Minisa III

Winterfell, 297 AC

"...m'lady?"

Minisa's mind came back to reality after a moment or two of being lost in her thoughts. "I...forgive me, what were you saying?"

"I asked if you liked my prototype." The mason held up the small clay statue he was carrying and brought it closer to her. "There are just a few small details here and there that need to be defined, but the final result will basically be the same. I can make a new one, though, if you don't like it."

She looked at the object. It was a reproduction of her father's body and sword, something the mason had made just to give them a preview of what he was working on. House Stark's ancient customs dictated that, once the ruling lord died, a statue of him had to be placed upon his tomb in the crypts. Her mother had commissioned one right after the raven from the maester of Storm's End had arrived with its dreadful news.

My lady, it pains me to inform you of your lord husband's passing...

"Hmm..." She wasn't an expert, but she could tell that the mason had done a good job. The small statue resembled her father in every single detail, so much that it pained her heart to look at it. The mason had even included a draft of a direwolf, the beast's head resting on the statue's feet and a single eye looking threateningly at the world.

"It's really good. How much will it take you to finish it?"

"Little more than a week, m'lady. Just in time for the...for your lord father's return." he answered. "You don't have to worry, Lady Stark. I've been carving stones since the days of your lord grandfather, gods bless his soul, and nobody has ever complained about my work."

She nodded. Her mother and Lord Petyr had already left a few days ago for White Harbor, where her father's bones would soon arrive escorted by Uncle Ned and Aunt Lya. She would make sure to have everything ready in time for their return at Winterfell.

"Very well, I have nothing else to ask you. Just remember to keep me informed." she dismissed him.

The mason nodded. "Of course, Lady Stark." he said before bowing and leaving the solar.

Lady Stark. People other than her family had always called her that. However, now those words carried a completely different meaning, and she would have to get used to it as soon as possible.

Before, she was simply a great lord's daughter and heir. Now, her father was dead, and she was the Lady of Winterfell, with everything that role entailed. For now the actual ruling would be done by a regency council, but one day the responsibility would be entirely hers and Edwyle's. The thought of ruling scared her, but Minisa knew that there would always be people helping her. Her mother, her uncles. Edwyle, of course, both now and after their marriage. And Lord Petyr, too. Her mother's childhood friend had proven to be a very kind man and a comforting presence, and had offered to stay at Winterfell as long as they needed him. Her mother had promptly accepted, glad to have another familiar face to help her cope with the grief.

Gods knew how much they all needed help. Arya was too young to understand what was going on, but Berena and Alysanne weren't that lucky. Neither were the other inhabitants of the castle and of the winter town. It was as if a cloak of sadness had descended on them all. Her father had always garnered much love among his smallfolk, especially the women. The mourning would last for a long time.

Minisa had wept like never before at hearing the news, and a part of her didn't want to accept the new reality. Her father, that tall, bearded man that had always been a constant presence throughout all her life, was now dead. His many responsibilities hadn't allowed him to spend as much time with her as she would have liked, and sometimes, when something angered him, or when he had an argument with her mother, he had been a frightening sight to behold. But he was...had been her father, and Minisa had loved him with all of her heart.

She couldn't let him down by spending her days moping. Although now she wanted nothing more than lay on her bed, hug her pillow tight and cry all her pain on it, she had to be strong. She was a Stark of Winterfell, a wolf of the north. And wolves were anything but fragile little things. It wouldn't be easy, but she knew she could do it. She would do her best for her people.

And she would do something for Torrhen, too, she decided. Years ago she had promised to help him get a better life, and now that she was the Lady of Winterfell she had the power to do such a thing.

I will make you proud of me, Father.

After leaving the solar, she briefly returned to her chambers, where the serving girls had prepared her a bath. Then, she went to the Great Hall for supper. It was mostly a sullen affair, but Uncle Bryn managed to make Minisa and her sisters smile a little by telling them a couple of funny stories about her mother's childhood at Riverrun.

And after that, her day ended. She wished her sisters and Uncle Bryn goodnight, and went back to her room, hoping to get a good night's sleep.

However, after she had changed into her nightgown and dismissed the serving girls, something happened. She was about to lay on her bed, when suddenly the candles that lit her room went out, and Minisa found herself surrounded by darkness.

She shrieked, then, a couple of deep breaths later, she calmed down. I mustn't panick. She wasn't a child anymore, there was nothing to be afraid of. She just had to call for someone, and the light would return.

A strange noise from her left caught her attention just when she was about to open her mouth. Minisa turned, and something heavy hit her on her head, making her loose consciousness.

She came to after a while. She blinked her eyes a few times and moaned. What had happened? Had she somehow tripped over something and hit her head somewhere? She made to move, only then realizing that her hands and feet were bound tightly by ropes. She also noticed she was in a dusty and small room, lit only by the flickering light of a tiny candle.

"What...where am I?" What kind of place was that? Why wasn't she in her room? A cold shiver went up her spine as a dark thought crept into her mind. What if she had been kidnapped?

"Where am I? Please, somebody...somebody answer me!"

Just then, the door to the room opened. Minisa held her breath as a dark shape appeared on the threshold. Was that her kidnapper?

"You're awake. About fucking time." Wait, what...she knew that voice. But...how could it be? He would never do such a thing. She must have misheard.

The dark shape stepped into the room, finally coming into view. Minisa gasped. No...it couldn't be...

"Torrhen?"

AN: What an inglorious bastard.