CYEL

"Just a little higher" Cyel said to two servants who were hanging a wreath of blue roses around the entrance, while she was weaving another.

Everyone in Winterfell had been very busy since the arrival of a crow from the South to announce the imminent visit of the King and his family, after the death of the Hand of the King and Lord of the Eyrie, Jon Arryn.

Cyel had never met the Warden of the Est, but she knew that he was the man who took care of her Lord Stark in his youth. Eddard Stark had been sent at the Eyrie at young age and Lord Arryn became a father figure to him and Robert Baratheon, who was Lord Stark's closest friend before becoming King. That was a story well known to her ears, and the Stark children's.

Cyel couldn't stop feeling sorry for her Lord. She knew what it meant growing up in a foreign land and yet feeling at home. She could just imagine how painful losing an important part of your past must had felt like.

Cyel arrived in Winterfell at the age of four and even at that time the huge castle was very busy; even though not for her arrival. Just the morning before Cyel walked through the stone door of Winterfell, Lady Catelyn had given birth to Brandon, the fourth and the sweetest of the Stark children.

She still remembered well her first day in the North, even if she was so young back then. The summer snow was covering the field, the cold wind was blowing against her cheeks and the light mist was giving an almost magical atmosphere to her surroundings.

Everything was so different from Dorne, and yet she could not help but feel herself grown attracted to the North. Maybe it was the landscape or the people, so different from any other that she had met. And even though she was nervous, she felt immediately at home. Her mother told her that it was normal though.

Her father could have been prince Oberyn Martell but lady Phelya Rosemberg, Cyel's mother, was a noble woman who belonged to a lower house of the North. Their castle was very far from Winterfell, it was near Brandon's Gift, not so far from the Wall. But still, the Rosemberg House had been very loyal to the Starks since they were Kings in the North.

In your veins flows the blood of the far South and of the far North, do not forget that, her mother always told her. Maybe that was the reason why Cyel had never felt a stranger in the North. Even though she sometimes would think fondly about the welcoming and warm sun of Dorne and her father's embraces.

It hadn't been easy for Oberyn Martell to let Phelya took Cyel North. Even if her father was known for being ruthless, and vindictive, he would have given the world for his daughters. Cyel had eight sisters, step-sisters actually, each of them was a Sand. Sand was in fact the name given to the bastards of Dorne, like Snow in the North. And since her mother and father had never married, Cyel name couldn't be Martell.

"Is that alright lady Sand?" Cyel smiled at the servant girl, Mirana.

"It's perfect" even though she was a Sand and in fact a bastard, in Dorne bastards weren't different from legitimate children. They have rights and they were included in the line of succession. And even if she wasn't in Dorne her father was a prince and that gave her a position in the Seven Kingdoms. That was the reason why they called her Lady.

But her name was not enough to appease her father. Oberyn Martell did not trust very much people of Seven Kingdoms, because of what had happened to his sister Elia Martell during King Robert's Rebellion.

Cyel's aunt, Elia was Raeghar Targeryen's wife and she died killed by a man of the Lannisters. Phelya tried to reassure Oberyn that Northerners were different from the people in the South, but he wanted to be sure that his daughter would have been threated with respect. Because of this, he proposed to the Lords of Winterfell an arrangement and if they had accepted, he would have let Cyel go with her mother.

At the right age, Cyel would have to marry one of the Stark boys. Even though Lord Stark never liked arranged marriages, both he and his wife accepted the it. Cyel had possessions in the South and whoever would have married her, would have become a Lord of Dorne and would have had the Martells as allies.

From what her mother have told her, she surely would have married one of the Stark boys, even though she didn't know who her husband would have been yet. Lord Stark preferred for his children to know love, especially in time of peace, so the Starks let Cyel and Phelya stay in Winterfell to not separate the mother form the daughter and even because of the friendship between the Lord and Phelya, who had spent many years of her youth to Winterfell before the war. It was normal for a young lady to spend the majority of her youth in others Lords' castles as their ward, to learn how to be a proper lady. So, since their first day in Winterfell, her mother had become Catelyn Stark's court lady and Cyel had become Antea's.

"This is a quite good job, Cyel" hearing Lady Catelyn's voice, Cyel stood up bowing her head.

"Gratitude, my Lady" Cyel had always admired Lady Stark, she was a perfect lady and very loved form her people. She hoped that one day she could have become as good as her to run a castle. But she couldn't deny to feel a bit under pressure when she spent time with her Lady. She always studied her and paid attention to her every move. Cyel didn't complained though, she wanted to learn after all.

She still remembered the first time she met Lady Catelyn Stark. She had given birth to her fourth son just the day before, but she looked beautiful, like a lady from the stories and she looked at Cyel like she expected a lot from her. Since that day, Cyel had tried her best to impress her Lady, who had been always very strict with her but very caring at the same time.

"How is your lady mother feeling today?" Lady Catelyn asked looking at the roses on the table.

Phelya got ill a couple of months before. Her fever never seems to go away and she always felt very weak. She and her daughter tried to convince their Lords to let them go in Thornhill, Rosembergs' caslte, because they didn't want to be a bother to their host, who had always been so kind to them. But Lord and Lady Stark had insisted for them to remain in Winterfell, where Maester Luwin would have took good care of lady Phelya.

"You are part of the family" Lord Stark told them.

Cyel couldn't be more grateful to her Lords. They let Maester Luwin take care of her mother every single day, even if he didn't seem to understand what was wrong with her.

"She slept tonight, my Lady" Cyel answered looking at her, who nodded with a sorry look on her face.

"I shall visit her, later" Lady Catelyn had always visited Phelya, every day, but with the King's arrival she had been so busy that she couldn't.

"I like how you've arranged these decorations. They are pretty" the Lady said brushing delicately the petals of the flowers, before turning to Cyel "I need you to look after the gardens, now."

"If it pleases my Lady."

Cyel felt so honored to help with the arrangements for the arrival. In fact, she and Antea had been chosen to help. At first both girls were happy to not attend Septa Mordane's lessons, but now they didn't understand why they've complained about them for all those years.

Running a castle was stressful and hard, even for someone like Cyel who had always liked to make things pretty.

But doing it for fun was a different story.

Now everything had to be as perfect as it could possibly be and Lady Stark was very careful at everything they did. But Cyel had a secret weapon, when Sansa had the time, she asked the young lady for her opinion. Sansa was as strict as her mother and she was really honest.

"I like these wreaths as well" Lady Catelyn said "You could hang some of them in the gardens" Cyel smiled.

"I will" and immediately she started to pick up some roses, helped by two servants, and after bowing her head she walked to the gardens.

Winterfell was huge and wonderful; its walls were tall and warm and everyone seemed so happy. The Starks were very kind to all of their people, noble and not. She spent all her life playing in those yards with the Stark children and others kids who lived in Winterfell. Cyel always loved play in the snow, they had so much fun running on white fields chasing each other.

"Are you sure it is safe for you to be up there?" she was hanging one end of the wreaths on the entrance of the castle. Cyel look down and she saw Robb Stark looking at her with a big smile on his face.

"I am, my lord, but I appreciate you're kind concern" she replied making him laugh, making some servants and guards turn towards them. They were used to it though.

Every time Cyel and Robb talked in the yards, people would look at them. The two of them were used to it and they always made jokes about that. They knew about the arrangement, but Cyel knew that it was highly improbable for them to marry. He was the future Lord of Winterfell, after all. She may be a Lady but she still was a bastard in the name. Even though Robb was a great young man and every girl would have been lucky to have him. He was surely handsome, a great warrior and very funny. He had always made her laugh since the very first day. He was so different from Jon Snow. Jon was quiet and shy and he always seemed to study everyone and everything around him.

She noticed it the first time she met the Stark children. Robb was so outspoken and funny, he immediately treated her like a part of the family; Jon was silent at first, very silent. It took a little while for him to talk openly to her.

It was nice talking to Jon Snow once he opened up; he loved his brothers and he was always happy around them. Even though when he was alone, he looked always a bit pencive and melancholic. The only times Cyel saw him always happy were when princess Cassandra Baratheon was in Winterfell. Jon and Cassie had always appreciated eachother's company, surprisingly undertanding one another.

"Have you seen Antea?" Robb asked her "I haven't seen her all day."

Cyel always noticed the love that connected all the Starks, they had always been together. Lord and Lady Stark didn't send them away to learn their duties in other Houses, they had always lived their lives in Winterfell. She often thought that she would have liked to spend more time with her sisters in Sunspear. Tyenne though, wrote her every week telling her what was happening in Dorne. Cyel and her sisters may be not as close as the Starks were, but they loved each other. Even her older sister Obara wrote her every once in a while.

"I think she was supposed to be in the main hall" she replied jumping on the ground accepting the hand that Robb was offering her.

"By your tone I understand that you do not wish for me to go'" he said without stop smiling. Cyel laughed patting Grey Wind's head, Robb's direwolf. Since they had found those puppies, they never separate from them. It was like they shared a bond with those creatures.

"She was trying to hide" Cyel explained thinking about her friend's idea of hiding in Winterfell crypts, so no one would have found her "And I'm surre you will help her escape."

"You know me so well, my lady!" Robb said putting a hand on his chest. Cyel shook her head with a smile.

"Well, if you go there, I didn't tell you anything" she said putting her hands on her hips.

"Told me what?" he answered with a smirk. She nodded knowingly, he never failed her.

"Thank you, my lord" Robb smiled a last time before patting Grey Wind's head.

"I'll see you later" he said starting to walk to the castle, with is direwolf behind him "Do not tire yourself."

Too late, Cyel thought returning to her duties.

It has been another hour of interwine wreaths, make more space in the yards and make everything look perfect. She was hoping that the King's visit would have passed soon so, that everything would have come back to normal.

"Here you are!" Cyel turned to look at a pissed Theon Greyjoy make his way in the gardens, rapidly marching towards her. Something must have made him very mad, but she always found his angry face funny, so she tried to hide a small smile.

"Where is he?" Cyel frowned in surprise and confusion.

"Who?" Theon rolled his eyes, becoming even more pissed by her words. It was a normality for the two of them to bicker, since their very first encounter they never stopped.

They've always felt comfortable with each other and sometimes Cyel thought that it was because their similar situation. They were both wards of Lord Stark and away from their own home.

She remembered the first time she had learnt that Theon was in fact a hostage, and not a guest like she was. Cyel had been so surprised. He studied with the Starks, hunt, trained, ate and played with the Starks, it was so strange. The Starks didn't treat him like a prisoner, it was like he was part of their family, so it was easy to forget the circumstances that had led him to Winterfell.

"Your little friend, Cyel. Where is he?" Now she knew who he was talking about.

"Why should I know where Bran is?" She asked turning her back to him, to hide a smile.

"You always know where he is" Theon answered after letting out a small growl. And that was true. Cyel always knew where Bran was. He was special to her, but still Bran was special to everyone who met him. He was a sweet boy yet stubborn. And he was very easy to laugh and impossible not to love.

She remembered when Antea took her to meet her new little brother. He was there in his mother's arms and he had looked at her for all the time she stayed in the room. His eyes weren't changed much after all those years. And growing, the two of them became friends easily and spent a lot of time together.

"Well, apparently I don't this time" she said turning back to look at Theon who studied her face to try to find out if she was lying. He of course knew that she was, as well as he knew that Cyel would have never spoken.

"You know I will find him" Theon said after a minute of silence. Cyel shrugged her shoulders with a knowing look.

"I know you'll try" Cyel followed his steps with her gaze as he stormed away, and when she was sure he was gone Cyel walked to one of the trees in the yard. It was the tallest of all and looking above her, she spoke.

"You can come out now, Bran" immediately Bran appeared in front of her upside down, looking at her with a surprised expression.

"How did you know?"

"I know you" she answered. The boy looked at her for a moment before climbing down from the tree. Cyel had watched him climb a million times, sometimes they even climbed together, but Bran was very good at it, far, far better then she could have ever been, and she was always impressed.

"What have you done this time?" she asked Bran with her hands on her hips and an amused look on her face.

"Nothing" he said while his direwolf run to them, but he could see she didn't believe him "A prank" Bran admitted at the end.

"I cannot believe it!" she exclaimed shaking her head "You did it without me? I'm offended, my lord" Bran smiled immediately and she soon did the same.

"I did try to find you" he said shifting from a foot to the other "But you are so busy these days." Indeed, she hadn't spent much time with Bran or his sisters lately, and she was very sorry about that.

"I know" she said nodding lightly "But the King is coming, we need to make a good impression." Bran looked at his feet. He must have been bored, they all always played together, but now no one had the time.

"Tell me" Cyel said trying to make him smile again "How are you happy that King's guards are coming here?" his face lighted up immediately. Bran's dream was to be a knight. He knew everything about knights, he knew the story of each one of them.

"I am so happy!" he exclaimed making her smile "I can't believe it! I will see real knights!" In the North there weren't Knights, for them a man could have honor without been called Ser.

Bran didn't want to be just a Knight, he wanted to be a Kings Guard, the guards who protected the King and when they took the vow, they gave up lands and marriage. She looked at him and always felt sorry because even Bran could have become her husband one day and if he did, he would have had to give up his dream.

But that day was still distant, for now they were just children.

"Cyel" Cyel looked behind her back and saw Lady Catelyn waiting for her.

"I have to go" he looked at his mother's direction too and pouting he spoke again.

"Can you not spend a little more time with me?" she would have liked it very much, but sadly she couldn't.

"I'm so sorry Bran."

Bran turn to his direwolf with a scoff. Cyel looked quickly at Lady Catelyn, who was observing the two of them, still waiting for the girl to go to her.

"What if…" at her words Bran looked at her "As soon as I've done here, I'll come looking for you so we'll spend some time together, is that alright?" he glanced at her before smiling again and nodding.

"Yes, it is alright" Cyel smiled at him when he started running away with his direwolf towards the Godswood.

She kept her promise and once she had done with the arrangements Cyel spent the rest of the day with Bran and his direwolf. He didn't have a name yet, Bran wanted to find the right one.

The evening arrived soon though, and she run to spend time with her mother, she would have had dinner with her, just the two of them. She loved spending time with the Starks, but it was nice to have some alone time with Phelya. Her mother was everything to her, she was Cyel's closest friend. Phelya was always happy, even now that she was sick. Sometimes Cyel thought that she was acting but her mother had this beautiful quality of seeing always the best in every situation.

"How are you feeling?" Cyel asked hiding her worry, giving a plate to her mother. She always brought meals to her, she was her mother after all, she was supposed to look after her. It was so sad looking at Phelya in that period, she was pale and there were dark circles under her usually happy blue eyes.

"The Maester was relieved. The fever is slowly going away" at her words Cyel couldn't help but smile, bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

"Truly?" if it was a dream, she prayed the Old and the New Gods to not wake her up.

"Mother this is wonderful!" she exclaimed hugging her mother who started laughing lightly. Cyel didn't know how much they stood like that, but she didn't care, she was just so happy. In the last few months, she tried to stay strong for both of them, but even if she tried to take her mind busy, she couldn't help but worry. But now Phelya was getting better and that was the best news of the day.

"So, how's my sun today?" Phelya asked, patting her bed, telling her daughter to come and eat in bed with her, under the covers.

"Very tired" Cyel laughed sweetly taking a bite of her meal "I think I'm going to fall asleep on the plate". She was tired, but that day had been wonderful and she couldn't wait for the next to help her Lords again.

"If you are so tired than you cannot open your present" her mother said with a playful smirk on her face and Cyel smiled immediately. Her father must had sent her something from Dorne. It was frequent for Oberyn Martell to send his daughter gifts every now and then, just to let her know that she was in his thoughts and with them there was usually a poetry for her and he was able to make her cry every time.

Cyel usually traveled to South once a year, but now with her mother in that condition, she didn't want to leave her, and even if now she was healing, Phelya had to rest and recover, anything else could wait.

"Maester Luwin left it when he came" Maester Luwin was a sweet old man, when he wasn't teaching them, in those occasions he was a bit scary, even more than Septa Mordane… well no, maybe not. No one was as scary as Septa Mordane.

Cyel took the box that her mother was giving her and with careful moves she opened it. Her father gave her a dress. It was beautiful white with small orange embroidery who seemed to dance all around the gown.

"Gods it's beautiful" she murmured looking at the fabric in her hands, she couldn't wait to show it to Sansa. The lady loved Cyel's dresses, but unfortunately Sansa couldn't wear them because she was far taller than Cyel. Once with her and Antea, they tried to make Arya wear one of Cyel's dresses, but the wild lady had run away from the chamber leaving them behind laughing. Arya was so different from all of them. Phelya always told her that Arya reminded her of Lyanna Stark, Lord Eddard's sister. The wildness must had run in Starks' blood, even Rickon who was still three had great fierceness in him.

"I think I'm going to wear this for the King's arrival" she could feel her mother looking at her with a smile.

"I think you should" Cyel caressed her new dress once again.

Even though she missed her father and her sisters every day, she was glad she had her mother and the Starks beside her. Cyel had never felt like an intruder in that castle and she had never felt unhappy or alone, not even once, and she would have always been grateful to her Lords for all the care they gave to her. She would have never forgotten that.