Note: Hi guys!
I hope you've all enjoyed the last chapter ^^. Or at least as much as you could with the... events.
Again I'm sorry, but it had to be done... As I said, it's a lesson for everyone Kyria like the reader. It means to show that even though Kyria can see the future, she's not a goddess and she can't control everything. She can make mistakes too, and people can still get hurt. Even more so because she is seeing the future. In a way, her mistakes are worse than anyone else. Because she's supposed to know better.
Except she's human. So she can't be perfect.
I also wanted to thank you all for sharing your opinion on this, and for reading it anyway x). I really appreciated it, it means a lot to me to see that what I do isn't completely dull or pointless.
This chapter is the last one in Winterfell. We are leaving the North to the South and it's also the last one we'll saw all the family reunited for a long long time! (if ever... niark!)
So we're going to Kingslanding, and we all know what happens there ;). Now, what am I going to change?
We'll see!
Chapter 9: And so my journey begins
Year 298 after the Conquest, Third month, eleventh Day.
Robb
This was a nightmare.
There was no other explanation. How could things had gone so wrong in only a couple of hours? How could everything turn suddenly so bad?
He didn't know what to do. What to think of all of it. By the gods what a mess it was…
Father wasn't talking. He hadn't talked since the fire ended. He sat in the great hall and looked at the fire in the great fireplace. He looked and he didn't talk. He didn't move, either. He seemed as solemn as always, if not for the emptiness of his eyes, reflecting the light of the fire.
Rickon, the poor little boy, didn't understand what was happening around him. He stayed stick to his older brother's leg all the evening, begging for answers. Crying. And Robb didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say to a boy so young, in a situation such as this one.
As for Bran… Gods Bran…
The Maester and a couple of handmaidens were locked inside the Maester Tower with him for hours now. No one heard anything about his state since Hodor brought him there, in the middle of the afternoon. Robb didn't even know if he was-
He couldn't think about it. The mere idea made him want tho throw up.
Gods how everything could have gone so wrong…
And the girls… his poor sisters. Sansa had cried for hours, wrapped in his arms. Arya, once the shock passed, had been in a fury, angry at everything and everyone. At Father, for not saying anything, at the servant for not watching more closely the barns, for not preventing the fire, against Bran for climbing again even though Mother had forbidden it, and punished him for not keeping his word, against mother who hadn't left the Maester Tower since Bran had been brought there. Angry at the King she found responsible for all this mess. She didn't know how to deal with the situation.
She didn't know how to deal with Bran being…
Oh, and who was he kidding: He had no idea of how to deal with this mess!
And Kyria…
Kyria didn't say a thing since he brought her back from the barns. She didn't cry like she did while the fire was still raging, she didn't talk after her scream of Bran's name, as she was desperately trying to free herself from his grip. As she tried to run to the fire, to Bran, to whatever she was trying to do. Kyria seemed completely empty of any kind of emotion, reaction… of life even if not for her pulse and breath, still steady.
Robb put her on her bed, and she didn't move. Sansa and Arya wrapped themselves around her and she didn't move. Frost and Lady and Nymeria wrapped themselves around her and she didn't move. She closed her eyes and stayed there. Without a word.
Robb didn't know what to do. He thought of Bran, of his father, his sisters, his mother. He thought about them and he felt lost. He thought of this morning when everything was still fine. He thought of the days before, where they were all enjoying the gracious presence of their King, and its court when he and Bran were observing the knight training on the courtyard. Where his little brother was excitingly telling him about the day before, when Ser Jaime Lannister, known as the best swordsman of all the Seven Kingdom had talked to him, told him about the day Ser Arthur Dayne made him a knight.
He thought about that day, the one of the Hunt, and the joy on his sister's face as she told him of her afternoon.
The thing is Robb, I prevented it… I sopped him from seeing anything.
She looked so proud back then. Proud for having done something she didn't think possible.
Yet, here they were, a couple of days later, in the middle of the worst nightmare he ever experienced. Him, alone, in his room, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do now. And Kyria… lifeless in her bed, wrapped under her sisters and wolves like a living blanket.
Who did they end up in this mess? He wondered again and again.
But he still had no answers.
"Robb?"
He looked up, rubbing the salt out of his face.
"Theon." he greeted.
"looking gloomy here," he said looking around the room.
"It's night Greyjoy," he responded.
"Wasn't talking about the room, or outside. I was talking about your face, and the air around you." he snorted.
"Well pardon me if I am not up for a good laugh right now." he snared.
Theon frowned.
"What happened?" he asked. "Someone is dead or something?"
"Watch your tongue."
Finally, the fool lost his smile.
"What happened Robb?"
The heir looked down. He rubbed his face and gathered his thought. He was so tired. If only he could wake up in his bed as if nothing happened.
If only nothing had happened...
"There was a fire, on one of the bairns," he said. "The entire thing broke down, all that was inside was burned." he paused, and looked away, a foolish way to hold back his tears. "Bran… Bran was climbing the wall next to the bairn. He- The flames..."
"Did he..." asked Theon, not daring ending his sentence.
"I don't know." Robb's voice broke in the middle of the word. His tears fell.
He bites back a sob, and hide his face inside his hand, too ashamed to show it to the world. After a minute or two, a hand gently grab his shoulder, pressing it lightly.
For once, Theon didn't say a thing. Robb was grateful for that. He wept silently for a couple of minutes, thank his friend, then asked him to leave him alone. He needed to sleep, he needed to be ready for the morrow.
Things might be very hard then…
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Things were hard. Of course, they were. Nothing magically disappear with the next morning. It was not a nightmare.
Everything was still gloom, tense and heavy, the faces closed and the laughter muted. The King didn't like this new atmosphere in the Keep, so far from the joyous feast that welcomed him only a fortnight prior.
It didn't take long for him to decide to leave. He was still taking Father with him, along with Sansa and Arya as it had been decided before the fire. Robb had four days to get used to his father's absence, and the new responsibilities that were falling on his back.
For a couple of hours, he hoped to see his mother coming out of the Maester's Tower, to help him maybe, or to support her children in their sorrow. But she didn't come. And so, Robb had to take care of everything by himself.
He spends his day trying to fit in his Father's shoes. With difficulties, he must admit. Theon stayed close to him, the gods bless him. By the end of the afternoon, Sansa and Arya appeared briefly, glued to each other's side. They followed Septa Mordane for her lessons, and he even caught them talking to the princess Myrcella, the girl as sweet as she had been since her arrival.
Kyria didn't appear that day. Robb renounced his hope of seeing her after Sansa and Arya's appearance. He performed his duties as best as he could. He took care of the house, the servant, the people. He did his duty as Heir of Winterfell. It was strange to do it without his parent's watchful gazes. He felt alone, and suddenly incredibly young, in front of those people asking for his help and counsel. A green boy like no others.
He didn't sleep well that night.
On the morrow, in the middle of their fast, Kyria finally appeared. She came into the Hall, her face was stern and tired. She didn't seem to have slept well. Also, there was something in her eyes. Something not looking like sadness. She didn't look at anyone, other than Father. She went right to him, close to his ear. Robb couldn't hear what was said, but both of them soon disappeared behind the heavy doors.
A part of him was dying to know what was said between them. However, he couldn't just go and ask them, or spy on their discussion. For one, he had still his duties to perform. And it would do no good for him to test his Father's patience. As calm as Ned Stark usually was, this was not a usual situation, with Bran's still in the care of their Maester Luwin, and their Mother locked up in the Maester's Tower, his father may be more susceptible, than what everyone was used to. More inclined to anger.
So Robb bites his tongue and swallows back his curiosity. He could still ask Kyria later.
Finally, to his utter relief, Father came to help him somewhere along the afternoon. His face was still long, but Robb couldn't be more relieved. He really didn't felt well in his role of Lord of Winterfell while his father was still present in the Keep. In fact, he didn't feel well in the role at all. But he knew better than to complain.
The man, sat next to Robb, with a hand on his shoulder. Robb smiled at him. The hand on his shoulder didn't leave. Robb's smile disappears.
"Father?" Robb asked.
Ned sighed and looked at him with tired eyes.
"Maester Luwin gave us news of Bran's state." he started.
Robb's heart stopped in his chest. Finally! He could finally know if his little brother was going to live or not.
"How is he? Is he gonna..." pressed the heir.
Father nodded.
"He'll live."
"Oh thank the gods..." sighed the young men, falling back on his chair.
He could have laughed, right now. His little brother was going to live. He was alright…
"He won't be."
Robb blinked. What?
"What?"
"Bran is not going to be alright for a long time..." he said, his voice slow and reasoning like inside a cave.
"What do you mean Father?"
"The fire… the fire eats the meat of his leg. A lot of it."
Robb blinked, digesting the new. Again, what? Did that- What did that mean?
"But… he'll be alright?" he corrected himself before Father could. "I mean he'll be...he'll live?"
"He will, but… he'll never walk again. Not like he did before. He'll never run, or climb anymore..." explained Father.
Robb heard him, but his mind had trouble getting the meaning.
"He'll be a cripple?" he finally asked.
Father nodded.
"He'll… he won't be a knight then..." add Robb awkwardly.
That was all his poor mind could get. Bran… Bran couldn't be a knight now… He couldn't even walk properly again… if at all.
Robb didn't know what to say how to react. He didn't know what to do with this…
"What- what will happen to him then?" he asked.
He could barely recognize his voice. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't possible. Things couldn't go so wrong… How could they arrive here?
"He didn't wake up yet. He'll have to stay in the Tower for a couple of days, just the time for the burn to… to heal." said Father. "Your mother is with him."
Robb nodded. It took him a couple of minutes before he could understand what was said.
"I will leave with the court in three days." he continued. "your sisters are coming with me."
Robb nodded again absentmindedly. Then his brain caught up with what was just said.
"Wait, what do you mean my sisters, Kyria too?"
"Aye. She'll be needed for Sansa's wedding. Or at least to prepare her for it."
"But- She's not married..."
"Aye, but she's older. And wise beyond her age. Your sister will need her in the viper nest that's the Capital,"
"But Father..."
"It's no discussion. Besides, she insisted."
That stopped Robb. Why?
Why would she want to go with them?
Father left the room shortly after, living a confused Robb all to his thoughts.
Why would she want to go there?
Oh, he was stupid. Of course, he knew why.
Maybe I can also change something else…
Head rolling on the floor, right to my feet. And I knew the face.
She was going to try it. She was stubborn enough to try to prevent whatever might happen. If it ever happens.
But she knew something was about to happen to Bran. And she did try to save him, even in the flames. He had to restrain her physically to prevent her to run right into the fire. He could still feel the strength he had to put to restrain her, his own fear, of hurting her or seeing her hurting herself.
Her scream, agonizing in his ears like someone just pull off one of her limbs.
He knew she was stubborn enough to try again. She didn't like to give up. She never did. But what could she do against them? The gods themselves seemed determined to prove her wrong. The first thing she changed ended up in almost the same way as in her visions. If not worse. Bran was still crippled. What could she do against them?
He didn't like that. He didn't like that at all. Besides, without her here, who would help him take his duty? She was needed here…
He couldn't let her leave home. He couldn't allow it. If things were going to be as bad as her dreams, he couldn't lose all his sisters. He couldn't lose her and her incredible brain. She was so much better at this than what he could ever be.
He was walking silently in the corridors, his head full of things when a small hand grabbed his.
"Robb? Do you have news about Bran?" asked the soft voice of his little sister.
Blue eyes found blue. Sansa was looking at him, pleading, all her face sad and worried. Robb felt his heart squeeze inside his chest. Oh, Sansa… Why did she have to ask this to him?
He couldn't resist his little sisters, that was one of Theon's favorite things to joke with, but it was true. He couldn't when he was a boy and Sansa was looking at him with those big blue eyes asking to play with her, or when Arya wanted to play with a wooden sword like the other boys, or when Kyria asked him to stay a bit longer and read with her. Those three with their big round eyes full of hope and need of their big brother were his weaknesses.
And there again, he couldn't say no to Sansa. Not when she was looking at him like this. Even more so when he knew she was going to leave in a couple of days and he wouldn't see her before a long long time.
If ever…
Sansa was the worst of the three. Kyria and Arya… they had teeth. They bite if they needed too. But Sansa was sweet and soft. A sweet little girl believing in song and fairy tales. He couldn't say no to his sweet little sister. Never.
"Oh, Sansa..." he sighed, pulling her in his arms.
She buried her face against his neck, sniffing a little bit. Robb prayed the old gods and the news for her sister not to cry. He couldn't stand when she was crying.
"Bran is..." he started. It was hard thinking of him. Bran…
"Is he alright?" she asked, her voice muffled by his tunic.
"He's… he'll live. But he's been hurt. A lot."
"How bad?"
"His leg… one of his legs had been burned. Severely."
She made a little noise Robb refused to call a sob. He hushed her still, and rocked her a little in his arms, like a baby.
"It's gonna be alright Sansa. He'll live. That's what matters the most."
Her head moved against him, but she didn't let go. Robb didn't complain. She was so young, and she was leaving. If she wanted to hug her big brother for hours, he wasn't going to say no.
So they stayed like that a moment.
"But-" she wiped her nose and standoff of him. " He'll be alright?"
"I hope so..." he responded.
She sighed.
"Everything will be alright," he said more forcefully.
She nodded and smiled one last time.
"I have to go pack my things for… for"
"I know," he said.
Robb kissed his sister's forehead, noticing how tall she was becoming, and let her go.
Everything will be alright he thought for himself.
But he didn't sound convinced, even inside his head. How could he be?
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He found Kyria later in the day. She was in her room. She was packing. His eyes crossed Frost's. The beast was on the floor, his giant head on his just as giant paws. He was looking at him closely. It was always strange for him to have a wolf so big looking at him like that. With Greywind it was different. Greywind was his. His and his alone.
"What are you doing?" he asked behind her.
She jumped and looked at him.
"Robb! What are you doing snicking behind me like that?"
"I'm not snicking I knocked. It's not my fault you didn't hear me," he said looking closely at her face.
Her features were drawn, her eyes tired. It was more obvious up close. Did she sleep last night? She looked worn out. But there was something familiar in her eyes. In the way, her jaw was contracted. She looked determinate. He knew that expression. That was going to be hard…
She sighed and went back to her things.
"You're packing?" he asked again.
She nodded without looking at him. He waited, but she didn't say anything else. Robb took a step further in her room.
"You're leaving then?" he asked. "With the court?"
She stopped.
"I have too."
"Why?" he asked. "Without Father, and with Mother… busy elsewhere… Kyria I will need you with me. I can't do that alone."
She looked at him.
"You'll do very well on your own."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Why do you think I spend endless hours forcing you to read all those books?"
He frowned.
"You knew? You knew Father was-"
"I dreamed about him lightened by the sun once. A bright, warm sun. Something we don't see often in the North. If ever."
That was true… But still, a part of him felt betrayed. She prepared him to take his Father's place.
"Did you intend to leave too?"
"I thought I might have too… If I- If I want to have any chance to prevent-"
"Prevent? You still think you can do that? After Bran?"
Her shoulder tensed immediately. Robb almost bites his lips. Wrong choice of words.
"I saved Bran from a fallen brother. I did it," she said coldly. "What happened after… I was arrogant and stupid. I shouldn't have released my attention. I should have been more careful."
"Should- Kyria you can't control every single thing happening around you!"
"it's not what I want," she responded just as harshly. "But I can't spend my entire life dreaming of people dying without doing anything Robb. I can't- Even if it's possible that I-" she stopped and dropped her gaze.
"Kyria, if things go wrong South…"
"I have to try Robb!" she cut him with a cry.
He shut up.
"I know that with Bran… That I may have made things worse"
"Kyria-"
"Don't tell me it's not true!" she cut him again. "I know that I prevent his fall! He would have only lost his legs! But now-" she blinked, her eyes glossy "Now he'll be in pain all his life."
"Kyria it's not your fault. It was an accident..."
"But be warned me!" she sobbed. "He said I couldn't prevent it and I- I thought I could! And now I only made it worse!"
Robb hushed her, pulling her close to him in an attempt to calm her tears. He didn't understand completely those dreams, he may never will. But he knew the place they took in her life. He could still remember the screams at night, back when she didn't understand what happened.
She didn't scream anymore after their talk with Old Nan. But he knew, deep down that her dreams didn't stop whatsoever. She just… hide it.
"You can't control everything Kyria. We are not in a book or a game where everything is written with a sense and a meaning. People make choices. You can't control people's will, no matter how hard you may want it."
"But I- I can do something..." she wept. "I… That's why I have to go South. Even if I end up useless, I'd rather die in the south trying to save us all than stay here one more year, slowly losing my mind seeing things happening without doing anything."
"Kyria-"
"And even so. Arya and Sansa are going. And they have no idea of the things that might go wrong. I have to try… I have to protect them."
"Aye I get the feeling," he said with a smile. "But you understand that I may want to protect you too?"
She nodded without looking at him.
"I have to try Robb. I will not let the South or those visions destroy me, or my family. I'd rather die."
There was a fever in her eyes. A light, something almost maniac, that seemed colder than any wind he ever experienced in his life. He knew he couldn't change her mind. She was decided, and nothing could convince her of anything else.
But still, he couldn't say he liked it. He was afraid. Of so many things. His mind keeps going back to those papers hidden in the library, known only to him, her, and Jon. With her gone, there was just him. He wasn't prepared to face such a thing.
"I don't like it Kyria," he said.
"I know." she nodded, her eyes softened when falling on his face. " But it has to be me. You are the heir and Jon is sworn to the Wall. I am the only one, out of the three of us, who can hope to do something." she explained, with some logic even Robb didn't hear. He knew that look. It was not that she was forced. She wanted to leave. "I have to leave."
"No," he said. "You can't fool me, sister. You want to."
She frowned and opened her mouth. But this time he didn't let her talk.
"No, don't try to deny it. I know you better than anyone on this keep. I know how you think. I know you want to leave. You wanted that for months now. Since Jon left. And I also know I can't change your mind." he said defeated. "But you have to promise me, something sister. Be careful. This won't be Winterfell, and if I learned something out of all those books you forced on me, it's that down there, you can't trust words of honor, like we do here. And I don't know what I'd do if something happens to you. You or the girls. Or even Father."
"Oh I know what you'll do," she said with a sad smile. "I know you too brother. You'll do what your damned wolf blood command you to. You'll start a war."
He snorted. He might do that indeed. Without her wise councils, he very well might ask for blood the first occasion he'll found.
Both of them shared a smile, accomplice in their shared stubbornness.
"I know," she said again, taking his hand in hers. And gods since when her hands were that small? "that there is a big chance for things to go very wrong very quickly. If it happens...if you do go to war, promise me something, Robb."
"What?"
"Well… a couple of things." she shrugged tilting her head. Of course, there were multiple things. Greedy sister. "First, do not think you're better commander if you command alone. Remember that book I showed Jon before he left: if you want to be listened, learn to talk. If you want to-"
"-talk, learn to listen. If so, you must ask the right question." he ends up for her. "I know Kyria I read the book."
She smiled again. She looked proud. It made him snort. Something passed in her eyes, a light he didn't understand. When she talked again, something in her voice made him listen.
"Then how about this: Someday when you want to understand a person's motive, play a game."
"A game?"
She nodded. "assume the worse."
"What? Why?"
"So you're not surprised if he does it," she responded.
The light was back in her eyes. Cold and harsh and shining like the sun on the snow.
"Ask yourself this question often brother: what is the worst reason for this person to say that to me? What is the worst reason for him to do what he does?"
"I don't see the appeal..." he frowned. "it'll only make me into a paranoid fool."
"Or a wise one. I'm not saying you have to bully him into telling him his worse reasons. But… ask yourself that. What is the worst he could do?" she explained.
He understood then.
"It's like we keep saying. Hope for the best."
"Prepare for the worst." she ended up with him.
Kyria hugs him close to her. He couldn't see her eyes, but the thing in her voice kept his attention sharp.
"And, more important Robb," she said her voice low against his shoulder. Almost a whisper. " When you'll find yourself… tempted, remember one thing."
"What? Tempted?"
She ignored him, gripping his arms more firmly. He almost winces when one of her nails attacked his skin. Her hands were shaking.
"Love is the death of duty," she said cryptically. "Keep your word brother, and don't let them hurt you anywhere else than on a battlefield. People come first. Your word comes first. Before anything else. Even you." she said.
"What do you mean?"
"I- please remember that," she said, frowning at nothing. "I hope I'm wrong and everything will be fine, but in case… remember that."
"Alright, I'll try..."
"Don't try Robb," she said with this same voice.
He left her soon after that, still confused with her strange behavior. He shouldn't be surprised. She was often strange after all. That had something to do with her vision he guessed.
But, still…
He didn't sleep well that night. Or the night after…
He tried his best to take his Father's place, ruling the keep to the best of his ability, ignoring the stupid Prince who seemed to take great pleasure at mocking him.
"Do you even know how to rule a keep Robb Stark?" sneered the annoying prick. "Or are you too stupid to understand even the basics of it?"
A soldier laughed behind him. Robb had to glare the Stark man next to him, to prevent him from reacting. He wasn't far from doing so himself.
"I know enough not to be bothered by you Prince Joffrey." he had answered that day.
A little boy like him couldn't even start to hurt his feelings. He didn't say it out loud, Kyria's lessons and his own lectures preventing him from angering the heir of the Iron Throne, but he thought it none less.
Besides, one look at the boy's "training" had put a smile on his face for a good hour.
What a prick.
He didn't see much of Kyria before their leave. Until the last night. As he was walking back to his chambers in the family wing of the keep, he saw her, at the very end of a corridor, quietly snicking in the night.
Being the comprehensive big brother he was, he followed her.
To his surprise, she went right into the crypt, a single candle slowly burning at the end of her arm. He found her in the middle of the statues, looking silently at the faces forever carved in the stone.
"Kyria?" he asked.
She turned a pair of glossy eyes at him, her lips trembling with a repressed sob. Robb act on instinct. He caught her into his arms, and start to rock back and forth, one of his hands pushing her face into his neck, as the first sob escaped her.
"Shh, it's alright Kyria, it's alright..." he hushed silently.
She didn't talk. He didn't ask. But he saw her eyes, following the line of the newest tombs, to the empty space next to it. He could guess easily the train of her thought. But he didn't talk.
He didn't have too.
He brought her back to her room after that. Caring her like a child all the way through the family wing. If a couple of drops fell on her hair as he put her under her furs, he could still convince himself it was the snow, melting from his hair.
No one was going to tell on him anyway.
As he stood up, Robb exchanges a long look with the giant wolf, silently watching from a corner of the room. Again, he didn't talk. But a part of him hoped the beast understood him still.
They were smarter than most would think after all.
He didn't sleep at all that last night… His sisters sob still fresh in his ears. He hated to hear them cry.
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Kyria
Five days after Bran's... injury, the deal was sealed. They were ready to go. Finally, according to the King. And the Queen. And several members of the court.
And they said the Northmen were barbaric and rude...
The Stark's belongings were packed in a cart within a couple of servants were installed. The wolves were ready too, obediently closed to their feet, observing the agitation with the attention of hawks on a prey.
Lady Catelyn had already said her goodbyes to her daughters and Kyria took ten good minutes to detach herself from Rickon. She couldn't say if he was the one who didn't let go, or if it was her.
A part of her didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay and take care of her family. Of Bran still asleep in his room.
Bran…
No. No, she couldn't do that. She couldn't.
She couldn't let herself think about her brother. The simple thought of Bran alone in his bed, hurt and asleep made her eyes sting. She couldn't spend all of her time crying about it. As much as she wished she could.
She had Sansa and Arya and Father to think about now. She couldn't give them up.
Bad things were happening, she could have bet her head on it. Bad things were happening or were about to happen and she didn't want to leave her sisters vulnerable. What she said to Robb was true on this matter.
But she couldn't deny it, this wasn't her main reason.
Since… since Bran, she thought a lot. About what happened, or how she could have done differently… What she concludes from all of it was simple. Having those dreams must be for a reason. This couldn't be only to show her what was about to happen to her world so she can watch it happen again.
No, no it must mean something else. She had to believe it.
She was more determined than ever now in her quest. She made a mistake with Bran. She thought she could play gods despise the warning her dreams obviously took great care of giving her. She was told she couldn't prevent Bran's fall. And when she did, they proved her wrong by doing something even worse to her baby brother. She couldn't let that happen again.
Her dreams shown her a lot of things. Most of them she still don't understand. But some she does. Like for her Father.
She knew something might happen to him in Kingslanding. Well, in South in general. What she had to do now was try to prevent it.
She was determinate to save her father, and with him, the rest of her family.
She was scared. Terrified in fact after what happened to Bran, but she couldn't let things happen without at least trying. Not trying would be like abandoning her family. She couldn't do that.
So, a strong line on her shoulders, she hugged her mother, then brother. Once in Robb's embrace, she hesitated.
Just like with Jon, or that night when Robb came to her in her room, her lips moved before her brain.
"We know no King, but the King in the North whose name is Stark." her voice said.
Robb's grip on her arms tighten, but with one push from her elbow, she freed herself, smiled at him, something tensed mimicking an expression she didn't feel like producing now. Her own heartbeat was deafening her as she made her way to the cart.
We know no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark.
Those words, pronounced by her own voice but unknown to her, haunted her as she took one last look to her Home, it's towers, the roofs, and the high walls.
The warm feeling of home, always familiar when she looked at it wasn't enough to appease her this time. Fresh tears made their way to the corner of her eyes. Tears she defended herself to pour. She closed her eyes, and summon her memories. The young face of Rickon, the love in her mother's eyes, Robb's heartfelt laugh, Jon's always sad Smile. The warm yellow eyes of their wolves, together in front of the fire of the great hall. Reunited in a giant pile of fur Rickon loved so much to jump right in.
And Bran...
She thought of everything she could. Gathering it close to her heart. As close as possible.
Everything.
"It's strange..." said Sansa next to her.
"What?"
"To think I may never come back to this place… Or at least not as a Stark."
Kyria's heart squeezed inside her chest. She swallowed back the rock in her throat. She looked at Sansa's profile, her face lightened by the sun, in an expression so hopeful, Kyria had to bite her lip to hold back her words.
"Let's go! We aren't staying here to see your Winter coming Stark!" boomed the King from the top of the file.
Arya's little hand gripped hers. Kyria tried to smile. The small girl didn't seem bothered by the forced air on her face.
"What do you think the capital look like?"
"Nothing like home, I suppose."
Obviously.
"The prince says the Red Keep is the most wonderful place in the world!" pipped Sansa from her spot, next to their Septa. Her eyes were huge and full of light.
She was suspiciously quick in her joy. Was she truly that happy to leave home? To leave Mother, and Rickon and-
To leave?
Kyria's eyes followed Sansa's look. She found the slim silhouette of the prince. Of course…
"Why is your face so twisted?" asked Arya next to her.
"It's nothing, Arya."
Nothing...
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The first few days of travel, nothing of importance happened. Kyria spends most of her time with her sisters. Not unlike back home.
Septa Mordane was delighted to bring the three of them out of their homeland, and the barbaric way of life that came with it. Finally, she could mold them in the true ladies she was dreaming of since Kyria's birth at least.
Arya wasn't fond of the concept.
Sansa however, was really interested in Septa's wisdom. It wasn't hard to guess why. The longing looks she kept sending to the ladies who accompanied the Queen and her children. They did look elegant with their complicated hairstyles and their soft dresses. They were quite fascinating to look at in a way. She could observe them for hours without understanding how in the seven hells they were able to twist their hair that way and more impressive, to force them to stay that way! While traveling! In a wheelhouse even!
That was magic. This couldn't be anything else.
She even addressed the subject with her sisters one evening. It didn't help Sansa's mood.
"I think your hair looks way better than any of theirs," said Arya in some kind of conclusion.
Sansa blinked a couple of times, not unlike an owl. Then she blushed a bright scarlet. It was always strange to see her face take such a color, with the red of her hair. But Kyria didn't mention it. She did have red hair too after all...
"I- Thank you Arya..." she mumbled confusedly.
The little Stark shrugged and they dropped the subject.
Though Kyria did found her sisters quietly talking early the next morning, Sansa thoroughly brushing Arya's hair, a peaceful expression on her face. She looked like Mother then, and the sight made Kyria miss her home.
It didn't last of course. A couple of days later, as she was peacefully walking along with the always greener land they discovered, she found Sansa, hidden in Lady's back, crying her eyes out.
"I don't get it!" she wept, as Kyria took her in her arms. "Why do they hate me so much! I- I only want to-"
"Shh, it's alright Sansa, it's alright." shushed Kyria, a hand against her sister's forehead.
"I just want them to love me." she wept in her neck, her voice broken with despair only known by little children who think their world is ending.
There was this innocence in her eyes, something so pure, so… alien to her sister. Kyria didn't remember being this innocent in her life. Something else her fall had taken from her she supposed.
"And why would you have to change for that?" had asked back Kyria after long minutes of an endless sob. "you're perfect as you are Sansa and if they do not like it then it is their loss."
The girl had blushed at the compliment. It could have been pretty if not for the ugly red around hear eyes, consequences of her weeps. The silent hug that Arya gave her made her smile even more. Kyria liked that sight.
She could have liked it even better if she knew from where did that child come from.
She seemed to develop this strange habit to...materialize herself from virtually nowhere.
"Where in the seven hells do you come from?" she asked that day.
"I was… exploring." shrugged the girl, the perfect image of innocence.
She couldn't say why, but it made her laugh. Sansa graciously offered them a smile.
It was a beautiful day.
Sansa didn't leave her sister's side after that. But she did ignore the giggle of the other ladies with the presence of a queen. Or, at least she tried her best. As the girl was making her way to their Septa, Kyria took notice of the Queen Mother's long glance at her sister. There was interest in the back of those beautiful green eyes. It raised Kyria's suspicions immediately.
She could have tried to understand this interest better, if not for the Queen's Oldest cub.
It took Kyria approximately one hour to forge her opinion on the boy. He was an ass. A royal monstrous pain in the ass. Gargantuan proportions. Oh, how she liked to use that word if only to describe the prick.
Rhm. Anyway.
He was an ass. One like she never saw before. And that was saying something. He was petty, arrogant, spoiled like the worst rotten fruit she ever saw in her life and worst of all, convinced he could do everything he wanted. Because his father was King. Because he was the Crown prince.
Some spiteful part of her brain keeps whispering the need of the boy to learn his History better. After all, the King's title never protected its owner against death.
Or conspirators.
That was a very dangerous train of thought. She knew it of course. The Queen Mother looked to be a fierce defender of her children. More ravenous than any Kingsguard from the few things Kyria was able to observe. And even so, the Lannister were a powerful family, attached to their own. She wasn't a fool and knew a lonely little girl couldn't do a thing against the crown prince without angering his delicate mother, or his glorified Grandfather. The Old Lion himself. Fortunately, no one yet discovered the ability to read minds. As so, she was safe, as long as she didn't talk it out loud.
It didn't take long either for the spoiled prince to take notice of their wolves. She saw him looking at them more and more as the days passed.
The boy couldn't be blamed. The change of environment, the constant movement of the royal party and the weather, warmer and warmer with each day were as many disturbing factors for their faithful companions.
They grew more nervous with each day. Staying close to each other, or to them, they always seemed on their guards, agitated, almost aggressive to those brave enough to come closer. It was difficult to manage. Tiring too.
Kyria suspected the growing heat around them was the most difficult thing to endure. Their wolves were of the north. Their mother came from behind the wall. And as such, their furs were thick and warm. Perfect for the North.
Not so much for those new lands, they were discovering.
And they were huge.
As so, the Stark daughter's companions were gathering a lot of attention. From everyone around them. Including the crown prince. There was something here that reminded Kyria of the way a child was looking at a toy. In her mind, Tommen's story was still fresh and she could guess from the look of almost anger on the boy's eyes, he had a rather tumultuous relationship with animals.
Or any other living creatures, if she could refer to his relationship with his sworn shield.
The boy was stupid and arrogant, sure of his right and the power his father's name was holding. A true little shit.
But a little shit with a menacing mother, and an even more menacing family name. That she couldn't deny.
"Mother loves us very much!" had blushed little prince Tommen one day when the discussion turned on it.
It was a sunny day, and the scene was perfect, all five of them on a soft blanket, talking with animation about anything they could think of. It would have been perfect like many other days could have. But with the little princelings, came the Kingsguard, and more often than not, the Queen mother herself, never far from them, in all her menacing glory.
The look in this woman's eyes was unfitting for Kyria. There was something… dangerous in her.
"Is she always watching over you?" she had asked distractedly.
The little princess had nodded, hesitantly.
"Very often. Sometimes she leaves us alone with Septa. Or the Kingsguard. She likes to spend all her time with Joffrey thought,"
Somehow, it didn't help Kyria drop her attention from the boy.
Kyria watched, as they went through the neck, to the green land of her mother's family. She watched as the boy grew impatient in tandem with the heat of the weather. The less fur they wore, the more annoying he became. Oh, most of the time he seemed just fine, particularly when Sansa wasn't far from him. But Kyria watched. She saw him snap at his guards, or anyone else. His siblings, the soldiers. His remaining uncle, when the smaller one left them for his discovery of the greatest creation of mankind. Even his horse. That one had been funny to witness.
She watched almost all the time, waiting for something to prove her growing opinion of the boy. Until that day, by the river.
She was enjoying the clear water of the trident, dreaming of rubies hidden into the grass, memories of a battle known of them all. Arya was half convinced to just drop her dress and go swim in the thing in the hope to find them when it happened.
"STUPID BEAST!" screamed a quite recognizable voice.
Both sisters exchange a surprised glance, all thought of treasures hunting forgotten in their mind.
"USELESS THING!" screamed the voice again. There was a noise with it. Short harsh. Then a whimper. "You should bow to me! Like everyone else! How dare you resist your better?!"
Another noise followed the voice. Arya looked at Kyria, realization in her eyes.
"Is that the Prince?" she asked.
"I think so..." answered the oldest sister.
Another loud whine soon followed. Kyria's heart almost stopped. She knew that sound. She held her breath and followed it, praying she was wrong.
Kill the wolf and get a pet dog for your girl for Gods sake Ned!
Kyria blinked away the voice and walked quicker. Her hand was gripping Arya's strongly. Maybe too strongly. But she couldn't help herself. The urge to arrive to the source of the voice was too strong. It felt familiar. But this time, no previous warning was going to stop her. No, no that won't happen, not in her watch. This time nothing could stop her to act.
"Kyria!" called Arya behind her.
She didn't turn back. Arya's hand scratched hers. But the girl didn't talk again. She didn't have time.
Right behind a couple of bushes, they found the crown Prince, his shiny sword out of his belt, agitating the thing close to a familiar wolf's back. The poor thing was backed against a tree, teeth barely showing and tail between her legs. A few drops of blood were falling from one of her flanks.
Kyria saw red.
"LADY!" she screamed.
The wolf whimpered in her direction, her eyes big and shiny. Pleading.
"What do you want you? Go away!" snared the boy an ugly grin deforming his face.
"Lady, to me girl." the smile on her lips was forced, but she still tried her best to reassure the poor creature.
"I said go! Obey your Prince you stupid woman!" squeaked the boy.
But the wolf was already making her way to Kyria, who welcomed her with a scratch behind her ears and a good girl well deserved. The boy was lucky Lady was the softest of all her pack. Not unlike her mistress. No wolf was allowed to hurt a human without their master's permission. They had been raised like that and they knew what to do. However, they were still allowed to defend themselves if needed. In a case like the one she just witnessed, any wolf other than Lady would have ripped the boy out like a piece of paper. For one second, she wished it happened.
"Good girl Lady..." she hushed again.
The sweet she-wolf whined one last time and shyly licked her hand. Kyria felt a little hand grip the back of her skirt, then, and a strong breath behind her. Arya. Kyria looked up again. The prince was raging purple in the face and furious. Then, she thought of the Queen and her devotion to her son. What to do now? The boy was not going to let go that easily. Gods...
"How dare you disobey me?! I am your Prince! I'll sit on the Iron Throne after my Father! You will pay for that you stupid- northern bitch!"
Her first instinct in this situation would have been to snap back at the boy, and for one second she almost did it. But then, she thought better of it. She thought of the Queen again, and her oaf of a husband. No, she had to be clever. More than him at least.
Deep breath Kyria, deep breath. Anger is never the solution, don't lose yourself.
"And what did this poor beast even do to you my prince?" she asked between her teeth.
His face took another shade of red. For an instant, Kyria was certain he might explode. Or inflame himself… Or both.
Now that was something she would have loved to see.
He opened his mouth once, then again, without a word, before finally finding back his ability to use his tongue.
"I-you The beast attacked me! I defend myself! I would have killed the monster if not for you stupid bitch!"
"Liar!" accused Arya.
With a tug on the girl's arm, Kyria silenced her. Now was not the time for her to be strong-willed.
"Shut up! I never lie! Your beast is a savage monster who attacked me! I'll have it killed for it!"
"This can't be true my Prince," responded Kyria still as calmly as possible. "Our wolves are trained not to attacked humans if we don't order them so. Or if they are not defending themselves."
"Are you accusing me?! How dare you talk-"
"Besides," she cut him. "Lady is the sweetest of our wolves. She wouldn't have attacked you. Not unless you hurt her mistress."
"Enough! You can't accuse me like that, you filthy northern bitch! You are nothing compared to me!"
Of that, she doubted greatly.
"I'm not accusing anyone, my prince. But if you did try to hurt Lady without any reason, you should watch your back."
"Are you threatining me?! What are you, stupid? You'll be killed before dawn! I am the Prince! Better, I'll have you killed for this!"
"Don't you dare threaten my sister!" ordered Arya behind her.
Kyria pulled her arm again, shutting her up. If only she could let her deal with this without intervening. Kyria knew she meant well, but she wasn't helping at all.
"Do not talk to me wolf bitch!" spat the boy.
As if things weren't bad enough, the boy turned his sword on them, looking between Kyria and Arya. Mechanically, Kyria tried to step back, pulling Arya behind her. But Lady, still frightened, was close to her legs. Too close for her to move correctly.
"I should kill you right here." he sneered, showing his teeth like the beast he attacked just a moment ago. The glint in his eyes was almost manic.
The tell of the dead cat and her kitten flashed back in Kyria's mind. It took everything she had not to shiver. By the gods…
Her hand gripped Arya's arm more firmly. The girl didn't complain, she buried her hand against Kyria's bodice. It was trembling. Kyria wasn't sure it was from fear.
"You could," she was proud of the even tone of her voice as she agreed. She was in control. "But then, who would prevent the wolves to attack you? They only do it to defend their mistresses," she repeated, without dropping her gaze.
She was looking right at the prince. His eyes shined still, manic, frantic, almost hungry for something Kyria didn't dare think about. She had to control her thoughts, and in them, her words. She was stronger than that. She had to be. As to agree with her, Lady pressed her shoulder in the back of Kyria's knee.
"Those beasts can't hurt me! I'm the prince!" he shouted. "A prince never fears in front of common people, they should worship him like it's their place!"
"A crown is just a piece of metal to wolves my Prince. For them you are only a creature of flesh and bones, threatening their mistresses. The blood they are loyal too."
He opens her mouth, surely to say something else. Before he could, however, another voice interrupted them, cutting the strangling tension that was building up between them.
"What is happening here?" asked Lord Stark from behind them.
If she was not in front of Joffrey, Kyria could have cried. Her shoulders trembled in the need to let go of the tension in them. Father. Nothing could happen now.
"Those Bi-"
"Nothing of importance Father." cur Kyria, smiling at him.
She had never been that happy to see him.
"Your daughters threatened me!" squeaked the boy.
Ned's eyes narrowed.
"How so my Prince?" he asked slowly.
"It's a simple misunderstanding Father," said Kyria, before the boy prince could continue in his accusations. "Lady may have… frightened our prince a little. But everything is fine now. Is it not my prince?"
Joffrey's face screamed outrage. He was redder than Kyria even thought possible, his eyes huge and his lips pressed together to a point that she couldn't see them anymore. Leaving a sickly white line in the middle of this red face. Kyria didn't care to have upset the boy. She only hoped he didn't have anything to respond to that. Leave, the thought, leave...
Finally, after an endless waiting, Joffrey left them, pulling back his sword in its place on his belt. Even from his back, he looked furious. Kyria gulped.
Her heart didn't slow down until the boy wasn't seen anymore. Once he was gone, she kneels in front of the wolf, hushing her slowly while looking at the blood on her fur.
Lady, blessed her gentle heart, didn't make a sound. Kyria gently stroked her, as she looked at the cuts on her flank. There were several of them, small for the most part but, one, however, was bigger, maybe five or six inches right next to her shoulder. That was going to be difficult to heal. Kyra winced and flatted the soft fur under her hand.
"It's alright Lady. Good girl."
"What happened Kyria?" asked Father.
"He hit Lady!" accused Arya with a strong voice. "He attacked her with his sword and then he threatened Kyria! He called her a northern bitch! He said he could kill her too! I hate him, Father! I wish I could kill him!"
"Arya..." started Father.
He looked around surely trying to determine if someone else was around, listening. Kyria did the same, walking a couple of steps around her Father.
"Arya you can't talk like that." he scolds her. "Not here. Not while we are in South do you understand me?"
"But-"
"No buts! You could be killed for what you just said. You threatened the crown prince!"
"She didn't mean it like that Father," said Kyria while still looking around.
Lady was following her, still escaping a whine from time to time. Slowly, Kyria made a low whistle that resonates in the air a couple of seconds, calling Frost to her.
"Even if you didn't, Arya, you can't talk like that around the Prince or the royal family. The Lannister won't take well for someone to criticize their prince like that. Even a young girl like you." he explained, voice harsh and quick.
"I don't care about what they think!"
"Well you should Arya!" cut Kyria, kneeling in front of her sister like a mother her petulant child.
She was pissed, and it was not her place to do that. But by the gods wouldn't this girl listen!
The girl frowned, clearly unhappy. But she couldn't keep going like that. This wasn't North anymore. They needed to be strong. In control.
Kyria took her time to gather her thought, before speaking again. She wanted to be sure what she was about to say would be understood by her wild little sister.
"Do you remember what our conversation, the night of the welcoming feast? About the South and the way things are?"
She nodded slowly.
"That is exactly what I was talking about. You can't speak your mind here, or act as a wild little wolf as you did back home. Here everything is about appearance, do you understand?"
"That's stupid!"
"Maybe but it is how it works," she responded, speaking louder than Arya. "Arya we are not protected here. We are not with our own where the Stark name means more than a healthy family, do you understand? As powerful as the position of Hand is, Father's only friend in the capital is the King. And everyone keeps saying around us that the King is only king on name. The Lannisters are the ones who rules. Do you understand?"
Arya nodded, eyebrows frowned.
"Do not tempt fate Arya, it's way too easy to be killed in a land like this."
"Kyria!" called Ned.
Kyria stopped. She crossed her Father's hard gaze and shut her mouth. She looked at Arya again. The girl looked pale and slight unease, but not that much bothered by her sister's words. Kyria could only hope it was enough. She couldn't let Arya get hurt. She couldn't.
"Kyria you can't say things like this," said Father.
"Why not? It's the truth."
"Still, it's not necessary to scare her like that."
"Masking things does not make them less true," she said.
"Father? Kyria?"
Sansa's arrival closed the dialogue. She came with the two other wolves and, at Lady's sight, immediately asked for an explanation.
"Ask your betrothal." snared Arya, still pissed.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Joffrey had an… an altercation with Lady. He did this to her." explained Kyria, while scratching Frost's ears.
He looked delighted by the attention, his tongue rolling out of his mouth. Another whine was heard behind him. Nymeria seemed determined to clean her sister's wound herself with a long lick to wash out the blood. Lady was sniffing her sister's ear with some little whines and nip from the tip of her fangs. She knew better than to hurt Nymeria purposely.
"That's impossible. Lady wouldn't hurt a fly!" retorted Sansa, bringing back Kyria's attention on the current discussion.
"Aye, Lady wouldn't. I can't say the same about your prince," she said with a snort.
"Don't talk like that! Joffrey is the crown prince! He's my betrothal you can't speak like that Kyria!"
"Your betrothal had Arya and me at the end of his sword not half an hour ago," responded Kyria without batting a lash. "Don't defend him only because you want to live in one of your songs Sansa."
"It's not- He's my prince! I must stay loyal to him!"
"To your blood first Sansa," said Father. "No matter who you marry, you must stay loyal to your blood and your family first. Do you understand?"
"But, Father, a good lady must be loyal to her husband," she said blinking her eyes in confusion.
"Sansa, what are your mother's words?"
"Family, Duty, Honor." she recited solemnly.
"Aye. And what comes first?" he asked again.
"Family?" she asked.
Ned nodded again and took her daughter cheek in his palm.
"Aye, darling. Family. Do you know what that means?" She shacked her head. "That means Family come before duty and honor in your mother's house."
Sansa nodded.
"Sansa, you must never betray your family. You have only one. Do you understand?"
She nodded again. Ned smiled and kissed her head. Kyria didn't talk. She felt Arya still next to her.
"Remember darling, life is not like one of your songs. People are not necessarily nice because they seem to be so."
"Yes, father," whispered Sansa.
"Go take care of your wolf darling. She needs your attention."
The girl obeyed dutifully.
They all went back to their tent, all thought of promenades around the river forgotten. Kyria stayed close to Frost, not unlike her sisters. They had been close to a disaster just then, she knew it. She could swear all the eyes around the place were following them like as many shadows in the dark. Menacing.
This was not over, she thought, the heavy fabric of their tent closing behind her. Far from it.
Her mind went back to Bran automatically. For the first time since that awful day, she allowed herself to think about it. For a little while.
She didn't know if Bran's fate had been an unfortunate and awful accident, a message from the gods or something else. But she knew enough about power to see how things could go wrong around here. The Lannisters were powerful. The richest family around the Seven Kingdoms. People keep saying around her that it was them who ruled the Seven Kingdoms, not Robert. With the amount of Red surrounding her and the golden shadows she saw all around the party, she was tempted to believe them.
They also said Queen Cersei was ruthless for her children. And she knew from her observations that Cersei Lannister had no love for anyone and anything that was not gold and red. And that she hated the north, with all the contempt she could gather in her beautiful person.
Maybe they had nothing to do with Bran and maybe it was only Kyria's foolishness. But she was realistic. She knew it was not smart to pull the lion's tail. Even unintentionally.
She was scared of what just happened with the prince was just that. A foolish girl pulling the lioness's cub's tale.
TBC.
So? What do you think?
I kind of like this in a weird nostalgic way... I mean it's the last time we are going to see the family together in a long time (if ever.. niark) and they are all so sweet and innocent still, even with what happened to Bran!
And Bran! Let's talk about him! Did you think I would save him just to kill him right after? Come on, guys! Bran! Okay, I may not be a fan of what he became in the last season (and let's not talk about this, I don't want to be mean) but it's still Bran, and he's supposed to be one of the most important characters in the show!
So he lives. And he still had to become the Three-eyed raven! So, according to my theory (the one I talked about in the last chapter) to do so, he had to lose something. It's not his legs like in the book or show. Not both of them at least. He'll still be able to walk. But barely. It will be very difficult for him and he'll probably suffer his entire life.
I'm a monster I know, but for me that makes sense. Kyria wanted to prevent him from losing his legs. And technically, she did it. But it has a consequence. See what I mean?
As for Lady, well, I have plans for her. And Nymeria. So I couldn't let things go the same way they did in the show. Besides, the relationship between Arya and Sansa is different. So are they in a way?
You'll see what happen next chapter I suppose ;)
I'll try to post it quickly!
Don't forget to share your opinion on this chapter in the comments and to let me know if you enjoyed this ^^
I always appreciate a good critic!
See you next time!