Chapter 39
Queen Rhaenys had left Alyx and Merianne Frey to look over her son. She would have preferred Lady Sheira Blackwood to stay with them - the woman was older and had a good head on her shoulders. However, where she was going she needed some guidance and wisdom. Lyra, Wyl and Waylyn were also there with her son, so she knew that if her son needed her, the guards would fetch her immediately.
She strolled through the hall until her eyes landed on Princess Myrcella breaking her fast with her cousin Rosamund and Ser Jamie. Her feet stilled for a moment before she realized that Harrion's words he had spoken to her were correct. She had been addressing the Kingslayer differently. And a part of her didn't like it.
Princess Myrcella and Rosamund were to leave today. Prince Oberyn had assured her that they would be delivered safely back to Dorne - and to her betrothed. She was appalled that they had dragged the young woman through such an ordeal. Upon seeing the Queen drawing closer, Myrcella and Rosamund began to straighten out their dresses and correcting their posture.
"There is no need for such decorum, Princess, my Lady," Rhaenys assured them both before glancing at the Kingslayer. "And how do you fair on this day, Ser?"
"I am still alive," he smirked in response. "Although, I'm sure that is how you need me," he stretched out his arms - including the one where his hand was missing. Rhaenys heard Myrcella suck in a gasp but didn't address it. Rather she kept her eyes on the Kingslayer.
"Forgive me, Princess Myrcella, Lady Rosamund, I would beg a word with Ser Jamie," she smiled kindly, nodding her head in their direction but not quite meeting their gaze. They left - but not in a hurry as though they were in fear - both dropping into a curtsy before her. Rhaenys turned the other way and nodded as Ser Barristan, Smalljon and Corgan came to stand behind her. "Ser Jamie, this is Lady Sheira Blackwood - one of my Ladies."
"My Lady," he went to stand and bow before her.
"Kingslayer," Sheira replied. Neither Jamie nor Rhaenys missed the sharp way his title came out of Sheira's mouth.
Rhaenys smiled as she sat herself in Myrcella's vacated seat. Sheira stood next to Rhaenys' chair and studied the knight before her. Rhaenys wanted to make sure that everything went according to plan.
"Your brother is wed to Lady Sansa," she announced, waiting for his reaction. She hardly expected him to begin laughing. "Do you doubt its truth?"
"Never, my Queen. It sounds like something that my father would do, secure his position in the North - secure our family's position rather. With Tyrion wed to the Stark girl, in front of the Seven, in front of all those gathered at the Capital - there's not much that the young Wolf could do."
"I was afraid you might say that," she admitted.
"Is my brother that bad? He has faults - as do we all. However, I believe he would treat the girl kindly." Rhaenys narrowed her eyes. "Kinder than she would have been treated should Joffrey had wed her."
"Joffrey had her stripped in the throne room, abused by his Kingsguards," Rhaenys pointed out as Jamie's eyes widened slightly in shock before he turned away. "You've been away from the Capital for too long. Your sworn brothers have mishandled their oath."
"Our oath is to the King," he said in a tight voice.
Rhaenys glared at him. "But obviously yours was not. In more ways than one. You murdered one King and bedded another King's wife." He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. "I feel that you have paid for your actions to House Targaryen," she glanced at his absent hand before her eyes lowered to his leg sticking out from under the table.
"I will limp for life," he said through gritted teeth, "and I will never hold a sword again!" His anger was rising but Rhaenys kept her cool.
"And I will never speak to my mother or father again," she reminded, slowly standing from her chair. "I will never know about the ancestors who possess the gift that I have, who can use fire to heal. I must fight for what is rightfully mine, what is rightfully my son's! I will never know what it was like to be a true dragon because I was raised as a bastard - forced into hiding because those whom my grandfather trusted had betrayed him. And those people belong to that of House Lannister," she demanded as she watched his chest puff out in defense. "This is not why I came here to speak with you."
"I'm sure it's not," he gritted through his teeth.
"You forget that I am Queen," she stated.
The Kingslayer cleared his throat before sitting straighter and looking over at her - giving her his full attention.
"After I relayed the news of your brother's matrimony, I had hoped that we could discuss my brother," Rhaenys said with a slight nervousness in her voice. She wasn't certain what she would hear from the Kingslayer about her parent's. But he and Ser Barristan were possibly the only ones who would give her an honest report. "I would like to make him King."
Jamie leaned back against his chair this time, relaxing his posture. "I thought you're wed to the King."
"Of the North and of the Trident," Rhaenys corrected. "My brother - Rhaegon Targaryen - is the rightful King of all of Westeros," she smiled.
"You'll find the people aren't as forgiving. Your father and Lyanna Stark started a war - allowed it to happen. If she had simply come out and said that she was having the Prince's bastard, then all would have been well."
"I cannot know what happened between my father and Lyanna Stark. All that I know is what has been told to me. And apparently, I was not told the entire truth," she paused and met his gaze. "I want to know, though."
The misshaped knight studied her, the doubt evident on his face. Did he think that she would not be able to grasp the truth, to understand her parent's motivations? Did he believe that she would be hurt to discover that her father had never truly loved her mother? She did her best not to think on the matter - on both of those matters. After a moment, the Kingslayer sighed and nodded his head - confirming that he would indulge her.
"Your father respected your mother, adored her - thought her sweet and kind. You must understand that your father had two sides to him - one that loved the people, that was nurturing and compassionate. He was drawn to your mother's sweet-temper."
"And let me guess," she smiled - though it wasn't a happy one. "The other side of him was drawn to Lyanna Stark's wild, northern temper."
"Ser Barristan would know more of what was in your father's heart." She looked up at the Kingslayer. "Prince Rhaegar often confided in Ser Barristan. The Sword of Morning was his best friend - but he has since passed. The White Bull and Prince Lewyn were often your mother's confidants." Jamie smiled then. "Ser Oswell would be proud of you," he noted, "to know that you took his old castle and restored it to House Whent."
"It belongs to House Frey now."
He tilted his head back and forth. "The young Lord's mother is a Whent. And his name is Oswell - named after the former Kingsguard. They were good men - every one of them," he smiled. "Though they never said it out loud - I know that they couldn't wait for your father to take the throne. He would have been a great King."
Rhaenys turned away and looked at Sheira before closing her eyes. It did hurt a little to hear about the possibility of her father's reign.
"Your father believed Aegon to be the Prince that was Promised," he continued. "The day he was born - was momentous indeed. But the day that you were born," he paused, "every fire in the Red Keep burned bright before it went dark. It frightened me, frightened many of the guards. But your father - pushed past everyone - and entered the birthing chamber. And he said that your brother may have been the Prince that was Promised - the reason why he named him Aegon. You," he smiled at Rhaenys, "you were going to help your brother - just as Queen Rhaenys had done with Aegon the Conqueror. You were meant to do remarkable things, my Queen."
"Do you believe it," she asked.
"You survived this long," he added with a smile.
"I survived this long because of House Stark."
"Now you know why the honorable Ned Stark allowed people to believe that you were the bastard daughter of someone in the North. And Jon," he tutted, "everyone thinks he's a bastard also. But a bastard he is not, a slight technicality I'm sure. Your father wed Lyanna - in the cover of night."
"I was there."
All three of them at the table turned to see Ser Barristan approach.
"You were there," Ser Barristan nodded to her. "Your mother was there." Rhaenys must have displayed shock on her face because Ser Barristan began to explain. "He and your mother had argued the night before the tourney at Harrenhal. You were just born," he smiled as she felt her face flush with all sorts of emotions. "Ser Jamie is right. Your father adored your mother. He never meant to hurt her. And he commanded that Aegon would be King and you would be his Queen. But he couldn't leave a son behind. Rhaegar assured Elia that Rhaegon wouldn't take her son's place. And Lyanna wouldn't replace your mother. But Rhaegar was compassionate and saw to it that they would be cared for. That his mistake would be cleared."
Rhaenys stood up then - feeling angry and frustrated. "Rhaegon is not a mistake. Don't you..."
"The actions that led to Rhaegon's birth - in your father's mind - was a mistake," Ser Barristan stated as she shook her head and looked away.
Rhaenys thought then about her mother. Remembering that Robb had - at one time - preferred another woman's company over her own, had made her feel pain in her heart. She had not pictured her marriage like that. She believed with all her heart that Torrhen would be faithful to her. And she had begun to hate Robb for it. She had unknowingly pushed Robb away - she didn't admit it until it was too late, until he was whispering and smiling with Jeyne Westerling.
She shook her head and looked up the old knight "I knew that there were those who wed for advantage. But Lord Stark had raised me to believe that I would wed for love." Ser Barristan smiled kindly at her. "I always thought that my father and mother were the same," she wiped her face.
"Your mother was hurt by your father's actions, my Queen. But at the same time, she didn't loath Lyanna Stark. I know it's difficult to grasp. But your mother was forgiving of your father's indiscretion. After your brother's birth, I'm sure that an announcement would have been made - declaring him a Prince and Lyanna Stark a Princess." Ser Barristan stepped closer to her. "Your father loved your mother, Rhaenys. Perhaps not at first - but he did come to love her. He also came to love Lyanna Stark. I have never loved before, so I cannot explain it. But I heard that it was possible - to love two people."
Rhaenys shook her head and looked to Ser Jamie.
"If anyone knew that you were the daughter of Prince Rhaegar, you wouldn't have lived long as you did, your brother wouldn't have lived long as he has. Robert would have seen to that."
"Before any Lannister, I'm sure," Sheira commented.
Rhaenys was reminded of why she was here. She turned back to Ser Jamie. "You are the only villain alive, Ser." She took in his shocked expression. "King Robert is dead, so I cannot judge him for his crimes against my family. The Mountain is dead. Ser Amory Lorch is dead. There is only House Lannister left. There is only you."
"And what is it that you want me to do," he questioned.
"I've heard that your father hasn't named an heir for Casterly Rock, yet," Rhaenys smiled - this time with a mischievous expression upon her face.
"Where is Daisy," Harrion questioned. Actually, he didn't care where the young kitchen maid had disappeared to. Harrion missed the way Leila blushed innocently at a comment he'd make, the dreamy look in her eyes when she looked off into the distance, and the outspoken nature of her sharp tongue. He wouldn't admit it - out loud - but he was glad that Leila had walked into the room.
Of course, he also couldn't stop himself from goading her.
"Daisy said she was going to massage my neck," he tilted his head back and forth. "It is rather stiff."
He noticed the way Leila narrowed her eyes before muttering something as she walked towards the hearth. "I'm sure it is," she said loudly before grabbing a piece of cloth.
Was she jealous, he thought.
"If you must know, Daisy has been sent somewhere else."
She is jealous, he decided. Good.
Before he could comprehend what she was doing, Leila returned to his side, placing the heated cloth onto his shoulder. He winced slightly before groaning in delight. "The heat will help to relax the tension in your shoulders, therefore easing the stiffness in your neck," she explained as he felt her soft hands glide over his bare back. He closed his eyes, reveling in her proximity and caresses.
The pair remained silent as she tended to him. Neither wanted to interrupt the comfort of being in one's presence.
Tyrion Lannister watched as Sansa sat beneath the tent with his cousins - Lya and Lorena were present with her. He immediately remembered seeing her lift her head courageously and walk away from the throne room - vowing her love for Joffrey, seeing her speak to Cersei with hidden comments that had to be read between the lines - she just may survive us yet.
She was young - but hardly naive any longer. She kept Lya and Lorena closer now since his father had revealed that little detail. She praised them with pretty comments and pleasant courtesies. Cersei called her a little dove. But she was growing. And dare he say it, but she was obtaining a little lioness to her personality. He smirked and looked away. Tyrion was certain that Sansa would call it being a wolf.
Wolves were honorable and loyal, Tyrion though. Lions were cunning and powerful. Somewhere in the Riverlands - he turned to look in that direction - a dragon was breathing fire and taking blood. Though he had only conversed with the girl a few times, he'd like to think that young Queen had a rational head about her shoulders - at least more so than his own sister.
"My Lord husband." Tyrion turned back to see Sansa kindly smiling at him, while his cousins blushed and looked away. "Would you care to join us?"
He cleared his throat and turned to see a few guards looking at him cautiously.
"You are out in the sun, my husband," Sansa urged again. "Come inside," she held up her hand.
She was still young - so very young, Tyrion thought.
But her sixteenth name-day had just passed, surely, she had grown some. And she had. Her eyes were sultry - a deep blue that a man could drown in. And her skin was so smooth, her curves so soft - a warrior would surrender to her prowess. Oh yes, Sansa Stark would be able play the game well. She'd do it subtly and quietly. You wouldn't even know she was there until she attacked.
"My husband seems to be in shock," Sansa smiled as his two cousins held back their giggles.
Tyrion cleared his throat again and walked up slowly towards her. Taking her hand in his he bowed to bestow a soft kiss upon her knuckles - ignoring the thrill of feeling something so delicate in his hands. "Forgive me, my Lady wife," he stood straight and smiled, "I was merely pondering the implications of meeting your brother. The last I conversed with the King of the North..."
"And of the Trident," Lya - the younger one - added, which to Tyrion's amusement received a nod of approval from Sansa.
"Yes," Tyrion answered and nodded toward them both. "The last meeting that I had with him was rather tense. Your brother Bran had just awakened," he looked at Sansa - sensing her emotions show through, the soft adoration she held for her brothers before she covered it up. "Your mother had already left Winterfell and headed south."
Sansa smiled before smoothing out her dress. "For a while you were in my mother's company, were you not, my Lord husband?"
"I was," Tyrion nodded. "And I have to say that she truly is a beauty," he winked at his cousin who giggled, "and she has all the honor and duty of House Tully and," he paused as Sansa poured him a small cup of wine, "thank you."
She nodded at him as he moved to stand be her side.
"She held a sense of perseverance and loyalty - one that I'm sure any wolf from the North would display," he bestowed praise upon Sansa's House before taking her hand in his. "I am both saddened and joyous about the false alarm," he said as his two cousins gasped.
It was obvious that they truly believed she had been with child. Now that they were on their way to Casterly Rock, Tyrion and Sansa had agreed that they could reveal the truth. His father would never make them return - not with them so far from the Capitol.
"I am saddened as well," Sansa feigned grief as her hand touched her stomach. "But why are you joyous, my lord?"
"Because I'm certain that our child will have all the beauty, honor and loyalty from its mother," he added as he placed his hand on hers over her stomach, "when the time is right."
Sansa leaned forward - surprisingly him - and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. Pulling back, he admired the blush on her cheek before she turned her attention back to Lorena. Tyrion followed suit this time as they changed the subject matter. Meeting the Young Wolf weighed heavily on his mind, but he was also confident that he may just make it out alive.
Rhaenys smiled brightly as her son cooed in her arms. Catelyn held a serene smile on her lips, watching them. Her grandson was turning to look more like a Stark as the days passed. She sighed then, thinking of how Robb was so much like his father. He was missing this. Ned had missed this with Robb.
"Lady Catelyn," Rhaenys caught her attention as she wrapped the babe tighter with the cloths before thanking Marissa and Sheira for their assistance. "Would you like to hold him while I change my gown?"
Alyx and Merianne stood then to assist the Queen as Catelyn held out her arms for her grandson. He looked so much like Ned - perhaps a touch of Brandon was there also. Overall, he looked like a Stark. Certainly, the young Prince would need a name - a strong Northern name. Rhaenys wanted to wait until Robb returned. But much time could pass before then.
The babe's eyes opened and smiled at his grandmother, warming Catelyn's heart. His eyes changed the shade of grey when he smiled - she noted that it was the same as Ned. She moved her thumb to rub against the babe's chin as he began to stir and kick out from his confinement. When she touched his tiny foot and did the same as her husband had done with Robb, the babe began to coo and smile.
She looked at the babe's eyes noticing the same foggy shade as her husband and immediately began to feel tears fill her eyes.
"You may look like a Tully but inside you are all Stark," Ned commented.
"Ned," she sobbed softly as she held the babe tight to her chest. He was missing this, too. This babe was a Stark - there was no doubt about it. He had the same ticklish spot that all Stark children had. He could calm down the same way Ned would calm the children when they were babes, when Robb was crying, when Rickon was hurt or when Bran couldn't go outside of the Keep. Ned knew how to handle them when they got too 'wolfish' for her. And her grandson would have adored his grandfather - she was sure of it.
Could she do it alone?
Could she help this babe to become a wonderful Northern Lord - or King - just as her husband was? Just as her husband would?
"I think he loves the girl," Ned observed.
"They are too young to think of love."
"Look how he follows her about, watches her and turns into a nervous gelding whenever she comes too close," he clicked his tongue. "I told you that there would be trouble with those two."
Catelyn turned to him and playfully pushed at his shoulder. "I believe I was the one who informed you of that, husband."
"Oh, were you," he smiled, his eyes turning into that cloudy grey, the shade that would storm over his eyes with passion and desire for her.
Catelyn shrieked as he began to chase her down the halls until they found themselves in the stables. He had wrapped his arms around her middle, tackling her down into the large pile of straw. They both laughed and wrestled gently before she allowed him to press a kiss to her lips. All talk of their son and the hidden dragon was forgotten.
She felt her heart break slowly, thinking of Ned and how she would love to tell him that she was right - they were both right. Robb had grown to love Rhaenys, whether it was by her and Ned's design or something fated among House Targaryen and House Stark - she didn't know. But she was certain that they would be talking of it right now, observing their children and sharing in secrets and smiles with one another.
"Oh Ned," she touched the babe's face and cried as his eyes reflected his grandfather's - a grandfather that he would never know, a grandfather that could never hold him, train him and love him.
"Little Ned," Rhaenys said as Catelyn's head snapped up.
Marissa and Merianne quickly went to her side to help her wipe her tears and check if the babe was okay. Catelyn smiled at the small bundle in her arms as they stepped back. "He just," she paused, "he reminds me so much of Ned."
"Then that's what we'll name him," Rhaenys decided.
She looked back at her daughter-by-law. "But, I thought you..."
"Wanted to wait for Robb, yes," she nodded and looked away with a smile. "But who better to name the young Prince, then his only remaining grandparent - his grandmother who helped raise both his father and mother," Rhaenys moved to sit beside her as she ran a hand over her son's head.
"I look at him and I see Ned," Catelyn said as she heard Lady Sheira Blackwood usher the younger women out. "He is a Stark, Nysa. And I know that he'll be just as honorable, loyal and just as Ned had been."
"Prince Eddard Stark," Rhaenys stated, "our little Ned."
Catelyn sobbed joyfully as she and Rhaenys embraced - the babe between them cooing quietly. It was as if Ned was still here with her - with all of them. The name fit, and she was so grateful for everything.
They had talked every night, sat out on the balcony - Leila wrapped tightly in furs as she leaned against Harrion. Oh, they still argued every now and then. She found that she enjoyed speaking with him. He was different, treated her differently.
This night, he revealed his greatest fears and concerns to her. And she found that her heart went out to him - this man that she had been tending to.
"Your father would be proud of you," Leila touched his arm.
Harrion sighed and pressed his bearded cheek into her hair. "I want to finish what he started but at the same time, I want to go North and be with my mother and sister. Karhold needs me."
"And Karhold will be fortunate to have you," she commented as she felt him smile against her.
"And you, what do you want," he asked.
Leila sighed and buried herself further into Harrion. "I can tell you what I don't want," she laughed lightly. "I certainly could do without being here in Casterly Rock - the place that every person desires because they think it holds so much power, the place where everyone in the Westerlands turns to for approval. No one wants to garner Lord Tywin's disapproval," she spat out sarcastically before sitting up.
She gazed out at Lannisport and saw the ships at the dock.
"I want to get away. I want to be my own person. I want," she paused and shook her head. "I want something I can't have."
Harrion touched her arm and when she turned to look at him, she saw something she had wanted to see for all the years of her life - acceptance. "I want something I can't have, either."
"What is it," she whispered.
He leaned forward, caressing her face before wrapping his hand possessively around her neck and bringing her in for a kiss.
Lord Tywin Lannister nodded to the men after commanding them to travel through the river bend where the waters had lowered. This was the perfect spot where they could move through the Riverlands without being detected. Of course, a small group of men - numbering twenty or so - had been easily dispatched and hardly caused a scene. Now they had armor from House Frey. With that they could come and go - not only into Harrenhal but also into the Twins.
Ser Rolph Spicer glanced back at the castle.
"Do not worry, we will leave your niece once Lord Oswell Frey bends the knee," Tywin stated. "What I want lies at the Twins."
"Are you certain that she isn't heavily guarded," Ser Kevan questioned Ser Rolph.
"They have women guarding the young Queen. They should be easily dealt with."
"If it was so easy then one must question, why you didn't do it yourself," Lord Prester questioned.
"Perhaps the same reason why you and Ser Loren abandoned House Prester," Tywin clicked his tongue to stop the men's bickering. He turned his horse and watched all of his Lords raise their eyes towards him. "Remember that we attack swiftly and quietly. Do not underestimate them - whether they are women or not," he eyed Ser Rolph with disdain.
In truth, he didn't enjoy the presence of the sniveling knight.
"A woman killed Clegane," Tywin reminded him before turning his attention to his brother. "Kill whomever you come across but leave the dragon for me."
Robb was growing anxious - everyone could see it. They had received word that Tywin was sending Sansa to Casterly Rock. The message had also said that Sansa could never leave it and soon they were going to find out why. Robb didn't like this. He didn't like being told to stay put. The others from the North heartily teased his impatient pacing about - as though he truly were a young Wolf, waiting to attack something.
The truth of the matter was that he had wanted to speak to Nysa, wanted to see her, hold her. Robb also desired to look down at his son, admire his child - watch him smile, grow, laugh. He was missing many of the first moons if he stayed here and waited for Tywin Lannister to slowly deliver his sister.
"My King," Ser Perwyn bowed before continuing to walk towards him.
Robb nodded as the knight came to stand beside him. "You have news, Ser?"
"We've found the boy."
Robb turned to look at him.
"Ser Daron's son," Perwyn reminded him as he turned his head to look down into the yard.
A young lad - possibly Bran's age - tugged his arm away from one of the guards. He held a sort of confidence about him. Oh yes, Robb thought, he was a Lannister alright. He was waiting for the young woman who had been tending to Harrion Karstark to reveal her true identity also. He allowed them to all believe that he had every Lannister in the prison cells. But Robb knew that there were still a few lingering about the castle.
Robb walked down towards them. Grey Wind had trotted towards the young boy. He watched as the young Lannister faltered slightly. It was the same response that quite a few Lannister's had when they had seen the direwolf - arrogant at first, but quickly humbled in the presence of such a creature.
The young boy took a couple steps back before the guard with him, placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small shove. He stumbled forward before righting himself again. Grey Wind sat down and looked at the boy intently - studying him as Robb approached. The boy glanced at Robb but kept his wary eyes on the direwolf.
"He will not eat you." The boy turned to Robb. "He's already been fed," Robb smiled as a few guards around him chuckled.
"Just do it," the boy dropped to his knees. "Burn me!"
A few others continued to chuckle as Greatjon Umber came and stood next to Robb. "No one is going to burn you, lad," Greatjon stated.
"That's what the man said!"
Robb glanced around at the men. "I'm not certain what any of my men here have you told you, but we do not burn people." He paused and smiled at all of them. "We leave that to the Queen." More laughter rose up into the yard, but the boy continued to look frightened. "What is your name, boy?"
"Darion, your Grace - Darion Lannister," his eyes filled with tears as he looked around in fear.
Kneeling in front of Darion, Robb placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one is going to harm you, young Lannister. I just need to know what happened to your mother and sister." Darion continued to look at everyone. "Darion," Robb got his attention. "I need to know who harmed your kin. And I give you my word that no one will cause you injury should you tell me the truth." The boy shook his head and began to look about again. "Is he here, Darion?"
"He said he would come back for me if I told anyone."
Robb nodded. "He's not coming back."
"You're lying," Darion pulled away. Grey Wind sat up, his tail swishing back and forth in anticipation of an attack. Robb placed a hand up to calm Grey Wind before turning back to the boy.
"You have my word, Darion. I know it might not mean anything to you, but it means a lot to me." He watched as Darion looked around cautiously. "Tell me," Robb commanded as the young boy's shoulders sagged.
He looked down at the ground and mumbled the sigil of the House.
Harrion slowly took off her gown from her shoulder, running his rough hands on her side. Leila felt his lips press against the base of her throat. She felt so wanton. This was certainly something that her mother wouldn't approve of, something that if any of her kin discovered would have profusely denied.
No, not with a Northern Lord - the very men who had attacked her home, held her brothers and nephews as prisoners. Her mind was becoming clearer. But the moment that Harrion bit lightly on her shoulder and gripped onto her waist, her mind was cloudy again - filled with inappropriate thoughts of all the pleasure that this man could bring to her.
Leila moaned delightfully, causing Harrion to growl and move their bodies. Now she was under him. She smiled wickedly up at this man who she loved to hate and hated to love.
He was going to take her. And she was willingly going to let him.
Osric and Jon were watching Bran, Rickon, Beth and the other children play in the woods near Winterfell. The days were getting cooler, but also brighter - in a cheerful sort of way. Someone had told Jon at the stables that it appeared Winterfell was returning to its old self. He simply smiled and nodded. For it to be the same, he knew that he'd want his father to be here. He'd want Bran to be climbing the walls again. He'd want Nysa to be here, teasing him for something - or getting them both into trouble. He'd want Robb and Arya and yes - maybe even prim and proper Sansa to be back home again. Things would never return to their 'old self'.
Suddenly, a movement caught Ghost's attention. The direwolf took off before Jon could stop him, Shaggydog and Summer fast on his heels. Osric withdrew his sword as the children hurried towards Jon's side. It was obvious that they could sense the change in the air, the shift in the woods, the tension of the wolves' disappearance.
Rickon showed a slight fearful look as he looked up at Jon. Jon patted his brother's shoulder as Meera Reed climbed out from her hiding spot, spear pointing forward as she crawled towards the woods where the wolves had taken off. The way she moved was almost animal-like. Jon could understand why they whispered about the craggonmen being part beast. The way Meera hunted and stalked was as if she were one.
"Get my brothers back to the Keep," Jon nudged Rickon to Osric's side as Osric nodded and gestured for all the children to follow him.
Meera turned to Jon as she heard a low growl, studying to see if he was prepared for whatever was coming out. Jon tried to search the darkness of the woods to discern what was out there, but he couldn't. He had finally arrived next to Meera. In the distance, behind them he heard a few guards - possibly Ronnel Woods and the small amount of men that he had.
Just before Meera was ready to charge into the woods, Summer and Shaggydog came walking out. They both turned back behind them and growled softly. Jon looked up and saw a man walking forward, shaking with both of his hands up in surrender. Ghost walking behind him, displaying the same growling snarl. The man walked into the clearing just as Ronnel Woods arrived, all of his men with their bows and swords out, pointed towards the man on the ground.
However, Jon recognized the black attire. "You're from the Wall," Jon noted as Meera looked towards him. "Are you here to take me back?"
"Yes," the man answered, "but not in the way you think."
Slowly the man looked up at Jon, causing Jon's eyes to widen in recognition. "Pyp?"
Pyp glanced at the wolves and immediately Jon called Ghost to him. As if recognizing that Ghost was obeying, Summer and Shaggydog did the same. Shaggydog plumped down on his haunches. Summer looked around before sniffing Meera.
"He's at the Keep," Meera patted his neck before the wolf took off. She was becoming a close companion - that much was obvious to Jon - not only for Bran but also to his direwolf.
"Now," Jon turned back to Pyp who fell to his knees and began to weep.
He mumbled incoherent words and babbled nonsense that no one could understand. Briefly Jon heard someone mention that the 'woods had claimed him'. He had heard that expression before to describe someone who had either gotten lost or someone who had gone crazy from being stuck in the wolfwoods for a long amount of time. Jon highly doubted that Pyp had gone insane.
"Pyp," he tried to urge the other young man to make sense. "Take a deep breath," he calmly displayed what Pyp should do. Pyp attempted to but kept shaking his head. Whatever he had to say was urgent but there was no way that he could grasp it if the man didn't calm down.
Ronnel came over near to them and grabbed Pyp's tunic, lifting him up. "You've obviously come to say something important, but my men aren't going to take you seriously unless you stop this blubbering," Ronnel pushed him back as Pyp nodded eagerly.
Jon looked at his friend then and nodded, signaling him to begin.
"They're coming," Pyp said slowly, fear in his eyes.
"Who's coming," Jon asked, steadying Pyp as the other breathlessly whispered.
"Wildlings," Pyp glanced around at the group with Jon. Meera immediately held up her spear and looked around. Ronnel gestured to someone to scout ahead. "At the Wall," he stated, which made everyone's heads turn back to him. "They're coming, one hundred thousand of em'."