dream I had where it felt like a real moment. She had always been alone before, but this time there was the young man, and they were talking, only I interrupted them. It felt like it was really happening, that's why I believe she's there. I wish there was more I could tell you." I finally make my decision, "I'll stay, for now. I'll stay until I'm sure of Ashin's whereabouts. Then, I have to go to her."

"I understand," Ned nods. "Well, as I said before, I will try and help you, if I can."

"Thank you, Lord Stark. I am truly grateful." I bow my head respectfully before taking my leave. I have to find something to do with myself before the joust begins. I learned my cousin Loras will be competing soon, and I have avoided him thus far, but I cannot hope to go unnoticed if I'm sitting with the lovely Sansa. I can't be seen, or he'll tell Grandmother, or his father who will tell Grandmother, that I'm here. It'll ruin everything. Hopefully Sansa won't be too upset with me that I'm missing the second half of the tournement.

-*-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-*-

"I can't believe you missed it," Sansa says to me for the second time this evening, "If only you'd been there to see it. Ser Loras was so brave and noble. He really is as handsome as the rumors boast him to be. He gave me such a beautiful flower." She holds up the red rose again for my viewing. "I wish it'd stay this beautiful forever." She sighs dreamily, and I have to press my hand to my mouth to hold in the giggle I'd like to release over her infatuation with my cousin.

"If you'd allow me to put it in a glass of water," I remind her, "Then it will live longer. But if you continue to carry it around all day, it will wither and die by morning."

"All right," Sansa agrees, finally handing over the rose, "If you insist." She watches as I fill a glass with water and place her flower inside, setting it on her vanity so she may stare at it some more. "Do you think he'll stay in King's Landing? At least for a few more days?"

"Who?" I ask her in surprise, "Ser Loras?" Good Gods, let's hope not. I'll feel much better once my cousin returns home to Highgarden. "I don't know, Sansa. He may." Deciding to put an end to this silly crush once and for all, I warn her, "You best not let Prince Joffrey see you swooning over the Knight of the Flowers. I do not think your prince would be pleased."

"I'm not swooning," Sansa protests, her cheeks turning scarlet in embarrassment, "I don't know what you mean, Mari." She sighs and her lips are pulled downward in an unhappy pout. "But it isn't like Prince Joffrey would notice anyways. I've barely seen him since we've arrived in the castle. He isn't speaking to me. He's still upset about what happened with Arya and Nymeria. He blames me, I know he does. What if he never forgives me?"

"What is there to forgive?" I state as I recall her confession of the true events and how she had to lie to keep the prince and Queen Cersei happy. "You stood by your prince's side. You did what is expected of you. If anything, you should be upset with him for his behavior. You are his guest, his betrothed, and he should be showing you more hospitality."

"I could never be upset with Prince Joffrey," Sansa tells me dutifully, "He is going to be king one day. If I'm to be his queen, I must always stand by his side. Whether I believe him to be right…or not."

I feel sorry for the poor girl. I know she thinks a marriage to Prince Joffrey is something to be eternally happy about, but I can't see him making her happy. I know she is thinking of being queen of the kingdoms, the envy of every girl across Westeros, but she longs for love. I do not know if the brat prince is capable of loving Sansa, not the way she deserves. I wish I could warn the young girl away from the boy, but she is too loyal, and since her father already agreed to the marriage she is committed. If there was anything I could do to talk Lord Stark out of marrying his daughter off to King Robert's most hated heir, I would do it. But it's not my place, and if Ned agreed to the proposal in the first place, then he must have his reasons.

I decide a small piece of advice couldn't hurt. Hopefully Sansa won't think I'm speaking against her 'sweet prince'. "You aren't married yet, Sansa," I remind her, "Until then, your duty lies with your family. So, shall we find your father and see what he thought of today's games?" On second-thought, I ask her, "Where is Arya? I haven't seen her all day."

"I don't know," Sansa informs me, "She said something this morning about catching cats."

I hope that wasn't a weird place to leave off. At this point, Yoren of the Night's Watch has come to King's Landing to inform Ned that his wife has taken Tyrion Lannister, and of course, shortly after all hell breaks loose. That will be covered in Mari's next chapter, which will most likely be Chapter 12.

Next Chapter: Will be in Ashlin & Jon's POVs! I've already started it. So I'll post it as soon as it's finished.

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-MissCarolineForbes