NOTE:
Hi guys!
So, this chapter is one of my favorites so far. For a very obvious reason. I am officially on the plot of the show! That's it, we're there! Here comes the King with our favorite Queen, (or, you know, the one we love to hate) and Jaime and Tyrion and dear Joffrey! Aren't you excited to see him again!? :D
... Yeah me neither. But unfortunately, he has to live for now!
So, I made a few changes of course, from the original plot, and I still didn't read the book so I don't know how inaccurate those changes are...
But anyway, we're getting serious here, so I really hope you'll enjoy this one, and, see you at the end!
Chapter 7: King Robert Baratheon
Sansa
The King! The king was coming! Oh, she couldn't've heard a piece of better news. She was going to meet the royal family! The King, the Queen, and more important the Crown Prince! The prince! Oh, everything was truly perfect now!
Sansa giggled and roll on her fur, under the curious gaze of her darling Lady. Her head was full of dreams, and hopes. She was going to meet the King and the Queen and the Prince! It was as if all of her dreams were coming true in front of her eyes!
All her life Sansa had wished to meet the royal family. She grew up with stories and southern songs of fair ladies and brave knights fighting for justice and honor. And love. The one true love of a knight for his lady. She always wanted to be married to a southern Lord, and evolve in those sophisticated circles just like in one of those songs she loved so much.
For her, the Royal family was the embodiment of all her dreams.
Since she learned the news, her mind couldn't stop wondering about so many things. Will she meet a lot of members of the court? Will the Queen like her? The prince? The King? Will Father and the King...
Oh, she could barely think it, without fainting in joy, but maybe… The crown prince was her age, or so she thought, and Father and the King were the greatest friend who ever exists. Maybe… Maybe the King will ask for her hand for the sake of his son. And so… she would be Queen!
The most powerful woman on the seven kingdoms! Married to the greatest man alive in the Kingdom. The one sits on the Iron Throne…
How wonderful could that be? She couldn't wait for them to arrive. She couldn't help but hope for all of those things.
And, even more important, if her father accepted a betrothed between her and Prince Joffrey, she would finally be away from Winterfell.
She didn't hate this place, it was her home after all. But Winterfell was so… dull. Nothing was interesting for a young girl like her. Apart from the Godswood whom she didn't like that much, and the Glass gardens there weren't many places she could compare to one of the gardens of the south.
There was no big city that closes of Winterfell, except for Wintertown of course, but out of Winter, the town wasn't that busy. Nothing to compare to the half-million of people of Kingslanding.
White Harbor was the busiest town in the North, and Father only brought them here once, when Bran was still a baby. It was so long ago and she had been too small to really enjoy the city. Only Kyria had explored the street, with Jon and Robb.
Kyria…
She knew Kyria felt the same as her about Winterfell. At least sometimes. The older girl didn't know it but she sometimes had this longing gaze. Looking at the line between the forest and the sky, like a part of her wanted to go there.
Before Father's announcement, she liked to see this expression on her sister's face. At least she wasn't the only one who wanted more than what they had.
But now…
Kyria was maybe the only black spot in her perfect vision of the visit of the King. Kyria was older than her. If Father was to accept a betrothal for one of her daughters, it has to be Kyria first. That was a problem.
She liked this new relationship between her and her sisters. Even more so since she took Arya's defense against her friends. She kind of regretted it for a time after that. Jeyne and Beth didn't talk to her for months.
But, then, she could spend a lot more time with Kyria and Arya. For the first time maybe since Arya was born, she felt like she really had two sisters, not just one big sister and a tomboy that took great pleasure at ruining all of her days.
She was glad Uncle Benjen made them talk to each other. She may still not always agree with Arya, but at least now they didn't hate each other. And even better, she could learn something more with her and Kyria. Something new, and somehow exciting.
She was aware that shooting with a bow was not something her mother or Septa would approve. But for once, Sansa wanted to be something else than what they wanted from her. She wanted to be something more than just the proper daughter of Ned Stark. Of course, she was never going to roll around in the mud like Arya or her brothers, but there was nothing wrong at doing something she was good at and sharing it with her sisters. That was what sisters do after all.
But as much as she loved this new development, she yearned for more. She sighed for bright sun and a deep blue sky, for the hot wind of the south, and the beauty of the silk in the ladies' dress. She sighed for the glory of a tourney and the satisfactory weigh of a crown of roses on her head.
She wanted the South her Mother promised her. And a golden Prince to show her his world. And for her to carry his babies, all with golden hair and fair skin. Oh, what a dream it would be. A perfect life.
She loved her sisters and never regretted not being the eldest before now. She liked the idea of being the middle child. She felt like Kyria had many things resting on her shoulders, expectations from other peoples and she didn't want any of that. She already had enough. But still… what a shame to be the second child when a prince was coming so far North. When a betrothal was a possibility between their families.
The girl sighed dreamily, her hand absent-mindedly caressing Lady's thick fur. If only…
Maybe… maybe she still could… After all of the three of them, she was the prettiest. And the more lady-like. More at ease in the art of distinguished women. Maybe the King could make an exception and favor appearance and skills instead of birthright… Maybe she could still be Queen!
Oh, that would be wonderful!
If there was one thing she ever wanted, that was this. Kyria would understand. Of course the will, she's Kyria. All she cares about is her books and hanging around with Robb and the others. She told her herself, Sansa recalled, how she wanted to learn as many things as she could. What use could knowledge benefice a queen of the Seven Kingdom? A Queen gives her King babies. She doesn't need to be able to do anything else, then carrying babies and looking good enough for other ladies to take her as an example.
Queen must surely be the best life one could wish for. What a dream!
Oh if only she was born before Kyria!
Sansa sighed again and Lady licked her cheek, nuzzling in her hair with curiosity.
"We will have a great life Lady, you'll see," she whispered in her sweet wolf ear.
She fell asleep with her head full of dreams of a handsome prince and beautiful babies.
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Sansa's head was still clouded with dreams as she made her way through the couple of days that followed the announcement. She couldn't stop smiling and prepare for this glorious day.
She contemplates stopping her meeting with her sisters to have more time sewing her dresses for the court, but Kyria dissuaded her. She won't have many occasions to shoot once the King here. And as much as it wasn't proper, she loved it very much. So she continued.
The sight of their father on the roof looking at them with pride in his eyes as they were practicing was something she couldn't get enough of. She never felt her father's pride like that before.
But, as the date of the King's arrival came closer, her thought turned back to the Prince and the betrothal that will certainly happen between their families.
She loved Kyria, she truly did. But the idea of her sister having the place she dreamed of all of her life was infuriating to young Sansa.
After two days of inner torment, she decided to talk directly to her sister. Surely Kyria would understand. She would ask her to refuse a betrothal to the Prince if ever Father proposes it to her and let her take her place. Kyria doesn't even want to be queen after all…
Her little schemes eased her mind and she decided to talk to her sister this very day.
Fortunately, Kyria wasn't hard to find. The library was usually the easiest spot. This time didn't disappoint her. Kyria was elegantly seated on her usual chair, her dress carefully displayed around her legs like it was supposed to be. Sansa took a minute to observe her sister's new dress, the very same she knew she had worked on for months now. It wasn't as good as Sansa could have done, but it was still pretty. The shade of blue, lighter than what Kyria used to wear was showing her pretty eyes. Sansa liked it.
"Sansa!" Kyria said happily.
The girl smiled brightly and took the hand her sister gave her.
"What are you doing here? Can I do something for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't come here often, except when you want to talk to whoever is in here."
Sansa felt her cheek blush, without really knowing why.
It was true after all that books were not her favorite pastime.
"I-"
"Oh don't worry sister, this isn't a critic. Merely a point of view." she smiled again. "So, what can I do for you?"
"Well, I wondered if- You know about the King and the court will come here soon. And- I can't help but think about all of this. About the King and- Oh Kyria can you believe it! The Crown prince will be here too! It's like- like in those songs we heard all of our lives! It's- Oh I can't wait!"
Sansa sighed dreamily, her head filled with images of the wonderful time they were going to have. She couldn't wait to see what the prince looked like. He must be handsome, surely. The princes were always handsome. And everybody keeps saying the Queen was the most beautiful woman in the country. In the world even. And the King was known to have been a mighty warrior during the war against the Targaryens, or the Ironmen's rebellion.
Father always had many stories about this time. For Sansa, the prince couldn't be anything else than a great warrior with the beauty of his mother. A perfect prince.
"And the Queen! Oh, Kyria can you imagine the Queen! The most beautiful woman of all the Seven Kingdoms! The woman every other lady is looking at if they want to wear what is best at court. Imagine how wonderful she might be!"
Kyria smiled. If it was a bit tense, the girl didn't notice.
"And why do you need me, Sansa? You seemed to manage pretty well on your own."
"Yes but-"
Sansa sighed again and took a sit. Kyria frowned, surely worried by Sansa's expression.
"I've been wondering. Since, since Father told us about the King's visit. "
"Wondering? About what?"
"About the King. And the prince."
"Yes?"
"He- You know my… All my life sister, I dreamed about the South. About the ladies and the lords, the knights, and the tourneys. And, I can't help but think about it. The court coming here, it's like a dream coming true you know."
"Yes, I know." smiled Kyria.
Sansa could have noticed the slight frown on her sister's forehead, but as she was so focused on what she was trying to do, she missed it.
"Yes, so. I- Father is friend with the King. Had been since he was a boy, and I know- I know both of them to think of the other as brothers. So I thought maybe..." Sansa took a deep breath. "Maybe the king will want to marry his son to one of Father's daughters."
"Indeed." nodded Kyria, apparently not really in the mood to help her sister in her babbling.
"And- Oh, Kyria you're the oldest!" the girl cried, not able to contain her distress anymore. "And- I know it's only proper for the younger sister to marry before the eldest, but I couldn't help- I hoped to ask you if you would mind… if you could let me be the Prince's fiancé instead."
"You want to take my place at the prince's fiancé?"
"Yes!"
"For a proposal that didn't even occur yet?"
"But I'm sure it will come to that sister! How could it be anything else? Father always wanted to unite his family with the Baratheon! And the King feels the same! I'm sure they'll ask. And I-"
Kyria gripped Sansa's hand, stopping her plead immediately. She smiled softly and seemed thoughtful for a minute. Sansa bites back any other thing she might want to say, letting her sister compose herself instead. A part of her couldn't endure those long minutes, but she knew her sister enough to understand that she was thinking carefully every word before pronouncing it.
Some day she'll have to ask her why she felt the need to do something like that. Words were words, no matter how you arranged them in a sentence.
"You see Sansa, it's not that I don't want to do what you ask me to. It's just that… We don't even know if this is what the King is after by coming here with his son. Maybe he's already promised to someone."
"Impossible. He's the crown prince, we would know if he was." responded the girl in a heartbeat.
Kyria smiled.
"True. But Sansa, it does not mean that you will be chosen as the future queen. King Robert is not the prince's only parent. Maybe Queen Cersei has someone else in mind."
The girl turned white, a look of horror on her face. No! It was- no! Could this be…
"D-do you think this is possible? He could- he could..." she didn't end her sentence, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
This couldn't be! What could she do! If the Queen had someone else in mind for her son she couldn't be Queen! This was horrible! Oh, and she had been so impatient! This was a disaster. The biggest disaster that ever occurred in the history of her life. What was she supposed to do now?
"I don't know Sansa." said the redhead, dragging her sister out of her inner torment. " All I say is….don't be so sure about all of that while the court isn't even here yet. We'll see what's happen when the times come."
She was right of course. Just like this discussion they had so long ago. She didn't have any proof of the potential betrothal of the prince. She needed to make her mind. And let other people do the same. Once the Queen and the King will be there, she'll have all the time in the world to show them how good she could be as a wife for their son.
That said… Kyria still hadn't answered her question. None of her plans could be if the prince was betrothed to her sister.
"…But if the King do ask Father, will you let me take your place as the crown's prince fiancé?" she dared ask anyway.
"Sansa..."
"Will you? Please! This is what I've always wanted! My whole life! I've never asked for anything else! It's the dream of my life Kyria, please say yes!"
Kyria sighed and pressed Sansa's hand in her own.
"We'll see Sansa. We'll see..."
The redhead pouted, falling back on her sit, but didn't say anything else on the matter. She knew when a conversation was ended. But she was determined. She would have her sister's word. She'll make sure of it.
After some time, Kyria closes her book and stood up.
"Will you come with me sister?"
"Where?"
"I wish to take Frost outside. Into the woods. You could bring Lady along with us. Even Arya and Nymeria!"
"Oh, what a great idea!" squealed the girl, clapping her hands. "Let's do that. Oh, maybe you could help me learn to mount."
"Mount? Today?"
"Oh, maybe not today, but you could sister."
Kyria smiled.
"Why not."
Sansa didn't wait long to go find her little sister. She couldn't be happier with this new relationship with Arya and Kyria.
Thanks the gods for Uncle Benjen.
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Robb
Happy giggles momentarily caught Robb's attention. One look outside made him smile. His three sisters were giggling, the wolves on their heels, on their way to gods know where. With an amused snort, he saw the big shadow of Greywind following them. Traitor.
Recently they spend a lot of time into the woods. More often than not with a bow and their wolves. Robb often wondered what they did out there. Were they training? It must be so, as they took their bow. Kyria looked particularly pleased with her brand new one, a gift from their Father for her incoming name day. It was still in at least another couple of months, but still, Father gave it to her.
Sometimes, Robb felt like his father was more excited by this new development between the sisters than the sisters themselves. Robb didn't get why. When there was just Arya, he wasn't that fond of his girl doing all of those boy things. Or, at least, he listened to Mother when she has forbidden it.
He still didn't know how mother took all the situation, now that he thought about it. Was she even aware? Maybe that was why they trained into the woods now… To prevent Mother of discovering it and forbid it?
Robb smiled and went back to the book on his desk. Since he knew about Kyria and her gift, he often thought about it. Her lists were a constant in his mind. Worrisome, like a shadow watching him. Waiting for an opportunity to hit. The scenes she described. She never put any names on it, except for Bran, but… there was something in her words that woke him up at night.
He was worried.
He took it as a joke at first, her need to… prepare them, him and Jon. It was fun, in a way, to see his bookworm of a sister almost desperately put their noses in her dusty books. But, then, he had read them again. Those lists of her. He had nightmares about them for a time. He didn't talk about it, of course, it wasn't his place to have fears. He was the older brother, the heir. He couldn't be scared. It was his duty to help his siblings, to support them as much as he could.
But it was also his duty to do as much as he could for his people. So, if his sister with her visions of the future was telling him that learning to manipulate peoples was a way to prepare him for what might come to them, then he listened.
And so, after her show of this dusty little book about manipulation and whatnot, Robb decided to do… extra studies, as he could call it. He brought the book back into his room, and study it.
He discovers that it wasn't that much about manipulation, but more about how to understand people, their intentions and the way you can bring them to go the way you want them to go. Or something like that.
...Well, to be frank, it was about manipulation. But a subtitle kind of it.
Without realizing it, he found himself quite fascinated by the book. It was always about two things. Talking. Listening.
It reminded him about this discussion they had in the library, him, Jon and Kyria.
If you want to talk learn to listen. Or something like that. Was it the opposite? He couldn't remember. According to this book, both things were complimentary.
Robb sighed and rub his forehead.
Hushed noises coming from the corridor momentarily caught his attention. Some handmaiden was talking with animation about the only subject that seemed to interests the Keep those days.
The King.
Robb sighed again and looked back to his window.
He still couldn't shake out this feeling he had as Father broke the news. He still remembers the almost manic glint in Kyria's eyes, the words she whispered as Father talked to them.
He'll ask Father to be the next hand.
At first, he thought it was one of her visions. She sometimes had this tendency to say things like that, out of nowhere. Robb had since learned, if not to ignore them, not to pay that much attention to those times. He knew she couldn't do anything to prevent them, and it wasn't always important to notice them. He was used to it.
But this time was different. It took him a moment to understand that what she said has nothing to do with her visions, and everything to do with logic. For what other reason the King would do the trip all the way to the north?
He knew from Father's stories, that Robert Baratheon had two friend he trusted more than anyone else in this world. Jon Arryn who basically raised him, and Ned Stark. With Jon Arryn dead, that leaved Father. And from what he understood of those southern politics, he certainly didn't make many friends at KingsLanding which mean Father was his only choice.
He didn't like that. Not at all. He didn't want to be a Lord. Not yet. He didn't want to watch Kyria's visions coming true. He didn't want the King to come here. He didn't want anything to change. But it was already too late. Things had changed. Jon wasn't there anymore. And the King was coming.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
This was quickly becoming his new mantra.
And who knows! Kyria had those visions for a reason. Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe they'll succeed in preventing it.
He could still hope.
Besides, what else could he do? He was his father's heir, his place was in Winterfell, within his people, and his family. If Father ended up going South, he'll have to stay behind.
There must always be a Stark at Winterfell. He knew he had to be this Stark. But at least he wasn't alone. Kyria would help him. He also knew that.
With a sight, the young man turned his attention to the book on his desk. There was a good side in all of this. At least he discovered that books were not as boring as he had thought during his numerous lessons with Maester Luwin. He even quite enjoyed a few of them recently. The ones about War were fascinating. He didn't know why but he was bathing in this specific knowledge with the eagerness of a pig in the mud. There were so many things, tactics, battle plans… so many ways to play with your adversary's expectations. It was like a game.
Things more political were less interesting, in his humble opinion. But it had its moments too.
With a little huff, Robb rubs his forehead one last time and went back to his studies. He read for about another hour or so when a knock on the door stopped him.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing Stark? All alone in your room, like a moody little lord?" said the voice of his friend. "Are you reading? By the Gods, it's worse than I thought!"
"Theon!" he said, a smile on his face. "At least I can read. Can you say the same you illiterate moron?"
The Greyjoy laughed, face bright and lighted by the sun. How the man could always laugh, Robb often wondered.
"Come on Stark, your father wants to talk to you."
"Why?"
"Something about the King's arrival."
Robb immediately lost his smile. A thing Theon didn't miss.
"What is it with the face? What is the matter? Scared of the king? Or the prince maybe? I heard he's pretty enough to have all those southern girls by his feet."
"So what?"
"So, those poor girls obviously need to meet some fresh meat. A northern boy or two maybe."
"Or a prick from the Iron island I guess."
Theon laughed again and went to the lord's solar, Robb by his heels. There, they found Lady Catelyn, looking carefully at the massive beast Shaggydog had become, all draped around the small frame of little Rickon. The boy looked in heaven, hidden in his pet's fur.
"Robb, where are your sisters?" asked the lady, once her son was inside the room.
Robb shrugged not that excited to blow up his sister's secret. Lord Stark sighed and with a nod asked Theon to go back and look for the little ladies. Bran smiled brightly at his brother and pat the empty space next to him. Robb took place.
"What is it, Father?"
"Not until everyone is here." responded the man, a hand holding his wife's in a way that made Robb wonder.
Was Father worried about something?
Robb's mind wandered in a thousand directions for a moment. He rubbed his forehead and took it upon himself to wait for father's announcement. He knew the man enough not to ask any other question. He wouldn't answer anyway.
A couple of minutes later, the three girls came to the room, four massive direwolves behind them. Greywind came to him, tail wiggling behind him and looking as innocent as a giant wolf could. Robb tried to frown. He failed.
Lady Catelyn frowned, at the disheveled sight of her three daughters.
"Where have you been again?"
"Into the woods Mother. We wanted to go for a walk," respond Kyria without missing a beat.
She even pulls the trick to discretely hide Sansa's guilty face with her body, her smile still as bright and innocent. Damn, she was good.
It was disturbing to see how good she was at lying...
Lady Catelyn didn't seem to buy it also. Too bad. Two-point for the effort so.
"There's something you're not telling me, young ladies. What is it?" she asked her eyes going from face to face.
"Nothing." squeaked Sansa.
Well, she had some progress to make if she want to lie properly…
Also, Robb wasn't sure a Sansa with a good ability at lying was a good idea...
"We'll talk about this another time" cut Lord Stark, his voice calm and firm. "We are here for a reason."
Lady Catelyn didn't respond, however, everything in her face talked for her. She didn't like it and still had not dropped the subject. Robb hoped she'll end up forgetting about it. There was little luck for this to happen, but he could still hope. Mother was stubborn.
"We received this morning a message from Moat Callin. The King passed them last week."
All Stark children exchanged a glance. Robb noticed Kyria's expression, her eyes bright fixed on Frost's head. He regrets not being next to her if only to ask what was happening in this mind of hers. She looked strange every time the King or the court was mentioned. Robb wanted to know why.
He didn't like being left out of the loop. It was his noisy side.
Not for the first time, Robb wondered thought of how alone she must feel with her visions. As supportive as he tried to be, he still couldn't see what she saw.
"What does it mean?" asked Bran to their father.
"It means the King will be here in one week. And as so, we have to prepare for it." responded lady Catelyn, her eyes back on the six Direwolves all lying down on the floor.
Robb felt a pang of apprehension growing inside him. This was it. The last times they had to share before the most enormous change their lives ever met.
Again, he looked at his sister. This time he found her gaze already on him. She smiled at him. Maybe she was trying to reassure him. It didn't work. He wasn't reassured one bit. Her smile was tense. There was a hardness in her eyes that felt wrong to him. A tension in her shoulder that didn't sit well with his own apprehension.
He was anxious. Why did things have to change?
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The week passed quickly. Even more so as he absolutely didn't want it to pass. If it had been up to his lone will, this week would have never ended. Or even better, he would have been able to travel back to the time when there was no King arriving. When Jon was still with them and Kyria was still cheerful and innocent. Before she fell from that tree.
But of course, like it was always the case when one didn't want a situation to come, the time took great pleasure to go as quickly as it could.
The evening before the infamous Day, Robb made a decision. He went out of his room, all clean shaved and well prepared for the King -or the Queen according to Theon...- and knock to his sister's door. It was late and he was almost certain that Kyria was asleep, but he needed to talk to her. He needed… he wasn't even sure what but he needed to talk to Kyria. A childish part of him
"Yes?"
Inside the room, Frost was displayed in front of the fire, lazily enjoying the heat of the flames. He was softly snorting, his big head in his equally big paws. Surprisingly, he wasn't alone, as Summer had his giant head on his brother's back, looking as asleep as he could without really sleeping. His soft eyes blinked lazily at Robb's sight. He snorted, yawned and moved his head in a more comfortable position against the warm fur of his brother. Frost's tail moved slowly.
Robb bites back a laugh. He couldn't say why but there was always something funny with those giant puppies. He didn't get how those giant killers could be so adorably comfy and homely. Like giant lapdogs.
On the bed, Kyria held a distressed-looking Bran, who keep grabbing her nightshirt with his little fist.
The sight of his little brother distress erases Robb's worries as easily as snapping fingers.
"Bran?" he asked.
The boy looked at him tears on the verge of his eyes.
"I had a nightmare..."
"What happened? " observed the oldest Stark.
Kyria patted the boy's head without a word. Something in her eyes didn't ease Robb.
"I dreamed of a big raven. With three eyes. He was scary."
Kyria's hand stopped. For an instant, she looked truly distressed. Robb bites his lip and contains his reaction. This wasn't reassuring at all… And reminded him a bit much of someone else's nightmares. As Robb was panicking internally, Kyria resumed her petting on Bran's head and pull further the furs around the boy.
"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" she asked with a gentle voice.
Bran nodded without voicing it, a stubborn line on his mouth. He didn't want to admit out loud his weakness. Proud little boy thought Robb fondly.
"What do you think about the King? What will happen when he'll be there?" asked the boy, already half-buried in the fur of his sister's bed.
"I don't know" lie Kyria, her eyes on Robb. "But I know one thing."
Her eyes lost in the wall, absent. She's still petting her brother's hair, almost mechanically. Then she looked at Bran again, her face blank.
"I'd rather have you walk like a wolf than fly like a bird little brother. Try to remember that, when you dream about crows, will you?"
Bran nodded, looking lost and confused. Robb felt quite the same. Maybe he should go back to his room. Bran didn't look ready to leave, and he wasn't sure that Kyria wanted to talk about her abilities with the boy so close to them.
"Did you want something brother?" she asked, finally looking at him.
Robb hesitated for a minute, then finally smiled letting go. He could still talk to her later. At least he hoped so.
"It doesn't matter. I'll let you rest."
"All right then. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Kyria."
Robb went back to bed, his head filled with thought. Feeling suddenly incredibly stupid for this oh so useful trip, he took his sweet time to fell asleep. As he finally let go of his troubled mind, he had a last thought for Jon, the lucky bastard who didn't have to deal with all of this shit.
It may be the first time Robb envied his brother's statue. Being a bastard sounded less complicated… And he didn't have to deal with Kings and court. In Robb's humble opinion, it was worth freezing his ass to the Wall for the rest of his life.
At least a little.
Lucky Jon.
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Kyria
This was it. The D. day. Draped in a dark blue dress, one of the fancier she owned, Kyria was posted between a proper Robb and a pretty Sansa in the courtyard surrounded by her family and the entire House Stark, guard and servant included, she finally was going to face the court for the first time. And the King.
Her heart keeps beating faster and faster in her chest. Robb next to her was a welcomed comfort, but even he with all his older brother glory couldn't stop her hand from shaking.
"Where is Arya? Kyria? Where is your sister?" asked lady Catelyn while the rumbling of the horses could be heard from behind the walls of Winterfell.
The question snapped Kyria out of her thought. She looked at her mother, then her sister. There was indeed a little dark head missing. She and Sansa exchanged a perplexed glance.
"I don't know," she responded, looking back at her mother.
Lady Catelyn frowned and looked again around them. Her eyes crossed those of her husband, who didn't look worried by his youngest daughter's disappearance.
Mother found her answer several minutes later when Arya came out of nowhere, an ironed helmet on her head. Kyria repressed a laughed at the disappoint frown her sister shown, as Father took the helmet from her head, and pass it to Ser Rodrik. Only Mother didn't seem amused by her sister's antic.
"Move!" snapped Arya to her younger brother, as she took her place between him and Sansa.
"Be kind." whispered back Sansa.
Kyria smiled. Arya humphed, but didn't respond. She didn't have the time anyway, already the first royal guards was making his way to the yard.
The vision of the first guard, all golden armor and white cloak stopped Kyria's heart for a second. This was it. A curious mix of impatience and apprehension, spread through her chest.
Kyria looked at the Kingsguards, at the imposing figure of the Hound, the giant men hidden in heavy metal plates, his helmet the face of a dog. Then in front of him, Kyria found the gaze of the crown Prince. Joffrey Baratheon.
Seeing him moved something inside her chest. He was beautiful. She couldn't deny it. His hair, as blond as the sun, his eyes piercing green. A beautiful boy with something glinting in his eyes that caught Kyria's attention more efficiently than any trait of his face. There was something here. Kyria almost frowned.
Then, as she was thinking confusingly about this strange feeling moving inside her chest like a snake, the crown prince looked at her. Kyria almost stepped back. Yes, there was something in this gaze. Something almost frightening. Kyria gulped without really realizing it. Don't look at me she thought, please don't look at me. She kept thinking as hard as she could. Somehow, he heard her. He looked past her, to her right. Dismissing her presence. She almost sighed in relief. Thanks the gods.
Next to her, Robb's head turned harshly. A hot wave of anger pulsed out of him. Kyria blinked and looked at him. His eyes were hard and unhappy. She followed her gaze and found at its end Sansa's dreamy eyes. The girl kept blinking prettily, batting her eyelashes more efficiently than any word on the state of Sansa's mind, or heart.
Oh boy...
Sansa. Kyria almost closed her eyes. She felt Robb move again next to her, but what could he have done? He saw her, and she saw him. Kyria knew Sansa enough to guess she'll find him appealing. He was golden, from the south, and pretty. Like a vision directly found out of her songs. It was a lost cause the moment Father told them about the King visit. Still, she had hoped…
She couldn't even put her finger on what bothered her that much. Everything was troubled in her mind. If she could control herself, she would have been relieved to feel all of this confusion. Her visions were bright behind her eyes, images of dreams she had for years. She couldn't have asked for better proof. She saw this pretty face before. Saw it without seeing.
Joffrey Baratheon had been in her dreams, she could have sworn it. She didn't know which one of her vision had him in it, but she knew this feeling. She had seen this figure before.
But she didn't control her mind. Everything was troubled and confused inside her. And a fear she didn't know she possessed was grabbing her guts like the claws of a beast, silent and perfidious. Kyria suddenly regretted her previous eagerness at the idea of this visit. She had been so impatient at the idea of proof, of a living representation of all those dreams. Of an occasion to change this.
But now, as she was confusingly thinking of all these things, as the outrageous wheelhouse was making its way to the courtyard, Kyria regretted her wishes. She started to share Robb's fear of change. She didn't want it.
Go away she thought suddenly, go away go away go away.
Go away!
But they didn't, of course. The wheelhouse was big and full of royal blood. The Queen Mother and her two other children. Then, right behind it, another Kingsguard, quickly followed by the reason behind all this turmoil. The King.
Robert Baratheon, first of his name.
As fat as a man can be, while still able to mount a horse. His hair and beard were as dark as the mane of his horse. A massive beast impressive and without a doubt strong enough to support a King as… voluminous as he was. His eyes might be blue, but it was difficult to see from where she was, as his face looked all puff up, his eyes small on the red flesh. Was it by fat or by wine, Kyria didn't know, but she could say for sure, this face wasn't the face of the man her father talked about when he spoke of his friend. At least not the one of the Rebellion.
As she looked at this face, Kyria didn't feel fear. She felt pity. Pity for this man clearly unhappy in his role as King of the Seven Kingdoms. There wasn't any reason to change a man, as handsome and strong and glorious as Robert Baratheon used to be, according to Father's tales, to this fat shadow, puffed by his own bitterness, in addition to wine.
That said, Kyria didn't have the luxury of observing him that much while he came to the courtyard. As the protocol ordered, every member of the Stark household kneel in front of their King, eyes on the floor. They couldn't look directly as the King until he said so. As so, Kyria soon faced the floor, While the king walked to them. For a couple of minutes, no one talked. Kyria shared a look with Robb, who was already looking at her. He looked as nervous as she was.
Soon, Father stood again, and with him, the rest of them.
"Your Grace." greet the Lord.
"You got Fat." responded the King.
There was a second of silence, then both men laughed, happily embracing the other with the complicity of brothers. Then the king starts to greet all of them. Mother first, to whom he gave a hug. Mother looked as embarrassed as the King was at ease. Robb snorted next to her.
The King didn't seem to care about the lady's obvious unease and rub Rickon's mop of hair, to the delight of the boy who giggles happily.
Then he turned his attention to Robb, next to Father.
"You, boy must be Robb."
"Your Grace." bowed Robb.
"What a good lad!" boomed the King, delighted.
Soon his attention was on her. Kyria bowed too like she learned to do. She straightened and looked at him in the eyes.
Dragonspawn!
The fat man lay in a large bed, his breath harsh and difficult, his eyes gazing away.
"I hope, for my last instants, to be a better father then I have been a king. I've made a lot of mistakes Ned..."
A horse, a laugh, a drink.
A choc.
"The King is dead."
Kyria blinked, as she saw the King again. She felt a tug on her cape and didn't have to look to know who it was. Did someone else notice something?
She looked at the King again. He didn't seem to have noticed anything. He was looking at her intensely, his eyes searching in her trait. Then his face broke in a wide smile that made his eyes almost disappear behind his fat cheeks.
"And what have we here? Twins?"
Kyria felt the blush on her cheek and denied it in a small voice. She didn't say anything else, her mother was already speaking.
"This is Kyria, your Grace," said Catelyn behind them. "Our oldest daughter. She is younger than Robb for about two years."
"Not twins then?"
"No your grace, but they do look a lot alike."
"I can see that. Interesting. Well, you're pretty enough I suppose."
"Thank you," she responded, not knowing what else to say at that.
The King laugh, looked at her one last time, then passed to Sansa. He complimented her on her beauty with a loud voice that made Kyria wince, then asked for Arya's name. The look on his face was strange. Once he passed Bran and complimented his muscles, he asked Father to go to the Crypt and pay his respect.
"We've been traveling for months, my love. Surely the dead can wait." said a voice to her left.
Immediately, Kyria's hand grabbed Robb's. Her mind blanked for a second, then thousand of images overflown her mind.
Cersei Cersei Cersei
Cersei Lannister
Lannister… The Queen Mother. Mad. Madmad Mad. Mad Mad Mad Mad Lioness
Everyone who isn't us it the enemy.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle grown.
Kill him. No! Oh, I changed my mind.
Perfect aren't you? Little dove.
Dove dove dove dove dove dove
Little Dove.
Power. Power power power power power POWER!
Power is Power.
No mercy. That's why they are gods.
You're perfect Little dove
Love your children. For this, a mother has no choice.
My children. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.
Your best weapon is between your legs.
You never love anything like you love your first child.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Should I wear the armor?
MINE.
Kyria had to blink several time to completely chase away the visions. Robb's grip was strong in her hand, strong enough to anchor her to the ground, and the present time. She took a discrete breath and looked back at the Queen. Thankfully she didn't seem to have noticed her discomfort and was discussing with their Mother.
"Is everything alright Kyria?" whispered Sansa to her right.
"Yes, Sansa don't worry."
"Are you sure? You look pale..."
"Yes, I'm alright. I- I didn't eat this morning that is all," said Kyria without looking at her.
She didn't dare stop on what just happened. She could only be sure that the Queen was in her visions. And from what she just experienced, she was important.
Kyria looked at the Queen again. There was something in her eyes. Something fierce that sends cold chills on Kyria's back. She reminded her of a lioness in her den. Ready to attack at the first menace.
"Where is the imp?" asked Arya, looking around with eagerness.
"Arya, not that loud," whispered Sansa.
But it was too late. Already the Queen was walking away, toward a tall figure, draped in a white cloak and golden armor. Kyria blinked again.
The things I do for love.
I swore a vow. I intend to keep that vow.
The same thing he was saying for hours.
Burn them all.
Keep that vow for me, will you?
All my life I only loved one woman. All my life.
Do it.
I don't believe you.
She's a monster. And so am I.
Do it.
Honour. Am I?
Am I?
Jaime Lannister.
Kyria blinked again. She didn't dare think about these images either. She needed to be alone to understand that. Looking at the Queen going to her brother moved something on the back of Kyria's mind. She blinked it away again. She didn't want to see that.
"Where is our brother? Find the little beast." the Queen ordered her voice cold and sharp.
Like a knife in the flesh.
Ser Jaime nodded and climb back on his horse without a word, a smile on his face.
The Queen came back to their Mother, just as lady Catelyn was letting them go from their position. Rickon didn't wait to run to Sansa and babble excitingly about the King's hand in his hair.
Kyria smiled for a second, then looked at Robb.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I- I'll explain it to you later. It's… I don't know, it's a lot to take."
Robb nod and grabbed her hand again. She offered him a small smile.
"We will take you to your chambers, your grace. I assume, with a journey so long, you must need your rest." said the lady of the keep, a polite smile on her face.
Before anyone could say anything else, a great noise burst from the back of the yard. The kennels.
"What is it?" asked archly the prince, behind his mother.
"Ser Rodrik" called Lady Catelyn.
The tall men nodded and went to see what was happening. Kyria frowned.
"The wolves," said Robb next to her.
"Oh damn..." she said under her breath.
Oh, that couldn't end well...
As they guessed, the wolves came in the yard, the all pack of giant beast, slow and majestic. Their similar golden eyes were shining against the grey of the Keep. They were gorgeous.
"What is this?!" asked the Queen, her voice more pressing.
"Is that Direwolves?" questioned another voice behind her.
A lean man came to their view, wearing heavy fur around his covered neck, and precious silk under it. He had a curious little bird made of silver to secure the said cape around him. His face was long, made longer by the little beard on his chin. Two small blue eyes were carefully looking at everywhere around him. Calculating small blue eyes.
Trust me. Trust me.
I know you want it.
Trust me. Trust me.
Make a mistake. You'll do it. I can wait. Always waiting. Waiting.
Sometimes when I try to understand a person's motives, I play a little game. I assume the worst.
The worst. The worst. How could it be worse? How can I play with the worst?
Trust me. I want you to trust me. Let me stab you in the back.
Kyria blinked again multiple times, chasing away other visions, this time with exasperation. When would this masquerade stop?! Already she could feel the pain build itself behind her eyes. This was way more difficult than anything she ever experienced in her life. Her brows frowned, she observed the man. His gaze was drinking the line of Kyria's mother like a dying man looking for water.
"Petyr!" said Catelyn happily.
Baelish a part of her brain snared.
"Lady Catelyn," he responded bowing with a smile on his fine lips.
"Frost. To me," whispered Kyria without looking away from the court. From the man.
Her sibling did the same, each one calling for his wolf. Like the piece of a tale, the direwolves came to their masters. One after the other. As if they wanted to give their guests the time to contemplate their magnificence. Or realize the danger they could be in if they dare cross them.
But, as Frost made his way to his mistress's, she thought that maybe it was the wolves that wanted to analyze those new peoples.
First came her Frost, of course. Tall and imposing, calm and proud, his legs as white as Ghost's fur and his back almost as dark as Shaggy's. Then, right under his shadow, came Lady. The smallest of them all, her fur light, almost like silver, and yellow eyes soft and warm like honey. Then, Shaggydog jumped to his little master, hiding him entirely with his imposing black figure. He showed his teeth for a minute, to a Lannister soldier, too close for his liking apparently. Then, Nymeria, also taller than her mistress, her head low, as if ready to run. She was large, almost as large as Greywind. Summer behind her, silent in his light brown was almost missed. As quiet and calm than his master.
Greywing came last, majestic. The biggest of them all. Almost taller than Robb when his head was up. Massive. Kyria was sure of it, if Robb wanted it, he could have mounted the wolf like a horse.
And what a vision it must be.
"Would you care to explain what those beast are for?" asked the Queen, her voice tense.
She didn't like the wolves. Was she afraid? Kyria wondered if she was.
She should be.
"Those wolves are my children's… companions" explained Catelyn unsure. "They have them since the things are nothing but pups."
"How so?" asked Baelish, "I thought the Direwolves were only seen behind the wall."
"Not all of them," responded Robb petting proudly Greywind massive back.
"As I see..." responded pensively the master of coin.
"What is this?" asked suddenly the loud voice of the king.
The sudden sound scared Shaggy, who barked loudly in response, teeth bared, menacing.
"Shaggy." reprimanded Robb, echoing his own wolf low growl.
The massive black beast lowered a little, his ears against his skull and his tail between his legs. He didn't dare look Robb in the eyes. Kyria smiled.
They trained them well apparently.
Father behind the King didn't seem to notice the scene. He looked disturbed. Kyria frown, noticing his running gaze that keeps jumping between her and Sansa.
She didn't like what she was guessing. Her own eyes went to Joffrey. The boy was still looking at the wolves, an ugly frown on his lips.
Worm lips.
"My children's pet." responded Father, looking at his friend. "they weren't supposed to be here."
"They wanted to greet our guest Father," said Kyria, using the sweetest voice she could get.
She was clever enough not to draw much attention to herself. Let them underestimate the little northern girl.
It seemed like it was enough to make laugh the king.
"What a strange country is this place!" he boomed.
He made some of his men laugh, and his son sneers like a cat. The conversation was over.
The handmaiden guides the court to their chambers and Lady Catelyn starts an animated conversation with Petyr Baelish. Kyria kept her gaze away from the man. She noticed the little Myrcella Baratheon looking curiously at the wolves.
The girl looked remarkably like her mother, just like Sansa looked like Lady Catelyn. But she was young and seemed as innocent and sweet as one can be. But Kyria wasn't sure it reflected her character. After all, her mother was just as beautiful. But from what she gets through the few words she granted them, Kyria didn't have many hopes.
Soon, the court was retired in their respective rooms and Kyria found her brother in the library, looking as worried as before.
"What happened earlier?"
"I had visions. Like, in plural," she said quickly, walking back and forth around the table.
"What? Why? What- What triggers them? Is there even something able to trigger them?"
"I'm not sure… I think it does. Each time I had one of them while awake… there was the person concerned next to me, or I was looking at something related to the vision so… maybe..."
"Who was it?"
"The Queen, Ser Jaime, and Baelish," she answered.
Robb frowned and asked what she saw. She explained it to the best of her abilities. Like always it was harder to explain than it was to experience them. Oh, how many times she wished to be able to bring her brothers inside her head.
But then, there were even more times when she was grateful she couldn't do so such a thing. As lonely as she felt sometimes, no one deserved to see things like that.
Robb stayed silent for a moment after that. Then he brought back her lists of what she saw in her vision, and start looking at it with the abandon of a man on a mission.
"Look, there," he said after a time.
She sat next to him and looked. It was a line from one of her dream's description.
"The things we do for love?"
"Yes, you said you… saw that didn't you? Today I mean."
"I did, with Jaime Lannister." suddenly she get it. " Do you think I dreamed about him before?"
"Well, from what I get it sounds like it."
They keep looking for about an hour, and, to her surprise, found other similarities. In the end, they determinate that Kyria had at least dreamed of Jaime Lannister and Petyr Baelish. As for the why, they still had no idea. But Kyria couldn't have been more relieved.
As Robb closed the heavy leather holder in where they had put everything even slightly related to her visions, Kyria felt a tear roll on her cheek.
Robb noticed it immediately, of course.
"Kyria?" he asked. "Why are you crying? Is everything alright?"
"I just-" she took a breath, hoping for her tears to stop falling. They didn't. "I thought I was losing my mind. For so long. It was- I've wanted some proof you know. Anything, to show me I wasn't insane." she tried to explain.
Robb hushed her and held a tissue in front of her face, awkwardly looking away. He didn't like to see people cry. She took it and quickly wipe away the moist on her eyes. Gods, if her mother ever found her eyes red, Kyria won't hear the end of it. She couldn't be seen with puffy eyes the night of the King's feast. She was a Stark daughter she didn't get to cry in front of royalty.
"Are you going to be alright tonight?"
"I'm not that weak, thank you, brother."
"No, but I don't want you to fall on your ass in front of the King."
She lightly slaps his arm, frowning her nose at his face. He flipped it with his finger and exit the room, his strong voice rumbling recommendation she took great care of ignoring.
Once alone she looked back at the place where they hide their holder. She wasn't insane. She truly was seeing things. True things.
How the knowledge of her own sanity could feel that worrisome?
Well, she shouldn't be so sure about sanity. She was dreaming of a river of blood after all. And often singing or humming the same song over again.
Wasn't it a sign of madness?
TBC