Chapter 10
"Forgive me, Lord Stark," Nysa said softly as he sat at the table.
Ned smiled at her.
"I am returning at a most unfortunate hour."
"It is quite alright," he told her.
"Do you need some wine," she walked towards the pitcher.
"Water," he answered.
Nysa began to pour the water and brought the cup towards him. She had that saddened look on her face again. She had been wearing that expression often and Ned did not like it. He felt guilty for subjecting her to this type of southern hospitality. He remembered the letter he had wrote earlier and thought that perhaps he should have left her back in Winterfell.
"Were you visiting with your brother?"
A guilty expression appeared on her face causing Ned to frown. "I was out for a walk with a knight," she attempted to smile.
Ned tilted his head, knowing that she had denied a walk with two different knights. On both occasions, she informed Sansa that she did not want rumor to spread. The gossipers at court could be rather cruel and might conjure up some tale. Arya had jested immediately that there was a young Lord back in the North that Nysa would rather enjoy taking night walks with - which had begun another tale.
"And what is different about this knight that you permitted him to have your attention," he asked.
"He is handsome and gallant," she plastered a false smile this time on her face causing him to burst out in laughter. "Well, some of them are."
It only made Ned laugh more. He knew her too well. She had stated she delighted talking to a few of the knights here but many of them felt entitled to take certain liberties with her and she had been on guard with many of them. She'd never go walking during such a late hour in their company.
"But you were not with any of them, were you?" Nysa shook her head. "Then, where were you," he asked. "I am not questioning you in the hopes of punishing you, Nysa. You are a young woman, of age to become betrothed. You are not a child so there is no need to hide."
Nysa sighed. "My presence was requested by the Queen."
"The Queen," Ned startled for a moment.
"She wanted to talk of Sansa's wedding, my Lord."
"Sansa's wedding," he raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, to Prince Joffrey. She asked me about Sansa's favorites and was planning on getting her a gift as a surprise," she answered quickly.
Too quickly, Ned thought. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before turning away. He'd hear the truth sooner or later.
"Do you need any help with lineages, my Lord?" He turned back to her to see her eyes were set upon the book he was reading. "I was very good with my lessons, bested Jon and Robb a few times."
Ned chuckled. "I was merely inquiring about something that concerned me," he closed the books. "But since you have a well based knowledge of Houses, perhaps you can help me with a few items of concern that I had regarding the North?" She smiled eagerly. "Do you remember Greenhall from your lessons?"
Nysa nodded. "It is a holdfast alongside the Kingsroad - not far from Winterfell - that sits unoccupied. Sometimes Jory will ride out there to ensure the delivery of goods."
"Can you name other holdfasts and settlements that are unoccupied?"
Her eyes looked away for a moment before nodding. "There is Long Hall that sits near Long Lake," she smiled knowing that was the easiest for her to remember. "The village is small there but the people are kind. I stayed there twice before journeying back to Winterfell. The Amber Tower rests near Karhold. I rode there once with Torrhen," she blushed. "There is also Foothill, Maidenspass and Queenscrown."
"And where do they sit?"
"They rest in the Gift," she paused. "I heard that you were planning on giving a few settlements in the Gift to certain Lords to raise a family and protect the lands there from the wildling raids."
"There were a few I considered. One of them, I wanted Jon to take."
Nysa looked smiled sadly. That may have made Jon stay but now they would never know.
"Then he announced he desired to join the Wall," Ned sighed. "I wanted him to stay as well but," he shook his head. "He was determined that he would take the black. Another one I thought of was a certain young Lord who cannot inherit his father's castle since he has two older brothers," he began as Nysa bit her lip from smiling. "I would give his bride the land as a wedding gift. They could raise a family there. Greenhall is still small but I think that they would be able to manage it."
"And who is this fortunate young woman?"
He took Nysa's hands in his, "It is something that I wanted you to have should your Lord Uncle agree to Lord Rickard's proposal."
"Greenhall," she smiled widely.
"Yes, Greenhall," he nodded. "I would have preferred establishing the young Karstark at Foothill. It is close to the Bay of Seals. And I believe he would sufficiently protect any raids from venturing further south. But your brother protested to placing you so far away from him."
Nysa rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he did."
"Therefore, I have prepared a letter for you to give to Lord Karstark."
"So, I am betrothed?"
"If he should accept the terms, then yes. Besides rebuilding Greenhall and its lands, I have decided to give you one hundred men when you wed."
"One hundred," she exclaimed. "Lord Stark that is too much. I could not possibly..."
"Your brother insisted and we have the numbers," he interjected. "I am sure Lord Karstark will give Torrhen some men as well to help with the holdfast. There is some coin that your Uncle gave over the years that should be enough for a brand-new start. You could purchase supplies and builders, farmers and stock with it."
"This is truly generous," she smiled. "I appreciate it, Lord Stark. Truly I do."
"You have done much for my family. You and your brother are fiercely loyal. And in times like these it is hard to find loyalty. When it is found, it should be rewarded."
"I am not loyal to seek selfish gain."
"I know you are not. And because of the type of person you are, it has convinced me that you should be given this and more as a wedding gift. I will look for the letter, ah yes," he pulled it out from under the book. "Give this to Lord Karstark when you return home."
"You are sending me back to Winterfell? Have I done something wrong?"
"You have not committed any wrong," he shook his head. "I am sending you all back," he urged Nysa to sit at seeing the confusion on her face and she did. "I already spoke with your brother and some of the guards. I am waiting for my daughters to arrive," he nodded towards their door.
"Is this 'the plan' you referred to in the throne room with my brother," asked Nysa.
"Aye, it is. You have seen the tension that has been created these past days. Lady Catelyn is holding Lord Tyrion as hostage, Ser Jamie and I have fought in the yard. And because of this, Lord Tywin marches on the Riverlands. I may have gained the King's good favor once again but who is to say that I will remain there."
"You must not lose hope, Lord Stark. You and the King are close friends. He respects you and your decisions. If I recall correctly during our stay at Darry, the King said that if not for you he would not have the crown. He owes you a huge debt, he said so himself. He would not dismiss you so easily."
"If only I could hold the rest of men to that type of honor. Kings Landing is not a place to find honorable men," Ned snorted.
"No, it is not," Nysa grimaced. "There are a few who are admirable but I would not start here, either. I confess I am glad to be rid of this place. I pray I never have to come here again."
Ned chuckled. "Odd that you would say that since you were born here."
"I was born in Kings Landing," her voice rang with hope. "So, my mother is from the Crownlands? You introduced me to Lord Mallery and a Lord Buckwell. Is one of them my Uncle? Have you received his approval? Is that why you are sending out terms for a betrothal? Am I really to wed someone I choose rather than a southern Lord?"
"Nysa..."
"Or maybe he wishes for me to marry a knight? Please do not say that it is Ser Lucion," she made a disgusted face. "I would not want to wed a Lannister!"
Ned held back a smile and shook his head. Nysa continued to rattle on, excited about the thought of finally meeting her kin. She could obtain the answers to questions that she's been asking her entire life, questions that others have been asking her entire life. She would know what House her mother came from. Oh, she had read about the other Houses in books but to see them all up close, see their banners, their colors, the various Lords and Ladies.
"Nysa," Lord Stark stopped her. "Your mother is not from here and the Lords that you have met are not your Uncle."
"Oh," she replied softly in disappointment.
"I did promise you that you would meet him while you were here. I wrote to him not long after we arrived and informed him that it was dangerous to meet you in King's Landing. I know that you were looking forward to being introduced but it is still not safe."
"I understand," she nodded.
"You are a good girl, Nysa. After witnessing the tirade of my two daughters recently, I must say that at least Winterfell has produced one young woman with a good head on her shoulders," he smiled. "I had been hopeful that my son would ask for your hand before we left to come here," he told her honestly.
Shock displayed on her face. "But Robb is your heir. He will be Lord of Winterfell one day," she shook her head. "Would not you and Lady Catelyn want someone more..."
"We would want someone like you, Nysa," he smiled softly. "You are an intelligent and kind person. My wife and I have spoken about it. You know the people there. You understand the concerns of the other Houses in the North. You'd make a fine Lady of House Stark. But as you know, my son remained quiet on the matter."
Nysa wanted to believe Lord Stark. There was no reason for her not to. But her time spent in King's Landing had changed her perception of things. "I am a bastard and Robb is a first-born son," she shook her head. "I am surprised that other Lords have considered wedding their sons to me."
"I am not," he replied honestly. "Once they see the terms for your betrothal to Torrhen Karstark, they will know."
"Know what exactly," Nysa questioned at the ominous tone in Lord Stark's voice.
He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. His eyes were haunted. "If people knew," he paused and turned back to her. "There are too many ears here, I'm sure you know that." Nysa nodded, understanding that she would still not be getting the full scope of it all. "After the war, I knew that a Southern maid would not be appreciated in the North. I made the decision to raise you among my own. In truth, I had been praying that by sending you to assist Lady Glover, Lady Karstark and Lady Umber that you would earn the respect of their Houses, the respect of the North. They are great Houses."
"They are, my Lord," she agreed.
"I tried to do the same with Jon as well but after that incident at the Dreadfort, it seemed to detract from the good he had to offer. And Lord Bolton..."
"Lord Bolton should learn to control his son," Nysa spat out. "I will not wed Ramsay. Forgive me Lord Stark but that is one thing that I find I will protest with every fiber of my being."
"There is no need for that," he smiled, "I would not subject the daughter of a Lannister to such a union." Nysa bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. "There is more to you and Jon than your name. I wanted the Northern Houses to see it. I wanted you to come here and see the court, the other Houses here in the South. I wanted them to see you. I also wanted them to see Jon," he sighed heavily before looking back at her. "If the other Houses hadn't taken an interest in you, then I would have allowed Robb to act on his heart's desire."
"I know there were feelings developing between Robb and I but," she sighed, "it could never blossom into anything."
"It could have," Lord Stark assured her. "I just wanted my son to tell me, confirm my suspicions. I would have granted it."
Nysa smiled and then dismissed it. "But he'd never admit to wanting a bastard girl. I am below him. I always will be." She took his hand to interrupt him. "Lord Stark you are kind but you do not need to flatter me with false words. I may be an acknowledged bastard but I am still a bastard. My mother may have been a Lady but that does not mean that I am one. Robb knows this. That is why he has not said anything. He would not wish to wed a girl such as me."
"You think so little of my son?"
"No, I think too much of him and that is why I know he is above joining himself with someone like me. I cannot offer him anything. And look at what I have now, it is only through your generosity that I have bestowed with such treasures. Your son deserves someone who is worthy. I understand why he neglected to tell you," Nysa stated.
Ned didn't want to admit it but perhaps the girl was torn between her passion for Torrhen Karstark and her affection for his son. Catelyn told him that the girl was confused about Robb before Torrhen had made his presence known in Winterfell. And even before they left, she was uncertain of where she stood with Robb. Ned had to admit that his son probably debated about wedding a 'Snow'. Robb probably thought all the things that Nysa had stated. Maybe he was embarrassed. Whatever was adding to Robb's silence on the matter, only confused Nysa more and it caused Ned to feel guilty for not speaking to his son on the topic more thoroughly before he left.
"It has only served to remind me of my place. And I have no right to desire myself equal to Robb or anyone of noble birth. The Queen reminded so just now."
"I thought you said that the two of you were discussing Sansa's wedding." Nysa looked away with a guilty expression. "What did you two truly speak of?"
"This was the second time that she called me to her chambers," he watched the girl rub her arms nervously. "The first time she asked me as to the reason why I was here in King's Landing. She revealed that she knew about Bran and Rickon's letters. And that I also had to watch the things I say."
"And this meeting," he inquired.
"She spoke all sorts of things," Nysa shook her head, "some of it did not make sense. Earlier we talked about a game and staying one move ahead. I didn't know what that meant but she informed me that she had someone on her side."
"Had someone," Ned questioned.
Nysa nodded. "Yes, she spoke about Sansa. Once when I had luncheon with the two of them, the Queen told Sansa that if the Prince did not find favor in her then women like me would turn him away from her. Tonight, she spoke about how the Prince had reconciled with Sansa and that I could not turn him away as I did with her brother, Jamie."
Ned tilted his head. "I often wondered how it is that you were permitted to walk away alive." Nysa's face paled then. "Do not get me wrong, it is just that I am trying to see..."
"It is alright, Lord Stark. I do not know why either. But I have a feeling that," she paused and looked down.
"Go on," he urged.
"I have a feeling that something big is about to happen. I don't want to talk about war but it feels like it will lead to it. Bran was pushed out a window," she began as Lord Stark narrowed his eyes, "then he was attacked by someone. Lady Catelyn has taken Lord Tyrion hostage, believing that it was him."
"You doubt Lord Tyrion's guilt?"
Nysa nodded. "I don't think he had anything to do with it. I believe that someone wanted Lady Catelyn to think that it was Lord Tyrion."
Ned turned away and thought about it for a moment. He did not trust Lord Baelish at first either, especially since his motives for helping were due to his so-called 'love'. "Lord Baelish informed Lady Catelyn that it was Tyrion Lannister."
"But..."
"I did not trust him either. But my wife did, Nysa," he explained. "And I trust my wife," he concluded. "I do not doubt that the Lannisters had some sort of part in Bran's situation."
"I do not doubt that either," Nysa shook her head. "I was trying to go against you and your wife either, Lord Stark. I..."
He smiled and shook his head. "It is alright, Nysa. As I said earlier, I'm not seeking to punish you. It is a good thing to examine this situation from all angles. Lord Tyrion went on the hunt with us. But..." he paused. "Who was left behind?"
Nysa bit her lip and looked down. "He claimed to have nothing to do with the attack but," she sighed. She almost felt guilty for pointing him out, especially after that decent conversation they had. "Ser Jamie had stayed behind from the hunt," Nysa finished. "It was so that he could guard the Queen or so he claimed," she reminded him, "Jory and a few of the guards had asked about everyone's whereabouts during the hunt. I remember him asking me as well, what I was doing at the time. I was with Arya," she shook her head. "I was gathering herbs for treatments just in case someone should have injured themselves during the hunt. Arya was teaching Nymeria something as we walked in the woods."
"It is a confusing matter, indeed," Ned noted. "A part of me feels as though I should never have come here. I should have listened to my wife when she said to stay back." He sighed heavily and then looked towards Nysa. "That is even more reason why I need you to go back to Winterfell. I do not trust the lions with the safety of my family and that includes you and your brother among them."
"When do we leave?"
"I'm hoping to arrange for something tomorrow, the quicker the better," he answered. "This time I won't let anything keep you all back. It has become too dangerous. There is a ship leaving during midday. Pack your things tonight but do so quietly," he cautioned. "After I speak with my daughters, help them as well. Then Jory will be overseeing that you all get home safely after that."
"But what about you?"
"I must ask that if something should happen, that you not look back," Ned warned her.
"But Lord Stark..."
"House Cassel has served House Stark faithfully and you must help your brother continue to do so. If there is trouble you will take Arya and Sansa and leave with your brother's guards."
"Lord Stark, I cannot leave you behind," her eyes began to water.
"You must, Nysa. Promise me that you will be safe, that you will ensure my daughters are safe," he moved to the table where he was sitting and pulled out three sealed letters. "One is for Lord Rickard Karstark, the second is for Lord Howland Reed and the third you must deliver to Lady Catelyn." She nodded and took them with a shaky hand. "I do not trust to send it through the crown's ravens. It is important," he placed one hand on them and the other on her shoulder, "it is highly important that you promise me to leave King's Landing should danger present itself. Arya may insist on returning for me, but do not let her. Do not stay back yourself. I've already informed your brother earlier. You all must leave."
Nysa bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. By now the tears had begun falling. Lord Stark pulled her into his arms, giving her a brief hug before releasing her and setting her aright.
"There are many things that I regret that I did during the war," he smiled, "but you are not one of them. I have raised you among my own. I helped Jory look after you. Repay my kindness with obedience, Nysa. Leave King's Landing with Jory and my daughters," he ordered.
"I will, Lord Stark."
"Father," a knock sounded on the door then. It was Arya. Nysa went to open the door. Sansa was there as well and both their faces showed concern.
"Please, sit," he urged his two daughters to do so. "Stay here, Nysa," he caught the young woman's attention before she attempted to leave. He saw her lift her sleeve to quickly wipe away the wetness on her face. She stood behind the two girls and looked towards the floor. He knew it was a hard command to follow, but she'd do it. He got up and slowly went towards his daughters. "I'm sending you both back to Winterfell."
"What?"
Of course, it would be his eldest who would protest. "Listen," he began.
"What about Joffrey?
"Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you're sending us home," Arya looked her father over.
"What," he proclaimed before shaking his head, "no."
"Please father, please don't," Sansa pleaded.
"You can't. I've got my lessons with Syrio," Arya interjected. He looked up towards Nysa hoping that she would have been of help to him. "I'm finally getting good," his daughter explained.
"This isn't a punishment. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety," Ned replied.
"Can I take Syrio back with us?"
"Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher," Sansa glared at her sister before turning back to him. "I can't go!"
Ned looked up at Nysa who finally stepped forward. "Your mother misses you, Sansa," Nysa stated. "She wishes to see you. Bran and Rickon," she named, "even Robb, they all miss you. We've been away for months now. I think that you are at that age where you need your mother."
"I will have one soon enough, when I wed Prince Joffrey," Sansa turned to her. "Why aren't you helping me? Why aren't you telling father that I should stay?"
"Sansa," Nysa sighed, "Prince Joffrey has been avoiding you since the incident at..."
"Yes, well whose fault was that," Sansa stood up and glared at her. "If you had been watching Arya and listening to the orders of your Lord as a good bastard ought to then perhaps none of that would have happened!"
"Sansa," Ned scolded.
"Why am I even speaking to you," she narrowed her eyes at Nysa, "you don't understand what it's like to be in love!"
"And you think that is how someone in love treats you," Nysa questioned. "If Prince Joffrey truly felt that way about you, don't you think he would have comforted you or at least protested his mother's orders about Lady?"
"He can't go against his mother, the Queen!"
"Why are you taking her side, Sansa? She gave the order."
"She had to protect Prince Joffrey," Sansa excused.
"At the expense of causing you suffering," Nysa questioned. "A mother knows how to comfort, not destroy."
"Well, you have no mother, so how would you know," Sansa sassed causing Nysa to step back slightly. It was a cruel statement and it broke Nysa's heart to hear Sansa say it. "You wouldn't understand Joffrey's position or mine. He had to obey his mother and as his betrothed, I must follow him. You can't comprehend what it's like to be betrothed! I do! I am the one who is to become Queen. Girls like you don't get married, that's why Robb never asked for your hand!"
"Sansa, that's enough," Ned barked as Sansa turned back to her father.
Nysa gripped her chest and tried to calm herself down. Arya looked at her with concern. "Sansa, you had no right," Arya pushed her sister.
"It's true! Joffrey came to me today, father," Sansa began. "He apologized and called me 'his Lady'. And I am meant to be his Queen and have his babies," her voice was pleading.
Arya groaned in disgust, "Seven hells!"
It only made Nysa feel sickened at the thought that that was what Queen Cersei had meant. Joffrey did go and sweet talk Sansa somehow. And what was worst was that they somehow made it look as though Nysa were against her, as though everything that happened was Nysa's fault. She shook her head and tried not to concentrate on Sansa's words about love, marriage, Robb and of course her status as a bastard. Sansa had never spoke against her like that. And she knew, she knew instantly that the Queen had somehow poisoned Sansa's mind.
"When you're old enough," Lord Stark began, "I'll make you a match with someone who is worthy of you. Someone who is brave," he began to list things the opposite of Joffrey, hoping his daughter could see reason, "gentle and strong."
"I don't want someone brave and gentle and strong," Sansa proclaimed, "I want him!"
Arya held back a snicker and even then, Nysa had to admit that Sansa's foolishness was getting out of hand. Her eyes caught Lord Stark's then who also tried to hide back a smirk.
"He'll be the greatest King that ever was, a golden lion," she continued, "and I'll give him sons with beautiful, blonde hair."
"The lion is not his sigil, idiot," Arya exclaimed as Nysa's face then smiled. "He's a stag, like his father."
"I'm glad you remembered something from your lessons," Nysa teased Arya as she stuck her tongue out.
"Joffrey is not like his father. He's nothing like that old, drunk King," Sansa shook her head and looked back at her father.
It was then that Nysa did as well to see that all color seemed to disappear from Lord Stark's face. "Lord Stark?"
"Nysa, inform Septa Mordane of the plans," he instructed her. "Go on, girls," he turned around, leaving the three of them baffled. "Start packing your things."
"What," Sansa cried.
"Something is wrong, isn't it," Arya asked Nysa quietly as she nodded her head. "Come on," Arya grabbed her sister's hand and began dragging her out.
"But it's not fair! Nysa, tell father it's not fair!"
"Let's go, Sansa," Nysa pushed her lightly out the door.
Nysa walked towards the room where Lord Stark had met with Ser Barristan and Jory. She knew she was not privy to the meeting. However, there was currently a Lannister guard requesting to see Ser Barristan and Lord Stark. She looked up at the guard and noticed that he didn't sneer or anything. It looked like he was rather scared of being here in the Hand's tower.
She knocked on the door and waited as Jory answered. "There's a guard out here to see Lord Stark and Ser Barristan."
Jory narrowed his eyes at her before looking past her shoulder. He then nodded slowly and went to shut the door.
"I'm sure they'll be right out," Nysa looked over at the guard.
Quickly the doors opened and Ser Barristan stepped out, explaining that he would accompany the guard back to the throne room but Lord Stark would be joining us in a moment.
"Nysa?"
"Yes, Lord Stark," she turned to him.
Ser Barristan, her brother and the other guard were down the hall by now.
"I wish to discuss other matters with you." She nodded. "I have written to your Lord Uncle who will come for you when the time is right. I ask that when he does, you remember everything that you were taught. Not only the graciousness of the North but also the conniving of the court," he gestured around them. "You will need both."
"What of my betrothal?"
"I have informed him that I have given my consent. Both you and Torrhen care deeply for one another. I'm sure there is no need to subject you to an arranged marriage as so many are. We only need for Lord Karstark to accept the terms. Be wary though, your Uncle may object and that is where I need to you remember the North, remember where you were raised."
Nysa nodded again.
"Be careful who you trust, who you respect, who you place in high regard," he warned. "You know who are your friends and you know those who are not. I swore an oath to protect you and have done my best up until now. You must make your own path now, Nysa."
"Of course, Lord Stark."
"That's a good girl," he smiled. "I believe your father and mother would be proud of you."
"Was my mother Lady Ashara?" Lord Stark frowned then. "Are the rumors about her true?" Lord Stark sighed and sat back on his chair. "Forgive me, my Lord. It was not my place to ask," she made her way to the door.
"I was not in love with Lady Ashara," Lord Stark stated. Nysa looked back over her shoulder at him. "I thought her pretty. I liked her smile. And at the time, my brother Brandon was betrothed to Catelyn." She moved away from the door and closed it gently, eager to listen to his story. "We met at a tourney, much like the one that the King had. And at the feast that was held, I danced with her - much like the knights who danced with you. She called me handsome and smiled at me. But I was too shy to ask anything else of her. I guess in a way, Robb inherited that trait from me," he looked at Nysa and then sighed.
"What became of the Lady?"
"After that feast, it was known that the Lady did come to be with child. And though many thought it was me, it was not. I reserved my honor for another, even more beautiful than her." Nysa furrowed her eyebrows causing Lord Stark to chuckle. "I speak of my wife, Lady Catelyn."
"I know that you love her, Lord Stark. Anyone who has seen the two of you would be a fool to not notice it."
"In the beginning my feelings for my wife could not be characterized as love, not at all. She was beautiful and lovely, everything a proper Lady should be. I had never met someone like her before. She did not flirt as Lady Ashara had. No," he shook his head and smiled softly, "she held that in place for the one she would wed and I felt spiteful knowing that at first it would not have been me. I was the second-born son. She belonged to my brother, everything to my brother."
Nysa could see the slight grief that still lingered in his eyes as Lord Stark spoke of his deceased brother.
"When I was told that I should wed her, I was afraid that I could never measure up to him. I feared that she still loved Brandon. There were times, even when we were at Winterfell that I felt that way. I was always aspiring to measure up to my brother."
"But the two of you do love one another," she insisted.
"Aye, we do. I think while away from her, during the war, I began to feel that way. It only cemented itself further when I held our son for the first time. When Catelyn returned her love, I felt undeserving of it. She was worthy of a fierce fighter like Brandon."
"Lord Stark you must not degrade yourself like this."
"I am merely sharing with you what most likely ails my son," he looked towards her. "Brandon was charming and could easily win the smiles of maids everywhere he went. But not I. I lived in his shadow and felt that I still did even long after his death. It is a challenging thing for a man to cope with by constantly being compared to another. Remember that," he nodded to her, "especially when dealing with my son."
"Lord Stark if I am betrothed to..."
"Do you think it will be easy for Robb to see you with Torrhen?" She shook her head. "It was not easy for me to imagine my brother in my place next to my wife. There were times that I thought she would have wanted him there instead of me. But Catelyn never did compare us. She handled the situation better than anyone else and has been the perfect Lady for Winterfell and for me. I would never dishonor her," he said as Nysa narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to understand why Lord Stark was telling her this. "As for Lady Ashara, she was merely a maid that I had danced with and nothing more."
"Why do they say that I resemble her?"
"Perhaps it is your eyes and dark hair," he answered simply.
"So, she is not Jon's mother either since the two of you did not," she dared to ask.
Lord Stark shook his head. "No. Though many a man were victim to her beauty, I did not indulge in it. Your father met her also but he did not look her way. I promised Jon that we would speak of his mother when I returned North but should everything not go according to plan, you must write to him, tell him that his mother was of noble-birth. She loved to ride and fight. She would be proud of the type of man he has become. And like you, he has an inheritance waiting for him. Remember the letters you have?"
"Yes."
"One of them is for Lady Catelyn. She will know what to do," he nodded.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter."
Lord Baelish stepped in and Nysa had to turn away to avoid an unladylike snort at the man's presence. "Everything is set, Lord Stark," Lord Baelish said.
"Remember what you've been told, Nysa," Lord Stark said as she helped him to stand. He limped his way towards Lord Baelish who cast a look at Nysa.
"Will the Lady not be joining us today?"
"No," he shook his head. "Remember," Lord Stark called out to Nysa, "remember everything."
Jory had just deposited his sister's trunk in the wagon when he heard shouting from down the street. His head whipped around to see several Lannister guards riding quickly towards them.
"What is the meaning of this," Vayon asked but no one answered him. Instead a guard dismounted quickly and plunged a sword into Vayon's stomach.
Jory hurried and withdrew his sword, fighting off the other guards. He had fought Lannister guardsmen before. He and Wyl were able to contain quite a few of them. Someone had tried to move Vayon Poole into the back of the wagon but another guard jumped up and slashed his throat. Jory was just about to climb onto the wagon when the Lannister guard dropped his sword from his hand. He watched as the guard coughed and blood began to drip from his mouth before he fell forward and out of the wagon.
Whipping his head around, Jory stopped and looked to see his sister standing there with the bow in her hand. She quickly reached back to grab another arrow and walked out of the entryway slowly, observing for any other guards that would happen to come out.
"Anyone injured," Jory asked as he surveyed his fellow guards.
"None," Desmond grunted before kicking a Lannister guard, "just them."
"Hurry up and get the girls," Jory instructed his sister. "There will be more men."
It was then that Arya came running out. "Nysa," she shouted and crashed into Nysa, "the guards, they're fighting with Syrio! We must go back! We have," Arya stopped and looked around. "What is happening?"
"There are guards in the tower," Wyl asked Arya, instead of answering her.
"Yes," she nodded. "I was about to go with them. They said father sent them but then," Arya shook her head, "Syrio reminded me that father would not have sent Lannister men to fetch me."
"They said your father sent them," Jory questioned to which Arya nodded. "How many of them were there?"
"I do not remember, six maybe. But Ser Meryn Trant was there, demanding that he be allowed to take me. I think," she shook her head, "I think that he killed Syrio. We have to go back and get him!"
"I'll go," Nysa told her.
"No, you won't," Jory replied.
"You told me to get the girls. Sansa is still in there."
"Let's move this back inside," Cayn told them. "If more guards come, then we will not want it to look as though we are still alive."
"The guards are already here," Desmond added, "up in the tower."
"Syrio fought some of them," Arya protested.
"We'll have to forget about the wagon," Wyl looked at the cart before turning back.
"We can't just leave him," Nysa gestured towards Vayon Poole.
"Remember what Lord Stark told us," Jory grabbed her arm. "We can't look back. We need to get out of the City!"
"But..."
Jory shook his sister. "They know that we're leaving. Why do you think they sent men to kill us? The Queen probably sent them."
"Lord Stark is in danger, then," Nysa protested.
"What did he tell you, Nysa? Remember what he told us," his grip on her shoulders tightened. "We need to get out of here. If we linger any longer, who knows what will happen?"
"Lady Sansa," one of the guards reminded them.
"If we ride out on horseback, it'll be too suspicious right now. The less we carry, the less there is to slow us down." Nysa's bottom lip began to tremble at how quickly they had to change plans. "Get Lady Sansa and do not worry about our fallen. They'll bury our dead."
"They'll put them on spikes and you know it!"
"Go and get Sansa," he told her angrily, pushing her back slightly.
Arya jumped onto the wagon and began rummaging through her trunk. She had just pulled out her sword and tied it to her side. "I know a way we can get out of the walls undetected."
Arya led Jory and the others inside the stable where they would wait for Nysa to come down with Sansa. A few feet inside and she saw Septa Mordane being led away. Their eyes caught and she almost began to cry as Septa Mordane shook her head slightly. Their Septa's mouth moved, whispering something that Nysa tried to pick up. She watched again, retreating towards the shadows as one of the guards turned to her direction.
"Sansa," Nysa whispered and the Septa smiled lightly and pushed the guard next to her. The second guard who had turned to look at Nysa's direction, returned to the Septa. They started to leave the tower again, giving Nysa the opportunity to look for Sansa.
She hurried up towards the steps and that's when she saw Ser Meryn. She lifted her bow and let her arrow fly. He groaned, falling to his knees, his hand gripping his thigh.
"You fucking whore," he snarled.
Nysa notched another arrow and hurried down another stairway, leaving behind Ser Meryn to curse and shout at her. She had to find Sansa. Nysa moved through the hallways, navigating around until she came to Sansa's chambers. She was being dragged away by the Hound. He spotted her. In the same moment that she lifted her bow, the Hound pulled Sansa in front of him.
"Drop the bow, girl," the Hound ordered.
"Release Lady Sansa," Nysa countered.
"I do not take your orders from little girls."
"No," she smiled, "you take your orders from little boys."
"You do not speak that way of the King."
"You are mishandling the betrothed of said King," Nysa took a step closer towards him. "Release her and I'll drop my bow," she lied, knowing that she had her brother's dagger hidden under her skirts. She'd give the Hound a scar on the other side of his face.
"Alright," the Hound placed Sansa in front of him but slowly let her walk towards Nysa.
"Nysa," Sansa shouted just as she lowered her bow.
A force pushed Nysa forward, causing her to collapse to her knees. She turned around to see Ser Meryn limping forward. He picked her up by her hair and threw her against the wall.
"No," Sansa screamed and Nysa turned to see that the Hound had grabbed her again.
"Stark guards are outside," Nysa strained as she kicked out her feet. "All of your guards are dead. The two of you won't make it far."
"You think I'm scared of a little Northman force," Ser Meryn scoffed.
"You should be," Nysa narrowed her eyes at him before hitting his throat with her fist. He dropped her and that's when Nysa grabbed her brother's dagger and stabbed Ser Meryn's other thigh - just as Jory told her. She pushed past him, grabbing a nearby torch and flying it towards the Hound. "Run to the stables Sansa," she urged as the girl took off.
Nysa hurried after her, slinging the bow over her shoulder and running with a tight grasp on Jory's dagger back towards the stable. She just turned the corner when a sharp pain shot through her back.
"Nysa?"
"Go! Keep running, Sansa!"