Sleep escaped Alysanne once again that night. Sleep seemed to have found Robb, and Alysanne felt envy crawl into her chest at the sight of him so sound asleep beside her. Their chambers were dark and the fire in the hearth had long gone out, not even the moon made an appearance that night. She could hardly see Robb next to her and the lack of fire had left a chill in the air. She huddled down under the furs and closer to Robb. She had long lost track of which hour it was. Is it the hour of the wolf? Or are we nearing the hour of the bat?
Sleep had been scarce for her in the weeks since Lady Catelyn had left. Everytime she closed her eyes she heard Lady Catelyn read the missive from her sister and her mind grew even more impossible to quiet. The whole situation was a puzzle that seemed near impossible to untangle. Alysanne was no fool. She had learned early on of the blood that stained the Lannister name, her name. Her grandfather was responsible for that stain; he had killed men, women, and children in the name of Lannister. When the letter from Lady Lysa named the Lannisters, her mind had jumped to her grandfather. Never her father.
Alysanne had been struck dumb after Lady Catelyn named her father as responsible. "I'm quite certain," she had snapped after Alys asked if she was certain. "My sister would never lie. She would never take such a risk unless she was certain." Lady Catelyn had then shifted her focus to Ser Rodrick and Maester Luwin and made clear her intentions to travel to King's Landing.
Alysanne had stopped paying attention to their conversation, and everyone had stopped paying attention to her. She stood back from the group, feeling as if she was intruding on a matter not her own. Robb joined in to voice his protests at his mother leaving, and Jon had joined her at the edge. He'd done his best to comfort her, but as hard and earnestly as he tried she could think of nothing else.
Her father had blood on his hands, Alys knew this to be true. He had been a soldier long before he joined the Kingsguard and was regarded as one of the best swordsmen in the realm. One did not gain such repute without spilling blood. But the blood of Jon Arryn? Does his blood stain my father's hands as well? Her father had no love for Jon Arryn, and certainly Jon Arryn had none for him. She had seen it in King's Landing, with the way they shot daggers at each other in court and the wide berth they kept. On the rare occasions she had seen them interact it had been all taunts from her father and veiled barbs from Lord Arryn. But did her father hate him enough to kill him?
Her father was a killer, but a murderer? She had never known him to be a murderer. He did kill King Aerys, his own goodfather, she reminded herself. However Aerys had been mad and by all accounts cruel. If the rumours proved true, then that cruelty extended to her mother and late grandmother. Jon Arryn had been far from mad or cruel. Father had his reasons for killing Aerys, what reason could he have to kill Jon Arryn?
How well do I truly know my father? She asked herself. In truth, she had only spent the first six years of her life with him. All of her memories from then were filtered and tangled with a child's view. She remembered sun soaked days in the training yard with her small wooden sword and her father's gentle encouragement. She remembered laughing with him as he taught her to ride her pony, and how he had spun her around in the air when he would return from Lannisport.
But if she looked beyond the surface and beyond the memories of a child she could find the truth. He would return late at night from Lannisport in a drunken rage and the curses he would let loose that had so amused her morphed into something else entirely. She had once thought him busy and enwrapped in his duties, lies told to her by her Septa and Uncles. My father has no mind for duty, Tyrion has told me enough. The days spent in the care of that same Septa and the same Uncles took on a different light.
If she were to be completely honest with herself, the clearest memories she had of her father were from his most recent visit to Winterfell. He had made no time for her in King's Landing and had made no effort to visit. Do I truly know him at all?
All of these thoughts went round and round in her mind for days. She had been unable to make sense of what Lady Catelyn had told them on her own and no one else knew her father well enough to help her. Aside from Ser Addam, of course. Once more, she found herself turning to her sworn sword. Ser Addam, who had picked her up when she fell and had time and time again eased her anxious mind. The night Lady Catelyn had left she led Ser Addam to the godswood.
"Lady Catelyn received a raven from her sister," she began without preamble. "Lysa Arryn claims my father and the Queen murdered Jon Arryn." Ser Addam had looked as shocked as she felt, eyes widened. "Could my father have done such a thing?" she whispered.
He took a seat on one of the stones by the black pool. "I want to believe that he is not capable of such a thing," he said to her, and it was not the answer she wanted. She prompted him to continue. He gave her a sympathetic look. "He is no longer the man I knew. King's Landing turned him bitter."
After the conversation with Ser Addam, Alysanne did her best to busy herself. A feat that was not difficult, as Lady Catelyn's duties all fell to her. She departed only two days after receiving the raven from her sister and took with her only Ser Rodrick. Robb had tried to convince her to take more men, but she refused. "The smaller our party the easier we go unnoticed," she insisted. Alysanne was almost thankful for her hasty departure, for she did not know if she could stand seeing the look in her eyes.
The days after Lady Catelyn left were a blur as Alysanne settled into her role as acting Lady of Winterfell. With the chaos from the King's visit and departure settled, it was not nearly so difficult. After all, she had spent the better part of the last moon shadowing Lady Catelyn. She busied herself with her duties and assisted Robb with his. When she ran out of things to do she took to the training yard, sparring with Jon or Ser Addam. But when night fell and the keep was quiet and dark, the thoughts returned.
So enwrapped with the running of the keep and concerns of her father was she, that she had almost forgotten about the ladies she invited to Winterfell. It wasn't until a raven arrived with warning of their impending arrival that she remembered it was now her responsibility to make the necessary arrangements. The rooms were readied and space made for any maids they may bring. It was a cold morning when her first lady arrived. "The first signs of fall," Old Nan had said.
First to arrive was Lady Eddara Tallhart of Torrhen's Square. A maid only a few years younger than Alysanne and close in age with Beth. She rode in on horseback, tall and proud under the banners of her house. She had dark hair as was common in the north and her cheeks still held the fullness of childhood. Eddara was a shy girl. Shy and graceful and ever so polite. She hardly spoke unless directly acknowledged and grew even more reserved in Robb's presence.
For the few days before her other ladies arrived conversation had been short and awkward. Despite being so close in age, neither Eddara nor Beth seemed to want to speak first. Alysanne found herself starting most of the conversation, and then carrying it. She hoped that given time Eddara would grow comfortable and speak her mind more.
Lady Wylla Manderly came second and was perhaps the arrival that Alysanne most anticipated. The last Alys had seen of Wylla Manderly had been on her journey north, and she would be glad to have another familiar face aside from Beth amongst her ladies. She rode in and Alysanne had never had such difficulty hiding her shock. Wylla had dyed her hair a garish green to match that of the merman on her banner. Wylla approached Alys and her waiting ladies with an air of defiance, as if she was challenging them to question her.
Jorelle Mormont was the last to arrive and was everything Alysanne expected of a Mormont woman. She arrived wearing breeches and a leather jerkin with her hair loose and windblown in a way that so reminded Alys of Arya. Her morningstar was strapped to her side, a gift from her older sister Dacey she would later explain. She was tall and slight and towered over Alysanne, a sight that would have been intimidating if not for her genial nature.
Alysanne spent the next few weeks in the company of her ladies. It left her less time to fret over her father, as they gave her new reasons to fret. The first two weeks were a tad rough. Wylla was outspoken and loud and often intimidated Eddara, who for every step forward seemed to take two back when it came to leaving her shell. Beth was quiet and reserved as always, uncertain of the new ladies who joined their circle.
Wylla had chattered excitedly to Alysanne later that day, eager to know how she had found the north. She did indeed remember how Alys had almost gone for a swim in the White Knife, a story that had elicited laughter from even quiet Eddara. Once, Eddara had shyly pointed out that Wylla's hair was green, an unspoken question in her statement. Wylla had only snorted and proclaimed it was "a very astute observation," her tone a tad bit derisive. Alysanne had kindly and pointedly noted that Eddara was merely inquiring as to why. It was several days before Eddara spoke up again without prompting.
Jorelle was good-natured and full of humour and found no qualms in making fun of herself. This seemed to extend to others as well. Jorelle made the mistake of teasing Wylla for her green hair one afternoon, and while Alys could not well recall the contents of said jape she certainly remembered the way Wylla's face had flushed red. It had set off a verbal sparring match between the two that only ended after Alys ordered both Eddara and Beth from the room. She had sat the two ladies down and insisted they make amends, declaring that she would most certainly not contend with two bickering ladies.
However slowly, the awkwardness and uncertainty of the new company wore off and the group of women grew comfortable. Wylla did her best to bite her tongue and take Jorelle's japes in good nature, and Jorelle kept her japes at the expense of herself. Alysanne frequently asked Eddara pointed questions, finding ways to include her in near every conversation. Beth grew more comfortable and joined in with Jorelle's humour, the two ladies building off of the other.
A steady routine formed around the group of ladies. Jorelle proved to be a worthy sparring partner, at a more equal footing to Alysanne than Jon or Robb or Ser Addam. When the lot of them grew bored with needlework or idle gossip they often made their way down to the yards. Jorelle, or Jory as she so insisted, and Alys were the only two who sparred, Alys with her sword and Jory with her morningstar. Eddara, Beth, and Wylla cheered on from the side and took bets on who would best who that day, shouting and jeering in an entirely unladylike manner. Wylla was loudest among them.
Wylla proved to have no need of the green hair to make her presence known. She took no issue with returning Robb's japes on behalf of Alysanne, much to her amusement. Any and all remarks about her green hair made by Theon were returned with equal malice, and he soon learned to steer clear of her. Jon, poor Jon, seemed entirely unsure of how to interact with her. She never spoke down to him and was instead direct and forward, an opposite to Jon's sullen shyness.
Eddara, or Neddy as Wylla had taken to calling her, proved to be a splendid singer. She was ever so kind, and perhaps a tad naive in a way that reminded Alysanne of a younger Sansa. It was often Eddara who prompted the others to leave behind their needlework. She was the one who most often suggested rides through the wolfswood. Races, more like. Races that she often wins.
"It must have been rather exciting, having the King and his court in Winterfell," said Eddara with an excited smile. They were all sat around making idle gossip and working on various projects: Wylla a letter home, Beth a new doublet for her father, Jory sprawled lazily on the window seat, Eddara a pretty new handkerchief, and Alys a new jerkin for Rickon.
Alysanne gave a tight smile in response. "It was. Busy, as well. Lady Catelyn worked tirelessly."
"Where is the Lady Catelyn? I don't believe you ever said," Wylla chimed in.
I can't very well tell them she's gone to King's Landing, Alysanne told herself. "The Eyrie," she answered. "She's gone to visit her sister." Wylla did not look entirely convinced, but Alysanne paid it no mind.
Eddara threw down her needlework on her lap. "We've been at this for hours. Might I suggest something else?"
Wylla snorted. "And what might that be?"
Eddara went to answer when Jory piped in. "Oh please let me hedge a guess!" She made a show of false concentration. "A walk through the gardens, it must be." Jory's voice was full of mirth, as all the ladies knew what the correct answer would be.
Beth clicked her tongue and joined in the game. "Jory, come now. Dear Neddy is of course suggesting we go down to the yards to watch you and Alys hit at each other with sticks."
"Oh perhaps I know!" Alys joined in. "She wants to go watch Ser Addam train some of the new guardsmen," she said, poking fun at her friend's affection for her sworn sword. It was harmless, and she thought him nothing more than handsome. It was still a source of endless entertainment for them.
Eddara blushed furiously. "Shut up, you're all horrible," she laughed. "You know very well what I suggest."
The five of them made their way down to the stables not at all quietly. They laughed and teased one another, Eddara making fun of them each in turn as they had done to her earlier. Their laughter rang out across the yard and caught the attention of Rickon who had been playing in the yard with some of the children of the keep.
Never one to miss out on the fun, Rickon sprinted across the yard as he saw them all gathering outside the stables, insisting that he be allowed to join. Alysanne in turn insisted he seek Robb's permission, which added another three members to their party. Robb jumped at the opportunity to break from his duties and invited Theon and Jon along, who had heard rumour of a stag in the woods which would provide for a fine meal.
So their party of five ballooned to a party of nine and any hopes of a peaceful ride were dashed. Not that it would have been peaceful in the first place, Alys noted. The wolves were left behind, as it was argued they would scare off any such thing that might needs hunted. They did a well enough job at that on their own, as their group was no wear near quiet.
Jon and Theon broke off from the group to hunt the stag and left Robb behind. "Will you not join them?" she questioned. "They're not like to get along." Rickon shot off ahead of them, hollering and laughing and Alysanne shouted at him to be careful.
Robb shook his head. "On the contrary. They've been almost friendly these past weeks."
Alysanne looked at him skeptically. "Jon and Theon?" She could still hear Rickon ahead of them as he played at Aemon the Dragonknight. Her ladies chattered behind her.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I know not what happened. And I know better than to question it lest I draw attention to it. Chances are not even they've noticed." She and Robb shared a laugh at that.
Her horse's ears perked up and she held up a hand. Her ladies stopped behind her and Robb looked at her in question. She sat and listened. Silence. There was naught to be heard but birds.
"Where did Rickon go?" her ladies all quieted and listened as well, but there was not a sound. Panic welled up in her chest. She urged her horse forward in the direction Rickon had gone.
She abruptly stopped her horse as she took in the scene in front of her. Three wildlings surrounded Rickon, knives and spears at the ready. He had been dragged to the ground and away from his horse but the wildlings froze upon seeing her. She cursed herself for leaving her sword.
Her ladies stopped a short distance away and Robb's horse reared to a stop beside her. "Let him go," Robb ordered. He slid off his horse and one of the wildlings held his knife closer to Rickon's throat. "We outnumber you."
The wildling spat onto the ground and laughed. "We're four, and you've only yourself and some little ladies," Alysanne chanced a glance at Jory and her heart sank when she noticed she too had left her morningstar. Theon and Jon, where are you?
She slid off her horse as well. One of the wildling's charged at Robb and Alys moved out of the way. She spun and ran towards the women behind her."Go! Run back to Winterfell and alert the guards!" she shouted. Eddara and Beth wheeled their horses about and spurred them forwards. Wylla and Jory hesitated, "Alys get back on your horse," Wylla urged.
The sounds of Robb fighting off the wildlings who attacked him continued behind her. I will not leave Robb. "Go! Find Jon or Theon!" she insisted. Neither of them listened. Wylla scanned the horizon and dismounted, Jory following suit.
Panic welled up inside her and she faced back to Robb, only to find him holding the wildling woman by the hair with a knife held to her. Across from him was the wildling who held Rickon, a knife pressed close to his throat. The standoff between the two was tense and Alysanne found herself holding her breath. She shifted uneasily, uncertain what she should do. Not Rickon, do not take Rickon from me today. Robb began to bend down and placed his sword on the ground, still keeping a firm hold of the woman's hair.
The man who held Rickon shifted and Alysanne tensed more, but before he could make a move an arrow pierced through his chest. He released Rickon and fell to the ground, revealing Theon and Jon stood a distance behind him.
Rickon began kicking the man and Alysanne rushed forward to him."Rickon!" she bent down to his level and pulled him tightly against her. She pulled back and looked over him for injuries and smoothed down his hair. "Are you hurt?" Rickon shook his head and she pulled him back close to her.
Jory and Wylla joined her at her side, and Theon stood over the wildling woman with his bow drawn and ready. Robb and Theon soon began to shout at one another and fury rose up in Alysanne's chest. She rose to her feet. "Jon," his head snapped to her. She motioned to Rickon and he walked forward and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. Rickon clung to his legs.
"Stop it! Both of you!" She shouted. Both Theon and Robb looked at her. "Theon is right, Robb. He saved Rickon's life."
Robb looked at her incredulously. "He could have killed Rickon! I had it well in hand!"
"You don't know what that was going to do! He could have slit Rickon's throat for all you know," she argued back. Robb's shoulders slumped and he had the decency to look apologetic.
"What do you mean to do with her?" Theon asked and shoved the woman with his foot.
She crawled forward. "Please, milord. Give me my life and I'm yours," she begged.
Robb considered Rickon and the two ladies who still stood behind Alys. "We'll keep her alive," he decided.
Theon opened his mouth to argue but the rumbling sound of hooves stalled his argument. A small group of guardsmen rode up swords at the ready with Beth and Eddara trailing behind them. Alysanne would have been relieved but for their delayed arrival. Beth dismounted and made her way to Alys and embraced her tightly.
"Are you alright?" she asked. Beth stepped back and Eddara took her place.
"We're alright," Alysanne's voice was shaky. Eddara and Beth embraced Wylla and Jory in turn. "Beth, would you see to Rickon?"
Beth and Eddara approached Rickon carefully and Jon went to assist with the wildling woman. Rickon liked Beth and had a habit of following her around the keep, so it was no surprise that he took her hand over Jon's. Alysanne looked to Wylla and Jory once she was certain the other ladies were well occupied. "I told you both to go," she said.
Jorelle raised her chin. "Aye, you did."
Alysanne narrowed her eyes. "Well why didn't you? It was incredibly foolish, you put yourselves in danger for naught,"
"Pardons, my lady," Jory stood taller and squared her shoulders. "But it wouldn't do to abandon you at the first sign of trouble"
"You hadn't your morningstar or any other weapon," Alysanne pointed out.
"And you hadn't your sword," Jorelle responded. "Besides, I would have made do." Alysanne didn't doubt it.
Wylla smirked and said, "Here We Stand indeed," a jape that pulled a small smile to Jory's lips.
Alysanne looked between the two ladies and fought a smile. "Please don't put yourselves in such danger again."
"As long as my lady promises the same," Wylla responded back. At that Alys did smile.
Later that night, after the keep had settled and Rickon had been bathed and comforted and put to bed, Alysanne sat at the mirror and brushed through her hair. She winced as the brush caught a few of the snarls from the day.
Robb entered their room and shot her a look. "You should not have put yourself in such danger today," he said.
"So I should have left you?" she bit back.
"Yes," he answered and held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. "You did not have any means to defend yourself. What if I had been injured?"
She pursed her lips. "I am not helpless."
He strode forward and knelt in front of her. "I do not think you helpless. You're good with a sword and had you one with you this would be a different conversation," he gripped her knee tightly. "But I worry enough after my mother, who has seen fit to cross the Seven Kingdoms with only Ser Rodrick. Please do not give me cause to worry after you more than I already do."
She kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. Perhaps it was foolish." She brushed back his hair. "Is there any word from your mother?" she asked. Robb stood and sat on their bed.
He shook his head. "None. I don't think she'll risk sending a raven." He sounded dejected, and Alysanne felt guilt that it was her family causing such strife, and that she had caused him more strife today. He knelt down and began unlacing his boots.
Alysanne's heart twisted. "I don't understand," she said as she placed the brush back on the small table.
"Why she won't send a raven?" he asked, standing to remove his jerkin and ready himself for bed. "You told us yourself, there's spies everywhere all across Westeros," he walked to his wardrobe pulled on a fresh shift.
She stood to find a fresh shift herself. "Not that. My Aunt Cersei, my father. Why would they kill Jon Arryn?"
Robb shrugged his shoulders. "You said Cersei never liked Jon Arryn, your grandfather wanted to be hand instead. Perhaps they never thought the King would ask my father."
Alysanne made her way to her side of the bed and pulled back the furs. She arranged her pillows against the headboard and crawled in. She sat propped up and watched as Robb continued to ready himself for bed. "My father would want nothing less than to have my grandfather hovering over him in King's Landing," she shook her head. "There's something I'm missing."
Robb joined her in bed and sat beside her, brushing her hair out of her face. "With any luck, my mother will learn something while she's there. It will all make more sense then." Robb blew out the candle by his bedside and shuffled down in bed, pulling Alys with him. He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair down her back. "Get some rest, my love."
Sleep found Alysanne that night. Her dreams were filled with golden hair and tears, the origin of which she did not know.