Sorry for the delay! Let me just say that if I could punch school in the face...I would.
First note; the winner of the favourite OC poll is...our lovely Elira Manston! Thanks to everyone who voted!
Second; everyone, go and check out Natti Vogel's rendition of Seasons of My Love! He wrote a ton more verses for the song, and both his piano playing and singing are fantastic! Go on YouTube and look up Seasons of My Love by Natti Vogel! You won't regret it! Of course, I don't own the song; that belongs to GRRM and Natti Vogel!
Third; thanks to Charlotte K for beta reading! Love you, girl! You rock!
Lastly; thanks to everyone who reads/faves/subscribes and most especially reviews!
Enjoy!
More author's note will be at the bottom!
Elira
"We need plenty of candles for Lord Tyrion's chamber," Lady Catelyn Stark ordered the servants. "I'm told he reads all night." For the past two weeks, Winterfell was in complete chaos. Ever since the raven arrived, the whole castle was buzzing with excitement and anticipation for the king's arrival. Catelyn wanted everything to be absolutely perfect; she made sure that her children were on their best behaviour, and she was even giving Elira early instructions on how to be the Lady of Winterfell. The whole prospect of becoming the next Lady of Winterfell was rather unnerving to the girl. The closest she had come to any of this were her simple dance and needlepoint lessons. She never had to worry about the responsibilities of ruling a whole castle; she left that to Arabelle.
Elle silently followed Cat and Maester Luwin as they walked through the dining hall, shouting commands and instructions to the servants. She barely recognized the dining hall; all of the tables were reversed and rearranged to accommodate the large royal party they were expecting. She doubted that Winterfell ever had that many guests before; no wonder why Cat was worrying so much.
"I'm told he drinks all night," Luwin chuckled.
"How much could he possibly drink?" Cat shot back. "A man of his…stature." From behind the two, the Manston girl grinned foolishly. She had heard many stories of the Imp from her father and uncle; she was anxious to meet him.
"We brought up eight barrels of ale from the cellar," Luwin informed her. "Perhaps we'll find out." Elle could hear the amusement in his voice.
"In any case," Catelyn concluded, "candles." The three of them left the dining hall and walked through Winterfell, making sure every tiniest detail was perfect. "Gods, but they grow fast," Cat mused, spotting Bran's direwolf outside the stables.
"Brandon!" Catelyn and Elira yelled, spotting the young boy climbing down the tall tower. He hopped down the wall and landed on the roof. Despite his sure footing, Elle was always extremely worried about his climbing. She tried her hardest to be in his presence as much as she possibly could, to ensure that his feet stayed on the ground, where they belonged. He always used the same argument; "You climb, too!"
"I saw the king!" Bran exclaimed happily. "He's got hundreds of people!"
"How many times have I told you? No climbing!" Catelyn scolded as she watched her son climb off the roof.
"But he's coming right now!" the young Stark boy protested. "Down our road!"
Catelyn took a few steps toward Bran once he landed on the ground. "I want you to promise me no more climbing!"
He gnawed on his bottom lip and looked at the ground. "I promise," he said, raising his head to meet his mother's blue eyes.
"Do you know what?"
"What?"
A small smile found its way onto Cat's face. "You always look at your feet before you lie." Brandon grinned in response. "Run and find your father. Tell him the king is close." The boy ran off, a spring in his step, with his direwolf following him.
"Would you like me to find Sansa and Arya, Catelyn?" Elira asked politely. She was already dressed and ready for the king's arrival. Her handmaidens had practically held her down and groomed her the entire morning, saying that the next Lady of Winterfell should look proper and respectable. They even somehow managed to straighten her wild locks.
Cat gave her a tired smile. "That would be lovely. Thank you, dear." Elira bowed her head and scurried off to find the Stark girls. Elira trusted Sansa to be ready, but, knowing Arya, she'd have to take yet another bath and change into a new dress. Hopefully, there would be enough time before the king arrived.
Elira Manston arrived in the courtyard and slipped into her spot in line in between her husband and Sansa. She nervously tugged at her skirts, smoothing out the wrinkles and picking at the invisible dirt. "You look beautiful. Stop worrying," Robb murmured, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"Thank you." She felt her cheeks heat up; they'd been married for almost two months, and still, she couldn't take a compliment from him without blushing as red as a maiden. "I must admit, my love," she began, a teasing smile on her face, "you look much better with a beard."
His handsome face cracked into a grin. "You should see Jon," he muttered back, subtly nodding toward his half-brother standing behind them. "I swear, he's never met a girl more than he likes his own hair."
"I heard you, Stark," Jon Snow growled mock-threateningly. "Must you always say that?" Elira giggled; she could hear the pout in his voice. She took a small peek at him; the bastard was frowning and self-consciously tugging at his cropped hair.
"Where's Arya?" Lady Catelyn asked, whipping her head from side to side. Elira's hazel eyes widened; shit. She had just been with her! Where could she have gone? "Sansa, where's your sister?" The red-headed girl just shrugged.
"I just saw her a moment ago!" Elira blurted out. "I don't know where she could have gone-" As if on cue, the Stark girl ran up to them, panting. She wore a helmet too big for her head, which threatened to fall off with every step she took.
"Hey, hey, hey," Eddard stopped her. "What are you doing with that on?" He pulled the helmet from the girl's head. Elira and Robb couldn't help but smiling at Arya. "Go on." The Lord of Winterfell gave the helmet to Ser Rodrik.
"Move!" Arya ordered, shoving Bran aside. Her younger brother grumbled something incoherent as he shuffled away from Sansa to make room for her.
Elle spotted Prince Joffrey, sitting upon his horse, a smug smile on his face. His green eyes met the blue ones of Sansa Stark, who was batting her eyelashes at the prince. The Manston girl almost couldn't wait to tell Ryker about Sansa's new love interest; my dear brother, you've been gone a month, and already Sansa Stark has forgotten about you! Was your kiss truly not as good as she made it sound? Following him were the Kingsguard and a tall, frightening man in a wolf's helmet. When he pulled up the helm, a scarred and burnt face was revealed. Elira assumed the man was Sandor Clegane, otherwise known as The Hound. A red and gold carriage came next. It halted in the middle of the courtyard.
King Robert Baratheon rode through the castle gates on his stallion, followed by his Kingsguard and the rest of his caravan. Elira couldn't help the frown that appeared on her face; all of the stories she'd heard of him had been about how brave, handsome, strong and gallant he was. Looking at him in the flesh, he was just a fat drunkard.
He stormed over to the Starks, his expensive-looking cloak billowing behind him. With a small gesture of his hand, Ned stood up. The rest of the household pushed themselves off the ground.
"Your Grace." Eddard bowed his head. He and the king stared at each other for a few moments in silence.
"You've got fat," Robert declared. Ned raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded towards the king's protruding stomach. Baratheon and Stark laughed loudly and hugged each other. "Cat!" Robert stepped away from the Warden of the North and wrapped an arm Catelyn.
"Your Grace." She smiled. He reached over and mussed up Rickon's curly hair.
"Nine years." The king shook his head, stepping in front of Ned once more. "Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"
"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours."
One of the knights jogged over to the carriage and opened the door. Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen hopped out. After them, out stepped Queen Cersei Lannister, with her bright green eyes and long flowing golden hair. The queen wore a beautiful red dress under a thick cloak of beige and brown furs.
"Where's the Imp?" Arya demanded in a hushed voice.
"Would you shut up?" Sansa rolled her eyes. Elira gently nudged the auburn-haired girl; she never liked it when the two girls fought. She almost considered telling Robb that she decided that she was serious about not having children.
"Who have we here?" Robert mused, going down the line. "You must be Robb." He shook the Stark boy's hand. His dark blue eyes darted to Elira. "Your wife?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Robb replied, protectively snaking an arm around her waist.
The king nodded sharply. "Lucky boy." Elle smiled and blushed, leaning into her husband's embrace. "Aye, you're a pretty one," He said to Sansa. He bent down and scrutinized the youngest Stark girl. "Your name is?"
The girl licked her lips nervously. "Arya."
Robert moved to stand in front of Bran. "Oi. Show us your muscles." Brandon flexed his bicep, a grin on his face. Robert chuckled and patted the boy on the shoulder. "You'll be a soldier."
"That's Jaime Lannister!" Arya exclaimed, pointing to a member of the Kingsguard. He took off his golden helm and gave his hair a swish. "The queen's twin brother!"
"Would you please shut up?" Sansa snapped.
"Girls," Elira warned, giving the two of them stern looks.
The queen picked up her skirts and waltzed over to the Starks. Her full lips quirked up at the corners, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. Eddard took her hand and kissed it softly. "My queen."
"My queen," Catelyn echoed, curtsying.
"Take me to your crypt," King Robert ordered. "I want to pay my respects,"
"We've been riding for a month, my love," Cersei protested. "Surely the dead can wait." She stared at her husband with her bright green eyes. Robert, known for doing what he wanted, nodded to Ned and headed towards the crypts. Eddard gave the queen an apologetic look and followed the king.
"Where's the Imp?" Arya whispered. Cersei looked sharply at the young girl and walked over to her twin.
"Arya, they're our guests," Elira reminded the girl quietly. "Be polite."
"Where is our brother?" The queen asked the Kingslayer. Jaime shrugged, an amused glint in his eye. "Go and find that little beast."
Elira thought that she had never seen so many people in one small space. The dining hall was overflowing with the king and his men, along with some travellers, hoping to make some extra coin. She sat quietly by herself; Robb had gone to put Arya to bed after she threw food at Sansa, and Jon wasn't allowed to come to the feast; Lady Catelyn said that an illegitimate child would offend the royals. Unlike the last time, when her and her family came to Winterfell, she couldn't convince Cat to let him stay; she had no say when it came to the royals and the Starks' reputation.
The first few notes of 'Seasons of my Love' echoed throughout the hall. Elle softly sang along as she watched the musicians play their instruments; it had always been her favourite song. Her mother used to sing it to her every night when she put her to bed.
"I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair.
I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair."
"A dance, my lady?" Robb Stark grinned down at her, a sparkle in his blue eyes. She held back a smile and accepted his outstretched hand. Her husband helped her to her feet and led her to the dance floor. "I must warn you," he murmured in her ear, his breath tickling the side of her face, "I'm a terrible dancer," His words were slightly slurred, giving Elle the suspicion that he'd had a bit too much to drink.
"I loved a maid as fair as winter, with moonglow in her hair.
I loved a maid as spry as springtime, with blossoms in her hair."
"You're right, you are terrible." Elira laughed as Robb spun her around. He pulled her toward him once more and pressed their chests together. "I'd think the heir of the Winterfell would be able to do a simple dance."
"I think you dance well enough for the both of us," her husband chuckled. He captured her lips with his own in a hungry kiss. Elira tasted the wine on his lips and tongue.
"As the land changes masks, so follow my maids and I,
Whether balmy hot or sopping wet or cutting sweet and dry.
Ere my life the good lords fell, I'll prize the memory of each and every lass I've held for a spell.
The seasons of my love."
"Robb!" she giggled girlishly as his lips traveled down her jaw and neck. "Not here!" She thanked the gods for the dim lighting to hide her blush. She gasped loudly; she could have sworn she saw Cat watching them from her seat on the dais.
"So let's go back to our quarters, love." She felt him smile against her neck. He tugged demandingly at her dress sleeve, trying to expose her shoulder. "No one will miss us." He practically dragged her out of the hall and to their quarters, his hands and lips never leaving her body.
Robb was much more insistent than normal. She figured that the drinking didn't help, but there was also the fact that they hadn't made love for almost a week; both had been busy with their duties and preparation for the king's visit.
Robb lasted longer than he usually did, and they made love several times that night. Elira got so lost in the intense feelings and the pleasure her husband brought her, she didn't even notice the slight pain whenever he entered her. It felt like a tidal wave had hit her; the realization of how much she cared for Robb Stark was alarming and staggering.
Her husband eventually fell asleep in the early hours of the morn. The sun started to make its way back to the tops of the skies, making it impossible for Elle to doze off. She stared at the ceiling, unblinking. 'Seasons of My Love' kept running through her mind, the soft melody soothing her.
I'll drink one more cup for every lass that I've held for a spell. You are the seasons of my love.
In the afternoon, a light snow had started to fall. Sansa, Arya and Rickon were excited by the prospect of playing in the snow, something which was rare in the summer, even in the North. Bran was off climbing somewhere, which didn't surprise Elira. She and Jon Snow- who hadn't gone on the hunt with the other men- watched the children laugh and play. Eventually, the three coaxed Elle and Jon to join in on their snowball fight. It's a shame Robb's missing this, the Manston girl thought to herself as she hit Jon square in the face with a snowball. He would have loved it.
Rickon tugged on her skirts. His curly hair sopping wet and stuck to his forehead. "Go find Bran! It's not fair if it's three against two!" The fight was the girls against the boys. Arya had been the one to make the teams, so of course she'd try to make it as difficult as possible for her brothers.
"Come on, Elira!" Jon agreed.
Elle rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, fine." With one final glare at a smirking Jon, she spun on her heel and searched for Brandon. She quickly checked the godswood; she knew he loved to climb the trees. Not finding him there, she wandered aimlessly around Winterfell, trying to find the young Stark boy.
After what seemed like ages, she stumbled upon an abandoned and crumbling tower, with vines crawling up its sides. Bran's direwolf was waiting patiently at the bottom, watching his master climb up the huge structure. Brandon was already halfway up the tower, his feet moving with unbelievable speed and surety.
"Bran!" Elira called, a small smile on her lips. "Sweet, come down! We need one more person for the snowball fight!"
"But Elle!" the boy protested, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. "I heard something!"
"Brandon-"
"I swear!"
She sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Bran, the tower's abandoned. There's nothing or no one there. I promise you." The Stark boy huffed and furrowed his eyebrows. Nevertheless, he scampered down the side of the tower and bounded over to Elira. "And don't climb this old thing anymore," She added, taking his small hand in hers. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."
Bran's face split into a wide grin. "But I never fall!"
OKAY! So! The AU has begun! I know making Bran not fall is kind of a huge change, and maybe even kind of a stretch? I don't know. But that's what AUs and fanfics are for!
More, smaller AU aspects will be coming up in the next chapters, and will, with time, speed up until the story is almost completely different from the TV show/books.
Once again, thank you so so so much for everything! I appreciate the attention my story is getting, and I'm so grateful! I love you guys!
Don't hesitate to drop a review! C: