Note: Hi guys! It's been a while I know. I'm sorry. Even if I did warn you about my... sporadic way of publishing, I can't help but feel bad about it... I try my best I swear! But I do have a lot to do now that September arrived...
As for the chapter itself, well most of you must have guessed what is about to happen. If you don't I'm not going to spoil the plot! We are slowly going through the important things that I need to put in place before the actual beginning of the show. With all the delightful characters we love to hate. You know whom I am talking about don't pretend ;)
Anyway, I'm done with my babbling now ;) I'll let you enjoy this piece of my little mind! See you at the end ;)
CHAPTER 5: Farewell Brother.
Year 297 third month too sixth month.
Kyria
One small week after the arrival of their beloved wolves, Jon announced it. He was going to the Wall. To take the Black.
The news came to them with a bunch of different reaction. The younger ones protested, of course. To say the boys were upset would have been the understatement of the year. Arya burned for hours in a rage Kyria didn't know her. It was almost frightening Robb looked resigned. He took Jon apart as quickly as he was able to and exchanged a long conversation with him, isolated in a corner.
Sansa didn't say anything. She looked at all of their faces, and dropped her eyes on her hands, quietly sited next to Kyria, like the perfect little lady she still liked to be most of the time. Her sister's council, if they helped smooth her relationship with her brothers, did not erase years of command from both the Septa and their mother. Also, the new addition of their little shadows did help her lose her countenance and act more like the child she still was, to Kyria great delight. That day happened to be one of those when she held her curtsey like a Septa her veil.
As for herself, Kyria gripped her dress in her fist and held her tears.
Since that day with Old Nan, and the revelation of what might certainly be her ability -or curse as she called it on her darker days- Kyria often felt a strange calmness invading her in her most incongruous moments. Something tasting oddly likes an inevitability.
She felt it the day Robb Jon and Bran came back with the pups. She felt it again when Sansa sighed dreamily at something Jeyne whispered in her ear, or when Arya sneaked out of her lesson to practice with a bow. And she felt it again when Jon, with a solemn face and tense shoulders, announced at everyone his intention to take the Black.
She didn't know how to explain it. She felt numb. Like a part of her mind was detached from her body to observe what was happening from outside.
It was strange.
Father protested, of course. But Jon didn't flinch, arguing that he didn't felt like he belonged in Winterfell and he wanted to make a name of his own.
It was no mystery who was responsible for Jon's sudden decision. The beaming smile Lady Catelyn shown at the news was clear enough. The great Lady, in her joy not to have to suffer anymore the presence of her husband's biggest mistake give her more joy than Kyria ever saw in her face.
Unfortunately, her children, who loved their half brother didn't take well this display of happiness. Arya, the worst of them all, refused to even be in the same room than Lady Catelyn for an entire week. Mother, of course, blamed Jon. This made Kyria hoped for him, that Uncle Benjen wouldn't take long to come to get him. At least, up in the Wall, he won't have to endure her mother's cold glares.
Kyria didn't like the idea of one of her brother away from their home. But she knew she couldn't prevent it. Now that Jon had made his decision, nothing could convince him otherwise. She tried, of course. But Jon was stubborn when he wanted to.
"It's not your decision to make Kyria." he had said, voice firm and severe in a pretty accurate imitation of their father.
She had been impressed. Truly. Enough at least to let it go. She didn't want to alienate him by insisting again and again on the same topic. Even if she was dying to do so. She just had to hope for the best. And prepare for the worst.
As so, with a new determination in her eyes, she started to bully him in spending as much of his time as possible reading everything she could find that might help him. She dragged him almost every afternoon to the Godwoods, to talk with Father, and even requested special lessons from Maester Luwin, in subjects she knew Jon couldn't learn with Father, or in some books. She was determined to force some kind of knowledge inside this thick skull of his or die trying.
On top of her list, his communication skills.
Good gods, his communications skills...
"Why would I bother with this Kyria? I'm going to the Wall, not into some battle of wit or whatever you have in mind!"
"Jon, brother, as much as I love you, you're virtually unable to communicate like a normal human being." she cut him as he opened his mouth ready to complain, or refute, or whatever it was he wanted to say. "No, look, when something's wrong, you're brooding, when something makes you happy you're brooding, when someone walks on your foot you're brooding! Good gods, you even brood when you sleep! Don't deny it!" she ignored is outraged look and pull the last string in her argument. "And as cute as your puppy eyes can be, they won't work as well on the brothers of the night watch as they do with the cook. Or the maids. Or the old lady in the kitchen you beg sweets from. I saw you don't say otherwise. "
Robb laughed at this one, like the supportive brother he was. Jon looked upset, for one second. Then his face closes up in a pout they all knew well. Kyria's finger flew right under his nose with all the accusation she could put in it. Surprisingly, it was a lot.
"There! See? I said something you didn't like so you brood!"
"I'm not!"
Kyria fell her eyebrows twitch without her consent. The expression of her face must have speak for her, as Jon's shoulders dropped, and he gave a tentative, resigned nod.
"So what are your precious councils oh dear Sister?" mocked Robb.
She glared but didn't take the int. Or, well she tried not to.
"That goes for you too!"
...Yes, she failed not to. Nobody was perfect.
Then, before any of them could say anything, she proudly pulls a small book from out of nowhere. The thing looked old and a bit dusty, but the obvious fingerprint on the dirt of the cover shown a recent use. From Kyria, obviously.
"This little beauty is called 'the art of manipulating your audience' and is marvelous."
"Manipulating?" they chorused in perfect synchronization.
She nodded proudly.
"I won't ask you to read all of the things, yet. But it does have a great council for the both of you"
"What is it?" grunted Robb.
"If you want to be listened to, learn to talk. If you want to learn to talk, learn to listen. If you want to learn to listen, ask the right question."
Jon blinked, then looked at Robb, who blinked back at him. They looked at her and blinked again. The pair of them looking remarkably like a pair of owls blinded by the sun. For a very arrogant minute, Kyria thought of herself as the sun. It didn't last, but she liked the image.
"What?"
Kyria said it again, but they didn't seem to get it better this time. She sighed and tried again.
"When you are talking to someone, what is the question you must always ask yourself?"
They look at each other and shrugged. Kyria tried not to be frustrated. Unlike her, they didn't read the book after all...
"What do you want?"
"Right now?" asked back Jon.
She didn't wait for him to answer this question...
"No, that's the question you must ask. What does this person want? What can I give them? If you give something in exchange for something else, then you're having a conversation."
"Seriously? That's blackmail."
"No, that's politics Robb. You want something, then give something in return."
"We don't do that..." muttered her brother.
"Because you are good men. I think the worst thing you might do, is to assume everyone is as good and honorable as you two are. Or Father for what's matter." she takes a pause, a bittersweet voice whispering in her ear.
Trust me. Trust me. I can give you what you want. Trust me, trust me...
Frost nudged her hand with his little nose, and Kyria blinked away the memory.
"If those dreamed taught me something, its that people always want something from you. If we want to survive and prevent… prevent it, we must learn to understand what they want, more than what we want from them." she explained, more seriously.
At the mention of her dream, they stopped complaining. The conversation ended up there, but Kyria hoped her message had been heard. She was not sure of what was waiting for them, but she couldn't help but try to prepare Jon for his life away from them.
She wasn't sure it will serve him. But at least she tried.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
She was alone, in the middle of a great plain. The grass was so high it touched her hips. The sun was bright and hot on her head.
This was strange. She knew she was dreaming, just like her latest visions. But it wasn't… it wasn't the same. Something was different.
She was alone. Completely alone in a sea of green. She looked around. But there was nothing. It was scary in a way. No tree, no road, no water, nothing. Just the sun and the grass.
After a time, she heard them. Screams. Savaged screams coming from nowhere that made her heart beat faster and urged her to run.
She runs. The screams were everywhere. Like they were following her. Each turn she takes, she heard them behind her. She tried to run faster but they were as fast, if not more. Coming closer and closer as she ran. The sound, away and hollow was now loud enough for her to recognize the human voice. But she didn't see anyone. There were only the screams.
The beat of her heart was deafening. Suddenly, a rock catches her foot. She falls. She may have screamed too.
Her breath was cut off. She gets on her knee.
Red.
There was red in her hands. Red on her skirt. Trembling, she raised a hand to her face.
Red.
Blood. With no one around. Blood on her thighs, on her hands, on her dress. Blood, blood, blood...Her blood.
She woke up with a startle. Her breath was heavy and quick. At the edge of the bed, Frost whined and put a tentative paw on her leg. His big eyes just opened looked even more pleading than what they use to be. His big ears, not unlike the wings of a bat were flat against his little face. His little nose keeps twitching like he was trying to smell something.
Hands trembling, she brushed off her face. Her cheeks were hot and wet. Had she cried in her sleep?
A pained stab on her belly made her yelp. Something was wrong. Another one put her back on her sheets. Frost yap and came to her face. He licked her cheek, making cute little noises to attract her attention on him. He jumped a little and came back to her, ears still lying on his head in what she thought was a concern.
"I'm Okay boy. I'm- ouch!"
Frost yelp again, and start howling. She panicked.
"No. Frost no, shhh. I'm okay boy, quiet."
He ignored her plaid. She grits her teeth and tried again, more firmly this time.
"Frost. Quiet."
Frost stopped and whined pathetically is yellow eyes huge and pleading. But it was too late. The other pups responded to their brother, much to Kyria shame.
Soon, she heard noises on the rooms around. Voices using the pups, wondering what the heck was happening, moaning about the late hour. Kyria bit her lips and hide her face on her pillow. Another pain picks crisped her shoulders. She swallowed back a moan. She had a pretty good guess of what might happening but she didn't want to think about it. Why couldn't she fall back asleep and forget about all of this night? As if to mock her, another pick of pain contracted her stomach. Good gods! No one told her it might hurt! She was half decided to give up and call her mother when someone knocks on her door.
"Kyria? Everything's alright? Was it Frost who howled?"
Good gods Robb. Why does it have to be Robb!
Kyria almost moaned again. This was a nightmare.
Of course, just as she was thinking it, she felt something hot on her thighs. She made a small noise, at with Frost -of course – responded and throw out the sheets.
Oh, Gods.
The wolf starts passing again, almost constantly whining in distress. He yelps and scratched the sheets with his small claws. She shushed him, and stroke gently his head.
"It's alright, boy, it's okay…."
"Kyria?"
"I- I'm alright Robb."
"You sure? Your voice is strange."
"Yes y-"
Another wave of pain stopped her. She must have made a noise because Robb started to turn the handle.
"No! I'm okay Robb I'm- Just don't enter!"
"What's happening in here?"
Gods as if the things weren't bad already! Jon had to come too.
Her entire face flushed, she took back her sheets, trying to cover her legs end the mess on the mattress. Just in time, it seems, as the boys grew tired of waiting for her answers and open the door, despite her protestations.
Stupid boys.
Robb enters the first, quickly followed by Jon. Behind them, she even recognized the lighter head of Theon Greyjoy.
Great. Just wonderful.
"What part of I'm okay do you not understand?" she asked archly.
"You didn't sound fine. What happened?"
"Nothing. Leave me alone!"
"Are you sure you're alright Kyria? You look pale..." noticed Jon.
Robb looked at him, then at her again. Comprehension flashed in his eyes. Kyria wondered what he thinks he had understood.
"Did you had a nightmare?"
"No. Well yes- but"
"Is it why Frost look panicked?"
"No, I just- Would you both be sweet and go back to sleep please?"
"You can talk to us you know."
"By the gods let it go Stark! Don't you see the girl want you out of the room!" exclaimed Theon from the corridor.
For once she was happy to have him near.
"I didn't ask for your opinion Greyjoy!"
"Kyria are you sure-"
"Yes, I'm sure Robb! Just- would you please go back to sleep?"
She may have just said that a little louder than what she'd plan to, as the boys took a step back. Well, that serves them well for annoying her in the middle of the night.
Even if it's indirectly her fault, or rather her wolf's fault. But who cares about details?
"Easy, easy, we're going! Good gods what's gotten into you tonight?" grumbled Robb as he went back to the corridor.
She ignored him, way too happy with them just leaving her in her own misery.
But of course, as nothing is ever that simple, her pain choose the second Jon was about to pass the door to make itself known again. This time, she did gasp. And of course, because he's the sweetheart he is, Jon went back, alarmed.
"Kyria?"
Robb's head pocked again from her door. She could have growled at them. Wouldn't they just leave already!? She'd never get rid of them!
She pondered a moment, trying to find a way to make them leave and finally deal with her problem. She didn't even know how to deal with it but everything in its own time.
… Or she could- Well that'll work too…
"Alright, you want to help me? Would one of you go to search for Mother? I may need her help..."
"Mother? Why do you need Mother? We can help you too!" protested Robb, looking scandalized at the mere idea of being accused to not be able to help his little sister.
Gods were he dense.
"I don't think you can help Robb."
"Why?" asked Jon. He looked equally vexed. "Lady Stark didn't even know about-"
"I don't know Jon do any of you know anything about moonblood?" she said, out of patience.
It was way too early to deal with fussy elder brothers. Was it one or the other.
Both boy's jaw hit the floor. They grew white, then red, then white again. Jon, braver, ran out of the room, vaguely spluttering how much he wasn't needed here. Kyria vaguely wondered if his escape could be considered as cowardice or intelligence… Maybe both. Robb took longer to get over his shock, trying unsuccessfully to grab up his jaw still on the floor. He blinked, several times. So quickly she couldn't even see his eyes for a moment.
Kyria would have laughed if her insides weren't trying to make a knot with her organs. Cause that was how it feels right now.
"Robb!"
"W-what?!"
"Mother. Please!"
Theon's roaring laughter accompanied Robb out of her room. Mother came only a minute later, in her night robe with her hair cascading on her shoulders. She looked tired and slightly amused. Robb was suspiciously nowhere to be seen. Thank the gods.
"Well, my girl you do know how to make your entrance in adulthood."
Kyria snorted and throw away the covers. Lady Stark eyed the scarlet spot under her daughter's legs and on her nightdress.
"First things first. We need to call over Maerys to take care of this mess."
So they did. She poor girl had to change her sheets in the middle of the night, as Kyria's mother patiently explained everything she had to know to… not make a mess like this.
It was an eventful night.
On the morrow, the young girl spends an awful amount of time trying to cross Jon or Robb on the corridors, just to see them go red to white before turning around and almost run to be away from her.
Sansa was the first to ask her what happened with Frost. Kyria hesitated. She was still a child. It wasn't the kind of thing one discusses on the open like that. But then no one explained anything to her, except she was going to bleed one day, and that was called flowering. Very useful… So she explained everything, the pain, the blood, and what she had to do not to ruin all of her clothes during this period to the month.
She did the same with Arya when the girl asked. Arya didn't really get the point, but Sansa closed to the time when it'll actually happen to her, was pale for a long time after their discussion. It seemed like she didn't even think that becoming an adult and able to bear children would be painful. Kyria even pushed the point to a crude explanation of what is actually happening on the marital bed. That made her run away. She blushed each time she ran to Theon after that. The boy looked smug, surely thinking his infamous charm affected the young girl. Kyria suspected it was mostly the numerous stories he liked to share about his time with Ros and her friends.
He didn't know things like the modesty of fluency. Archaic things...
Mother was pissed off. But Kyria couldn't care less. She was the oldest, she needed to protect her sisters. If protecting them meant she had to scare them to death, then so be it.
In fact, she was even proud of herself, as her initiative paid off a couple of days later when Sansa thanked her for her truthfulness. As the girl complained shyly about how Mother and Septa Mordane sugar-coated everything even slightly related to marriage and marital bed, Kyria's smile could have cut her head in half. She couldn't hide it for the rest of the day.
Since their discussion in the Library, Sansa sometimes went to see her sister. More often than not, she had an argument with Arya and wanted to understand or complain about her sister.
This time, it was about warrior women, the Princess Nymeria in particular. The girl didn't seem to get why she was a princess and a warrior. Kyria took great pleasure answering.
"I don't understand why a Lady would want to fight like a man."
"I'm not against it."
Sansa never looked more shocked by Kyria's knowledge. It was almost funny.
"What? Why? No Lord would ever want a woman who can fight! It's not proper!"
"Proper? Sansa, we talked about this..."
"I know, the armor thing." the girl recalled, rolling her eyes "but it is one thing not having to act like a proper lady all the time. I understand what you're trying to say, but it is a completely different thing to lift a sword and act like a man! It's not worthy of a high born lady!"
"So a Lady must always count on others to defend her life?"
"Why would she have to defend her life? Ladies don't go to war! They don't win tourneys, they don't hunt, or chase bandits."
"Sansa, you can't be that naïve." sighed Kyria, almost archly.
Sansa's cheeks reddened. "I'm not!"
"You are, sister. Women, whether they are ladies or small folk are always, always the favorite prey of men. Easy pretty weak defenseless preys. During a conflict, the best way to hurt your enemy is by attacking his lady. Haven't you heard of rape?"
"I- But surely high born girls..."
"Are the easiest prey, because of their pretty little heads clouded with songs of a gallant knight who save their damsel in distress."
"How could you say that!"
"It's the truth sister. How many time wives are killed to reach their husband? How many daughters are raped, tortured, killed to hurt their father? Woman are tools for their man. Sell for armies, alliances, or power."
"It's not that-"
"It is, sister. Our own mother was sold to father for a political alliance between the North and Riverrun. Marriage between high born rarely have anything to do with love."
"Stop it Kyria you exaggerate..."
"Oh am I? So our duties to our family are not to marry the man Father will choose for us and give birth to his children until our last days? And you wonder why Arya hates being a lady so much. I myself hate our feminine condition most of the time. We are tool Sansa the sooner you realize it the better. Tool sold to noblemen to repair or prevent political mistakes."
"Kyria!"
The girl closes her mouth. Robb scolded her in one look, keeping her to go further. Kyria looked at him, then at Sansa again, finally noticing how distressed she looked. Guilt gripped her throat for a minute. The poor girl was indeed a fool when it comes to her position as a woman, but she didn't deserve this. But then, no one ever bothers warning her of the cruelty of life. Sansa was sweet, yes, but letting her be this naive couldn't be good for her surely?
Disturbed, Kyria rubs he forehead. Still, she shouldn't have lost control of herself that way. Anger was never a good way to communicate.
"I'm sorry Sansa. I shouldn't have lost control of my emotions like that..."
Robb sighed, and hug the little girl, claiming to be his knight in shining armor, that would always protect her little sister. Kyria didn't say anything else but thought none less.
There's no justice in this world... whispered a voice in he head.
She falls asleep a long time after her head had touched the pillow, with a strange sensation. Like she was at the edge of something. She didn't dare call it destiny, but all this mess started to look strangely like a Tragedy. Like one of those pieces, actors liked to share with the world. With death at the end no matter what the characters tried to do to prevent it. Tragedies mean unstoppable fate. And did she knew her family fate…
Whatever it was, she didn't like it.
She dreamed of the little thing with pretty feathers, a large snake with long fingers twisting it like a piece of clay. She couldn't have been more thankful for Frost rapidly growing body.
On the morrow, she found Arya next to her at their usual sewing lesson, the girl looking as unhappy as usual. They worked in silence for some time, then Arya talked.
"I wish mother could ear me when I say I don't want to be a lady like Sansa. Since this thing about insult the other day she won't let me alone about it," she said with an annoyed voice.
Kyria thought of her conversation with Sansa the day before and asked:
"Is it that bad?"
"Of course it is! Being obliged to do all those boring things, like embroidery or calligraphy or-or singing! Why do women have to be so- so- so boring!"
"Is it boring because you don't like it, or because you're bad at it?" teased Kyria.
Arya blushed. Alright, the later.
"Shut up."
"Oh, so it's the last."
"No! It's just-"
Kyria waited for the girl's next word.
They never came. Frustrated, she huffed and furiously pine her sewing needle in the fabric.
"You know, maybe you would like it better if you put some effort into it."
"Why would I do that? It's useless!"
"Do you know hos Masters heal deep cuts?"
Arya arched an eyebrow, not knowing where she wanted to go with that. Kyria smiled. Her long hours locked up in the library where paying indeed.
"They sew the flesh to close the wound. Just like you would sew a dress."
The second eyebrow follows his brother under Arya's hairline.
"Wh- really?"
Kyria nodded. The brunet looked pensive for a moment.
"Why are you telling me that anyway? It's not like I want to heal people."
"I never say you would."
But that made you think, Kyria thought with a smile.
Kyria couldn't have been more pride, when she notices, a couple of days later, Arya looking pensively at Septa Morane's work as she keeps giving counsel to Jeyne. She made her think of her attitude. It wasn't much, but Kyria knew to be glad of small victories. She wasn't going to have much more anyway.
Later that day, she finds Bran on her way to the library. At the sight of his sad little face, Kyria bites her lips. With everything happening recently, she didn't spend that much time with her little brother. As she saw him there, alone in the corridor, she regretted it. So she proposed him to spend some time with her.
The boy was distressed at the idea of Jon's leaving. Rickon gets over it rather quickly, but he had just recently turned six. It was expected for a boy his age. Bran, on the other hand, was older, enough to understand what it meant to take the black. And fragile enough to suffer from the loss of Jon.
To cheer him up a bit, she proposed a ride. Bran loved to ride. It was something they had in common. Bran didn't talk much at first.
"Bran, do you want to go for a ride with me?"
"A ride?"
"Yes, just you and me, brother." someone pulls on her dress. She found Frost's little eyes. " well you, me and the wolves."
The boy looked hesitant.
"You always ride with Robb or Jon."
"Well, now I propose it to you. We could search for caves in the woods. I would be like an adventure. And mother couldn't say anything to you if I proposed it."
"But-"
The boy looked at her, then the stable. She knew well how much he liked to ride. A shame she never took the time to share it with him before. But she always thought he was still too young. Besides, Mother liked to babying him as much as she could. More than even Rickon, for the boy, was too wild for her liking. Bran was sweet. If it weren't for his habit to climb every single surface he could get his hands on, surely Lady Catelyn would think him the perfect child.
"But if mother-"
"Don't worry about Mother little brother. We could take Frost and your wolf with us. Let them discover a few of our Wolfswoods." proposed Kyria with a smile.
That seemed to encourage Bran further, as he smiled brightly at his big sister. Kyria returned it, happy to share something with the boy. The age gap between them didn't allow them to be as close as she was from Jon or Robb.
Maybe she could have made some effort and spend more time with him.
They happily rode through the Wolfwood. At first, it was more for the pleasure of the ride than anything else. Kyria feeling her heart beat faster when Bran laughs at something she said. Then, they tied their horses to a tree and continue on foot.
The two direwolves, now as tall as Bran's waist, happily run around, chasing squirrels. One of them, braver than the other, climb onto her brother's nameless wolf's back. The pup runs around in a circle, trying to catch the little thing's tail.
Bran laughs for an entire minute.
"He looks so lost! You poor thing" smiled Kyria as the pup give up, looking at his master with big sad eyes.
"Poor boy! The squirrel's gone now," said Bran as he gently stroke the pup's head.
The direwolf whined sadly, as his tail betraying his happiness under Bran's touch.
Kyria smiled. What a comedian.
"Did you find a name for him?"
"Not yet… I tried to choose something but I keep changing my mind."
"Why?" asked Kyria with real curiosity.
"I found the name I choose… stupid."
"Stupid? Why?"
"Everyone has good names for their wolves. Greywind, Nymeria, Ghost… And- I found mine so stupid."
"Well, I wouldn't call Greywind a smart choice… or Ghost for what's matter" she joked, stealing another smile from her brother. "What names did you think of?" she asked again. "Maybe I can help you."
"You'll laugh."
"No, I won't.
"You will."
"Why should I? I named my wolf Frost. It's not very original for a wolf coming from behind the wall."
"I found it great."
Kyria snorted. "Well, at least I can make bad jokes about it."
"Bad joked?"
"Now nobody can say that Frost doesn't bite."
Bran blinked and snorted when he understood. Kyria almost feels ashamed of her poor humor. But if it made Bran smile she could tolerate it.
Bran bites his lip, his eyes on his wolf as both pups played with each other.
"So? Would you tell me the named you thought of? Or do I have to guess?"
"I- I thought of naming him Bold."
"Bold? Why?"
"After the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan the Bold.
Of course. The Kingsguard. She should have guessed. It was a good idea. Kind of weird, but why not!
"And why didn't you called him Brarristan?"
"Because he isn't- It's not.." he blushed. "there is already a Barristan."
"It's true… You thought of another name?"
"Hm… maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Summer."
Kyria swallows a smile. There you go.
"Summer? Why didn't you called him that?"
"I don't know...The babies born during summer like us are called Summer Children. I thought that as he's like us, you know, born during summer, I could call him that."
That was smart. Better have a name with a signification than a pretty name that meant nothing.
"Well I think this is a good name for him," she said looking at the pup
Frost had climbed on his brother and was happily chewing his ear. The little pup in return grabbed Frost's tail. It was kind of strange to think of their direwolves, sweet little things as they were, might one day be bigger than a horse. Or at least a pony.
What would it be once they stop growing? How big would they be? She couldn't even imagine it.
"Really?" asked Bran, looking truly surprised.
"Yes. It suits him."
Bran looked at the pup again.
"Try it."
"What?"
"Well, it'll be his name at the end. He should have something to say about it."
"Oh..."
The pup was chasing one another a bit further from them.
"Summer?"
Both pups stopped. They looked at them, all ears and big curious eyes.
"Summer?" he tried again. "Come here, boy."
The pup whined, yelp happily and run to his master, tails wagging so hard he had difficulties walking. He jumped on Bran and conscientiously lick every inch of skin available. Bran laughs again.
Kyria smiled, and stroke Frost fur. There, at least they had found Summer a name. And Bran looked like he had forgotten Jon's imminent departure.
Mission accomplished.
They didn't end their walk there. Kyria and Bran started to look for caves and hidden places. They found a little crevasse under a rock, large enough to hide a grown man. Bran rolls himself inside it while she didn't pay attention, and the girl had to look for him for almost half an hour. She only found him with Frost, when the pup unearths his brother.
Their little adventure ends up early when Kyria heard Jory's voice calling them. Lady Catelyn gaze on them makes Kyria feel like a little girl in fault. But Bran's hug when they went apart, worth every angry lecture she could get.
"Thank you Kyria."
Her smile stayed in place the entire evening.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Two months after their discovery of the pups, Uncle Benjen walked through the North Gate of the Keep, all in black and with a smile on his long face.
The summer snow was slowly falling that day, just enough to make the dirt of the courtyard look almost pretty. Tiny white things making their hair wet and clothed uncomfortable. As the man dismounted his horse, Kyria thought with irony that their uncle from the North was bringing Winter with him. Sansa complained about it just enough time to piss off even Robb, the more patient of them all with the girl's moods. Theon made a joke about it, linking the tiny flakes as a message from the gods to convince Jon to go quickly.
No one except Theon found the joke funny.
In the middle of the mess that was the Stark children, all of them sadden at the idea of their beloved brother leaving -well except Sansa who only didn't like the snow-, Theon Greyjoy looked delighted. He wasn't helping at all, the arrogant little squid
At the right hour, all the Stark children plus Jon Snow waited in the courtyard for their dear uncle. The man entered with a large smile on his long face. Long black hair secured away from his eyes with a tiny leather link. He happily hugged both Rickon and Bran, then Arya, later. The girl clearly didn't look pleased by her uncle visit. Kyria guessed she blamed him from her favorite brother's decision.
It took two long weeks for Jon to finally gain his sister's forgiveness. Two weeks in which the poor boy keep following her like a lost puppy, desperate to have his little sister's forgiveness. Kyria and Robb had a wonderful time observing him trying. This girl knew how to handle a boy when she wanted to. More than Sansa who was weak on the knee at the first compliment. Her stubborn little face when she finally allowed her dear brother to hug her was priceless.
She smiled at the memory.
Benjen keeps her for the last. She knew, from her Father and Jon that Benjen was aware of her condition. But she never met him before this day and the last time she had to meet again someone she forgot was already more than a year ago. She didn't know what to expect, or how to react.
"So my dear niece, I imagine you don't remember me, do you?"
...Well, straight to the point. At least that was clear. Kyria blinked before remembering her manners.
"Indeed uncle. Pleased to meet you. Again."
Benjen laughed, more expressive than her father ever was. Both men looked remarkably alike, Kyria noticed, same long straight hairs, as dark as the night, same long face, same piercing eyes. It was strange to see a smile so wide on a face so similar to her father's usually so solemn.
Not bothering with any curtsey uncle Benjen hug her with one of his arms, laughing lightly against her hair. She let him do as he pleased, more out of surprise than anything else. Still, it was good to know her family.
The household feasted Benjen's Stark arrival with a fervor rare enough to be mentioned. Kyria learned that her uncle reluctance at her brother's choice of life. Like Father's before him, uncle Benjen spends half the evening talking quietly with Jon, trying to convince him to, at least think about this a bit more. Jon didn't renounce. He was determinate. He still announced his desire to stay at Winterfell for at least a month. To be sure his nephew measured his choice and its consequences.
Kyria didn't know what to think about this. She never really thought about her uncle at the Wall. Now that she found him in front of her, his sight agitated something inside her head. For a second, this numbness that sometimes inhabited her was back, so strong, that for a moment, she couldn't hear, feel or know anything more than than the strong beat of her heart, calm and composed, in the tumult of her thought. As she was studying this face she never saw before, something inside her wanted to cry. She felt this time with her uncle like an exception, something doomed to never happen again under this roof.
Like every other strange feeling she could have felt, Kyria blinked it away. The moment after everything was normal again.
On the morrow, they introduced Benjen to their new companions, enjoying the man's surprised at the sight of the entire litter of direwolves each one obediently sits ant their master's feet.
"Where did you find them?"
"Their mother was killed by a stag," explained Robb.
"We saved them!" pipped proudly Bran, his hand on Summer's head.
"You did? Well, it seemed to be an interesting tale." contemplate their Uncle, with a smile for the boy.
Bram beamed, puffing his chest like a proud little bird.
"It was quite impressive, to see such a massive beast," said Robb with a smile.
Kyria watched them speak without any intervention. She didn't know what to say. For once, she and Sansa shared their discomfort around their family. The truth is, she didn't know how to behave. How one could be a niece?
As she stayed silent, around uncle Benjen, her mind keeps going back to the Dreams, even more often than most days. Uncle Benjen presence agitated her senses. If she didn't suffer another vision violent enough to cut her legs, like it did that infamous day with Jon and Robb, they didn't disappear altogether. Maybe it was uncle Benjen, or maybe it was the knowledge of Jon's imminent departure… but her mind keeps coming back to her visions. She felt like she was at the edge of something. Was it the world or only her life as she knew it now, Kyria couldn't say.
But something was coming. She could almost taste it, on the tip of her tongue. Winter maybe…
Father did promise it.
Sleep was long to come that night. Her heart didn't seem eager to calm down. As was her mind, working again and again without any hope of rest. She dreamed, of course. The pretty little things with soft feathers were followed by the cold bite of winter. Snow splashed with blood, and cold eyes watching her.
She woke up early, as dawn started to shyly illuminate her room. Her handmaiden found her some short hours later, and promptly help her prepare for the coming day. With any hope, Sansa's gift dor her last name day, a dark green dress with a lighter underskirt and pretty flowers embroidery on the bodice would be pretty enough to hide her eyes, puffed by lack of sleep.
"You look awful."
...Or not.
Of course, Robb snorted. Traitor.
"Thank you, Arya. I'm quite well how nice of you to ask."
Robb snorted again, she could have sworn she see water coming out of his nose. Theon barked a loud laugher, quickly tamed by Lady Stark's sweet gaze on him.
"Are you well Kyria?" asked Sansa, a worried line on her forehead.
Kyria smiled at her, trying to forget her tiredness for the sake of appearance.
"I'm alright Sansa thank you. I didn't sleep well that's all."
The girl smile, relieved and took a small bite of her meal. Kyria did the same. On the corner of her eye, she noticed Jon's gaze on them. He sat close to Benjen, certainly to talk about the Watch. What else after all?
She didn't want to think about it now. She was tired, and Jon was still here. He wasn't gone yet.
Yet…
Kyria cleared her throat and took another bite. Rickon babbled to get her attention, pulling her sleeve like the needy pup he was and the girl focused on him. He was like fresh air on a hot day. All smile and happy chat. Like the rest of the world didn't exist. It was just him and his dreams. And sometimes them, Mother, Father, Robb and everyone else.
To be a child again…
...
Or, well to be younger at least.
She had to go to her knitting lesson with her sisters that day. There wasn't much to say about it, except maybe for Arya's unusual attention that day. It didn't take a lot of time for Kyria to understand the reason.
Jon. Of course.
Not without curiosity, Kyria looked at her sister's work. The little girl had begun to knit what looked like a handkerchief. It was small enough. She started what looked like a kind of pattern on the exterior of the fabric. The color looked like silver. The entire thing could have been wonderful, if not for the pattern Arya seemed desperate to knit on the fabric. Kyria couldn't for the life of her understand her sister's intentions in this… Well, the smartest thing would probably be to ask...
"Arya, what would you like to do in your handkerchief?" she asked as innocently as she could.
Maybe a bit too much, according to Arya's suspicious gaze.
"Why? Not pretty enough for a Lady?"
"I wouldn't say that. I love the colors you choose."
Arya blinked than looked back at her work.
"You do?"
"Yes, your pale grey look almost like silver. It's pretty." she insisted.
Arya didn't respond. She touched the lines she tries to embroider the day before. Then, she looked at Kyria's own work, curiosity evident.
"What is it?" she asked, pointing her lap.
"Oh, a doublet. I'm trying to sew something for Jon. A gift for his departure." she explained, caressing the soft fabric on her lap. "It's not as good at Sansa's work but I don't think it that bad either."
"It's not..." responded Arya.
She looked pensive.
"Won't you… give him something? I know how much you love him."
Arya nodded. Kyria didn't insist and return to her own work. Arya will talk to her when she wants.
She keeps her resolutions for approximately ten minutes before she gave her sister's work all of her attention.
Arya's technique was sloppy at best. But she seemed to put some effort into it.
Without a word, Kyria moves her hands, to attract the girl's attention. It worked after some minutes. When she looked at her, Kyria slows down her own movements, so her sister could see how she did to make the right stitch. She frowned and tried again.
After some time, a smile flowered on her face, and she showed her work to her big sister. Kyria's smile matches her own.
"See? You can do it when you try."
"It's still boring."
"Maybe. But not that bad."
"Maybe..." she repeated, her cheeks red with embarrassment.
Kyria left the session satisfied with her work. With her doublet and with Arya.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Uncle Benjen was with them for a fortnight when it happened.
He usually spends a lot of time with the boys, training them on the yard the afternoons, telling them stories. That day, he was helping Bran with his bow, when Arya decided to come to see how it was going. Always curious, Kyria didn't wait long before joining them. Sansa came along, more out of a desire not to be alone than anything else. After some observation, Kyria decided to take a risk, and join actively the practice. Arya's expression only was worth the potential humiliation.
"Are you sure Kyria?" asked Robb, looking slightly worried.
"Yes. Why not! If Arya can do it, why couldn't I?"
"Well, Arya obviously isn't at her first try. But you never hold an arrow before."
"Kyria it's really not proper to do this kind of things. It is a men's work." protested Sansa.
"And since when is it forbid to try a new thing?" Kyria responded, all of her attention already on the bow in her hands.
Robb patiently explained to her how she was supposed to do this. Then she tried. She band the bow, an arrow carefully secured between her fingers. Her arms protested as she did it and she grimaced, silently cursing her womanly situation that didn't allow her to built up some muscles. She realized the arrow, who gloriously plant itself several feet before the target.
Robb laughs, as did Arya, but Kyria didn't take offense. She tried again. Sansa keeps protesting but Kyria didn't ear it. She was learning something useful. That's all that mattered to her.
"Sansa, if you have so much to say about it, come and try too!" called Robb, a large smile on his face.
Kyria's face snapped at him. He searched his gaze and, once he had it, he winked. He actually winked at her. Was he- Was he planning something?
"Me? But I- No it's not- It's not proper to do so."
"Do you see anyone here to impress sister?" he asked, not giving up for a bit.
Sansa shakes her head, unsure.
"Then there's no need to be proper. I agree to play to all of you games dear sister, the less you can do is humor me for this one time and try to shoot this arrow."
Oh, the sneaky little shit!
"But-"
"Sansa. If I can tress a crown of winter roses, you can shoot this arrow. Don't make me beg you."
That… was strangely cunning, coming from her sweet honorable big brother. She as about to comment it out loud when something made her jaw hit the floor. To her complete surprise, Sansa, her dear proper little sister huffed, looked at their brother right in the eye and took the bow from his hand. Robb smiled proudly and put her next to him, not waisting another second to start explaining what she was supposed to do. The girl seemed to drink his words like those of a god. Or Septa...
The sneaky little shit! She couldn't believe her eyes! Not only did he tried to manipulate their little sister into doing what she wouldn't do otherwise, but he actually succeeded!
"Did Robb just-" she said to Jon, as Sansa was getting ready to shoot.
"He did. I couldn't have believed it if I didn't see it."
"Is Sansa trying to shoot?!" asked Arya, quite taken abash.
"Apparently."
"Since when does she make her hands dirty playing boys games?"
"I dare say… now?"
The little girl looked like she couldn't believe it. Kyria herself had a hard time believing her own eyes.
Sansa shoots her arrow. It went right to the target. Not in the center, obviously, but it did reach it. Kyria's jaw went right back to the floor.
"Seven hells!"
Robb laughed and congratulate Sansa. He looked proud, like he was the one who shoot the arrow.
"That was fantastic! Sister, I think we found another of your talents."
Sansa's cheek reddened. She looked pleased with her brother's compliment and wore a smile Kyria rarely see on her. It was blossoming on her face like a rose in the gardens. She was really pretty when she was happy.
Arya grumped, next to her and almost tear the bow from her sister's hand.
"That's rubbish." she snarled.
"Arya!"
The little girl shoots an arrow right at the center of the target. Then, she turned to Sansa, a smug smile on her face.
"See? That's how you do it. But you can't know with all your sewing and little songs! That's not something for stupid girls like you!"
"Arya!" protested Kyria.
Sansa's face fell. She gave back the other arrows Robb had put on her hand, bow to her brothers and Kyria and flew the yard before anyone had the chance to hold her back. Robb lost his smile and glare at Arya.
"What? She's not good at it! Why should I lose practice time for her? She can go back to her needles for all I care."
"Arya that's enough!"
Kyria's angry voiced made the girl jump. She looked at her, with big innocent eyes, wondering what she did wrong. Kyria didn't loose time to explain to her what was wrong and follow her sister's steps, afraid that if she stayed, she might say something harsh.
However, once at the doors, she couldn't resist. She turned back.
"If she's bad at it, then I am worse." he snapped. "Will you try to humiliate me with your perfect skills too, or is it only for Sansa?"
She didn't let her respond. Instead, she walks through the keep, looking for her sister. She found Sansa in her room, her pretty head buried in Lady's soft fur, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.
"Oh, Sansa..."
She kneels next to her and gently ran her hand in her back. Sansa fell on her arms, loud sobs escaping her mouth. Kyria rocked her slowly, shushing in her ear and gently stroking her hairs.
"Shh, it's alright sweet girl, it's alright. You were brilliant down there, don't let your quarrel with Arya ruin it. It's alright..." she kept saying, occasionally kissing Sansa's crown of hair.
"She-she ruined it! She ruined all of it!" responded Sansa between her cries.
"Shh, it's alright. Everything is alright."
Uncle Benjen found them a couple of minutes later, his face grave. Kyria knew he had assisted at all of it. What was he going to do now?
"Kyria, Sansa, would you both come with me? I think you need to talk to your sister Sansa."
"I don't want to! I don't want to see her ever again!"
"Sansa, dear don't be silly. Even if you don't always like it, Arya is your sister. You'll have to talk to her one day on another."
"No!"
"Sansa..." sighed Kyria.
She understands her sister's hurt. Arya and Sansa's numerous disputes were common in the keep. But recently, they grew more arch, almost hateful sometimes. Kyria was worried about it. Most of the time she was in the middle and she didn't want her relationship with her sisters to be always like that. Arguing ans purpousely hurting the other. An eternal war of sort.
"Sansa, Kyria and I will be with you all the time. But I think you need to talk to Arya. At least try." asked again their Uncle.
Kyria was glad of his presence, if only for this moment. Maybe he would succeed to reconcile her sisters. She'd be grateful if he did.
Sansa agreed after some more coaxing from both Kyria and uncle Benjen. The man of the Watch leads them both to an empty room who used to be a chamber, according to the desk and the big empty bookshelf on a corner. Arya was already here, seated next to a somber-looking Jon. He obviously didn't look pleased with his favorite sister. Kyria couldn't blame him, as she wasn't either.
Sansa and Kyria both sit on the chairs in front of Arya and Jon. Benjen took his own seat, between the four of them.
All in all, it looked like a war council. Or a negotiation one, she wasn't sure yet.
"Alright. Now you two are going to talk." started uncle Benjen a serious expression on his long face. "I understand you don't get along well girls but you are sisters. If something is wrong between you two, you have to resolve the issue instead of being stupidly mean with each other."
Well, again uncle Benjen, right to the point.
"I heard that your numerous quarrels had become quite common recently. And I don't want it to continue. So, both of you girls will stay in this very room with Jon, Kyria and I until you've talked to each other."
Neither opened their mouth. Kyria bites back a sight. That was going to be a long day. She didn't say anything and looked briefly at Jon. He had a bright light in his eye. He looked determinate to stay right here and see the end of it. She agreed with the thought. This couldn't continue as it was.
But still... they could stay here for days before one fo them finally decided to talk... And she really didn't want to stay here for entire days... Like not at all!
After almost half an hour of stubborn silence, Benjen talked again.
"We have all day. Believe me, you will talk."
"I don't want to talk to her." finally said, Sansa.
"Well my dear you don't have a choice," responded Benjen without batting an eyelash.
Kyria admired his calm. He looked unflappable. How did he do that? She was bored to tears! She wanted to scream or shake them like a tree, anything to have some kind of reaction. He had the patience of a Septon! Did he learn this up to the Wall? It that so she didn't dare imagine what would become of him once Jon actually went there.
"Come on talk," said Kyria.
She certainly didn't have the character necessary to wait for them to decide when they finally will start to address the issue.
"Why are you always so annoying?" asked Sansa with a quiet voice after another long twenty minutes.
"Me? You are the more annoying here! You always do everything you can to spoil my fun!"
"I spoil your fun? You spoil literally everything you touch! Every time! You're a disaster!"
"You're a spoiled little lady so annoyingly boring you make me want to cry sometimes! With your stupid song about south and knight and fair ladies! You're so- so stupid!"
"I'm not! You are! Playing at being a boy! You're not a boy, you're a Lady! It shames me to be your sister! Why can't you be more like Kyria! You're always acting like you're better than every one of us when you play with your stupid wooden swords and tales of adventure. Why didn't you have to do your duty like everyone! Just because you look more like Father and everyone says you're the living image of aunt Lyanna you think you can do anything you want. Well, you can't!"
That quickly went out of control… Kyria shared an alarmed look with Jon. She'd never guessed their animosity ran that deep. There was a serious problem here. And even worse, she was put in the middle of it! She didn't want to have any part with this mess thank you very much!
"At least I'm not an empty head little girl who believed in fairy tails! You don't even think when Septa Mordane or Mother tell you of those stupid songs. How can you only think they're real!? It's just a bunch of stupid tales that mothers tell to their daughters so they don't complain when they're married off! I don't want to spend my life obeying blindly to a stupid lord and carry children after children until my death! I want to be free to do what I want!"
Good gods…
"Why would you have the right to be free when other women in our situations don't have any choice in the matter?! Why would you be different?"
"At least I try to do something! I don't stay here crying on my poor fate. I want to be free to choose what I want to do! If I become like Aunt Lyanna then so be it! At least I'll be free!"
"Aunt Lyanna was killed because she couldn't stop being stupidly stubborn and attract attention to herself! Maybe if you live the same fate you'll learn to do what you are supposed to do!"
"Sansa!"
Arya kept getting redden and redden. Both girls had tears in their eyes. Sansa glanced at Kyria's reproachful gaze. She lowered her head, and bit her lip.
"I HATE YOU! I hate you, you stupid- Stupid SANSA!" screamed Arya, jumping out of her chair.
Fat tears ran down her cheeks, as she took the path through the door. Jon grabs her arms before she could reach it.
"No! Let me go! Let me go! I don't want to see her stupid face anymore! I hate her! I hate her!"
"Why? What have I ever done to you? Why do you keep trying to ruin my life every chance you get? What did I do to you?!" screamed Sansa, her eyes just as moistly as Arya's.
"You hate me! You're always criticizing me, mocking me! You never want to play with me or talk to me! You're always with your stupid friends doing you stupid things! You never want to spend time with me!"
Benjen sat straighter in his chair, a light in the corner of his eye.
"You hate me! You ruin everything! Every time! When I try to be nice to you, you mock me! You say I'm stupid!"
"You're never nice to me! You criticize me, I'm always wrong! I don't do anything right! Every time!"
"I was nice to you when I made a dress for you! You ruined it! In a day! Like it was nothing! I spend weeks on this dress!"
" I- I said I was sorry! I didn't want to ruin it! I tried to repair it after!"
"You shouldn't have ruined it in the first place. You always do that! Always!"
"That's not true!"
"It is! You spend your entire life-ruining mine!"
"You think I want to? You- You're always so perfect! In everything! Everyone loves you because you're the perfect little Lady and they don't like me because I'm not! And- And I try but it's never enough and you- you and your friends you- Why do you hate me so much!"
Fat tears started to form on the corner of Arya's eyes. Sansa opens her mouth, maybe to respond to her sister's accusation, but the girl didn't let her talk.
"And then- There's one thing where I'm good and you're not! One thing! And you tried to steal it from me! Like you didn't have enough attention to yourself already! It's me who's supposed to be good at men stuff! It's me who's supposed to hang on with them! Not you with your perfect knitting and your perfect dresses! You- You-"
She escaped a sob, visibly unable to restrain her cries anymore. Jon stood up and took her in his arms, as she cries without restraint. Sansa grabbed Kyria's hand, all her body shaking with shock, or was it sadness?
"I- Arya..."
Uncle Benjen made a sign with his head, inviting Sansa to go comfort her sister like she was supposed to do. With trembling hands, Sansa stood up and embraced Arya's sobbing form. Jon politely stood back, worry written all over his face. Kyria concentrated her attention on both her sisters. They were what mattered right now.
The little girl cried a long time in her sister's arms. Sansa opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out. She looked at Kyria once or twice, her big blue eyes full of tears that miraculously didn't fall. Kyria wished she could read her sister's mind. Know what she wanted to say. Unfortunately, she still didn't gain any magical abilities.
After some time, Arya's cries softened, only small hiccups occasionally escaping her throat. She didn't let go of Sansa. Kyria ignored her own tears rolling on her cheek, and waited patiently for one of them to talk again.
Finally, after a couple of more failures, Sansa found her words.
"I'm Sorry Arya. I'm sorry I've- I'm- I've been mean to you. I am your sister, your older sister and I failed you. I wasn't supposed to hurt you. It was- I never knew how to talk to you. I- You're you're so different from me. You- I think I- I envied you."
Arya's noises stopped abruptly. She made a strangled sound and gripped Sansa's handle. Kyria's heart stopped in her chest.
"All my life I- I tried to be good like Mother told me too. I tried to satisfy everyone's expectations. I tried so hard… Every time I wanted to play or to do something else than what was asked to me I- I thought I didn't have the right to do it. I- I wanted to be good. I tried to make Mother and Father proud of me. I tried to be perfect, like- like in the song. Everyone always loves perfect ladies in the songs. Everyone is always happy at the end of the stories and I thought- If I do the same thing, act the same way than those beautiful ladies in the song, then I may- I may have the same ending. With a handsome Lord and beautiful life." Sansa's eyes shined for a second, and Kyria blinked.
Behind this childish face, there was something else.
Porcelain, Ivory, Steel.
Kyria blinked, and it disappeared.
"But you, you don't have to try to be loved. Everyone loves you. Everyone always says you're a True, with wolf blood, like aunt Lyanna was before you. You always do what you want, was it girl stuff or boy stuff. And everyone loves you none-less." Sansa's voice broke at the end.
Arya shacked her head, but her sister didn't let her talk. She pushed her cheek against the girl's brown hair.
"It's so- so unfair. You can do everything you want, no one loves you less for it. Me, I have to stick to a ton of rules. You're a lady like me. But you never let anyone taught you those rules people kept repeating me again and again. Why did I have to do that, while you could be free of everything? It's not fair."
Sansa stopped talking for a moment. A small sob came out of her. Her shoulder shacked slightly. She was crying too.
"I- I was so jealous. But I could- I couldn't complain. I tried once, to explain it to mother. But Mother reminded me of our luck, to be born where we are, surrounded by a family as wonderful as ours."
Gods Mother…
"I couldn't complain. But it was still not fair! Why me and not you? Why could you do everything you wanted?! Why was I so- so different! So so sorry...I- I only wanted to be good! I wanted to be what was wanted from me- to make Mother proud. I- I think I made you pay… and- I'm sorry for that. But I- I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have made you pay for my own situation. I'm so sorry I made you think I didn't love you..." she sobs in Arya's hair.
"Wh- Why did you do it? With the bow?" asked Arya with a tiny voice.
Kyria could barely hear her.
"I- When I shot it. It felt- I thought I could finally share something with you all. With Robb and- Bran and- and Kyria and Rickon and- you. I thought we could- we could be sisters.
"And then I ruined it." added the little girl, almost bitterly.
"You both were angry and bitter," said Benjen.
They jumped and looked at him. They looked surprised like they had completely forgotten he was here.
Benjen sighed, a long trait of air passing through his nose, and stood up, his eyes glued to the girls. Kyria took a step closer, not even realizing she was standing for some time already.
"You two are sisters. Even though you're both as different as the Sun and the Moon, you're still are sisters. This is something that will never change, no matter the path you'll take in your respective lives."
Their uncle extends a hand for Kyria to take. The older girl complied with curiosity.
He guides her closer to her sisters and put her hand on theirs.
" I don't have the pleasure to spend that much time with all of you. I'm not here often, but from what I know, I can tell you something really important. The three of you are three part of a puzzle. The strength, the brain, the look. You three could be the perfect woman." Each girl blushed at their uncle's declaration, recognizing the compliment for what it was. "You don't have to fight for it. Embrace it. Learn from it, learn from each other. Just like your brothers can learn from each other, for every one of their strength could echoing to the weakness of another. That's what it means to be part of a family. That's how you can strengthen your bond as sisters. Do you understand?"
The three girls nodded their head, astonished by their uncle's speech. Kyria wasn't so sure about this puzzle thing, thinking each of her sisters was at least as smart as she was, but she didn't voice it. This was a time for reconciliation, not her own lack of self-esteem.
As uncle Benjen exit the room, she smiled at him. Right now, she couldn't be gladder from his visit.
The time till uncle Benjen and Jon's departure passed quickly. Too quickly for Kyria's taste. Two small weeks after Benjen intervention on her sister's affair, it was time for him and Jon to go to the Wall.
Lady Catelyn wasn't to be found in the courtyard, not that it surprised Kyria that much. She must have already said her goodbyes to her brother in law. Mother didn't want to see her husband's son more than she have to. And seeing her pleased expression as the rest of her family tearfully paid their goodbyes to their dear brother wouldn't help her relationship with her children. That was bad enough that both Robb and Arya clearly resented her and blamed her for their brother's decision. Kyria did too, in some way. She didn't show it as much, but she couldn't help but think her mother wasn't that innocent in all this mess.
It took half an hour for them to separate a crying Rickon from Jon, and ten more minutes to do the same with Bran. Both boys had a really hard time letting their older sibling go. Kyria understood.
Then, Arya gave her handkerchief with the sewed wolf head as a farewell gift. Jon took her in his arms for a long time. Both of them exchanged a few words, but no one could tell exactly what they were saying.
As he let go of her, Kyria caught him looking a long time in Father's eyes, with something so serious it made her shiver. She didn't dare try to guess what this was for.
Robb and Jon's farewell was as awkward as affection between two boys who happen do be brother could be.
"Farewell Snow."
"You two Stark."
They hug, like only man bother to do and Kyria felt her eyes roll into their socket. Boys.
Sansa bow politely. She even smiles to him, offering a courtesy she didn't bother do before. Kyria briefly thought his departure affected her too. Surprisingly.
Kyria could have thought more about it, but now wasn't the time. She had other things to do.
"I'm gonna miss you sister."
"So am I." she responded with a tearful smile.
This was it. He was really going. Kyria's heart was beating hard in her chest. When will she see him again? Not before many years for sure… She took her time looking at him. Trying almost desperately to carve his face in her mind. To remember it the best of her abilities.
Blood on the Snow.
Kyria closed her eyes. The numbness was back. Her heart, and nothing else. Something was different this time, however… Again she was like at the edge of something. As if the tip of her feet was in the void, with the rest of them ready to fall.
But where?
Without thinking, she took him in her arms, holding him as closely as she could.
As the enjoyed this last embrace, many thoughts invade her mind. She couldn't ear, of feeling anything else but Jon's still bony shoulders again her, and the sound of her own heart.
Something was pushing in her mind. Against her teeth.
She didn't even think…
Sand
Snow
Promise me
My son of Ice and Fire.
Her mouth opened before she could even think of what to say. Something needed to be said. Jon...
Jon. Jon. Jon. Jon. Jonjonjonjonjonjon
Jon...
With one hand, she blocked Jon's head against her, her mouth on his ear so only he could hear what she had to say. Words flew through her mouth. She could feel their weight. They run out of her like panicked animals flew an avalanche.
"Listen to me, Jon Snow. There is more in you than you know. You are worth a hundred bastard of the north. Your life is worth a hundred of them. Do you ear me? Never forget that. You, Jon Snow of Winterfell will always be more than what they'll ever think. Do you understand?"
"Kyria what are you-"
She didn't let him finish. She had to be quick, to say everything. She had to.
"Listen to me, Jon Snow. We will see each other again someday." will they? "I know it." did she? How? " You must know it too. No matter what happens, or what you'll hear. We will see each other again. Until then, you have to build your own story. Listen to the Bastard in his father's eyes. Learn from him. Make the name of your own. I want to see more than a crow on the wall. Remember Jon, learn to talk.
Please, Jon, learn to talk. You have to talk to learn to listen."
"What? What are you talking about Kyria-"
"No, listen." she snarled against his ear, her nails scratching his skull, under his hair, almost drawing blood with the strength she pulled in.
She took a deep breath and the words flew out of her mouth again. "Look out for the kiss of fire Jon. They give luck. Look out for her and keep her alive. No matter the cost, Fire means luck. She had to stay alive. If not for you, for the Leaving. Look out for the fire and beware the boy. Beware the boy you'll see in him. You are more than that Jon Snow. Don't let anyone tell you the opposite. I pray that will be enough."
"Kyria I don't understand-"
"You will." Will he?
She didn't think more of it. She couldn't. There was too much inside her head. She didn't think. She kissed his cheek, preventing him from saying anything else, and stayed like that as long as she could.
Then she talked again. And it was her words that came out of her mouth.
"I love you, Jon Snow," she whispered, a cold tear rolling against her cheek, wetting his.
Farewell, brother.
TBC
...So?
Opinions? Good? Bad? Awfull?
What do you think honestly?
As you may have guessed, we won't see Jon for a long time now. I may have already explained it, but I won't change a lot of things at the Wall. And so, everything I will change will be shown in a single chapter later in this book.
So for now no more sweet Jon :(
I'm almost sad that I won't be in Jon's head for a long time! I love writing Jon. I don't know why but it's almost simpler to be in Jon's head than in Kyria's. Which is ridiculous as Kyria is my Original character... But I do tend to make incredibly difficult characters... I mean this one see the future! Come on! It can't beeing called simple! At all!
Anyway, don't hesitate to share your opinion. I'm really curious to know what you think about this. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^"
See ya!