Sisters | Kingsroad

Alyse found her later laying on her bed and trying to stop the whirring of her mind. She didn't really feel the lingering effects of the wine anymore thankfully, and instead she felt only confusion and worry, her mind trying and failing to process what had happened with the Queen.

"M'lady!" Sybel heard Alyse call through the walls of the inn before she was suddenly in the small shared room, running over to her. The apprehension in her voice made Sybel sit up. "I've been looking for you!"

She was quickly told that the commotion she'd escaped in earlier was actually the prince being returned after Nymeria attacked him. Alyse explained that she'd heard that Sansa and the prince had been out walking when Arya and Nymeria attacked him, for reasons unknown. Sybel got up quickly to go in search of her sisters because it couldn't mean anything good for Arya. It couldn't mean anything good for their house either for that matter, or even for Sansa's betrothal, if the youngest Stark attacked the prince. It didn't even look good for Nymeria.

They hurried down the stairs as Alyse explained that there was a council downstairs now with Lannister's calling for this to not go unanswered—the Prince had been attacked and it surely wouldn't be just accepted without consequence.

It wasn't hard to find them all—at the bottom of the stairs, Sybel was met by loud voices and a gathering of people at the main entrance into the Inn's hall. Sybel pushed her way through and they shifted to let her through when they recognized her, Alyse close behind her. When she was far enough into the room filled with men, she saw that all the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room except for two at the front where the Queen and King sat.

Lannister knights and the Kingsguard stood around the room, along with a few Stark men. Her father was there too by the King, seeming to be in deep serious conversation, barely noticing how around them were louder voices, overlapping and trying to be heard. If she concentrated, she could hear it was mostly Lannister men and Stark men insulting each other, voices bubbling together in a cacophony of noise. Angry noise. Accusing noise. There was a tension in the air that Sybel could practically feel on her skin, all animosity and hostility, that made her want to leave immediately. The men seemed to almost vibrate in readiness, in the same way lions stalked and wolves circled.

Then she saw her sister weeping at the side of the room, not far from the King and Queen, and Sybel's heart clenched as she pushed her way forward with far more determination than before.

She looked far too alone and small, standing prettily and anguished in a room full of what felt like teasing violence. Sybel was halted though, an arm held out to stop her running forward. She looked up to find Jory shaking his head at her. "No, my lady."

"But Sansa—"

"You shouldn't get involved in this, my lady." His discerning eyes were watching the brewing rage in the Queen. Sybel didn't need to put herself in front of that as a target; not when the Queen seemed to be just waiting for a Stark to present themselves.

But Sybel couldn't stop looking at her younger sister, alone and crying. Her voice was firm. "Let me through Jory."

He hesitated. "My lady…"

"Follow if you must. But I won't be stopped in going to my sister."

He saw more fierceness in her gaze than she was aware of. He nodded and let his arm drop, following close behind as she pushed her way through the Lannister men standing around Sansa. They were hard to move past, not shifting to make room, and she saw why Jory hadn't already gotten through.

She wrapped her arms around her sister's tall, slim and shaking frame, pulling her in close. It was possibly the first comforting touch she'd been given in this room, because she collapsed forward onto Sybel and let wracking sobs dampen her dress. Sybel whispered reassurances into Sansa's hair, combing it back and down and pressing kisses to her head. "It will be alright, my sweet. I've got you."

She gestured to Jory for them to leave but where she'd been able to push her way through the Lannister men before, she quickly found she couldn't pull them out. Obviously they'd been given orders and it bothered Sybel that they involved holding her sister here. She could see the tension all up Jory's back as he weighed up his options. Without really thinking it through, Sybel spoke up and anger flashed in her eyes. She wasn't going to let Sansa be kept here while she sobbed. By the Gods, she was a child.

"Your graces." Her voice wasn't a shout but it didn't take long for there to be a hush over the room, the king and queen turning to look at her. Sansa glanced up at her with watery blue eyes. "With your permission, your graces, I'd like to return my sister to our rooms."

Outrage flashed in the Queens eyes and Sybel readied herself for it to spill out at her. It was different to before in the Wheelhouse where she'd worked very hard to not anger the Queen. Now, she felt herself preparing to take it, if it meant looking after her sister. She felt her own responding anger flush down her neck. "How dare you interrupt!"

"I'm sorry your grace," Sybel said gently, but with a firm determination stoked by the anger pumping through her body. She was hyper aware of all the eyes on her but she tried to ignore it all, her face imploring, "She's the only child in a room full of yelling, armed men. Surely, there is no need for her to be here."

The Queen was furious, her voice harsh. "I will decide what there is a need for."

Sybel didn't like the Queen's temper focused so solely on her and she wondered if this was what the Queen was feeling today in the Wheelhouse but was able to hide. The thought terrified her.

She mustered what little courage she thought she had because someone needed to point out the bubbling pot about to spill over. Insulting could turn to shoves and turn to duels too quickly for her liking and the room was hot and loud, like it was close to spattering over. This wasn't an argument between her sister's she could settle, so the next best thing was to just remove herself—and those she loved—from it. Just in case.

The King burst into laughter. Loud, full-bellied guffaws. There were a couple half-hearted, confused chuckles around the room, trying to join in but being unsure what they were joining. The King wiped at tears in his eyes, and Sybel wondered if they were only tears of mirth because there was a sadness there too, unmistakable in the way his eyes didn't join his upturned mouth. It felt to Sybel like a deep sadness she could sense thumping in her chest where her heart was; painful. "Ned, isn't Lyanna there in her fierceness?"

If the Queen could spit fire, Sybel was sure she would've right then.

Her father moved over, shoving his way around the Lannister men, and placed his hands on Sybel's shoulders proudly. "She is right, your grace. She should take Sansa back to their rooms."

The king only waved them away in agreement, the Queen glaring at him. Sybel curtsied. "Thank you, your graces."

Their father instructed Jory to go with them, and Sybel pulled Sansa along behind her, angling her body to shield her weeping sister. She passed by Jaime Lannister where he stood close to the back of the Kingsguard at the front of the room, watching it all unfold before him like he was a spectator at a show.

She'd missed him when she entered but she saw him watching her now as their eyes connected. She wondered if he could feel the sharp anger and disappointment in her gaze, aimed at him. His jaw ticked in responding irritation that made her think he must've—and she thought she could see his eyes spelling out how he didn't care about her anger and how he didn't owe her anything. But it might've been completely in her head, too—their wordless conversation and meaningful glares. She kept her eyes hard like glinting steel—like she wasn't shaking with panic and anger and more than a tiny bit of fear on the inside—stinging in a way that made him want to look away. His teeth clenched.

Sybel liked to think she was understanding and accepting; playful, gentle and slow to anger. Never had she felt herself vibrate with anger before, coiled like a defending snake preparing to strike. But when it came to her siblings, her family or those she loved, it was different. She felt that responding urge thrum through her body telling her she needed to be different; that it wasn't the time to be gentle or accepting.

Her thumb rubbed soothing circles on Sansa's hand that she knew was mostly for herself. Later, when the wave of energy inside her settled down, she thought she might regret her behaviour, her words, her provoking eyes. She might regret the way she almost invited the Queen's own rage towards her, the way she scolded the golden kingsguard with her eyes.

Right now though, she felt justified and protective, so she let her gaze move past Jaime dismissively, focusing on getting them through the crowd and when the four of them made it to the stairs, Jory led them back to their rooms, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. She kept her arm wrapped around Sansa and leant down to ask her, "Sansa, where is Arya?"

In all of that, she hadn't seen her youngest sister. Sansa's crying increased, not able to get any words out. Sybel looked up at Jory and a line of worry creased his forehead. "She is missing, my lady. After the attack on the Prince, your lady sister ran away with her direwolf. Half of your father's men are out searching for her, as are Lannister men."

The bottom of her stomach seemed to disappear. "We need to find her."

What she didn't say out loud was that they needed to find Arya first, before the Lannister's, before the Queen. She really didn't have to though—Jory knew.

"We will," Jory reassured, pushing open the door to their rooms and standing back to let them through. "As soon as your father has finished smoothing things over with the King, he will join the search himself."

Sansa went straight in to her bed, collapsing down. Alyse went after her, pausing only to boil water for tea. Sybel turned to look back at Jory and he saw the conflicting wants on her face.

"You can't do anything for Arya right now but you have a sister here already who needs you," he said calmly and softly. Sansa's tears seemed to be decreasing in volume now but she knew Jory was right. She gave him a look saying as much and turned to try consoling her sister, hoping they would find Arya soon.

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Arya was missing for four days.

Every day when she woke, she would try joining the search. Her father wouldn't let her of course, and she had to spend her days practicing her needlepoint in silence, feeling useless and worrying about how Arya could possibly have survived by herself in the forest for days without food, protection or shelter. The only comfort she had was that Nymeria would be with her.

Finally on the third day of Arya being missing, Sybel had the thought to argue that she should join the search because Arya might at least listen to her; a safe voice among the men looking for her. She could see him faltering in his decision and he finally acquiesced, on the condition that Jory agreed to accompany her. Sansa stubbornly ignored Sybel's question of whether she wanted to join them too because despite her worry for Arya, she also blamed her for ruining things with the Queen and Prince, sure her own invitation to join them in the Wheelhouse had been rescinded.

She spent her whole day with Jory, mostly in silence, searching along the riverbed and in the outskirts of the forest, refusing to take time for a midday meal even when Jory insisted she eat. They walked the line of trees but Jory never let them go in too far, instead only allowing her to stand and call out for as long as she felt she needed. By the afternoon, when they had searched all the hiding places in the small town that she thought Arya might think of, she was forced to believe that her younger sister had indeed gone deeper into the forest—deeper than Jory would let them go. And now she was only wasting the time of another Stark man that would be better spent pushing further into the trees than escorting her. She felt purposeless, again; silly for thinking she could be the one to find her sister. Silly for wasting Jory's time. If only he would just take her further into the trees.

Her frustration leaked out and she sighed at Jory as they ate a hasty meal of bread and cheese in the Inn's hall. It was loud and crowded with others. "We need to go further into the forest, Jory."

He nodded, "Rest assured my lady, the men are. We are not, though."

Sybel pursed her lips at him. "You know this whole day has been a waste of your time, don't you? You are escorting me around to look under wagons and in barns while everyone else is out looking where they actually need to be looking."

"It's not been a waste, my lady," he shook his head. "If your sister were to come out for anyone, it would be for you. It is a good idea to have you out there searching too."

"Just not too far out," she bit out, more annoyed at herself and feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. She took a deep breath. "How can I possibly be helpful or of use in any way when she's too far away to even hear me at the tree line?"

"Your Lord father thought it best that you didn't go out too far and stayed close to where it's safest."

She clenched her teeth. She didn't mean to pin him down with the grey swirling strength of her eyes, but he suddenly looked too-still in his seat, like he was unable to move, eyes widening slightly like he knew he'd said the wrong thing right then. "Sometimes I get sick of the men in my life always thinking they know what's best for me; always acting like I need protecting and rescuing, sometimes even from myself. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

It wasn't fair of her, she knew—Jory wasn't the one making the decision, and it was her father's job to protect her. But it made her feel so completely useless and helpless, like she would never get to be the leading force of her own life, instead simply waiting for other's forces to be enacted on her. There were times like these, on occasion, where she understood Arya's determination to be a boy—to be able to make her own decisions and be deemed competent enough to do it too. To be thought of as inherently strong and capable.

"My lady—" Jory shook his head, abruptly cutting himself off.

She sighed and stood up, smiling apologetically at him. "It's OK Jory. I think I should let you join the search again properly now. Thank you for indulging me."

She left before he could say anymore.

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Sybel found it especially hard on the fourth day as she had the whole day to worry about Arya and feel like she wasn't doing anything about it. It was hard to sit and wait when it came to her siblings, but she did it knowing this would be the quickest way to finding Arya as much as she felt the need to be doing something to fix it. Sybel spent her day reading with her sister or listening to her Septa's lessons, and when this wasn't enough, Alyse tried her hardest to distract her by taking her outside to read and talk. That had been helpful because it meant that others stopped to talk to her too, and the conversations were nice while they lasted.

As the sun dropped low they returned to their rooms and ate a quiet dinner together. Their father got up and went back out to keep looking. He had barely taken any breaks and she could see the worry in his eyes grow as each day passed without finding her. And after staying up waiting for a while longer, mostly in silence and worry, Alyse eventually helped them change into their nightdresses for bed.

They laid in their beds and Sybel couldn't help but think about if Arya was scared all by herself in the forest at night. She looked out of the little window and saw part of the silvery moon, pale and small in the night sky, and she imagined the dark of the forest blocking out the weak streaks of light trying to push through. She imagined the shadows creating a sense of danger and unfamiliar noises making it feel like there were eyes on her everywhere. Thankfully Arya had Nymeria, at least, though while the idea terrified Sybel, she could almost see this being a kind of adventure for rough and tough Arya. At least, that was what Sybel hoped. All she could do was hope and pray that her sister was safe and well.

Sybel didn't often pray, but if they were not so far South, she would have sought out a heart tree for quiet contemplation and fervent whispered pleas. She had always felt a bit conflicted in her religious beliefs—the old gods of the North and her father, or the Faith of the Seven and her mother—but as they travelled further South she felt a twinge of loss. Years ago the weirwoods and heart trees were cut down in the South, and so it was said the old gods didn't have power there anymore. Despite her confusion, there had always been something comforting about having countless spirits of nature around her in the trees, the rocks and the streams, even if the godswoods sometimes felt eerie, cold and ancient.

She missed the reminders of the North—missed her family, missed the cold, missed the open hard land and dense forests, missed her direwolf. With Nymeria missing, Lady was left alone in the stables at night where the Inn Keeper had insisted she stay despite her agitating the horses, and despite how well-behaved Sansa promised she would be. Sybel wished she was in the room with them then; her thick fur and alert presence would have been the connection to home that Sybel was seeking.

Sansa shifted in her bed and Sybel knew she wasn't asleep yet either. She started to get up to go and lay with her, as they had taken to the last few nights, when there was loud banging on the door to their rooms. Sybel sat up and Alyse lit another candle in their room, giving enough light with the moonlight filtering through the window for her to see the tentative hope in their eyes. But then, if it was Arya, why would there be knocking?

The banging came again quickly with a loud call of, "Lady Sansa Stark, you are being summoned by the Queen," that quickly squashed the hope and replaced it with trepidation. They scrambled up out of bed, pulling robes around them as they hurried out of the room to the shared space.

"Why would the Queen be summoning me?" Sansa asked, eyes wide and shining blue.

Sybel was quick to reassure despite not having any idea herself. "It will be alright."

Their Septa stood in her own robe, grey hair pulled back in a braid as she pulling the door open with a frown and a harsh, "What is the meaning of this?"

The men on the other side of the door barely spared her a glance as they barged through in their Lannister colours and armour, uncaring as they roughly shoved the Septa out of the way. They quickly found Sansa and walked the few steps over to her to repeat, "Lady Sansa Stark, you have been summoned by the Queen."

Jory was close behind them, frowning as he came to stand between the Stark girls and the Lannister guards. "Has Lord Stark been informed?" he asked at the same time Sybel wondered, holding Sansa's hand firmly, "Why would the Queen need her so late at night?"

One of the men eyed her up and down in her nightclothes, and she pulled her robe tighter around her and felt like she needed to take a step further away from him. "That's not for you to question."

Sybel's eyes flashed. "I think it is for me to question when it involves my sister."

Septa Mordane had pulled herself together enough to come and stand by Sybel and Sansa, pulling herself up to her full height in a decorous fashion that always made Sybel listen. "Lady Sansa respectfully declines the Queen's invitation due to the late hour."

She gestured to the open door like that would be that and they would leave. They didn't move at all.

"It's not an invitation." The man at the front said, staring at Jory meaningfully. "We were told to bring her."

"Then we will all go," Sybel said simply, not wanting anything to escalate further when all their hands hovered near the pommel of their swords. The front man's intention was clear; there was no choice, only a summons to be answered. Their arguing would only make them angry.

"No," Jory said, shaking his head and looking back at Sybel. "Lady Sansa and I will go. You will let your Lord father know what has happened if he returns here first."

"But..." Sybel started.

Jory looked at their Septa and she quickly moved to Sybel, gently detaching her from Sansa. "Sansa will be fine with Jory."

Her voice was reassuring, like she was sure nothing bad would happen, and it helped to settle some of the worry swirling in Sybel. Perhaps her head was full of her own meeting with the Queen that she felt the responding tension in her body at the idea of Sansa being led away to meet with her too.

Sansa lifted her chin and nodded, putting on a brave face though Sybel could see the slight quiver to her lips as she followed the Lannister men out with Jory, the door pulled closed behind them. It was very quiet for a moment as Sybel stared at the closed door, her mind trying to figure out what the Queen could possibly want. What could the Queen need with Sansa right now? Surely it could wait until morning—what sense was there in scaring her and pulling her from her bed dressed only in her nightdress and gown? The more she thought on it though, the more she felt the tension in her body return. She shouldn't let Sansa go by herself—at the very least, Sybel shouldn't leave her child sister to figure it out. It was Sybel's job always to look out for her.

"This is ridiculous," Sybel said quietly, pacing around the room. "I should just go with her. Someone else can give my father the message."

"You don't need to mix into this just yet," Her Septa said firmly. "It's best if we just wait for their return. Besides, you are not dressed."

That seemed an easy fix to Sybel, and therefore a poor excuse. "I would feel better knowing she wasn't by herself."

"She's not by herself." Her Septa gave her a pointed look that told Sybel she was done arguing about it now, and for possibly the first time Sybel felt the urge to disobey her. She had always been one to do what she was told; always been the one to help wrangle her siblings into obedience even. But then, she supposed, she had never really been in a situation where she was quite so worried about so many of her siblings all at once, so far from home and all that was familiar and safe.

She had the Queen's words in her ear—aren't you old enough...

She shook her head. Maybe she was just over-reacting. Nothing terrible would happen to Sansa.

It was just the Queen—she unsettled Sybel in a way that felt not quite safe. So what could possibly have happened for Sansa to have been requested by the Queen? Sybel wondered if it had anything to do with the attack on the prince, but then it made little sense for them to require more information from Sansa now, late at night.

Sybel sighed, stopped her pacing and collapsed down into a chair. Alyse set to make them tea, carefully pouring it out for them all and eventually Sybel sipped at it, the warm liquid soothing. She felt her mind settle somewhat further when her Septa seemed calm enough to doze in her chair while they waited. The worry must have still been on her face, because Alyse came over to pat her hand comfortingly. "I'm sure everything is alright."

"I hope so."

She started combing Sybel's hair back, some of the untamable curls having come free of the original braid. The gentle pulling on her hair was relaxing and reassuring, and Sybel felt her eyes close. They were quiet for a while longer, but then she heard heavy footsteps. Sybel jerked up and hurried to the door, hearing a sobbing as well. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she pulled the door open to find Jory arrived with Sansa and Arya on either side of him, both sisters crying hysterically. Sybel felt a dizzying mix of absolute relief and worry flood her at once. Thank the Gods, Arya was found.

"What—," Sybel started but they both launched forward into her strong enough that Sybel stumbled slightly. Their tears soaked into Sybel's dress and she tried stroking and soothing but she didn't know why she was trying to soothe them. All she could think was that she should've gone with Sansa. She should've listened to the feeling that said that it wasn't alright to let her go alone. "What's going on?"

"Lady," Sansa managed to choke out, not able to say anything else.

The sobbing had startled Septa Mordane enough to wake her and she called out in surprise, hurrying over, "Sansa! Arya! What is going on?"

They sobbed harder but Arya was able to explain, her voice a wail, "They're going to kill Lady."

Sybel's mouth dropped open, mind blank. Septa Mordane and her looked at each other before Sybel looked up at Jory, like she needed him to make sense of this. "Surely not?"

His face was forlorn and serious, and he didn't have to say anything else. Her mouth parted, and as it registered in her mind she felt her eyes sting with tears. Her voice was a whisper, "But why?"

"Ask her," Sansa screamed, pointing at Arya, and the two girls nearly grabbed onto each other enough to hurt each other, Sybel in the middle, but Septa Mordane was quick enough to pull Sansa to her in a comforting embrace, out of reach.

"It wasn't my fault," Arya cried, though she'd never looked like she felt as guilty as she did then, and had never held onto Sybel quite so tightly. "It wasn't my fault! They're all liars!"

"Hush now," Septa Mordane said firmly, smoothing back Sansa's hair. "You both need to calm down. Lets go hop into bed and settle. Come, Arya, you need to wash the filth off you."

The Septa herded them back towards their room and Alyse hurried off with a jug and a cloth for Arya to wash the dirt off her. Sybel watched them, still crying, before looking up at Jory. She blinked a few times, trying not to let her eyes fill up. Why would this be happening? "Tell me what happened, please."

"It was the Queen," Jory said quietly, his face just as sombre as her own. "Arya sent Nymeria off into the woods before she was found but the Queen wasn't satisfied with that. Lady is the stand-in, as revenge for harm inflicted on the prince."

Sybel felt a tear slip down her face. Lady was a part of their pack, she was a creature of the North, and she had never done anything wrong. Lady deserved better than to be killed because the Queen ordered it, and that same uneasy, unsafe feeling about the Queen returned. "Poor Lady. Poor Sansa."

Sybel had watched Sansa train Lady from when they first got their direwolves; watched Lady heed every instruction given, watched Sansa turn a wild animal into a gentle, tamed companion. This would devastate Sansa, in the same way it would Sybel if it was Inferno. Sybel could imagine the loss as clearly as her own, because it was all their loss. They had been gone from Winterfell for such a short time and already one direwolf was lost and another would be dead in the morning. Already one sister had been missing and one had been hurt. Sybel had never been so sure that leaving was a bad idea.

Sybel reached up to wipe away her tears spilling out, and she felt the warmth of a hand hover hear her arm, as though offering comfort before thinking better of it. She almost wished it would close the distance and pull her in close. "I'm sorry, my lady."

They stood like that for a minute, Sybel feeling the hurt in the tightness of her chest and wiping at her eyes. And Jory didn't move, almost like he couldn't, and they stood like that until Alyse re-emerged from the room to get more water, stumbling almost to a stop before smoothly catching her footing. Jory dropped his arms quickly enough that Sybel felt it keenly too.

She wiped her eyes again quickly and hurried towards the room with her sisters, helping Arya clean herself, and drying Sansa's tears, pulling her in close. She reassured Arya, and felt the sadness with Sansa, until she laid down in between them, murmuring and soothing.

Their father returned and Sansa pulled herself up out of bed quicker than Sybel had ever seen, her eyes pleading for different news. But their father only looked grim and sad. Sansa's tears started again and Arya wailed about it not being fair and Sybel was torn in the discord of emotions in the room.

It was many hours later before they finally fell asleep.