Throw Me to the Wolves

by castle-in-the-air0

Alysanne Lannister comes into the world bathed in the burdens of those long dead. The blood of the lion and the dragon runs through her veins, and it is not blood well liked throughout Westeros. Thrown to the wolves, Alysanne is sent North and betrothed to Robb Stark, forever changing the game. What changes, what stays the same, and what is and never was. Updates Monday/Tuesday!

4. Moments in Time

Here are their ages at the start of this chapter!

Theon - 14

Robb - 10

Jon - 10

Alysanne - 7

Sansa - 7

Arya - 4

Bran - 3

293 AC - Alysanne

Aside from Sansa and Jeyne Poole, Alysanne found that she didn't have many friends in Winterfell. Arya was still too young to be able to participate in many of their games, and Robb seemed to have little interest in her.

She liked Jon Snow, however. He always smiled at her in the halls, and sometimes told her ways she could improve her form when she practiced her sword with Ser Addam. He had been one of the first to make her feel truly welcome when she arrived a year ago, aside from Sansa and the Lady Catelyn. Robb had been too busy following Theon around or playing with the other boys to pay much attention to her.

She didn't like Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands as he liked to remind them, at all. He told funny jokes on occasion but mostly his jokes were lewd and at the expense of others. He had a mean streak, and Alysanne was of the opinion that he thought much too high of himself and could use a good knock to the dirt. So when she came across the Greyjoy boy calling Jon a motherless bastard, she had grown quite incensed. Robb wasn't with Theon today, he would never call Jon that when he was around.

She watched as Jon ran away, and her heart broke a little for him. It wasn't his fault he didn't know his mother. She clenched her fists and started towards Theon. "Theon! You leave him alone!"

He turned to her as she marched over to him, turning to the boys next to him and starting to snicker. "Well if it isn't the little dragon," he sneered. "Come to burn me to the ground? You haven't any wildfire that I can see."

His friends laughed, and she felt her anger rise. She stomped her foot in frustration, her face hot and her words escaping her.

Instead she surged forward, catching Theon by surprise and pushing him to the ground. She sped off in the same direction Jon had, not wanting to be around when Theon regained his footing. She found Jon by the heart tree, on the side opposite the face that so used to scare Alysanne. She approached quietly and stood in front of him.

"Are you okay?"

He started and looked up at her, furiously wiping at his eyes. "Why do you care?" He spat out.

Alysanne kicked her feet and looked down, feeling more shy now. "Well it's just, Theon was being awful… and I don't have a mother either," she trailed off and paused, thinking about how she had yet to receive any letters from father since she had arrived in Winterfell. He hadn't even visited her like he had promised he would. "And if it makes you feel any better, I don't think my father cares much for me."

Jon looked up at her with a bemused look. "You think your father not caring for you will make me feel better?" She thought about it for a second before giggling. "Well I suppose that is a bit silly."

Jon smiled back, and Alysanne offered him a hand up. He looked at her sheepishly. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Alysanne."

She smiled at him reassuringly. "It's already forgotten," she stopped for a moment, considering her next words. "And, if you'd like, you can call me Alys. Sansa and Arya call me Alys." Jon's face lit up and he beamed at her. He's always so sullen, I don't think I've ever seen him smile so.

"I was going to go to the training yard. Do you want to come with me?" He asked her.

She nodded enthusiastically. He offered her his arm with a dramatic flair. "My Lady, allow me to escort you." She giggled and took his arm, laughing with him about Theon and his stupid squid face. It's when they reach the gate of the godswood that she remembered Theon is probably on a warpath. "We should take the long way, I pushed Theon over and he didn't seem too pleased."

Jon looked at her incredulously. "You did what?"

A sly smirk crept across her face as she remembered the look on Theon's face. "After he insulted you. I pushed him over." Jon laughed abruptly, and they quietly made their way to the training yard, avoiding Theon as best as possible.

Alysanne isn't dressed to spar, so instead she sat on the small stone wall and watched as he went up against some of the older boys. She cheered for him and offered encouragement when he fell and suggestions that she learned from Ser Addam. Sansa and Jeyne joined her after some time, and they made a game of pretending they're at a tourney watching the melee, offering their favors to the boys sparring. Jon wore her red hair ribbon proudly around his wrist, and when Jory came to spar he wore Sansa's blue one. It's the most fun she'd had in ages, the incident with Theon all but forgotten.

It was later that day, before dinner, that Lord Stark summoned her to his solar. Lady Stark was there as well, standing by his shoulder. Alys gave a curtsy upon entering. "Lord Stark, Lady Stark."

Lord Stark frowned at her. "We've talked about this, Alysanne. You needn't greet us so formally when in private."

She gave a shy smile. "Sorry, my Lord."

"It's alright," he said back, before his face became serious again. "But that isn't why I called you here. What is this I hear about you pushing Theon down in the yard today?"

Alysanne looked down, her face growing hot and tears began to sting at her eyes as she recalled what happened earlier. I shouldn't have pushed Theon, it wasn't very ladylike. Grandfather always tells me that Lannisters don't act like fools, and now they're going to send me back to Casterly Rock because I acted a fool and embarrassed my whole family.

Lady Catelyn came around from behind the big desk and knelt in front of her, tucking a stray piece of hair back behind her ear and placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, dear, we just want to know what happened."

Alysanne was quite fond of Lady Catelyn. She was kind and warm and always helped her with her needlework. She helped her and Sansa with their hair, and had even begun to teach them small things about the household. I wonder if this is what it's like to have a mother, if my mother would have been like her. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes and nose with the back of her hand. "It's just, he was being so mean to Jon," Lady Catelyn pursed her lips at the mention of Jon. "And he called him a motherless bastard and when I told him to stop he said I had come to burn him with wildfire and, oh, pleasedontsendmeback please, I promise I'll be good-" Lady Catelyn interrupted her with a soft hand to the cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had continued to fall. And now I'm crying like a babe. Thank the gods Robb isn't here to see this.

Lady Catelyn turned to look back at Lord Stark before turning back to her again. "Hush child, we're not sending you back. It's okay." Alysanne nodded and rubbed her nose again, Lord Stark coming to kneel beside Lady Catelyn.

"Theon shouldn't have said what he did to Jon, I'll talk to him and have him apologize. But you'll have to apologize as well, you should not have pushed him. Next time, come to me," Lord Stark said, voice gentle.

Alysanne nodded. "Yes Lord Stark, I'm sorry for causing trouble."

Lord Stark gave her a small smile, the first smile she's ever seen from him directed at her. "It's quite alright. Run along now."

She gave a small curtsy before leaving the solar, and started towards her room to freshen up for dinner that evening. She almost passed by Robb without noticing, and would have had he not called out her name. She whipped around and gave him her best smile, hoping her eyes weren't still red. "Hello, Robb!"

He didn't smile back, and her smile dropped. "I saw you with Jon today, out on the training yard."

"Yes, I was there. And so was Sansa and Jeyne and Jory."

His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his feet. "You gave him your favor."

A frown formed on her face. "And Sansa gave Jory hers." She replied, growing confused.

He looked up at her. "You shouldn't have given Jon your favor, I'm your betrothed, not him." He said, voice biting.

Her frown deepened, annoyance bubbling in her chest. "I would have given you mine, had you been there."

"You made me look stupid. Don't do it again." Robb said before storming away, Theon looking on in the background with a smug look on his face.

New tears stung at her eyes, and Alysanne decided that both Theon and Robb were a right pair of arses.

294 AC - Robb

It had been two moons since he had argued with Alysanne, and he'd yet to talk to her. This time it had been about how he had accidentally spilled his honeyed milk all over her at the last feast. It had been an accident, truly, but no matter what he said Alysanne didn't seem to believe him.

I suppose it does look a bit suspicious. They had only just started talking again after their last row. What they had argued over last, Robb couldn't quite remember. Probably something stupid, she's always getting mad over stupid things.

Once, she had been mad because he hadn't asked her to dance at the harvest feast. As if it mattered, she always ended up sitting with Sansa and Jeyne or dancing with Ser Addam anyway.

For what it was worth, Alysanne hadn't apologized either. The day after he apparently ruined her dress, she had tripped him into the mud on the training yard. "Oh I'm so very sorry," she had said, "it was an accident, I swear," Robb didn't believe her, just as she didn't believe him. The fact that Sansa and Jeyne had been giggling from the side didn't give him much faith in her, either.

I don't know why I care so much, I hardly know her. It's not that he didn't want to know her, it's just that she was so difficult. She's too similar to Sansa, he thought. All of Sansa's games are boring, I know nothing of needlework or the stories they like, and all they care about is the princes and knights of legend who save the fair princess. He had seen her on the training yard, though, and he did know something of swords and sparring. However, Ser Marbrand was always there with her, and every time he went to approach Ser Marbrand gave him a look.

It doesn't matter what she thinks. She seems perfectly happy with Sansa and Jeyne, and I don't even want to be married. He could remember well the day his mother and father had sat him down and explained that he was betrothed, that one day, in the future, he would be married. He had asked why, and his mother had explained that the north needed money to rebuild old keeps like Moat Cailin, and that this betrothal would give them that. His father had said there was more to it than just building Moat Cailin, and that he would understand better someday.

Robb doubted it.

He was the only one of his brothers and sisters who were betrothed, and it didn't seem fair. Theon was older than him and even he didn't have some girl he was promised to. Theon had teased him relentlessly leading up to Alysanne's arrival, telling him over the morning meal once that "southron girls like perfumed lords with sticks up their arses. Careful not to scare her away, little wolf, else I may come and snatch her up," before shoving a handful of bacon into his mouth and laughing to himself. Theon had only laughed harder when Robb lamented that he didn't even want to be married in the first place.

Robb did his best to avoid her, to stay out of her way. Perhaps if she never saw him or got to know him she would just go home, and he wouldn't have to be stuck with her the rest of his life. I don't want a wife. I want to go on grand adventures, like Ser Duncan the Tall.

But still, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt when she preferred to hang out with Sansa, or even Jon, over him.

He was sat at his desk in his room, practicing his sums, when he heard a knock at his door. He got up and answered, only to find Alysanne of all people standing there. "What do you want?" he said.

She held her chin high. "I wanted to apologize. For pushing you in the mud the other day."

He paused, before grinning triumphantly. "So you admit it then! You did it on purpose!"

She scowled. "No, I didn't! It was an accident!" He rolled his eyes, and that only seemed to make her angrier. "I'm trying to apologize!"

"Well it's not a very good one, is it?" He answered.

"You are insufferable! I wouldn't have pushed you if you hadn't spilt your milk all over my dress!" She said, stomping her foot.

He sighed. "I already told you, that was an accident!" He hadn't realized how loud their voices had become until his mother was standing in front of them, her hands on her hips, looking quite cross.

"Would either of you like to tell me why the two of you are screaming down the keep?" Alysanne looked ashamed and his face reddened, embarrassed that the entire keep must have heard their argument.

"It's nothing, mother. It was just a disagreement."

She looked at the both of them, eyebrow raised. "Well whatever it is, you'd best sort it out. Quietly, this time," she walked away, looking back at them before turning the corner.

Robb turned to Alysanne and cleared his throat, his temper lowering and embarrassment over his behavior taking its place. "I am sorry, and it was an accident. I didn't mean to ruin your dress. Truly," he said.

Her shoulders slumped. "And I'm sorry. For pushing you into the dirt. It wasn't an accident, but I'm still sorry," she replied. They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say next, before she walked off towards her room. Perhaps, for now at least, Alysanne isn't all that bad.

He changed his mind when she, supposedly by accident, broke his favorite wooden practice sword.

296 AC - Alysanne

Alysanne stood on the top of the battlements facing the Kingsroad, trying to spot Lannister banners on the horizon. Two moons ago, her grandfather had sent a raven saying that he was coming to visit for her tenth nameday, and that perhaps her father would be joining him. She'd been counting down the days until they were due to arrive, and had grown nervous as the number dwindled.

Last year, her father had sent some fine Qartheen silk for her nameday, Lannister crimson, alongside some golden thread. She had enlisted Sansa and Lady Catelyn's help in making a dress, hoping that her father would be pleased she put his gift to use and made something to represent him and their family. The dress reminded her of some she had seen her Aunt Cersei wear, with its long sleeves and delicate embroidery. Lady Catelyn had helped her embroider lions along the hems with the golden thread, and had even found some gold beads to sew along the neckline. It was one of the finest dresses she owned, and her favorite by far. She had refused to wear it anywhere for fear of ruining it before she could show her father.

Sansa had been jealous, and had begged her to let her borrow it sometime. Lord Stark told her that she looked very pretty, and even Robb had agreed. Her favorite compliment, however, came from Ser Addam, who had told her she looked like her mother when she wore it. The dress was entirely impractical for the northern climate and she had to wear furs over her shoulders as she waited outside, but Alysanne thought it still looked beautiful.

She spotted Lannister banners on the horizon and she ran down to tell Lord Stark. Ser Addam was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs and hurried after her, pleading for her to slow down. She told Lord Stark, who told Ser Rodrick, and the two of them rode out to meet them as she lined up with the rest of the Stark family, all of them there except baby Rickon, who was still too young to be outside in the cold.

The Stark banners streamed through the gates, the Lannister ones following close behind. She saw the Lannister guards, her grandfather, and, where is father? She tried not to let her disappointment show, as she didn't want her grandfather to think that she wasn't happy to see him. She was happy to see anyone from her family, really. It'd been so long, and her father was dreadful at sending letters, her grandfather only marginally better.

Lord Stark made the proper introductions, and when her grandfather came to stand in front of her she dipped into a curtsy. When she rose, she gave him her best, most convincing smile and greeted him. "Lord Grandfather, it's wonderful to see you," she said.

"Alysanne. You look well. Your father sends his regards, he had duties to attend to which kept him in the capitol." He replied.

She forced her smile to stay on her face. "I understand." Grandfather merely nodded at her before going to speak with Lord and Lady Stark in their solar, and Alysanne was left standing there.

Her smile slipped off her face and her shoulders slumped. I had so hoped to see father, I've missed him terribly. Perhaps next year. He'll at least come to see me married in a few years, to walk me to the heart tree. Robb came to stand in front of her, and she looked at him suspiciously. They didn't fight as much anymore, and he was much nicer to her than he used to be, but she was still unsure of him. He hung around Theon far too much for her tastes.

Robb spoke before she could. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" She replied, furrowing her brows as she tried to remember if he had done anything recently to upset her.

"That your father couldn't come. Sansa told me how you made the dress for him." She silently cursed Sansa. Now he'll think me more a foolish southroner than he already does.

"You probably think me foolish, to go through such trouble," she said, her face reddening.

He shook his head. "I don't. Think you're foolish, that is," he said, and seemed to jumble over his words, "I would miss my father too, if I was gone for so long." He stopped, and they stared at each other awkwardly, neither one of them knowing how to continue the conversation.

She heard Theon and Jon call Robb over, and he gave her a small bow and nod of his head before he left. Is he so terribly awkward with everyone? she wondered. He was never like that with me before.

Her grandfather didn't come to find her until well after the midday meal. She had sat at her desk and to begin a letter to her father when he knocked. He didn't wait for her to answer, entering on his own. She stood as he walked in and he bid her to stay seated, looking around her rooms with an appraising eye before turning to her. "Alysanne, I was hoping you'd accompany me on a walk through the godswood."

She smiled, and leapt up and grabbed her cloak. "I would love to, grandfather," she said, eager to spend time with him finally. He gave her a tight smile and offered his arm. She took it, and they headed off towards the godswood.

They walked in silence until they reached the heart tree, her grandfather stopping in front of it. "In a few years time, once you've grown, you'll marry Robb Stark in front of this tree. Do you know what that means?"

Alysanne nodded, remembering the conversation she'd had with Ser Addam before they arrived in Winterfell. "Yes, it means that I'll become Lady Stark," She replied.

He nodded. "Very good. And why is that important?"

She tried to think, and gave the best answer she could come up with. "Because it's my duty?"

He looked down at her. "Yes, but it's also important to the family legacy. You'll be the first daughter of House Lannister to become Lady Stark," he replied.

She felt pride swell in her chest. "Really? The first?"

"Yes," he nodded, "which means that not only will our family have power in the south, but we'll have a foothold in the north," He turned back to the great Weirwood, it's face staring them down.

She wondered if her grandfather felt the way she had when she first arrived, like the heart tree was seeing into her very soul and finding her lacking. She used to hate coming here, feeling unwelcome and as if the tree itself wanted her to leave, get out. Sansa had told her that she had just as much a right to be here as she did, though, as someday she would be a Stark too.

He turned back to her. "That's why it's important that you get along with Robb Stark. He needs to respect you if you're to represent our family at all," he told her, raising a brow. She looked down in shame. He's disappointed in me, I've already failed.

"I'm sorry, grandfather. I have tried, I promise! And we've been getting along better," she looked back up at him, worried that he'd be cross with her.

"That's what Lady Stark said. She also said that you've been doing well in your studies, and that you've a fondness for stories." She beamed up at him, proud that Lady Stark thought she was doing well.

"You're getting older now, it's time you knew the truth of things. Time you began learning politics and the ways of the world. I've talked to Lady Stark, and she agrees," he said. That sounds dreadfully boring, I'd rather keep with the histories and stories Septas Elswyth and Mordane tell us. Her grandfather kept talking. "I've left a set of books here. You're to read them, and write to me what you learned."

Alysanne was still confused, but knew better than to question her grandfather. "Yes, Lord Grandfather."

"Come now," he said, offering his arm again, "I believe we've a feast to prepare ourselves for."

298 AC - Alysanne

No one from her family came to visit her again until two years had passed, when her Uncle Tyrion came to visit.

She had always liked Uncle Tyrion, he'd always made time for her when no one else would. They'd played games together at the Rock, and he often read her stories of the Targaryens of days past. Her grandfather always told her she was better off forgetting her dragonsblood, and her father had only grown sad when she mentioned her mother.

Tyrion, however, was always open and free with his stories. He had told her about how her mother had been kind to him when so many weren't, and how she had favored tales of the Good Queen Alysanne. By the time she left, he must have read her all of the stories about Targaryen history in the Rock, and she considered herself well versed in the tales. She knew of Aegon's Conquest and Dance of Dragons and the Blackfyre Rebellions, but one thing she didn't know of, was Robert's Rebellion.

Alysanne wasn't a child, and she wasn't stupid. She knew that something truly awful had happened to the last members of her family, but no one would tell her what exactly had happened. Septa Elswyth had told her that tales such as those were not for the ears of young ladies. Maester Luwin had told her to never to speak of such things, and that she was better off not knowing.

Alysanne knew that Lord Stark had lost family in the rebellion, and thought it best not to ask him. If there was one person who would tell her, it was Tyrion. And she jumped at the opportunity of having him in her presence to ask him.

She wished she hadn't asked.

She locked herself in her rooms for the rest of that day and had refused to come out, the names of her lost family echoing in her mind. She knew enough to know her grandfather was likely at fault for what happened in King's Landing. The whole realm knew the Mountain, and who controlled him. Aunt Elia and Rhaenys and Aegon, dead by one grandfather's hand. Uncle Rhaegar, dead by Uncle Robert's hand. Lord Stark's father and brother, dead by the other grandfather's command, and yet here I am in his home. That same grandfather killed by my own father. My whole family is full of blood. Blood, blood, and more blood. Is this what it means to be a Targaryen? To be a Lannister? I don't want to be either. She couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes. She should have listened to Septa Elswyth and Maester Luwin. No wonder the King wanted her gone, no wonder her father sent her far away to the north.

Alys heard a knock on the door, and reluctantly got up to answer it, wiping the tears from her eyes as best she could. She opened the door and was surprised to find Lord Stark standing there, his hands clasped politely behind his back. "Lady Alysanne, do you mind if I come in?" He asked. She opened the door wider for him, not quite sure what to say. "Lord Tyrion told me what happened."

She felt shame roll through her. "I'm sorry, Lord Stark. I shouldn't have asked."

She sat on her bed, and he knelt in front of her. "Why ever not? You deserve to know your family's history, however dark it is," he replied to her.

Her lip trembled, and she fought to keep her tears in her eyes. "What my family did to yours, why do you let me stay here?" she asked.

Lord Stark frowned at her. "You are not at fault, you hadn't even been born. The faults of your grandfather are not your own."

She sat in silence for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "Lord Stark," she said tentatively, wiping at her eyes once more, "do you think that perhaps I could take a day of mourning tomorrow? For both our families." She looked up at him and was surprised to find a sad smile on his face.

"Aye, little Alys," she couldn't help but smile slightly at his name for her, "I think that would be quite alright."

She spent the rest of that day in her chambers, and when she came down the next day to break her fast, she was quite surprised to find that Robb had also dressed in black.

The next few days she spends with her Aunt Elia on her mind. How could the kingsguard let that happen to her? How could anyone? She found Ser Addam, and cornered him in the hallway. "I want to be better with my sword. I want to be able to defend myself, I don't want to end up like Aunt Elia, and you won't always be there," she stated, chin held high.. She was under no illusions that she would ever be able to stop someone like the Mountain, but she hated the idea of being helpless.

Ser Addam's face paled at the mention of her Aunt Elia. "Aye, little lion, that would be a tragedy indeed." He worked her hard in the training yard, harder than he ever had before, harder than some of the squires her own age. When she complained, he only reminded her of what she said, that he wouldn't always be there to protect her.

She often left the yard with cuts and bruises that caused Lady Catelyn's lips to purse in disapproval, but she didn't say anything. Whether she knew how much this meant to her or if Ser Addam had talked to her, Alysanne didn't know. She was grateful all the same.

A few moons had passed when Arya came to the Lord and Lady Stark begging to be allowed to learn like Alysanne did. Lord Stark caved, and gave his permission for her to learn the basics. Very little in truth, but it was enough to satisfy little Arya for a time.

Sansa, her dearest friend, was another story altogether.

They were sitting in an alcove one afternoon, working on their needlework. Alysanne had a fresh bruise blooming on her wrist where Ser Addam whacked her with the flat of his sword. She hadn't been holding it right, and Ser Addam said that could be the difference between her life and death.

Sansa pursed her lips when she saw it, in a manner almost identical to her mothers. "I don't know why you insist on such activities. It's not becoming of a lady," she said, her nose in the air.

Alysanne bristled, and for the first time that she can remember, she began to feel angry at her friend. "I want to be able to protect myself," Alysanne curtly replied.

"That's what Ser Addam is for, and soon, Robb," Sansa retorted.

Alysanne clenched her teeth. "They won't always be there."

"Someone else will, then. No true knight would leave you in harm's way," Sansa said, as if it was obvious and there was no other answer.

Alysanne threw down her needlework into her lap. "No one was there to protect Elia Martell!" She yelled, rising to her feet, her needlework clattering to the floor all but forgotten. "Or Aegon, or Rhaenys. No one was there! The Mountain and Armory Lorch are knights, and they- and they-" her sobs choke her and prevented her words from escaping.

Sansa looked on, quite shocked by Alysanne's outburst, before carefully setting down her needlework and coming to sit by her. "What did they do?" she whispered, taking Alysanne's hand.

Alysanne told her. Not in as much detail as Tyrion had, but enough so she understood.

The next day Sansa asked her father if she could take up archery. More ladylike than swordplay, more acceptable in Lady Catelyn's eyes, but at least it was something.

300 AC - Robb

Alysanne had left four moons ago to visit her family in King's Landing, and Robb found that he missed her. A surprising development, he thought. He had grown used to seeing her around Winterfell, helping his mother with her duties, entertaining Bran and keeping Rickon out of his mother's way when she was especially busy. She was a frequent presence on the training yard as well, sparring against him and Jon or showing little Arya some new techniques.

She's become a part of Winterfell, it's not the same without her. His face warmed at the realization. Embarrassing. It's just Alysanne, nothing has changed. Perhaps it was the conversation he'd had with his mother that made him view her differently, that reminded him exactly why Alysanne came to Winterfell in the first place, what she was here for. "I didn't know your father before we were married," his mother had said, "we were strangers. You don't realize how lucky you are to have the opportunity to know and build a relationship with your betrothed. Not many get that chance. Don't continue to squander it as you have."

He felt his heart begin to race as Lannister banners streamed through the gates. They were all lined up, as they had been eight years ago when Alysanne had first come to Winterfell. How foolish I was, to treat her as I have. Alysanne rode into the yard, and he felt his heart stop. Has she always been so beautiful?

Her hair was a golden banner against the dark grey of her furs and deep blue of her dress. She dresses like a northron woman now, he noted. Her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold, her eyes alight and a bright smile on her face. She's happy to be back here, in Winterfell! Robb smiled.

Ser Addam helped her off her horse, Moondancer, I think she calls her, and she walked towards them. She greeted his parents first, as propriety dictated, and then came to stop in front of him. He took her hand and bent over to kiss it, "My lady," he said.

She looked at him, a befuddled look in her eyes and he heard Theon and Jon snickering behind him. Even Sansa, ever proper Sansa, was struggling to contain her mirth. What was I thinking? When have I ever been so formal with her? She must think me a fool, a great, northron fool.

His face reddened, and he looked down at his feet as she went on to greet Sansa with a warm hug, both her and Arya chattering excitedly about a ride in the Wolfswood they have planned for later. A miracle that Arya and Sansa get along so well now. Another way that Alysanne has made Winterfell better, he thought. Alysanne often acted as the buffer between Arya and Sansa, allowing them to see eye to eye when they perhaps would not have before. His father dismissed everyone, and he hurried off to hide in his rooms or the library before Theon could tease him.

Robb was headed out towards the training yard the next day when he saw Alysanne heading towards the godswood. He jogged to catch up to her and she turned as she heard his approach. "Alysanne! Might I accompany you?" He asked.

She pauses before she answers. "Alright," she replied, and took his proffered arm.

They walked in silence for a bit, Robb at a loss for what to say. You fool, ask her something. Ask her about anything, about her trip perhaps. "How were your travels?"

"They were fine, I suppose. A bit boring," she answered.

"And how was King's Landing? Your family?" He asked. He didn't miss the way she tensed up, and he grew concerned.

"They were fine."

Robb stopped and she stopped with him. "What is it? What happened?"

She looked up at him and then kept walking, Robb falling into step beside her. She didn't answer for a long time, and he began to think she never would until they reached the heart tree. She turned to him, her brow creased. "The King. He's not… fond of me. Neither is Cousin Joffrey it would seem," she finally said.

Robb frowned. "And your father? Does he not do anything?"

Alysanne scoffed. "He hardly made time for me. I'm just glad to be home," she stopped and took a breath, and Robb didn't miss the way she called Winterfell home, "Please, tell me of Winterfell, what did I miss?"

Robb told her of Sansa and Arya and their rides in the Wolfswood, the trouble Arya had caused when she and Bran snuck out of the keep one night. How Bran, who had been squiring under Ser Addam and hadn't been permitted to go to King's Landing, had caused extra trouble with his free time, and how Rickon had become the terror of the keep.

Their walks in the godswood became a daily tradition, and it's after a moons turn of them that he finally kissed her.

302 AC - Alysanne

She had waited on the battlements once again that morning. Perhaps she was a fool for continuing to do so, but a part of her hoped that her father would at least show this time. She was turning sixteen afterall, the age of majority. She was considered a woman grown now, and the Starks were throwing her a feast to celebrate.

He didn't show, however, and she forewent greeting her grandfather in the yard to sit in the godswood until things died down, not wanting to see the pity in the faces of those around her.

Alysanne emerged later in the day, as she had decided that the training yard was the least likely place her grandfather would be. Sansa was practicing her archery with Theon, and she was glad to see it. Theon, who had become much kinder in the years since she met him, had offered to teach Sansa when she first expressed interest. Perhaps it was Sansa who had sanded down his rough edges, or perhaps it had come with age.

"Stark!" She called out to Robb, who was sparring with Jon. He spun around upon hearing her and waved, and soon found himself knocked into the dirt by Jon because of it. Alyanne only laughed.

"Jon! That was hardly fair," Robb cried.

Jon helped him up. "Well perhaps if you weren't such a besotted fool you would pay better attention," Jon said with a laugh.

Robb blushed and he dusted off his breeches as Alysanne approached. "Fancy a go, Stark?" Alysanne said, gesturing to her training sword.

Robb smiled. "Always, Lannister," he replied.

Jon cleared the way, and Alyanne danced around Robb. It was a dance unique to them, and it was her favorite one by far. Lunging and parrying, back and forth they went until Alysanne found herself distracted by Robb. His broad shoulders and the way the sunlight caught his hair. Before she knew it she was on the ground, Robb standing over her. "A bit distracted?" He grinned down at her.

He offered a hand to help her up, and he pulled a bit too hard. She found herself stumbling into his chest and she backed up, but perhaps not as far as she should have. A blush crept across her face and her hand was still in his when she heard a throat clear behind her. She turned to find her grandfather. So much for that plan.

"Alysanne. I would like a word," he said, voice disproving.

She felt annoyance crawl up in her chest. He'd made a point to visit several times over the years, lest she forget that she's a Lannister. Would that I could. I would forget everything about this family.

Robb released her hand and nodded to her. "I'll see you tonight at the feast, Alys. She gave him a wan smile and handed him the blunted sword before heading towards her grandfather.

He led her up to the chambers he'd been placed in, gesturing for her to take a seat by the fire. "I wish you would give up playing at swords. It's not becoming of the future Lady of Winterfell," he started out.

"Perhaps. But I would hate to end up as so many of my family have before me," she replied.

His eyes flashed, but he let the comment slide. "I asked you here to discuss your wedding. More specifically, when it shall take place."That caught her attention. She knew this was coming, she was turning sixteen tomorrow, and now that she had reached the age of majority she assumed it would be soon.

"And?" She prompted.

"Two years from now. After your eighteenth birthday."

Alysanne frowned. "Why so long from now?"

"A concession to your father," Tywin took a seat beside her before continuing, "he has fears of you meeting the same fate as your mother if you get with child too young."

Alysanne scoffed. "A concession to my father," she sneered, "as if he's ever worried for me before."

"Careful now," he warned.

"Or what? You'll send me back to the Rock? And break an alliance you worked so hard to make, that you've worked so hard to shape me for?" she met his eyes.

Her grandfather clenched his jaw. "You're tired. Perhaps you should rest before the feast."

She gave him a mocking smile. "Yes, perhaps I will."

The Feast - Robb

She's beautiful, he thought, as he watched Alys spin around the floor with Ser Addam. Her hair caught the light, braided back in a northron fashion, and she wore a dress of crimson and grey in a style common among northron ladies. The colors are a combination of our houses, he noticed, a fond smile creeping across his face.

"You're grinning like a fool again," Theon said as he threw himself into the chair next to him, the ale splashing from his cup. Theon didn't let him respond. "You used to hate each other, and now you can hardly stand to be apart. A fool in love," Theon mocked.

Robb scowled at him. "Why don't you go ask Sansa to dance? You moon after her often enough," he teased back.

Theon's face flushed and he scowled at him, draining the rest of his ale in one go and stalking off. Robb looked back towards Alys only to find her walking towards him.

He stood to meet her and she reached to grab his hands. "Won't you come dance with me, Robb?"

He obliged, though he doubted he had the will to refuse. He spun her around the floor, entranced by the way her hair glittered and the mirth that danced in her eyes.

Perhaps he was a fool in love.