It's a little hard to get used to Winterfell, but once she does, she starts to see why her father always spoke highly of it, despite the fact he had never lived in it. Probably never visited either.
Cerelle sees her first summer snow when she's been living there for almost three weeks.
She remembers some of the only winter she lived, but in King's Landing snow was not something one saw much, not even in winter, so for her it's something very new.
"It's...wet," she says, lifting her skirts and frowning at her boots.
"Relle, snow is water," Lalia says, sitting in a bench close to her.
"I know, but I didn't expect it to melt so easily." She laughs, seeing the hem of her dress ruined by mud.
"It's just a summer snow. Winter snows can fall until you're buried deep down." A deep voice says from behind her, and when she turns around, Robb is there.
"Good morning, Robb!" Cerelle beams at him.
"Your Grace, My Lady." He bows his head, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "My mother sent me to tell you that your new clothes arrived early this morning."
"Really?! Lalia! I can train now!"
"I can't believe you didn't realize you didn't have trousers until a week ago" Lalia rises from the bench, dusting off her dress.
"I was busy. We were busy."
A little while after she arrived, she has started to get to know Winterfell a little better. She had asked every Stark child to show her something of Winterfell and so she had been led through the crypt, through the Maester's tower, through the Godswood. Not every day she got to do it and so she spent many days sewing, sitting through lessons with the Stark children and relearning many things she had already learned.
She had even gone to the little winter town just outside Winterfell's walls. It was small, much, much smaller than King's Landing. She wandered around, Lalia and Ser Aedan close by.
Robb and Theon had offered to show her around the town, but she had refused both, as she preferred to see around on her own. Lalia was pretty good with orientation, and so she had been left the task of making sure the princess was not lost. Usually, ser Aedan would have been responsible for it, but neither girl had promised not to wander off as they usually did when they went into King's Landing.
Next on her list is the Wolfswood, but it's not an urgent matter. It's not like she's going away anytime soon.
The trousers fit her like a glove and in no time she's outside, picking a training sword and swinging it around to get used to the feeling of it after so long without touching one.
"You up for a fight, my lady?" Ser Aedan asks from a few feet away.
"Always," she says, fixing her stance.
Back at King's Landing, Ser Aedan was not sworn to her until a few days before she left and even then, he spent most of the journey close to Dala as she was supposed to be her.
If something was to happen, however, he was to leave Dala alone and run to Cerelle. The princess was the top priority in safety matters.
Never had she fought against him, but she had watched him here in Winterfell.
She was lean, and it worked in her favor. Sir Aedan was good, he had to be if he was to protect her, and she honestly was impressed with how long she could hold her own against him, since she hadn't held a sword in almost two moons.
"Round two," she says as she picks up the training sword from where it fell when she was disarmed.
Eline helps her wash her hair before supper, pouring scented oils on her skin and hair before helping her dress.
"I missed the ache that comes from training," she says to Lalia as they go down the stairs from her room.
"Doesn't surprise me. You never stood still for long. Almost two moons were too much for you."
"I know. Ser Aedan was as good as Mother said he was."
"Your breathing is getting better, isn't it?"
"It is. Maybe the cold did help some. I haven't had an attack here."
"So, Princess. I couldn't help but be interested when I saw you this afternoon, very happy training with your sworn sword." Theon smirks from a few seats away.
"Oh, yes. I hadn't even held a sword since I left King's Landing, Ser Aedan was more than willing to help me get back into shape." She smiles at him, taking a bite from her meal.
"Tell me, just how good are you with bow and arrows?"
"Better than with a spear, that's for sure, but not as good as with a sword."
"Well, you should know we Greyjoys are known for our archery skills. That and lovema—"
"Theon, enough." Lady Catelyn cuts him off with a glare from her seat beside her husband. On Lord Stark's other side, Robb is raising an eyebrow in the same way his father is doing.
"Just stating facts, my lady." Theon raises his hands, lifting an eyebrow in the princess' direction with a cocky glint in his eyes.
"Tomorrow, before noon." Cerelle nods, lifting her cup to her lips.
"You Baratheons never back down from a challenge," Lord Stark says, smiling in her direction.
She can only shrug.
The next morning after breakfast, in the bridge that overlooks the courtyard, Lord and Lady Stark together with their youngest children and Lalia watch over Cerelle and Theon, while Jon and Robb watch from the sides.
"Best out of ten?" Theon walks to her, two bows on his hands. The arrows are stuck in the ground in front of them.
"Seems fair." She nods, grabbing the bow he's offering to her.
"Ladies first, then," he says as he bows, stepping aside.
"Go, Cerelle!" she hears Rickon and Bran yell as she picks one of the arrows, and then Arya "Kick his butt, princess!"
She takes a deep breath as she looks at the mark, nocking the arrow before drawing and letting loose quickly.
A few fingers away from bullseye.
"Your turn, Greyjoy." She smirks, sweeping her braid from her shoulder to her back.
"It was luck, princess," he says as he looks at her arrow.
Eight turns later, she's losing by two.
"Did I ever tell you how I learned?"
"No, I don't think so." Theon grits his teeth, nocking his ninth arrow "Was it your Master at Arms in your great palace?"
"No, it was a man from Joffrey's last name day tournament," she says as he draws, making him lower the bow.
"What?"
"Well, I wanted to lean, so I went with the best there was around." She shrugs and Theon goes back to pointing the bow.
"Sometimes I can't believe you're a princess."
"Yeah, it happe...ha…" Cerelle grabs her chest, her other hand letting go of the bow, which falls to the ground at her feet.
She's literally breathless, gasping for air. She knows what is happening. Maybe talking about it out loud brought it on, ridiculous as it sounds.
"Princess?" Jon asks, turning around from where he and Robb are watching Theon and taking a few steps towards her.
"I…" she starts to speak but finds herself unable to get the words out. Her chest starts to tighten, a wheeze leaving her lips as she tries and fails to breathe.
"She's having an attack!" She hears Lalia scream, almost like she was far, far away.
"What do we do?!" She hears Jon, as he steps closer to her, catching her as her legs fail her.
"What?" She hears Robb "What's happening?"
"Take her to the Maester, for fuck's sake!" Lord Stark barks, and she can feel someone sweeping her off her feet.
She starts to feel desperation, not being able to breathe.
"Her lips are turning blue!" Jon says and she can feel as he runs as fast as he can while carrying someone her size.
"Maester Luwin will know what to do!" Lalia says from somewhere behind them, the rest of the Starks with her.
By then, she's too far gone, clawing at her chest to try and get some air in it, wheezing in her attempts. She doesn't know what they are saying anymore.
Robb is ahead of them, running up the stairs of the Maester's Tower.
"Maester Luwin!" he shouts, knocking on the door of his study before pushing it open. There's no one there.
Robb turns on his heels and runs back down the stairs, where he almost runs into Jon.
"He's not in there. Where's Cerelle?" He takes one second to catch his breath before starting to run again, Jon by his side this time.
"I left her in one of the rooms. Robb, wait! Lalia knew what to do, she's helping Cerelle until the Maester comes."
"What if he doesn't?!" Robb doesn't turn around, just keep running.
"Robb! Everyone saw what happened!" That makes him stop. "They'll tell the Maester and he'll come here! You're just going to be running in circles. Go and keep the princess company. Help Lalia."
"I…alright, but if something happens…"
"Nothing will happen." Jon grips his shoulder with bruising force before going back with him.
Cerelle passes out at some point, and by the time she comes to her senses again, probably just a few seconds later, the Maester is sitting close to her and the smell of the mix Lalia always uses on her is strong in the air.
"Princess Cerelle," the Maester calls for her, and she turns to look at him slowly. "You are very lucky that your friend here knew what to do in these kinds of attacks."
"Lalia's always been there for me," she says, just a little breathless and very much tired. She notices that the only people in the room apart from her and the Maester are Arya, Robb and Lalia.
"These attacks, they're not from being born premature." Maester Luwin is looking at a parchment, but he looks up when he speaks to them.
"No. The fever she had as a baby, it left these consequences. They just...happen," Lalia answers for her. She never liked when she talked too much after an attack.
"Wheezing fever. The best we can do now is let her rest." the Maester nods.
She likes him, this Maester. There's something kind on him, something that makes her trust him. Perhaps it helps that his chain is heavy with medicine links.
"I don't want to leave her!" Arya says, standing up from the chair she was sitting in.
"Arya, she always feels tired after an attack." Lalia tries to talk her out of it, but Cerelle knows the look on Arya's face. If she's honest, she's had it on her own face several times.
"It's okay. They can stay," Cerelle speaks. Her voice sounds weird, but she's used to it after so many years.
"I had never heard my father curse before," Arya says after Maester Luwin leaves, sitting at her side on the bed.
"He was really scared. We all were," Robb speaks, coming to stand behind Arya.
"I guess it can be scary if you've never seen it," she mumbles, looking at her feet. Someone took the time to take off her muddy boots.
"Mother had to take Rickon away, he was crying so hard."
"Why don't you tell him I'm fine? I want to rest for a little before seeing anyone else." She smiles to Arya, who nods before leaving.
"We were worried," Lalia says from her spot near the window. "It was one of your worst. You hadn't passed out since so long."
"I know. I am worried. You know it can get worse."
"What? What are you talking about?" Robb asks, now sitting in the spot Arya left.
"Soon after I was born, I caught a fever. A maid had it," Cerelle starts to explain.
"Some thought it was intentional." Lalia sighs, turning to face them.
"The Wheezing Fever is hard to fight, and it didn't help I was born two moons before I was supposed to. I almost died more than once in that week." Cerelle keeps going. "And it...kind of never goes away. I have these attacks where I can't breathe. Sometimes it's just hard and sometimes it's impossible."
"We can't catch it because she's not...she's not sick anymore. These problems are just...consequences." Lalia shrugs, waving her hand and frowning. They're never really sure how to explain what happens to her.
"What you did, it helps her?"
"It's the only way of stopping an attack we have."
"Then I want to learn."