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Chapter 8: Burdens
"Be very careful what you say next, Lord Stark," Maliya murmured, her brown eyes flickering between both of his gray ones. She had her left arm barred against his chest, keeping him against the wall, though she knew that if he really wanted to move, he could overpower her. Lord Stark, however, had his hands held out to the sides, his expression calm despite the cold metal pressed against his neck.
"What is your plan here, My Lady?" Lord Stark asked in an even, curious voice. "I'm afraid I would have to advise you against killing me. There are two guards standing outside this door, so you would never escape the room let alone make it out of Winterfell. And even if you did somehow escape, the King would put such a large bounty on your head that you would have nowhere to run."
Maliya knew this already. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with an alternate solution, but it was useless and she knew it. No one had ever learned who she really was before, especially not someone as powerful as Lord Stark. "I don't want to kill you," she hissed, trying to fight the panic rising in her throat. Seven hells, she didn't know what to do. "But I might not have any choice. If anybody finds out who I am, Robert Baratheon will kill me."
"Robert is my friend and my king," Lord Stark admitted, inclining his head slightly. "But every king has his faults and one of Robert's biggest is anything to do with the Targaryens. I give you my word that I won't tell anyone your real identity." He seemed to sense her hesitation. "I already told you that I hated what happened with Elia, Aegon and… well, you. I won't allow yet another senseless killing to occur."
If it were anyone else in all of Westeros, Maliya would have automatically assumed that they were lying. But there was no way to doubt the open, honest look on Lord Stark's face, and she was surprised to find that she trusted him. "Nobody can know. Not your wife, not your children… no one," she warned, her voice firm and insistant.
His smile was sad. "I assure you, My Lady, I can keep a secret. Especially when someone's life is in danger."
Maliya searched his face for another long moment, before dropping the dagger and moving a step back. Shifting her grip on the dagger, her eyes flickered from him, to the door, and back. "What happens now?" She asked in a soft voice, not used to feeling so off balance and uncertain.
Lord Stark gestured to the chairs in his office. "Now we sit – and you tell me your story." He began peppering her with questions as she crossed the rooms to sit. "How long have you known who you truly are? Do the Martells know? How did you end up escaping Kings Landing?"
Maliya kept the dagger in her hand. She may trust Lord Stark for the moment, but she wasn't about to make a stupid mistake. "My father and uncle have never divulged how I escaped. I remember the sharp taste of fear in the back of my throat, the smell of the salt and the rocking of the waves on the boat… but I was only three when it all happened – I can't remember any faces. Whoever it was, though, must have met with my father and uncle because they know my true identity."
"You're calling Prince Doran your father," Lord Stark observed, not one to miss anything.
Maliya's gaze was piercing. "That man adopted me into his family, loved me and raised me. He never outright blamed me, but I know that I was part of the reason that Mellario left. She was never told my real identity. In all of Westeros, there are only five people who were let in on the secret. Me, obviously, my uncles, whoever saved me in King's Landing and now you. No one else can know; it's too dangerous. It may cost them their lives if anyone thinks they were a Targaryen supporter."
"Your secret is safe with me," Lord Stark promised her once more, his smile kind and reassuring, in such contrast to the jumbled, frantic feelings inside of her. "You are married to my son, Maliya, you bear the Stark name, but more than that, you are a good person. I've seen how you interact with my children and though you've only been here a few short months, you are a part of this family."
Uncomfortable with both his words and the warm feeling that they created in her chest, Maliya looked at her lap, catching sight of the burned, blackened and frayed parts of her dress. Frowning in confusion, Maliya looked back up at Lord Stark, suddenly remembering something very important. "It's never happened before, but I could touch the fire – I'm assuming because I have the blood of the dragon, because I'm a Targaryen…." Her voice trailed off, her brown eyes watching him closely as she continued on. "Jon wasn't burned either, which is impossible since he's a Stark. Who is his mother?"
It was almost like Maliya could physically feel Lord Stark shutting down. His face emptied out into a blank mask, and there was an ice-cold look in his eyes. Maliya fought a shiver as he suddenly transformed from a kind, understanding father to the formidable, intimidating Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.
"That is not up for discussion," Lord Stark told her flatly, his voice brooking no argument.
Maliya's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" She gasped. "But you don't understand, he wasn't burned by the fire – "
"That is not up for discussion," Lord Stark repeated in harsh, slightly raised voice.
She sat there, mouthing wordlessly, completely taken aback. Who in the seven hells was Jon Snow's mother and why didn't Lord Stark want anyone to know? She was torn between wanting to press him for more information and respecting his wishes. Her curiosity was now peaked, however, and she couldn't get the image of Jon's unblemished skin out of her mind. She had just opened her mouth to ask another question when a loud, agitated pounding suddenly came from the door, along with what sounded like a scuffle.
"Father?" Robb shouted through the door, his voice slightly panicked. "Father, what is going on? Tell your guards to let me in! Is Maliya with you? Jory thought he saw her headed towards the library tower before it caught fire, but I can't find her!"
"Cover your dress," Lord Stark urged her quickly. She pulled his much larger cloak further around her body, hoping that it just looked like she was using it for warmth as he got up and walked to the door to let Robb in.
Robb strode in immediately, looking extremely ruffled as his blue eyes flickered around the room quickly before landing on her. She was touched by the relief she could see in the slump of his shoulders; it appeared that he had been worried for her safety and she didn't know how that made her feel. He took a few steps toward her and stopped, hesitating. "Are you alright?" He asked uncertaintly.
Maliya had to stop her gaze from drifting to Lord Stark. She knew that the moment to press for more answers had passed and she also knew that Lord Stark was never going to divulge any information that he felt she shouldn't know. "I'm alright," Maliya assured him, standing on legs that felt surprisingly weak. It appeared that the adrenaline was finally leaving her body and the shock of the night was catching up with her. "Just tired."
Looking concerned, he slipped an arm around her shoulder in support as she approached him. "Come on," he murmured, shooting his father a strange look. "Let's get you to bed."
She let Robb take care of her and lead her out of Lord Stark's office. Her mind was whirling once more, trying to figure out why Lord Stark would want to keep the identity of Jon's mother a secret. Then again… wasn't she keeping her own identity a secret? If her reasoning was because she was trying to protect people she cared about…. Then was Lord Stark's the same? But who was the woman that Lord Stark broke his vows for, and why was just knowing her name so dangerous?
"Maliya? Did you hear me?"
"Hmm?" Maliya blinked, looking up at him, still clutching the cloak close to her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I was asking why my father brought you into his office."
"Oh, he just wanted to make sure I was alright." Maliya knew that her reasoning was weak at best. She could see the confused look on Robb's face and hurried to distract him. She faked a yawn, leaning more heavily into his side.
His grip tightened on her, his confusion giving way to concen. "Don't fall asleep on me yet, Princess," he tried to joke lightly. "We're almost there."
"Thank you," Maliya murmured softly as he helped her into their bedchambers. She turned to look at him as he hesitated once more by the doorway.
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Are you going to be alright? I told the others that I would come back and help put out the fire after I found you."
"Go," she told him with a reassuring smile. "I'm unharmed, Robb, and I can undress myself. You should go… we will talk later."
Robb nodded and turned to go, pausing in the doorway before he closed the door. "Maliya? I'm really glad you're safe." He looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it and left.
Maliya stared at the closed door for a moment in surprise before shaking herself out of it. With a wince, she threw Lord Stark's cloak on the chair and began to slip out of her ruined dress. She stared down at it, the memory of the beautiful yet terrifying roar of the flames dancing in front of her eyes. She unconsciously found herself gnawing on her bottom lip – wondering if she really did have the Targaryen Madness. For a long, glorious, heartstopping moment, Maliya had reached her hand out as the fire called to her invitingly. If Jon hadn't called her name, hadn't stopped her… would she have walked willingly into the flames?
Not wanting to acknowledge the slight shaking in her hands, Maliya quickly strode over to the lit fireplace and threw the dress inside. She watched it burn, the smell of the burning cloth invading her nose and the fire dancing in her eyes.
"Are you sure you have to go?" Maliya asked quietly, looking up at Jon from where she was kneeling on the ground, saying her goodbye's to Ghost. She gently scratched behind his ears, no longer unnerved by his blood red eyes. "Bran hasn't woken up yet, and…" she paused, looking around to make sure there was no one to overhear them. "We still haven't figured out why you didn't burn in the fire," she whispered, petting Ghost one more time before standing.
"You didn't burn either," Jon whispered back, shifting uncomfortably. Maliya looked away when he mentioned this, feeling only slightly guilty that she hadn't told him the truth. She told herself over and over again that she was protecting people that she cared about.
"You've been avoiding me, Jon," Maliya muttered, watching him with her brown eyes. "I thought you would be interested in figuring out what happened to us – "
"Lord Stark has forbidden me from discussing it," Jon interrupted, finally revealing the reason why he had avoided spending any time alone with her.
Maliya sent him an incredulous look. "And you just accepted that?"
Jon huffed in frustration. "He's the Lord of Winterfell and my father, Maliya. I'm already the scandalous, bastard son," he spat in a bitter voice. "I don't want to give him yet another reason to be disappointed by me."
Maliya heard the years of pain in his voice and regretfully conceded defeat, backing down and dropping the matter altogether. Though she desperately wanted to learn who Jon's mother was, to know why he hadn't burned in the fire, she didn't want to ruin their final farewell by making him angry with her. "Alright," she nodded, smiling sadly. "I hate that you're leaving, Jon, but I'm proud of you for making your own way. I am truly going to miss you."
He smiled as she pulled him into a hug. "I'll miss you too, Maliya. But we'll see each other again soon. I promise."
Maliya closed her eyes as she held on for one more moment, already feeling like she was losing someone very important to her. She had only known him a few, short months but he had been a comforting presence in a new and scary place. Her expression was sad as she let go. Something over her shoulder caught Jon's eye and she turned to see Robb approaching them, his expression somber.
"Have you said goodbye to Bran?" He asked Jon, his gaze inquisitive. Jon nodded, his smile fading. "He's not going to die," Robb continued in an upbeat, resolute voice. Maliya's lips lifted at the conviction she heard in his voice; she was glad that hope now filled him instead of dread. "I know it."
"You Starks are hard to kill," Jon joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"My mother?"
Jon turned towards his horse, focusing on adjusting the straps of the saddle and keeping his face turned away from Robb. "She was very kind."
"Good," Robb answered and Maliya had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. When it came to his mother and Jon, Robb seemed to have no idea of the tension between the two of them. "Next time I see you, you'll be all in black," Robb grinned as Jon turned to face them both once more.
"It was always my color," Jon quipped, shrugging his shoulders.
"Farewell, Snow."
"And you, Stark." Maliya watched the pair of them as their smiles faded and they pulled each other into a long hug. She felt another pang in her chest, knowing that this must be hard for both of them. They had grown up with each other for six and ten years, had probably never been apart for more than a few days, and now they were going to be separated for the first time. Still, it was nice to see that even through Lady Stark's best efforts, both Robb and Jon would always be brothers.
Robb stepped back to stand next to Maliya, his eyes sad though he adopted a demeanor worthy of a Lord. Jon swung up onto his horse and looked down at them both. "I hope you two continue to be happy together," he told them, his smile fond. "Write me when Bran wakes."
"We will," Robb promised, slipping his arm around Maliya's waist.
"Bye Jon," Maliya murmured. "Ride safe."
He gave them both one last smile before turning his horse and trotting off to go find his uncle. Maliya watched him go, unable to help feeling a strong dislike for Lady Stark in that moment, even though she was in so much pain. If she had been accepting towards Jon, an innocent child in the situation, maybe he wouldn't feel like he needed to leave in order to be happy.
Suppressing a sigh and struggling not to acknowledge the sharp ache in her heart, Maliya briefly leaned her head against Robb's chest. "I'm going to miss him," she admitted in a soft voice.
"As will I," Robb proclaimed in a thick voice before clearing his throat. "Come on," he told her, taking her hand. "Unfortunately, we have a few more goodbyes to make."
With her other hand she pulled her new cloak tighter around her body and walked with him through the chaos of people hurrying around, packing last minute items as the King's men prepared to leave Winterfell. They headed toward where Sansa and Arya were waiting with Septa Mordane, who was ordering some poor man to lift their heavy trunks onto the wagon.
"Lady Maliya," Sansa greeted her with an excited smile. Maliya smiled back, glad at least that she had managed to break Sansa's habit of curtseying before her. She couldn't break the younger girl's formalities, though she had tried for the past four months to get her to just call her Maliya.
"Hello, sisters," Maliya smiled, causing Sansa's grin to widen. Arya looked as sullen as ever. "Although it pains us to do so, we've come to say goodbye."
"Don't be sad, Maliya," Sansa crooned, pulling her into a tight hug. "We'll see each other again shortly! You guys will travel to King's Landing, of course, when Prince Joffrey and I marry." Sansa's blue eyes were dancing with elation when she pulled away. She was practically vibrating with happiness. "And maybe Joff and I will come visit when you two have your first baby!"
She felt Robb shift uncomfortably next to her, but Maliya chose to ignore that statement, focusing instead on the mention of Prince Joffrey Baratheon, the cruel, spoiled child who was set to inherit the throne. She had heard terrible rumors about how awful he really was, but she had accidently witnessed it first hand just this morning. She had almost walked in on a conversation or beratement rather, of Lord Tyrion and Joffrey. Lord Tyrion had been trying to get his nephew to pay his respects to Lord and Lady Stark, and Joffrey had interrupted, saying how didn't care for Bran and how he meant nothing to him. Lord Tryion had slapped him three times for his insolence and Joffrey had run off to find his mother with tears in his eyes.
It made her respect for Lord Tyrion grow, as well as her dislike for Joffrey. Sansa deserved so much better than him, but she was blinded by the fantasy of marrying a Prince.
"Be careful, Sansa," Maliya warned in a light voice, trying not to frighten her. "You don't want to give your heart away too freely." Sansa face crumpled into a confused frown, but before she could question or argue further, Septa Mordane called her over. She had heard a horn being blown by the gates of Winterfell, and the sounds of dozens of men mounting their horses.
"What's wrong Arya?" Robb asked, bending down to her level.
"I know why she's coming," Arya muttered, throwing a dark look in Setpa Mordane's direction. "Father is going to be too busy being the Hand of the King, and she's going to have to watch us. Sansa's marrying the stupid prince but the only reason I'm going is because they want to turn me into a stupid lady."
"Maybe," Maliya conceded, knowing that she was probably right. "You could think about it more like an adventure though – "
Arya crossed her arms and looked away, blinking rapidly and trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "I don't want an adventure. I don't want to go."
Robb rocked back on his heels as Arya threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his shoulder. He looked up at Maliya with miserable blue eyes, but she couldn't do anything but shrug helplessly. She didn't think there was anything that she or Robb could say to make Arya feel better. Lord Stark had made his decision – Arya was going with them to King's Landing.
"Bran will wake up soon," Robb told Arya, rubbing her back soothingly. "Everything will go back to normal and then maybe we can plan a visit to see you all in King's Landing."
Arya pulled back, sniffling. "Promise?" She whispered, looking down at him.
Robb's smile was strong, his expression confident as he lightly tapped Arya's nose with her finger. "Promise," he answered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before straightening.
"Where's mother?" They looked around as Rickon approached them, his little face confused. "Isn't she going to come say goodbye?"
"We already said our goodbyes to mother," Sansa told him, coming over to pull him into a brief hug. "We'll see you soon, Rickon."
"Bye, Rick," Arya told him, also giving him a hug.
"You girls just about ready to go?" Lord Stark asked, coming over with his horse, smiling. "The Queen and her children are getting in the wheelhouse now, so we'll be leaving any moment." The girls nodded, hugging everyone one last time before getting in their own wagon. Lord Stark turned to the three of them, pulling Rickon into a rough hug and ruffling his hair. "I need you to be strong, Rickon," he told his youngest son, who looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "Look after Bran and your mother."
"I will, Father," Rickon promised solemnly.
Lord Stark grinned at him, ruffling his hair one more time before turning to Maliya, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Farewell, My Lady."
"Goodbe, Lord Stark." She looked up at him, knowing that he was literally going to be walking into the lion's den with her biggest kept secret. She was putting her trust in him completely, and she felt slightly relieved when he gave her the smallest of nods in return, accepting that trust and letting her know that he wouldn't let her down.
"Robb," Lord Stark began, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm trusting you to look after things here. You're the Lord of Winterfell while I'm gone." Robb nodded, standing a little taller, his shoulders straightening with the weight of that responsibility. "I have faith in you, son. I know you can do this."
"Thanks father," Robb answered. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Lord Stark smiled, pulling him into a tight hug and clapping him on the back. "Keep an eye on your mother, Robb, and send word when Bran wakes."
He bid them all one last farewell before climbing onto his horse and leading the way out of Winterfell, following the long line of the King's men. Robb and Maliya waved as the wagon passed by them. They both stood there, silent, even after Rickon ran off and the last of the soldiers exited through the gates. She could already feel the absence of Lord Stark, Sansa and Arya; it was eerily quiet now. Maliya looked up at Robb and saw that his eyes were on the now closed gates, his jaw clenched.
She placed a hand on his arm. "Robb – "
His blue eyes were steely as he looked down at her. "I'm fine, Princess. I'm the Lord of Winterfell now, and with my mother…. In her current state, you're the acting Lady of Winterfell. We have no other choice."
Things at Winterfell had fallen into a strange routine now that the castle was so empty. Things were quieter with the King's men gone, it was true, but Maliya found herself missing the daily bickering between Arya and Sansa, the quiet humor in Jon's eyes or the exasperated voice of Lord Stark when he had to once again break them apart.
Bran still hadn't woken since his fall, and Lady Stark still never left his room. She sat over him day and night, and Maliya wasn't sure that she ever slept. Poor Rickon was terribly confused and Robb often told her that he would just follow him around, crying. Maliya tried to keep him company during the day, but some days Rickon just wanted his mother and didn't want to see Maliya at all.
Robb, on the other hand, was often up early in the morning and late to come to bed as he learned first hand what it meant to be the Lord of Winterfell. To no one's surprise, the royal visit from the King and his court had cost Winterfell an exhorbitant amount of money, and it fell on Robb's shoulders to deal with the after effects.
Maliya sighed as she brushed her hair out, moving to stand closer to the fire, trying to keep the cold at bay. She didn't know if she would ever admit this out loud, but truth be told, she missed her husband. She knew he was still here, of course, but she only saw him for a few minutes every day. The bed was always cold when she woke up – she even missed the warmth she felt when she lay next to him under the furs.
What would Arianne do in this situation? She snorted before she had even finished the thought. Arianne would think of some…. Creative ways to get his mind off the stress and to show him that she was there for him. Supporting him. Even though Maliya respected and liked her husband as a person, she was not ready for that step.
Hell, they hadn't even talked about or mentioned their almost kiss from the day that Bran fell. Maliya wrinkled her nose. Should they even talk about it?
Maliya froze with her brush still in her hair, tilting her head to the side with a frown. A strange noise, what sounded like something heavy falling to the floor, came from down the hallway. As Maliya continued to listen, a pained scream made her drop the brush to the floor even as she was picking up her skirts and running out of her bedchambers.
Her speed picked up as she saw Bran's wolf enter a room at the other end of corridor, a terrible snarl echoing to her along with a wet, ripping, gurgling noise. Panting, eyes wide, Maliya skidded to a halt at the doorway to Bran's bedchambers her brown eyes flickering around the room and struggling to comprehend what she was seeing.
Her eyes first fell on a hooded man lying on the floor, his throat ripped open, blood pooling around his body. As she watched Bran's wolf lightly leapt onto the bed, his muzzle stained red as he settled against Bran's side with a grumble. Finally, her eyes fell on Lady Stark who was on her knees, her face pale, her hands dripping with blood, which were cradled against her chest.
"Oh, My Lady," Maliya gasped, when she saw that her hands were torn open, slashed across the palms, the blood dripping freely from the cuts. She hurried over to Lady Stark, dropping to her knees and frantically looking around the room. Making a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, Maliya took the bottom of her dress and pulled, ripping off the fabric to tie around her hands, attempting to staunch the bleeding. "Help!" Maliya called over her shoulder, yelling as loud as she could. "We need some help in here!"
"There's a fire," Lady Stark told her in an emotionless voice, her blue eyes still wide with shock. "In the stables. Everybody went there to help. He said that I shouldn't be here."
Maliya's gaze drifted to the man lying on the floor. "What happened, My Lady?"
"He wanted to kill Bran, he said that he was dead anyway. He said that I shouldn't be here," Lady Stark repeated, sprurring Maliya into action. She really didn't like the look of Lady Stark's hands or her current emotional state.
"Hello?" Maliya screamed, turning her face towards the door as she yelled. "Can we get some help in here please?" A maid came running in, stumbling to a stop in the doorway, a loud, horrified gasp escaping her when she took in the scene. "Don't just stand there!" Maliya snapped impatiently. "Find Robb – find Lord Stark and Maester Luwin! Bring them here as quickly as you can! Go!"
The frightened maid took off again and Maliya crouched back down next to Lady Stark. "It's alright, My Lady. Robb will be here soon and everything will be okay."
Lady Stark didn't answer, just sat there hunched against the side of the bed, her broken hands cradled against her chest as she stared at the dead man on the floor. Maliya didn't know what to do. She stepped up to the window where she could see the people of Winterfell frantically trying to put out the fire in the stables. She drifted over to Bran's bedside, checking to make sure he was alright. His wolf looked up at her as she approached, but he only gave her outstretched hand a lick. "Thank you," Maliya murmured, petting the wolf's head. "Thank you for saving his life."
Loud footsteps approached and Robb burst into the room followed by several guards. His face slackened with shock and disbelief as he looked around. "Mother…"
He staggered forward a few steps before stopping, his gaze drifting up to Maliya's in horror. "Robb," she whispered, moving to his side. "That man, he – he tried to kill Bran but your mother was here and she stopped him. Bran's wolf came in and…" she trailed off, gesturing to the man's body.
Robb's face hardened as he turned to the guards. "I want two men posted outside of Bran's room day and night, no exceptions! You three, get this body out of here. Put it in my father's office, I want to search it later. Maester Luwin, finally!" Robb sighed with relief as the older man finally entered the room. "It's my mother, she's been attacked."
Maester Luwin hurried over to the shell-shocked woman and examined her hands, his frown deepening as he undressed Maliya's cloths and saw the wounds. "These go deep," he told Robb, looking up at him. "Almost to the bone. We'll need to get her washed up before I can dress the wounds."
Robb gave some more orders and two maids entered the room, wrapping Lady Stark in blankets and helping her to her feet. Robb watched Maester Luwin carefully lead his mother out of the room, a lost expression on his face. "Gods," he muttered, rubbing an exhausted hand over his face. "How did this happen? Why would anyone want to kill an innocent, helpless boy?"
They got their answer four days later.
Maliya was sitting by Bran's bedside, a position she had taken up ever since Lady Stark had been attacked. She often had breakfast and tried to talk to Bran, hoping that her words would make his eyes open, but it never work. Still, she talked. It made her feel better, somehow, to chatter nonsensical things to him. She told him about his mother's recovery, about how Robb was handling running Winterfell and how Rickon was pushing them all away.
Standing, Maliya gathered her breakfast tray and turned to leave, freezing when she realized someone was standing in the doorway. "Lady Stark," she breathed, eyes widening at the sight of the older woman, who had been asleep for the past four days straight. "I'm sorry, I just – " She gestured helplessly to Bran before changing the subject. "Are you alright?"
Lady Stark's blue eyes lingered on her son a moment longer before landing on Maliya. With that simple look, Maliya knew the older woman was back to her old self. Her eyes were still clouded with grief, but she no longer looked as tense as a bowstring and the sanity seemed to have returned to her. "Find Robb and meet me in the godswood."
Maliya squinted at her in confusion. "Eh, what – " But she was already gone.
Completely bewildered, Maliya stood there for a moment before placing the breakfast tray back down on the table and heading down the corridor. She stopped in her bedchambers to pick up her and Robb's cloak before heading down to the Great Hall where she hoped he was still eating.
Sighing with relief when she spotted him talking with one of his guards, she tried to inconspicuously slip through the tables, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Coming up behind him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I need you to come with me." She saw him turn his head toward her, an automatic, confused frown crossing his face. "Smile," she murmured hurriedly, kissing him on the cheek and pretending she didn't notice him stiffen. "People are watching."
Robb easily put a smile on his face before excusing himself from the man he was talking to, and standing to follow her out of the Great Hall. Maliya picked up her speed as she led the way out of the castle, forching Robb to jog a little to keep up. "Princess? What's so urgent? If I didn't know any better, I would have throught you were trying to seduce me – "
"Seduce you?" Maliya cut him off with a distracted frown. "I wasn't trying to – "
"Your hands on my body," he teased in a light voice, blue eyes twinkling. "Whispering in my ear, your lips – "
"Alright," Maliya interrupted once more, eyebrows raised, a smirk crossing her face as she glanced up at him. "I wasn't trying to seduce you. Believe me, if I had been trying to seduce you, you would know it." Robb looked intrigued by the prospect, but she knew they needed to focus on the task at hand. "Listen… your mother's awake."
Robb gaped at her in shock. "Since when?" He demanded, eyes narrowing. "Is she alright? Where is she – as a matter of fact, where are we going?"
"The godswood," Maliya answered, still hurrying along. "All she said was to find you and meet her there. It was all very mysterious, but in that brief interaction she seemed…. better. More in control of herself."
Robb probably would have pressed her with more questions, but they had already entered the godswod by the point, their eyes falling on Lady Stark accompanied by Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin and Theon Greyjoy of all people. "Mother?" Robb asked as they strode forward to join the circle, his eyes flickering between everyone gathered. "What is this? What's going on?"
"What I'm about to tell you must remain between us," Lady Stark began, her voice strong as she made eye contact with each person. She took a deep, preparatory breath. "I don't believe that Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown."
Maliya was surprised to find that this new piece of information didn't shock her as much as it did the others. Theon looked confused, but both Robb and Ser Rodrik stiffened, their eyes widening incredulously.
"The boy was always surefooted before," Maester Luwin added, the only one who looked unphased. He had obviously already spoken about this with Lady Stark.
"Someone has tried to kill him… twice. But why?" She asked in a frustrated voice. "Why try to murder an innocent boy? Unless…. unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."
"But what, My Lady?" Theon asked, his face still crumpled in a confused frown.
"I don't know," she admitted, the frustration leaking through once more. "But I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to doubt their loyalty to the crown. Jaime Lannister did not join the hunt the day that Bran fell. He remained here in the castle."
"My Lady that is a monstrous suggestion," Ser Rodrik spoke in the silence that followed, still shocked. "Even the Kingslayer would flinch at murdering a child."
"Would he?" Maliya mused, tilting her head to the side. "Think of who his father is. My uncle has been telling me for years that Tywin Lannister ordered the deaths of my Aunt Elia and her children. They were innocent as well!"
He nodded slowly, accepting her statement. "Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Ser Rodrik asked, pulling the weapon out of his jacket. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone."
"So someone must have given it to him," Maliya concluded, crossing her arms. "Have we learned anything more about him?"
"No one knows his name," Ser Rodrik told them. "He was no man of Winterfell, My Lady, but some say they've seen him here and about the castle the past few weeks. With all the strangers hanging around there's no way of saying who he belonged to."
"He'd been hiding in the stables," Theon added. "You could smell it on him. He must have seen the distraction the fire in the library tower caused and set his own. Luckily the stables were mostly empty after the King left, and none of the horses were injured. He was just trying to draw everyone away from the castle."
"They come into my home," Robb began, his icy blue eyes thunderous with barely contained rage. "And try to murder my brother. If it's war they want – "
Theon jumped in eagerly, puffing his chest out. "If it comes to that, you know I'll stand behind you –
It seemed to Maliya that Maester Luwin had to struggle not to roll his eyes. "Is there going to be a battle in the godswood?" He asked in the most sarcastic voice she had ever heard him use. "Hm? Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet. Lord Stark must be told of this."
Maliya found herself half listening to the words that came next. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest. The Lannisters were involved with several conspiracy theories and now suddenly there was talk of war. Her mind was torn. On the one hand she wanted revenge on the Lannisters more than anything else. But on the other hand did she really want war? It would be an opportunity for her to directly oppose them, true, but there was always so much death involved in war. Was it worth it?
"I don't trust a raven to carry these words," Lady Stark was saying, shaking her head immediately.
"I'll ride to King's Landing," Robb offered. Maliya snapped her head around to look at him, her stomach flopping unpleasantly at the thought as she automatically opened her mouth to say no. Lady Stark beat her to it.
"No. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself," she told them, straightening her shoulder.
"Mother you can't – "
"I must."
"I'll send a host of guards to protect you," Ser Rodrik offered, but once again she was shaking her head.
"Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know I'm coming."
"Let me accompany you, at least. The road can be a dangerous place for a woman alone."
Robb looked completely lost and confused at the thought that his mother would now be leaving them as well. "But what about Bran?"
"I have prayed to the seven for more than a month," Lady Stark told him gently, looking sad once more. "Bran's life is in their hands now."
Maliya knew that Robb wasn't happy with her decision to leave, that he didn't want her to go, but he also couldn't directly oppose her without sounding like a young boy.
She was gone three days later.
Six million dragons in debt. Ned Stark slowly left the small council chambers, his mind having a hard time grasping such a large amount of money. And now Robert wants to spend more money on some ridiculous tournament to celebrate my arrival? I won't let this rest on my head! He was going to have a very stern, honest talk with the King.
Later, though. Right now he was tired, sore, hungry and irritable and all he wanted was a nice bath, a hot meal and a soft bed. The whole situation with the Prince and Nymeria, Lady and the butcher's boy had exhausted them all. Sansa and Arya were understandably distraught and were at each other's throats more often than usual. The incident also caused more friction with the Lannister's as well – it was why they had arrived so much faster than the royal family.
"Lord Stark!" Closing his eyes in annoyance and gritting his teeth, Ned regretfully stopped walking and turned around.
"Lord Varys," Ned greeted in an even voice, too irritated and tired to even attempt to smile.
The other man was smiling though, his hands laced in front of him. "I can imagine how weary you must be after your long journey, My Lord, I promise I won't keep you long." Thank both the old gods and the new for that small mercy at least. "I'm told congratulations are in order." Ned blinked at him in confusion, causing Lord Varys' smile to widen. "I hear your eldest married Princess Maliya of Dorne."
"Oh, yes," Ned nodded distractidely. "Yes, they got married a few months ago."
"And how is she settling into her new life at Winterfell?" Lord Varys asked pleasantly. "We were all so worried about the Princess when she had that terrible sickness as an infant – we were relieved finally recovered."
Interest peaked, Ned peered at Lord Varys in speculation. How many people knew about Maliya's "sickness" as a child? Varys was in King's Landing during Robert's Rebellion… there was someone who had helped Rhaenys escape… was that person Varys? Ned shook his head, inwardly snorting. Varys was almost impossible to read – he almost always had a disarming smile on his face, but with his network of spiders and the amount of secrets he must know, nobody could ever tell whom he really served.
"Maliya is settling in just fine," Ned answered finally, a small smile crossing his face at the thought of the young woman who had married his son. "She's a strong, courageous woman and I believe that she'll be very good for Robb."
Varys' smile widened, his head tilting to the side. "That is good to hear, My Lord. I was happy to read some good news in these very trying times."
Ned nodded again, eyebrows furrowed. "Right. Well I'm going to go check on my girls, make sure they're unpacking and not fighting each other."
"Of course." Lord Varys paused for a moment. "For what it's worth, Lord Stark, I'm glad you're here, even if you aren't. The capital needs a man like you." Ned inclined his head and gave Lord Varys a thin-lipped smile before turning on his heel and heading down the corridor.
Varys watched him go, working quickly to hide the sudden gleam of interest in his eye or the wide grin that wanted to cross his face. Once Lord Stark was out of sight, Varys turned on his heel and headed to his own bedchambers. There was a strange feeling of excitement running through him – things were changing within Westeros and he wanted to make sure all the pieces were in place. He took out a piece of paper and a quill and got to work. His spiders had a very important message to deliver.
"You're up early," Robb commented in her ear as he moved past to sit next to her on the bench. Maliya hurriedly picked up her cup and took a drink to hide her shiver as his hand slid across her back.
"I had difficulty sleeping," Maliya answered, watching him pile his plate with bacon. She put down her cup and took a deep breath before turning to face him, a flutter of nerves spiraling through her stomach, her heart beating a quick rhythym. "So I was thinking of riding out to explore the Winter Town today. Would…. Would you be interested in joining me?"
Robb froze with a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth, a flash of surprise crossing his face as he lowered his hand and cleared his throat. "Yeah! Yeah, I would, except…" he trailed off, a regretful grimace crossing his face. He briefly closed his eyes with a sigh. "Maester Luwin has my whole day already planned – "
"It's alright!" Maliya interjected quickly, plastering a smile to her face, trying to hide her own disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Princess," Robb told her sincerely, his blue eyes looking guilty. "I know I've been really busy lately and that we haven't spent a lot of time together since – "
"Stop it, Robb," Maliya interrupted softly, placing a hand on his arm. "I know how hard you've been working as the new Lord of Winterfell. Your mother and father would be really proud of you."
His grateful smile was breathtaking and made her heart pound all over again. "Thank you, Maliya," he murmured, placing a hand over her own. "I appreciate that, I really do. But you're also my new wife and we've been trying to get to know one another, which I've been enjoying more than I thought I would." His thumb rubbing against the back of her hand was entirely too distracting. "I'm going to do my best to set aside time each day for you, and for Bran and Rickon."
Maliya shook her head, not wanting to get in the way of his duties. "You don't have to – "
"Of course I do," Robb chuckled, easily brushing her words aside. "You're my family."
The words were simply and honestly said, as if it were a fact of life, and it caused a small bubble of hope to swell inside her chest. Shocking both of them, Maliya leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His blue eyes widened and Maliya looked away, her face flushing red as she pulled her hand back.
Her eyes flicked around the room, landing on little Rickon who was sitting alone at one of the empty tables, his head on his hands as he picked at his food, Shaggydog lying at his feet. Sorrow trickled through her at the lonely, unhappy boy that he had become and in that moment the notion came to her. "Do you mind if I take Rickon with me?"
Robb followed her gaze and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, I think that's a great idea. Truth be told, I've been worried about him. He's confused, he doesn't understand why most of his family is suddenly gone. The only brother's he has left, one is broken, lying in a month long sleep and the other is too busy to pay him any attention."
"This is not your fault, Robb," Maliya told him fiercely, brown eyes narrowed. "You're doing the best you can." She took a breath, her expression smoothing out and her voice lowering. "I can't help you be the Lord of Winterfell. At least in this way, I can take some of the burden that's been placed on your shoulders."
"Thank you," Robb whispered, his blue eyes unreadable. Smiling at him, Maliya pushed back her chair and stood.
Robb marveled at how just a few short months had completely changed his opinion about his wife. He couldn't imagine going through all this – his sisters and father stuck south in the lion's den, his mother traveling to meet them with words of treason, his one brother voluntarily leaving to go to the Wall, and his other two unconscious and bedridden, the other young and frightened – without her. Although he had been extremely busy, to the point where at night he just face plants on his bed with exhaustion, he had taken notice of the little things that Maliya has been doing to help out. She had become the voice of reason, someone he could lean on and one that offered unwavering support.
Not only had she taken over his mother's duties over running the household staff, but she had also taken to looking after Bran. He had watched her one morning, unnoticed, while sitting at his bedside, holding his hand and chatting to him like he was awake and well. A feeling had filled him at that moment, a warm, tender feeling just like when he caught her telling the story about Nymeria to his siblings. A feeling that filled him once more as he watched her crouch by Rickon's side, ruffling his hair playfully and whispering something to him that made him smile.
His hand came up to lightly touch the cheek that could still feel the warmth of her lips. He was struck by a sudden realization, one that had snuck up on him and blindsided him completely.
He respected, appreciated, was attracted to and liked his wife. As more than the friend that she had become and a companion in this new situation he found himself in.
And it changed everything.
"Alright, little man, up you come." Maliya looked down at him from where she was sitting atop of a saddled Shadow. She gestured to the two guards that Robb had sent to accompany them to help Rickon up in front of her, but Rickon stopped them, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in exasperation.
"I'm not little, Maliya, I'm going to be six soon!" Maliya held up her hands in defense, grinning at him as he looked for a way to climb up. She waited patiently until he gave up with a sigh, looking sheepish. "I need help." Biting her lip to stop her grin from widening, she signaled to one of the guards again, who lifted Rickon into the space in front of her. "Why are we taking your horse?" Rickon asked after he was settled, his momentary embarrassment already forgotten. "The Winter Town is just outside the gates, we could just walk there you know."
Maliya reached around him to grab Shadow's reins as the guards mounted their own horses and she pressed her heels together, turning him around to face the gates. "We are going to the Winter town… eventually. But I've been telling you all about how fast Shadow is, so I figured I'd take the time to actually show you."
"Really?" Rickon asked excitedly, twisting his body around to face her, his eyes lit up.
"Really," Maliya confirmed as they exited the gates, Shaggydog bounding into the open field in front of them enthusiastically. "Hold on tight, Rick – here we go!"
Maliya nudged Shadow forward into a trot, and once she was sure that Rickon had a tight grip pushed him even further into a canter. The sounds of the guards horses behind them faded away, as Shadow's smooth, even stride lengthened beneath them. Leaning forward slightly, she held the reins with one hand while she wrapped her other around Rickon's body, securing him to her slightly and ensuring that he didn't fall.
She heard him laugh excitedly as the wind whipped through their hair. "Faster, Maliya, faster!" He shouted loudly, his hands holding the pommel of the saddle as he glanced to their right. "Come on, Shaggydog!" He laughed again as the black wolf easily kept pace with them, looking just as pleased to be out of the walls of Winterfell as Rickon.
Maliya's grin was so wide that her cheeks hurt, her heart pounding as the adrenaline pumped through her body. As it always did when she rode Shadow or fought with her sword, her worries slipped away for a couple of seconds and she just enjoyed the feel of her horses' strength and speed beneath her and the cold wind whipping through her hair and stealing her breath.
Maliya didn't open Shadow up to his full gallop for fear of Rickon's safety, but the boy didn't seem to notice or care. She was just happy to see that heartwarming smile on his face once more.
"Can we go again?" Rickon asked after one of the guards had helped him down from the saddle. He was talking rapidly, practically bouncing up and down with exhilaration. "I mean not right now, of course, cause were at the Winter Town, but soon! Maybe tomorrow? Shadow is so fast, I've never been on a horse that could run like that!"
"Of course we can do that again," Maliya chuckled, hopping down off Shadow and putting an arm around his shoulder. "I promise you kid, that was just as much fun for me as it was for you. But for right now, you have to give me a tour of this town!"
Maliya handed Shadow's reins off to the guard who was going to stay behind with the horses as Rickon grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, the other guard tailing them silently. Maliya looked around at all the small and neat houses built out of log and stone, eyes widening at how many people there were milling around the streets of the market square. "There's a lot of people here," Maliya commented in surprise.
"Father says that more people come in the winter," Rickon piped up. "They sell tools and clothes and other boring things, but Theon says that the pie here is the best! Can we get some pie, Maliya?"
Maliya's eyes widened in an exaggerated expression of excitement. "Are you serious? If you don't lead me to the pie right now, I might lose my mind!" She joked, grinning.
Rickon giggled, walking faster now as he rolled his eyes at her over his shoulder. "You're weird, Maliya. But as long as I get some pie, I like it!" Minutes later they were happily munching on a slice of pie, strolling through the town and looking into the different wooden stalls. Maliya took a basket and they went shopping, buying a few odds and ends. "Maliya?" Rickon stopped walking after he had finished his pie and looked back up at her with a child-like, innocent expression. "Thanks for the pie. And the ride on Shadow. I had fun, even if it was only for a little while."
He looked down, playing with the sleeve of his shirt, his smile fading and that lost look coming back into his eyes. Heart aching for him, Maliya knelt down in front of him, using her thumb to wipe the jam off the corners of his mouth. Keeping her expression upbeat and a pleasant smile on her face, Maliya lightly tapped him on the nose, causing his lips to twitch. "If you are ever feeling lost, or scared, or upset you come see me, Rickon Stark. I know Robb is busy a lot, but until Bran wakes up I will be here for you. How does that sound?"
Rickon threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly around the neck. Blinking in surprise, Maliya hesitantly brought her arms up to hug him back. "I love you, Maliya," Rickon murmured in a small voice.
"I – " Maliya stammered, her throat burning as she blinked rapidly. "I love you too, Rick."
He sniffled in her ear. "Can I have more pie?"
Laughing, Maliya pulled away and stood. "You know, if you have too much pie that's what you're going to turn into."
"That's not possible," Rickon told her pointedly, raising his eyebrows.
"Well you're just too smart for your own good," Maliya grumbled distractedly, something silver having just caught her eye. She wandered over to one of the nearby stalls and touched a silver direwolf head, the Stark sigil. "Rickon, when is Robb's nameday?"
"Not for another two months. Why?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.
"No reason, I just need to – hey!" Maliya exclaimed in dismay as a small boy knocked into her basket and almost sent it crashing to the floor. She caught a glimpse of a messy head of black hair before it disappeared into the crowd.
"Watch where you're going!" Rickon called after him, eyes narrowed. "Are you alright, Maliya?"
"Yeah," Maliya answered after a moment, her eyes scanning the crowded square and not seeing him everywhere. "So!" She smiled, glancing back down at Rickon, the boy already forgotten. "Where to next?"
Maliya brought her purchases up to her bedchambers after they had returned to the castle and placed them upon her bed, eager to go through them. She was unpacking everything, including a great pair of fur gloves that she was dying to wear, when she found the small, rolled parchment of paper. She slowly reached for it and frowned when she turned it over and realized that there was no defining seal on it.
More than a little curious, wondering how in the seven hells it ended up in her basket, Maliya unrolled the paper, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping when she realized that the letter was written in High Valyrian.
She actually looked around the bedchambers in shock, as if expecting there to be someone else in the room watching her, as if she needed to hide it. She had chosen to learn the language of her ancestors at around her tenth nameday, something that her father and uncle had chosen to support, but there weren't many people who knew that fact. So how was it that a letter written in a language that nobody learned or spoke anymore ended up among her things? Slowly sitting back on the bed, her heart pounding in both excitement and anticipation, she began to read.
Greetings,
I write to congratulate you on your marriage to the Young Wolf - such a union has never been attempted since a pact made of ice and fire back in the day. You'll be pleased to hear that your aunt and uncle across the sea are faring well and have developed a new interest in horses.
Don't be discouraged by the bitter cold of the north. Dragons have been known to survive the ice and the snow and you can do the same. If you're ever feeling lost, trust in your instincts to guide you.
I'm sure I will be in contact again soon.
Your loyal friend and supporter
Maliya sat there, reading and rereading the letter over and over again, slowly realizing that the letter that had accidently ended up in her basket had been meant for her after all. They knew about her marriage to the Young Wolf, which was apparently Robb's nickname. And they mentioned dragons, which she didn't think was a coincidence. But who in the seven hells was her 'aunt and uncle across the sea?' Did her father and uncle know who they were? And if so, why didn't they tell her?
But it was the line about a pact of ice and fire that really made her pause. It was a line that she thought she had heard somewhere, and she closed her ees, desperately trying to wrack her brain and remember when it suddenly came to her. It was the night of the library tower fire - her eyes flew open – from one of the books she had grabbed and hid in Lord Stark's office!
Stuffing the letter in her cloak pocket, she leapt up from the bed and dashed through the empty corridors, grateful that at this moment Robb was meeting with some of the townsfolk in the Great Hall to attempt to solve some of their complaints and grievances. It meant that the office was currently empty.
It took her a while to find the forgotten books and she gave a triumphant shout when she finally found the one she was looking for. Sitting on the floor, she hesitated only momentarily before hurriedly flicking through the pages, her eyes scanning the words, her hands shaking.
When she read through the part about The Pact of Ice and Fire, which turned out to be a real historical event, she felt faint, resting her head back against the bookshelf. Once again, her whole world was spinning on its head and she didn't know how to handle it.
The Pact of Ice and Fire turned out to be an alliance between House Stark and House Targaryen during the reign of Queen Rhaenyra. Her son, Prince Jacaerys flew North on his dragon Vermax to form a treaty with Lord Cregan Stark, and apparently part of the treaty involved a Targaryen Princess marrying into the Stark family. While at the time there was no Princess in line, Maliya herself had unknowingly fulfilled the pact.
Which no one else would have known, except… except for someone that knew her real identity. Stunned, horrifed and scared, Maliya realized that she had been wrong before – apparently there were six people in Westeros who knew who she was.
Author's Note: What did you think? Any predictions for the next chapter?
Coming up: A letter from family, Bran wakes up, and two scenes that you guys won't want to miss
Guest 1 – I agree that Ned wouldn't be subdued all that easily, but I just couldn't picture him fighting back against his scared daughter in law lol. As you probably read, your guesses are spot on! Thanks for reviewing :)
Guest 2 – Thanks for your review! Not quite yet, unfortunately!
Boramir – Loved reading your thoughts and predictions, most of them were correct! I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you liked this one just as much!
Guest 3 – Thanks for reviewing! I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, but they're just too much fun to write : )
Guest 4 – Sorry, don't hate me! I think we can agree that at the moment Maliya is not really thinking too well, but I think she understands what would happen if she killed Lord Stark!
Anna.B – Wow, that was a great review! I'm glad you like Maliya's story so far! I think she was taken by surprise by how much she's come to care for the Starks, but I also believe that she's beginning to stop fighting herself on it. As for the rest of it, Maliya is going to have quite a different storyline than Dany. I don't want my addition of Maliya to mean that she gets everything that Dany is supposed to have, she's going to forge her own path and receive her own followers. But I appreciated reading all your thoughts and I hope you liked this chapter just as much!
Marvelmyra – Thanks for your review! I seriously debated having Ned tell her about Jon's parentage but it didn't feel right to me. He has protected and guarded that secret for sixteen years now, it just seemed odd that he would spill the beans to a Targaryen that he's only known for a few months. She had just kept a secret from him as well, so he's not sure that he can trust her with the information. All will be reveal in due time!