"Amid such contrary winds, in a frail bark,

I find myself at sea without a tiller,

so light of wisdom, so laden with error,

that I myself do not know what I want;

and I shiver in midsummer, burn in winter."

- Petrarch

Chapter Three

Winterfell

The King was coming to Winterfell, and was now only hours away.

Caryssa was unsure how she felt about it. After all, it would mean that her father, and possibly some of her younger siblings, would have to leave Winterfell and go to King's Landing. Half the wolves would be leaving the den before winter came, and, in her opinion, that was just plain foolish.

She'd had to help her mother with all the preparations so she hadn't been able to spend much time with her brothers and sisters. She, Arya and Bran hadn't done much archery, she and Robb hadn't been out riding recently or spending nearly every waking moment together, she and Jon hadn't sat in companionable silence or had their quiet, private conversations about everything and nothing all at the same time, and she and Sansa hadn't spent time talking about princes, knights and fairytale romances for quite some time.

Consequently, Caryssa found herself tired and dreadfully bored.

Which is why when the morning came for the King's expected arrival, she was dressed quickly in a pale blue dress, one Sansa had made for her, made of thick blue cotton with blue lace and blue silk over the top to make it look prettier. Sansa had a better eye for making beautiful things than Caryssa had. Caryssa could sew well enough to mend clothes and make shirts for her father and brothers, but dresses and gowns were far beyond her skill.

Her mother had come in to her room early that morning and brushed her long, silky raven locks, deciding to just leave her slightly waved hair to just fall to her lower back with a couple of small braids at the front to keep her hair out of her face, promising they'd do something more elaborate for the feast that night.

Today, her mother had decided, they would leave first impressions to be made by her natural beauty.

Caryssa was now pulling her cloak across her shoulders, resettling her necklace around her neck, and making sure that her direwolf brooch hadn't been moved or twisted where it was pinned on her dress, just under her bosom. Once she had deemed herself suitable, she went to make sure that youngest children were ready. Sansa would have undoubtedly been dressed and waiting impatiently for a couple of hours now, and Robb, and Jon were capable of seeing to themselves. No, Caryssa headed to Arya's room, making sure she was dressed, her hair wasn't a wild mane and her face was clean.

Arya groaned and moaned, and fought her the whole way, but soon became cooperative once Caryssa promised to practice her fighting skills when she had a moment to spare.

"Remember you promised. I'm only letting you play doll with me because you promised you'd convince Jory to give me sword lessons. I hate acting like a girl, it's so…Sansa." Arya said, before letting out a yelp when Caryssa accidentally tugged her hair too sharply as she braided it. The elder girl muttered an apology, before continuing her mission.

"Just be thankful it was me who came looking for you, little wolf. Had it been Septa Mordane, the hair pulling would have come with a lecture and nothing beneficial for you at all. You have gotten the better bargain, Arya," Caryssa pointed out to her, as she tied the last of the third braid she had just finished, after having twisted one into a bun in the middle of her head, and draping the other two over her shoulders. "There. Done. Now, put on your cloak and I'll let you wander around the castle, until the king is in sight."

Arya beamed, before rushing with Nymeria to grab her cloak.

With one little wolf done, Caryssa went to find Bran. She checked his room, and upon finding him missing, she knew exactly where he would be. She strode off, venturing outside, eyes on the walls, Rhaenyra suddenly at her heels. She had left her in the kitchens that morning, the kitchen staff happily playing with her and feeding her scraps that wouldn't be used for the feast that night, but apparently the pup, that had grown twice her size in the month Caryssa had had her, had been kicked out and had searched the castle for her mistress.

Rhaenyra seemed to find her brother before Caryssa spotted hers, as the pup suddenly darted forwards, leaving Caryssa to follow in amusement. The little unnamed direwolf (Bran had yet to decide on one) was sat, tail wagging, staring up at a tower and Caryssa rolled her eyes as she immediately understood where her little wolf was.

It seemed her mother, who was blowing through the castle like a storm, with Maester Luwin following dutifully behind her, also spotted the direwolf and then her son, who was swinging down the side of the tower like it was second nature to him. Which it was. Caryssa liked to joke that Bran was more monkey than wolf sometimes.

"Brandon!" Catelyn Stark called, and Bran's dark head snapped to the location of the voice, and Caryssa laughed. He didn't slip once. Her little wolf was always so surefooted and nimble.

"I saw the king. He's got hundreds of people." Bran said, excitedly, as he continued to lower himself down the side of the castle wall.

"How many times have I told you? No climbing." Catelyn scolded her son, whilst Caryssa tried to hide her amused expression, so that she didn't undermine her mother's parenting. Bran would never stop climbing. He just wouldn't.

"But he's coming right now, down our road." Bran replied, dropping to the thatch roof, before he continued his descent. Caryssa moved forward to pluck him down from a beam, kissing his cheek and laughing at him, before setting him down, before he could fuss about her showing him sisterly affection. Bran was a stubborn child that wanted to be treated like a man, like his two elder brothers. He didn't enjoy his sister's more motherly affections.

Catelyn bent over to be at eyelevel with her son, looking into his dark eyes with her light ones, and trying to convey her seriousness.

"I want you to promise me, no more climbing." She insisted.

Bran looked down at his feet, a sign that he was lying, and Caryssa's lips curled up into a smirk.

"I promise." Bran said, as his mother straightened, looking more amused by his 'solemn vow' than he had expected. He looked up at his sister, standing at his side, and noticed the same amused expression his mother wore, which just confused him.

"Do you know what?" Catelyn asked.

"What?" Bran questioned, still suffering from his confusion.

"You always look at your feet before you lie," Caryssa stated, ruffling his hair as they chuckled together. Their mother smiled warmly at her children, and then told Bran to go and tell his father that the king was close. Bran rushed off, with his direwolf pup in tow, and Caryssa turned to her mother. "He won't stop climbing. He's a Northern spirit. He follows his feet and his curiosity. He'll grow out of it one day, though."

"You haven't. Your father told me that you were the one that found the direwolf puppies. You will make an interesting wife for a great lord someday. He would not know what to do with your curiosity." Her mother said, giving her that same exasperated look she always did. The one that made her feel slightly bad for being a slightly difficult daughter. She took after the Stark side than she did the Tully's, apart from her blue eyes. The wilderness of the North ran through her veins, she could not help it any more than she could help breathing.

Her mother didn't say anything more on the subject, simply gesturing for her to follow and Caryssa did as she was told.

They dropped Rhaenyra off in her room. Her mother had deemed it 'an accident waiting to happen' for the direwolves to join them in greeting the King and his entourage, so they would be left in their rooms. They then went to gather everyone. Caryssa hunted Robb, Jon and Theon, thankful that they were dressed and ready when she found them in Robb's room.

"The King approaches. Mother wants us to go and get-Did you shave?" Caryssa questioned, seeming to forget all of her mother's instructions upon seeing all three of the young men without any of their usual facial hair.

"Your mother made us." Jon said, clearly not happy, as his fingers toyed with his shorter hair. Jon loved his hair, the dark, unruly curls that reminded him he was a Northman, a Stark. His curls came from his father's family, one of the things that connected him to his family.

Caryssa walked further into the room, towards Robb, and cupped his face between her hands and smiled widely at the softness of skin underneath her fingers. Seeing his face shaved reminded her that he was actually younger than her, that he was still only ten and six years old, and not a true man.

"I remember this boy. You look so much younger now, much more like the little brother who used to cling to my skirts, while he tried to toddle around after me." Caryssa teased him, planting a noisy kiss on his cheek, laughing and enjoying his embarrassment as he batted her hands away from him. He probably felt some sort of relief when she moved onto Jon.

"Your hair still looks wonderful, Jon. A lot less wild. The Southern women shall fall at your feet, brothers," Caryssa said to them, affectionately ruffling Jon's hair, and kissing his forehead. She smiled at them, her two boys, not Theon, before gesturing to the door. "Now come along. We need to be standing with father when the King arrives."

Robb and Jon rose together, and held their arms out to her. She took them both, looping her arms through theirs, and together the three eldest Stark children (Caryssa refused to discredit Jon's validity as a Stark) walked to the castle gates where their family waited for them.

Caryssa took her place as the eldest next to her father, with Robb beside her and Sansa beside him. Bran was at the very end. Rickon, as the youngest, stood beside their mother, whilst Jon and Theon stood behind them, as they were not considered (by Lady Stark) to be apart of the family. Caryssa noticed the lack of Arya's presence before her mother did, but she did not worry as she knew that Arya was most likely getting a closer look before joining them.

"Where's Arya? Caryssa, Sansa, where's your sister?" Their mother questioned, and both girls shrugged.

As though she knew that her name had been mentioned, Arya hurried forward, trying to sneak the helmet she wore past her father, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her in front of him.

"What are you doing with that on?" He questioned, pulling it off the girl's head. Robb and Caryssa chuckled at her, as the girl groaned when her father sent her to her place in line. Caryssa watched her father pass the helmet backwards to Ser Rodrik, before they all stared forwards again, waiting.

The visitors suddenly poured through the gates, a river of gold and silver, both the banners of House Baratheon and of House Lannister fluttering in the Northern winds. Together, stags and lions rode forth into the cold den of the wolves.

Caryssa instantly recognised the prince, though she had never seen him before. Sansa had talked about him often enough, though she had only heard talk of him too, that Caryssa felt as though she could pick him out in a crowd of a hundred men. He was not as handsome as her sister and many others described. Caryssa felt a nudge at her side, and looked at Robb, who gestured to Sansa. Their little sister was staring adoringly at the prince, who was giving her similar looks. Neither Robb nor Caryssa were pleased about that particular development. The prince was flanked by a member of the Kingsguard, and the Hound, if his armour were anything to go by.

Caryssa caught eyes with the knight cloaked in white and gold, and recognised him. Jaime Lannister was his name, the Queen's twin brother. A smirk settled on his face as he caught her staring, but she did not look away like he obviously expected her to. Caryssa's blue eyes stayed fixed on his green ones, and scrutinised the lion. She suddenly felt like all those stories she had heard whispered about the handsome oath breaker did not do him justice.

Jaime Lannister wondered why the eldest Stark girl had not turned away when he had caught her staring at him. Most women did, often blushing as they did so, but not this one. She just kept staring, her ice blue eyes seeming to search his for something that neither of them knew what, until disinterest flashed in her eyes. He saw it. She was not interested in him, and dismissed him without a word or greeting. Jaime was not used to such a rejection, and from a woman he had yet to talk to, and that interested him all the more.

Caryssa's eyes were drawn away from the Kingslayer by a wooden coach adorned with red and gold, flying the banners of House Lannister, was drawn in next, and Caryssa guessed that some of the ladies of the court, and the Queen, were within. Caryssa could think of nothing worse than being stuck inside a dark carriage for hours upon hours instead of riding on horseback, as free as the wind.

A man flanked by more of the Kingsguard rode in next, and Caryssa assumed that it was the king, though he was nothing like her father had described. Ned Stark had described a tall, slim, fearsome warrior, but the man who they were knelt before now was shorter and fatter, not one bit the brilliant soldier he had once been. It was disappointing to say the least. Caryssa kept her eyes to the ground, when everyone bent the knee at the sight of the king, but heard clearly the king's footsteps as he approached them.

He stopped right in front of her father, and then gestured for them to rise. Ned Stark rose first, his wife, his children and the rest of his house following after him. Caryssa kept her face down, her eyes on the ground at her feet. Her father had warned her that he did not know what the king's reaction would be to her, as she looked so much like her aunt, the woman the king loved. So until it was her turn to greet the king, she would keep her eyes on the ground so her father could greet his old friend properly.

"Your Grace." Her father said, bowing his head in respect.

"You've got fat." The king said, and Caryssa bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as she saw, out of the corner of her eye, her father nod his head at the king's swollen stomach.

Both men laughed, and then embraced each other warmly, and Caryssa smiled at her brother as she looked towards him, still keeping her head low. The king then embraced their mother, and ruffled Rickon's hair affectionately.

"Nine years…Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" The king questioned his old friend.

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours." Their father said. Caryssa heard Arya ask where the 'Imp' was, referring to the Queen's younger brother, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and heard Sansa promptly tell her sister to shut up.

"Who have we here?" The king questioned, and Caryssa could feel his eyes on her, and knew the time had come and braced herself inwardly, as she lifted her head to look upon her king.

She saw the shock in his face, and heard his withdrawn breath, and knew that he had made the connection between her and his late love. Caryssa just raised her chin slightly, refusing to back down now, and kept his gaze despite the many eyes that were now questioning why the king had had such a reaction to the Northern Lady and the thumping of her anxious heart in her chest.

"Lyanna?" He questioned, and Caryssa shook her head, looking to her father for help.

"Lyanna Stark was my aunt, your grace." She said, her voice a little breathy as she was nervous as to what his next actions would be.

"This is Caryssa, my eldest. She was but a babe the last time you saw her." Ned explained to his friend, and the Baratheon king nodded, his eyes still on Caryssa.

"By the Gods, Ned, she looks like your sister," Robert said, before clearing his throat and taking Caryssa's hand, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on it. He quickly let her hand fall, and moved on down the line of Stark children. Caryssa refused to follow the king with her eyes, but instantly regretted it as she caught the cold green eyes of the queen. Cersei Lannister glared at the ghost who now haunted her in the flesh, but broke the gaze when she saw that the Stark girl would not. Caryssa was too stubborn to cower to a Lannister, no matter what her station. "You must be Robb."

The king shook her brother's hand, and drew Caryssa's attention again. She smiled at Robb as he returned the handshake with a rather regal nod of his head. Caryssa mused, not for the first time, that Robb would have made a good King of the North, like so many of their ancestors had before the North was claimed as dominion of the king of the rest of Westeros.

"My, you're a pretty one," The king said to Sansa, before moving on to talk to Arya, "Your name is?"

"Arya." Caryssa was happy that her sister stayed true to form and did not flinch when the king addressed her. The king moved on again, smiling slightly at Bran, before he spoke with amusement colouring his tone. He seemed to have a way with the younger children.

"Oh, show us your muscles," He said, and Bran pushed his cloak back and flexed his arm. The king chuckled at the little wolf and smiled. "Oh, you'll be a soldier."

Bran's replying beam of happiness made Caryssa's heart warm. It was no secret amongst their family that Bran wanted to be a knight or a member of the Kingsguard someday, and for the king to say that to him obviously meant the world to him. Caryssa mused silently that the king probably did not even know the kindness that he had just done the boy.

"That's Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother." Caryssa heard Arya mutter to Sansa, and her eyes flickered back to the Lannister lion, who had removed his helm, shaking out his golden hair.

Caryssa could fully see him now, and was now certain that the whispers did him no justice. His hair was like spun gold, not unlike the Queen's and her children's, and he had a very handsome face. He had dismounted his horse, with the prince and the Hound, and his eyes scanned the area, before being drawn back to her. She unashamedly let her eyes roam his body, taking in his expensive armour and his physique, before she grew uninterested again, so snapped her eyes away from him and gave her attention to the Queen, who had finally approached them.

She gave her father a slight smile, placing her hand in his. Ned lifted the Queen's pale, cold hand to his lips and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to it.

"My queen." He said, and his wife curtseyed and repeated his words in greeting, earning another twitch of a smile from the Southern Queen, which was quickly wiped away by her husband's request.

"Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait." The Queen said, and Caryssa saw her point. The ride from Kings Landing to Winterfell was not exactly a short trip, nor would it have been rather comfortable, but the King paid that no mind.

"Ned." He called to Caryssa's father, before turning his back on his wife, disappearing from view. Caryssa watched her father's eyes flit to the Queen, giving her an apologetic look, before reluctantly following his king, and his friend, even if he did not want to.

Caryssa felt slightly awkward, and slightly disappointed by the man that she had just seen. It became clear very quickly that there was no love between the king and queen, and that he did not honour his wife as he should, because of the love he still bore to a woman long dead. Caryssa gave the Lion Queen a kind smile, but both of their attention was drawn to the youngest Stark girl as she asked, slightly louder than she should have, where the 'Imp' was.

The Queen strode away towards her brother and son, and Caryssa found the Lannister Lion's eyes on her again. She quirked her head, giving him a questioning gaze, but rolled her eyes when he smirked at her. He was clearly one of those men. The type of man who would toy with a person for his own amusements. Caryssa was a little apprehensive about his gaze, since she was not naïve enough to believe that he actually remained as celibate as his vows would have him, couple that with the fact that he was a Lannister who had enough wealth and power to believe they could have anything or anyone they wished and Caryssa found herself unhappy that she had caught his apparent interest.

The king's visit would not bode well for her it seemed, not well for her at all.

Jaime Lannister's interest was piqued by the Stark girl, that was for sure. He had heard rumours of her beauty and her singing voice many times from inn keepers and villagers on their journey north, but while she was breathtaking, a pale, dark beauty, she was only as beautiful as his sister was.

His sister. He and his sister's own forbidden relationship had come to an end a couple years after their last bastard had been born. Their love for each other was still there, but it was less potent than it had been in the beginning. They had realised that it was nothing more than a childish dream to continue, praying one day that they could be together. They were both sick of hiding, of the secrets, of all the terrible things they had had to do in order to protect their secrets, and so ended it, even though their love still remained as something more than a familial love.

Unless he found someone he could love without having to hide their relationship, a distraction from the love he had had to let go. Cersei found her distraction in her children, and in her hatred for her husband's whoring and refusal to let himself love his queen. Jaime thought that his duties as a kingsguard would be enough, but it wasn't.

Maybe the Stark girl could be distraction enough, or perhaps even grow into a tolerable companion. He knew that the King and Ned Stark would be discussing possible betrothals for the eldest Stark girl since there were none in the North that the old wolf deemed worthy of the Beauty of the North. Maybe he would throw his name into consideration. Seeing the King's reaction to the girl, he knew that Robert would want his Lyanna look-a-like to be in King's Landing where he could look upon her when he wished, so he would probably look to some of the knights or lords in King's Landing.

Jaime Lannister smirked, as he realised that maybe his visit to the frozen hell that was the north wouldn't be so terrible after all.

A/N:

Hey Guys, me again!

Tomorrow is my 18th birthday, so big moment for me. I'm going to be opening a bank account, and I'll get to vote and I can be on a jury and everything...lots of stuff to look forward to lol (nah, I'm kidding, I'm looking forward to buying my mom a G&T for the first time!). So if you guys want to review and make my day better since my birthday is on a Monday (the worst day of the week), I would be perfectly okay with that.

Anyway, so I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The King arrived, and more importantly, Jaime! Things are going to be a little slow at first, admittedly, but once we head off to King's Landing, things will move a lot quicker.

Thank you to those who have reviewed since the last chapter:

LittleNK, Forever Fanfiction Lover22, Guest, Hand of the Alex, winter1990, cocoalover1956, Turquoise Waffles (love the name btw)!

Thanks everybody who has favourited and followed this story, your support means all the world to me.

SophStratt.