"Where are you going?" Aly asked, peeking around the corner of her mother's door. "You're leaving again?"
The Lioness looked up at her daughter and shrugged. "Yes," she said bluntly, nearly coldly. The young Aly looked at her mother, and managed not to cry. By the age of seven she had began to understand that her mother was not like other mothers; not the kind of person to sing her only daughter to sleep after a nightmare.
Aly resented her.
"To court Mama?" she asked, and walked around the corner, her feet cold on the flagstone floor. Dressed in only a night gown, Aly was shivering and rubbed her arms. It was not the brightest idea. Not with the snow coming down outside.
Alanna sniffed at her daughter's dress, not saying a word; if her daughter wanted to be stupid about her attire, than she would learn the hard way.
Again, Aly resented her.
"No, Aly, not to court, I don't go to court, remember?" Aly nodded softly and looked down.
"I miss Uncle Jon…" she pouted, and looked down. "And Liam, he's fun to play with and Aunt-"Alanna cut her off.
"Stop it Aly, I won't have pouting at this hour." Her eyes were tired, and she was rubbing at the sore scars in her hands, mostly ignoring that her daughter's feet were growing cold.
"Yes Mama," Aly whispered eyes down, and her hair hanging in her face. "But where are you going? Does Da know why?"
Alanna looked up and nodded. "Your father knows," she whispered sternly, as if angry about something. Her eyes had purple fire in them they only had when she was either sad, angry or killing someone. "I'm going to the Bloody Hawk," she whispered and threw another tunic into her bag and pants to follow it. "It's warmer there." Aly looked up, about to cry, but nodded.
"Can I go with," she managed to peep. Alanna looked down, a curious expression on her face.
A confused one, none of her children had ever asked to go with her to the Great Desert, she never figured that one of them would, and if one did it would be Alan… once he earned his shield, but now her daughter.
"No Aly, stay here with your Da." She stood up and smiled. "I leave in the morning… let's have eggs for breakfast, two of them? Your favorite way, yoke up?" Aly shook her head, in no mood to be babied.
"No thank you mother," she whispered sadly, and scampered off to her room, feeling a terrible pain in her gut.
The next morning, she was to sick to wish her mother good bye.
Aly sat with Alan on her left and Thom on her right at dinner, watching her parents. They were having a row, and Alanna seemed to be the storm, and her poor da, the receiving party.
"I can't believe you did that!" The Lioness growled. "How could you possible do that? Do you know how dangerous that was?"
Aly lowered her head, taking another bite of her venison steak and watched her mother, tears welling up in her eyes, and her father silently sat there and took it.
His hands were folded beneath his chin, and he watched his wife. Aly, supposed that being here after the first snow was making her mother angry and she was taking it out on whomever she could.
"Honestly George, teaching a seven year old girl to throw knives! She could have hit someone! She nearly hit me! Who's next, Alan or Thom?"
"Mother I-"Aly started and received a death glare from the legendary purple eyes of the Lioness.
"And you! If you know skills don't use it until you've practiced! You might hurt yourself!" She was roaring, and then looked down at her dinner.
Alanna shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with sitting still and having pent up energy. She finally threw her napkin onto the stew and got up, leaving.
Aly watched her mother go, a sad look on her small face, her lips drawn into a frown. Tears finally began to fall, and Alan, her twin was about to cry too. He hated when she made him do that. Cry because she did.
"I hate you Aly," he whispered and got up, leaving. Thom shifted uncomfortably, and then finally left, to go talk to his mother.
Aly and George sat alone at the dinner table, silently eating their meals before they grew cold like the rest of the family's. Aly looked up, trying to see her father's emotion rather than the mask he now wore.
"Da…" she began softly, her voice squeaky. George Copper shook his head, unable to look at his daughter.
"Not now Aly," he whispered, and got up.
He too left Aly alone.