Hiya I'm back peoples ! Happy reading and let me know what you think through reviews! Season 5 has made me inspired again, so expect some new stuff coming up SOON. If you see anything you recognize from S1E1, it's from transcript and obvs not mine. Enjoy!

Nine: Summer Snow

ALEXYS

"Your Grace," The Lord of Winterfell said in his solemn voice.

King Robert cracks up. "You've gotten fat."

To Alexys' surprised Lord Stark smiled, something she wouldn't have thought him capable of. Next to him was his wife, whom Alexys knew used to be a Tully, with her long auburn hair in a braid and blue eyes, and they were surprisingly cold.

The only child who had taken after her was their eldest daughter, a pretty young girl with bright red hair, bright blue eyes and a vacant smile. Was this how girls her age were supposed to look?

The eldest boy did have his mother's eyes, but his hair was dark and curly. Then there were two kids with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and the smallest one had lighter brown curls, but their eyes were the same.

Alexys could hear Queen Cersei and her children descend from the coach, and she could hear the smallest Stark girl whisper, "Where's the Imp?"

"Will you shut up?" snapped her older sister.

"Who do we have here?" said the King, inspecting the oldest Stark boy. "You must be Robb."

He turned to the redheaded girl. "My you're a pretty one," and then he asked her sister, "Your name is?"

"Arya," said the girl boldly, making Alexys grin.

She used to be like that, but growing up a lady, the girl would learn to be more respectful, like she had.

Arya saw I was grinning at her, and poked her sister, muttering, "Who's she?"

"Will you shut up?" the girl repeated, more pointedly this time.

Then suddenly, Robert said, "Take me to the crypt."

"We've been riding for a month, my love," said Cersei. "Surely the dead can wait."

Alexys caught Robert's eye, and she knew why he wanted to go so badly. Lyanna. He looked back to Lord Stark.

"Ned."

Cersei looked furious, and Alexys knew that it must be hard for her, knowing your husband would always love a dead girl more than you. There was no love lost between the Queen and herself, but after she shaved Myrcella neither one could say they hated each other.

"Sansa, why don't you show the princess around?" said Lady Stark, her lips pursed.

Alexys wondered that was her natural face, or if she knew exactly who Alexys was. A backstabber, a murderer, and worst of all, a Blackburn. She wouldn't be surprised if it had been House Tully that had ransacked her home and killed her family. If it was, she was content to let Catelyn Tully know she had failed.

"If Lex comes with me," said Myrcella, closing her hand around Alexys'.

Alexys did her best not to look surprised, but then again, she was almost the only girl around the princess growing up, and she had saved her life that time.

"Of course I will," she smiled. "Anything for you, princess."

"I can take you to our sowing lessons," said Sansa, although she did not seem too impressed by Myrcella or Alexys.

"I like sowing," said Myrcella happily. "It helps me take my mind off things. Although, Alexys is no good. She's never learned."

"But my mother said you were a lady before your family got killed?"

It was Arya, not even bothering to blush.

"My father taught me how to shoot with bow and arrow and how to wield a sword, how to sing songs and be respectful," replied Alexys. "He said that was all a lady needed to know."

"I hate sowing lessons," confessed Arya. "I want to learn how to shoot, it's so unfair they're teaching Bran and he has a horrible aim-"

"Arya!" shrieked Sansa.

"Good aim rarely comes naturally," Alexys said calmly. "No matter how hard you practice, some people learn how to shoot the wrong way, and their aim will never be perfect."

"Is your aim perfect?" asked Arya.

"Yes, it is!" Myrcella answered for her. "I've seen it!"

Alexys smiled, "Alas, I never did learn how to sow..."

Myrcella and Arya cracked up, but Sansa was scowling, thinking she was being mocked.

"I've always wanted my hair to be red like yours," Alexys said, trying to make amends. "Bright red, not dark. You're a beautiful girl, Sansa. I've seen the prince looking at you."

It seemed to work; Sansa flushed and smiled shyly.

"I would like to have you as my sister," said Myrcella. "I've never had a sister before, just Alexys."

Alexys chuckled. The princess was the closest thing to a sister she'd ever have. The girl was small, kind, and brave. She knew how to please and keep her emotions in check, and she was nice but always genuine. She would not hesitate to give her life for that girl, who was so young, and still a better person than herself.

Sowing lessons were a bore, as always, but Alexys found that little Arya sparked her interest. She couldn't have been more different from Sansa. She had no interest in sowing or dresses or singing, but she wanted to shoot and fight.

Alexys wasn't like Myrcella, though. She couldn't lose her thoughts in the craft, so she didn't bother trying, so she just watched the princess and complimented her work, and now and then she stared outside at the summer snow, shivered and wrapped her white fur around her tighter.

Winterfell was beautiful, but she wasn't used to the cold. Yet, seeing the snow on the trees and the wide green plains could take her breath away once she let herself look at it properly.

Her attention was drawn away from the window by loud noises. She turned around and saw the Arya had flung her work to the ground in argument with her Septa and her sister. Small lady Stark stormed out, and Alexys saw Myrcella was looking at her.

"Sisters do fight sometimes," Alexys told her, smiling a little.

"But they still love each other, don't they?" the princess asked.

"Of course they do, princess," said Alexys. "They're family."

"Did you and your sister fight?"

"All the time," she replied, feeling a lump in her throat.

"Did you still love her?"

"Still do, princess, still do."

Myrcella smiled.

"Apologies, Your Grace," said the Stark-Septa. "Maybe it would be a good idea if everyone were to prepare for the feast tonight."

Myrcella went with her maids that were at the door, ready to get changed.

Alexys said goodbye to Sansa and her Septa and went outside, seeing Arya and a dark-haired boy look at two other boys who were practicing with blunt swords in the yard. She decided to approach them.

"My lady," she greeted Arya.

"Lady Alexys," said the boy who was sitting next to her.

He had dark hair like his brother Robb, but he did not have Lady Catelyn's eyes. Alexys could make the leap.

"You must be Jon Snow," she said.

"I am, my lady," he replied, with a dignified sort of look.

How could he not be Ned Stark's son, she thought, with that solemn face of his. He looks more like a Stark than any of the other children.

"You don't have to call me my lady, Jon," Alexys said. "I belong to a family that used to be important and own land. Now I'm just in service of His Grace."

She could see Arya looking at the dagger that was inside her belt.

"Don't you have a sword?" the girl asked.

"I do," Alexys nodded. "I just see no need to carry it now. Swords aren't really my style, anyway. You see them coming."

"Just like arrows," said Jon Snow, before he'd realized he'd opened his mouth.

"You don't need to get close for an arrow, though, do you?" grinned Alexys, enjoying watching him squirm.

He recognized the look he was giving her all too well. People had looked at her father like that. It was the look that accused all Blackburns of being sneaky, backstabbing, manipulative criminals.

"You don't play fair, because you know you're not strong enough," a riverlord had once said to her father.

"I don't care who's stronger," her father had said coldly, "I care who wins."

Alexys smiled at Jon Snow, not really meaning it.

"I'll see you tonight, Jon," she said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible. "Oh, and Lady Arya? If your eyes see where the arrow needs to go, your hands will feel it. Aim with your eyes, not your hands."

The girl seemed confused, causing Alexys to smile. She'd figure it out, someday. With an iron will like that she would certainly go places.

Alexys was just as much pleased Robert had apparently arranged for her to have her own chambers, which seemed more warm than the sowing room, thank the Seven. She took off her coat, when a maid came into her room. She was from Winterfell, obviously, pretty for a commoner, with round brown eyes and dark hair.

One look and she knew who Alexys was. The blood-red hair was hard to miss, Alexys supposed.

She raised her eyebrow when she saw the maid had come bearing gifts. A dress in beautiful dark blue colour hung over the maid's arm.

"His Grace asked me to dress you, Lady Blackburn," the maid said, bowing her head.

"Leave the dress here," she said.

"But-" the maid stuttered.

Alexys realized it might be a tad odd not to let the maid touch her. Bloody Margaery, she thought. She started this.
Nothing's changed, she convinced herself.

"Fine," sighed Alexys.

The girl curtsied and placed the dress on the bed carefully, and went to undo the knot on her leather corset. Alexys closed her eyes and not to make the shiver noticeable to the maid.

When the girl moved to take off the shirt that was the last thing covering her upper body, Alexys' hands shot to the maid's wrist in a reflex.

"M'lady?" she asked.

"I have scars," muttered Alexys, which was true, but not the reason she had panicked.

"So do I, m'lady," said the maid, revealing a burn scar on her left hand.

Alexys nodded, trying to ignore, the soft hands touching her skin while lifting the shirt over her head.

"Are you cold, m'lady?"

She resisted to urge to smack herself.

"I'm not used to snow and ice," she said.

She was glad when the maid was finally lacing up her dress.

"Are you really as good as they say?" the maid whispered, finally.

"I think that depends on what you've heard," laughed Alexys, glad it was finally over.

"I've heard you can shoot a bird of the air and hit it in the eye," said the maid.

"That I can do," nodded Alexys. "Anything else?"

"Did you really kill thirty-eight Goldcloaks?"

She nodded again. That was a long time ago. She wasn't proud of it, but like all things, she had done them to survive.

The maid seemed shocked and excited at the same time. Her cheeks were flushed and she stared at Alexys as if she had never quite seen something before.

"I wouldn't ask such things to anyone, do you understand?" said Alexys, who couldn't help but smile. "I could think of a few people who would think you were very rude."

The maid nodded, still flushed.

"My mother used to say scars weren't ugly, that they were stories written on our bodies," she said. "And that everyone has them, you just can't always seen them. And they don't make you any less beautiful, m'lady."

"Thank you," Alexys said, amused. "There I was, thinking all Northeners were sullen and silent."

The maid curtsied again and left.

Alexys left her chambers to go to the feast, when she found none other than Tyrion Lannister lying against the wall outside her chambers.

The last time they had spoken was when she got arrested. He had been at Casterly Rock for the majority of the time, of course, but there was also the fact he was a dwarf and a drunk and frequented brothels most of his time in King's Landing. Lord Lannister wasn't exactly passed out yet, but he had obviously been drinking. She could smell.

"Lord Tyrion," she said heartily.

"Lady Alexys," he said, straightening himself and standing up. "I must say, you look ravishing."

"Thank you, my lord," she said. "Aren't you supposed to be preparing for the feast?"

"I will not be attending," he replied. "I would look even more unpleasant next to my beautiful brother and sister."

She didn't really know what to say to that.

"Not even for the wine?" she tried, causing him to chuckle.

"I would be happy to escort you right until the doorstep," he said, "although I do not imagine you would want to."

"It would be my honour," she responded.

His chuckle disappeared and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not lying," she said quickly.

"Aren't you the one who said 'Courtesy kills as easily as a sword'?" asked Tyrion.

"My father said that," Alexys corrected him. "My family lived by those values. My family also consisted of more imperfections than you can imagine. I've learned to be untrusting of perfection."

That made him smile once more.

"Right until the doorstep," she said, extending her arm.

He linked his with it. She was relatively small, she suspected three years of not having enough to eat to have to do with that, so it worked without being too awkward.

"You're quite forward, my lady," he chuckled.

"So are you," she replied.

"Baratheon brothers like forward, don't they?" said the Imp. "Except for Stannis, I suppose-"

"What exactly are you implying, my lord?" she said, pretending to be oblivious.

People gossiped. She was a young girl, Renly was a handsome young man, and Robert had a reputation for liking girls other than his queen. She had caught him liking a couple up close on occasion, but the man was like a father to her, and Renly her dearest friend.

"If I have the proper measure of you, which is the case with most people, you are perfectly away of exactly what I'm implying," he chuckled.

"I don't do gossip," she cut him off.

"You're not even going to deny it?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I did," Alexys said plainly. "I'm from King's Landing."

Tyrion looked very, very amused.

"I like you, my lady" he said. "Why we've never spoken before is a mystery to me."

"You made reference to fucking me when we first met," she said, deciding being blunt or courteous would have the same effect anyways.

"Actually I made a reference to you being my whore," Lord Tyrion corrected her.

"Lord Tyrion, what exactly is it that you do with your whores?"

The Imp chuckled. Alexys could feel a shiver run through her body, actually from the cold this time. The dark-blue dress was beautiful, but did very little to keep out the cold.

She could spot Jon snow talking to a man in black.

"What's a man of the Night's Watch doing here?" she asked Lord Tyrion.

"Ned Stark's brother Benjen," he replied, as his eyes followed the man who went inside.

One of them was emerald green, Lannister-green, and the other was murkier and darker, nearly black in the pale light of the moon.

"You're uncle's in the Night's Watch," Tyrion said loudly, addressing Jon.

The bastard spinned around, seemingly surprised at who were approaching.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Preparing for a night with your family," Tyrion dismissed simply, continuing on a more interested note, "I've always wanted to see the Wall."

"You're Tyrion Lannister," Jon remarked. "The queen's brother."

"My greatest accomplishment," responded the Imp, making Alexys' lips curl into a tight smile. "You – you're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?"

Like before in the yard, Jon Snow appears angry at the use of the word 'bastard', as he grunts and turns away.

"Did I offend you?" asked Tyrion, albeit mockingly. "Sorry. You are the bastard, though." "Lord Eddard Stark is my father."

"And Lady Stark is not your mother, making you a bastard," the Imp concluded simply. "Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor. Then it can never be used to hurt you."

Alexys looked at the man in a whole new light.

"Who knew there was intelligence under those deep layers of insolence," she huffed, trying not to seem too impressed.

"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" Jon snapped.

"All dwarves are bastards in their fathers' eyes," he replied simply. "Do you have anything to say, sell-sword?"

"Ex-sell-sword," she corrected him.

Renly had been trying so hard to remind her. The blood would never go off her hands, but it was in the past, just memories and stories and they couldn't haunt her anymore.

"Of course, my lady," said Tyrion, sounding awfully mocking somehow.

He escorted her up until the doorstep, as he told her he would, and bid her farewell, deciding not to kiss her hand as most lords would. She was glad.

The hall in which the feast was held was pleasant, at least temperature-wise, and the smell of wine and food and merrymaking hung everywhere and entered her nostrils immediately.

King Robert, who had been getting a little bawdy with a fat Northern wench stopped fondling her with one hand to beckon her over. She approached the table where the King and Queen were seated with the Starks.

"My thanks for the dress, Your Grace," she said, not bothering to do her appalling version of a curtsy.

"Have a drink, Alexys, let your damn hair down!" Robert bantered.

He was unlike any of the other people in King's Landing, the only person outside of Renly of whom she knew for certain carried not ulterior motives. Robert was a lonely man, who tried to fill the gaping hole in his chest. She could relate to that, and she reasoned that was why they worked well in each other's company. He'd always said he wanted a girl like her for his daughter.

The maid who had dressed her handed her a cup filled with wine with a shy smile. Alexys felt her lips curl upwards too, much to her disdain. She downed the entire contents in one go, coming to the conclusion that really nothing tasted better than the red Dornish Robert had in King's Landing.

"That's more like it!" said King Robert contently.

The maid filled Alexys' cup almost instantly, as she tried her best not to lock eyes. She could see some of the boys in the hall looking at her, Robb Stark and the sons of Ned's bannermen. She paid no more attention to the pretty maid and decided to go over to them. Winterfell and her summer snows were beautiful, but she found herself longing for Renly and King's Landing, or maybe if she was really honest with herself, she longed for those happy summer days she had spent at Highgarden.