𝗔 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗜𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲
𝗔 𝗚𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀
𝗦𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝟭 𝗘𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝟭
𝟮𝟵𝟴 𝗔𝗖

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗛 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗪𝗢𝗟𝗙
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗘𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻

"𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗟𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀"

"This is truly a gift from the gods."

Above the gathered crowd the stars glowed against the blackened sky. Meteoroids whizzed by leaving trails of dust in their wake. Rosalind remembered a tale Old Nan would tell of how the stars were millions of diamonds the old gods had thrown into the sky. In the darkness, she recognized the constellations Ice Dragon and Moonmaid. The former was her favorite star symbol, the twin blue gems of the dragon's eyes pointed north, whereas its tail marked south. She loved to look at it whenever the night was clear from her tower window.

"Indeed it is." She replied to Brynden.

They sat on horseback beside each other. The combined parties of Stark, Baratheon, Lannister, and guests had ridden out after midnight to a hill near Winterfell to watch the meteor shower. Maester Luwin had been eagerly anticipating its arrival and the weather forecast was perfect for viewing this evening, with not a cloud in sight. Among the starry night was the bright red wanderer. In the Faith of the Seven, it was associated with the Smith but Ros liked to think it had been a weirwood seed planted in the sky.

In the nighttime air, Ros had put on extra layers adding a grey cloak, gloves, wool lined stockings, and traded her slippers for boots. At Brynden's prompting, she rode the mare from Prince Orryn. So far it had been smooth sailing. It was the first time Rosalind sat atop and had learned that the buckskin horse was previously saddle broken. She was older than Ros had first guessed, she had turned four during the journey to the North. The young mare was described by Orryn as "zealous" and "never lacking energy". Ros was overcome with excitement at having such a well-bred horse. I should thank the Crown Prince again and write to Lord Willas Tyrell to pay my respects as well, she thought.

Her handmaids, Hilda and Faye, rode two of Rosalind's horses nearby with her sisters. They wore grey cloaks with unique embroidery that Ros had stitched herself. Various murmurs washed over the gathered people as more meteorites appeared overhead. The red wanderer stood out against the trailing streaks, it would pass through Moonmaid in the next handful of months. Previously, Ros had asked Maester Luwin about its trajectory and he was pleased with her memory of their astronomy studies.

"Look there!" Prince Orryn commented, with a hand outstretched towards the constellations of King's Crown and Stallion. A great cluster of meteors sparked across the eastern portion of the sky. Ros looked to Brynden, he was transfixed by the rare occurrence. She felt like there was something she had forgotten.

Nearby Orryn sat alongside Robb, Theon, Lucas, and Rowena. She continued to wear the floral crown and Ros thought she looked like a painting amidst the scenery. Jon approached Ros and she smiled at him. Brynden greeted him warmly.

"I'm sorry, Jon, I won't be able to compete at my best in the melee now." He said, meaning his jousting injury but Ros was surprised at this duo.

"It's alright," Jon answered, pulling his horse up in line with them. "it would have been too easy otherwise."

They laughed together and Ros was warmed at the notion that Jon and Brynden were now friends and had planned to enter the melee together. She envisioned them sparring together and taking on her twin and the Crown Prince, she was excited to see those two teams go against each other.

"Wait," Ros began to realize their words. "you aren't still entering now are you?" She asked Brynden.

"Yes, I am."

"Your shoulder!"

"The maesters did not say I was unable to swing a sword," Brynden replied with a misguided sense of reassurance.

"I hardly believe they advised you to run the risk of wounding yourself further." Ros scoffed, picking up on his boyish determination.

"Risk? What risk? I have Jon as my battle partner and I assure you, my lady, that the two of us can dance circles around the other competitors."

"Come on, Ros, you know you would do the same!" Jon pointed out and she hated admitting he was right.

"You'll have to face Robb and Prince Orryn."

"Well, thank the gods we're both better with swords than lances," Jon stated proudly. Brynden agreed with him and Ros noted their boastful attitude.

"What about Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime?" She teased. Both of them fell silent and Ros knew that the two kingsguard members would be the pick of the lot to win.

"They have yet to announce if they will be entering the melee," Brynden replied, albeit less enthusiastically.

"It would be a shame if you lost the use of that arm completely," Ros said upon recalling their meeting with the direwolves.

ᛜ

Earlier, after the jousting was all said and done she had shown Brynden and Lucas the godswood. Winterfell's heart tree was well known among the followers of the old gods. Its beauty was extraordinary and she hoped the Blackwoods adored it as much as she did. They sat in front of the pool, basking in the sight of the little forest. The wolves became aware of their presence and the three of them were swarmed by a pack of yapping, tail-wagging, over-licking, and pushy beasts. Needless to say, they were overjoyed.

Her siblings' wolves began to play with themselves and Rosalind's wolf lay between her and Brynden. Look at how she likes him, and how softly he strokes her fur, Ros had thought. In a small clearing, Lucas had disappeared underneath a pile of flailing limbs. The direwolf's tail beat the fallen leaves as Ros looked at the water. It was mostly still, a breeze disrupted the surface sending tiny ripples around. Her eyes wandered to the carved face in the tree. Fresh sap was oozing red down the bark. Suddenly, she felt aware of Brynden's gaze. She slowly turned to face him once more.

"Why do you stare?" Feeling a bit self-conscious she asked.

"I am merely looking at the most enchanting sight the gods have created." He said casually. His hands petted the abundant fur on her direwolf's neck. His eyes were so warm, so inviting, she wanted to look into them closer. Ros' pale skin flushed pink and she hastily looked away. Gods, why am I so awkward?! she demanded feeling frustrated with herself doubting anyone could be genuine at her features. He speaks these things, these nice and charming comments, is this flirting? Does he say this and more in the hopes of wooing me? I should hardly think we need to lather each other up with such honeyed words... if we're allowed to marry then this really doesn't matter and anything done before the wedding to endear me to him is unnecessary- wait, the wedding, the wedding night... after the ceremony before a heart tree, we will... we will... he will, touch-

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No." A meek retort. She thought of their kiss earlier, she felt ashamed at her burst of emotions. It was unbecoming of her. She did want to marry him, he was kind.

"What is wrong, then?" He inquired carefully. "Please know that you can tell me anything you may wish to." Brynden leaned forward, keeping one hand on the wolf his other came to rest on her hands.

Still, without looking at him she spoke quietly. "No one has," she paused, swallowing. "no one has complimented me as you do." she finished. The words said about her appearance were usually left lacking for her mannerisms and apparel choices or otherwise the obligatory affections her mother made about her.

A fit of barks led them to glance in the wolf pile's direction. Lucas was emerging from the depths as the wolves surrounded him. He walked over to the three of them with difficulty not to step on any paws.

"Thank you for introducing me to them," Lucas said. "They are marvelous animals. I'm going to watch the mead contest now, see you both later!" He called as he left, leaving them alone in the woods.

"He does know that he isn't required to leave whenever we're together, right?" Rosalind asked tentatively. She felt bad if she had given the impression that she expected her hopeful betrothed's brother to clear out whenever she was around.

"I'm sure he means to be courteous, that and he is genuinely interested in the mead-drinking," Brynden answered.

They sat in silence for a brief period. Birdsongs echoed around as the wolves rustled about. The wind in the leaves overhead cast fading patches of sun and shadow over the ground. Rosalind thought of her parents and how they acted around each other, it seemed so natural to her. Unlike the king and queen. Even Orryn and Rowena appeared fondly in observations. The image of them engaged in very intimate couplings amidst this same area flashed in her mind, what will Brynden and I look like when he takes me? Ros was unable to stop her rushing thoughts from natural curiosities. Inside her fought the involuntary twitching. She felt her face burn bright red and wished to bash her head against the tree and drown in the pool.

"Gods, if I had known my words would affect you this way," he began to speak, a look of concern spread over him. He thought her suddenly ill. "Please, forgive me for upsetting you so, I will refrain from any more torment of you. You could order a slash tied across my mouth if you wish, to give you peace of mind." He finished with an added attempt of humoring her. HIS MOUTH! Her thoughts were running wildly out of control and she immediately became aware of his hand still wrapped around her own. Is it alright to think of him in this way? I've never had these vulgar thoughts, these notions... is this normal? Normal for love? I've known him for over a year now and I trust him. Looking down at his hand on hers she felt overwhelmed.

Abruptly she stood and stepped away.

"Ros?" Brynden was confused.

"I am going to go pray!" She declared, starting to walk for the castle. Salacious.

"Pray outside the godswood?" He asked in more bewilderment.

"Yes! In the stables!" Rosalind exclaimed before beating herself up mentally. Wanton.

"The stables?!" His eyes were full of alarm but he dare not move and disturb the direwolf laying across his lap. She looked back at him sitting against a tree, his amber eyes were all too alluring in the sunlight. For a fleeting moment, she imagined herself laying in his lap looking up at him with his hands coming through her hair. Curse these dirty thoughts, dammit what is happening?

He had called an apology after her as she rushed away and did not go to the stables. Instead, she went straight for her chambers and closed the door behind her before sinking to the cool stone floor. She lay there for a while trying to calm down and regain her composure. Her thoughts were unable to form any thoughts outside of Brynden Blackwood. She was consumed with worry that it was rude to leave him in the godswood. Her newfound thoughts unnerved her. Desperately seeking to calm her mind and settle down she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

She did not know how much time passed before her door opened and her handmaids entered. They were surprised to find her lying on the floor and she had to fight their interest in calling for Maester Luwin. Without any way to explain how she came to be she simply said she had been with Lord Brynden in the godswood and soon became ill. The two of them had exchanged a look and Ros hoped they would not go to her parents or Luwin with health concerns. They helped her to her feet and Ros asked Faye to deliver a letter to Lord Blackwood. Sitting at the desk Ros hastily scribbled a short note apologizing to him saying she had a bout of sudden faintness and expressed her interest in attending the meteor shower later that night with him and everyone else. Faye's green eyes were bright with excitement at the task.

Once she departed Hilda dug out the truth of the matter from Ros. Truthfully, she had been meaning to speak to Hilda about it eventually. Not that Faye would have troubled her, but Ros felt closer to Hilda. In the uncovering of the matter, the black-haired girl was quiet and patiently listened to Ros explain what happened and left out most of her inappropriate thoughts aside from general feelings of wedding intimacy worry. Hilda had remarked that Ros was one of the most anxious people she had ever met. Knowing better than to suggest they include Lady Catelyn in the conversation, Hilda explained to Ros that this was likely arousal at some sort of sexual awakening perhaps. Rosalind had bled for nearly five years now and her mother had explained what it meant long ago, though her words had never gone beyond the basics as Ros had vomited.

ᛜ

Back in the present Rosalind became mystified by an eruption of light across the sky. It shimmered to life as curtains of colors danced overhead. Everyone's attention was focused on the splendor. Ros was smiling, filled with a great sense of wonder to have witnessed this gift from the gods.

"What is it that the Maesters call the Northern Lights?" Rosalind asked, remembering the fragments of a dream beside the black pool. She had managed to put their previous encounter in the background of her mind. She pondered over how long he sat in the godswood before leaving.

"I believe they named it the Aurora." Brynden identified, looking above. She watched him do so, thinking over the term, a foggy revelation drizzling over her.

"Aurora." Ros spoke, she looked into her direwolf's eyes as the lights were reflected in the wolf's glossy gaze.

ᛜᛜᛜᛜᛜᛜᛜ

On AO3, under the same username and story name, I have uploaded Artbreeder pictures of the four main original characters - Rosalind, Brynden, Orryn, and Rowena. Thank you all so much for reading!