The Snows of Winterfell – The First Song: Vengeance of the She-Wolf

VERSE ONE – THE SHE-WOLF

Line Three: Adrian

The air was a burning chill that seared Adrian's lungs with an intensity he couldn't deny. He sighed, cracking a content smile because he loved the cold. Perhaps it was because he was born in the North a son of the Moon and Night, a Shadewood. The scent of cooking meats drifted up to him as he stood on the landing adjacent to his bedchambers. Here, the wind was unrelenting, merciless. Looking out over the darkness of the wood below, he could just see the thin line of The Wall, with its hundred leagues away from the Black Keep. The "House of Night" was a fond moniker for his ancestry, an inside joke by the family, not too far from the truth.

Most Lords of the Shadowstone grew to pledge themselves to the Night's Watch, only after they married, and their wives bore them sons to carry on their names. Adrian had no such children yet, but he was only in his mid-twenties, and so had time. His father had already moved on to be a Sworn Brother, then died soon after beyond The Wall in the wilds of the North. Such was the fate of most men borne of Shadow and Stone. The young man sighed again, his gaze over the lands his family Watched for centuries. This dark place was his homeland, and he was glad for the fact that his descendants settled here and not farther down South. The War of the Five Kings was still raging, and as he had already sent out his men to give aid to the new Queen, he had to wonder how long this war could last.

"Sooner or later, someone will give."

Let us hope it is the Lion, and not the Wolf, he thought turning back into his room.

Closing the thin shutter-doors behind him, Adrian settled down at his desk and let the fire in the hearth burn low before feeding it again. He contemplated what to write in his message to Her Majesty and called in his steward, Mason Umber.

"You will send a messenger with this note to Winterfell immediately, understood?" The man nodded, and Adrian turned to his stationary:

To Her Royal Majesty Ellaria Stark, First of Her Name

Queen of the North, of the Trident, and the First Men

I, Lord Adrian Shadewood of the Shadowstone, Lord of Shadow, do grant you a company of men if my lady should so need them. You may have little use for them, but I fear this is not the case. We of the Night will accompany you in your quest to end this feud of Stark and Lannister by blood if necessary. With this message, I give you a host of twenty men. They are all I can spare, and I would beg my lady's forgiveness. Winter is coming, the North wind tells me this. Our harvest will be over in less than a fortnight, and my household must be secure. If need be, my men will ride a day after this pledge is made, and seek out the towers of Winterfell soon after. Again, I beg your lady's forgiveness, for these men are all I can spare. We shall meet in due time.

Adrian Shadewood

Lord of the Shadow and Stone, Commander of the Tower

Days later, Adrian stifled the groan that was rising in his throat. He was weary from travel, yet he knew that the Queen had not much time left. He had folded the letter, and pressed his seal to paper, been about to give it to Mason—but then he thought that it was much better to deliver the men in person, and see what plans she had for himself.

"I've changed my mind. The Night shall ride at daybreak."

Mason had looked confused, but did not question his lord. He bowed his head and then left the room, leaving Adrian alone. In the morning the young Lord had mustered his household, consisting of his mother the Lady Felice and his sisters, nine-year-old Adreya and eleven-year-old Adryna, to head out by the afternoon. His House was only fifty strong with Mason as his steward, Maester Caelyn, and Mason's cousin Ser Jasper Umber as captain of his household guard. He left Caelyn and Alistair, Jasper's cousin, in charge until his return. The Shadewood line had dwindled over the years, and Lady Felice had hoped to match Adrian with one such as Ellaria Stark in all honesty. Adrian had no hope for the match, albeit she was a beautiful woman—he would choose his own wife.

Now he was holding against the cold night, and his mother and sisters were sleeping in the carriage as they rode for a day and a half. Winterfell was at least two days away.

"Mason," Adrian called.

His good friend and steward was at his side in an instant, having taken care of the other men for a bit.

"My lord?"

"Tell the men that we'll be moving on now. Winterfell is close, and I would not have them sleep in the snow when there may be beds waiting for them."

Mason nodded and followed his Lord's command, calling them into their saddles.

"We've not that far to go. Kyah!" He dug his heels into his black stallion's side and the steed started down the hill.

By the time they reached the gates, it was late. The snow that began to fall had left blankets on the ground, and the horses and carriage took coaxing and pushing to move. Adrian would have preferred to arrive before the sun had gone down, or at least into the morning, but it was no use complaining about the cold. The Starks— or what was left of them — and the Shadewoods were born and raised in the cold, even if he and the Queen had been born in the Long Summer. Moving ahead of the men, Adrian and Mason rode up to the gate. He could see the guards moving along the paths atop the wall of stone.

"Halt!" someone shouted. "Who goes there?"

"A friend of Winter!" called Adrian. "We who were born into the Night!"

"The Lord Shadewood? We bid you enter, m'lord!"

The gates began to open, and Adrian and his House were waved through. They entered the inner courtyard, and the castle's keep was dark as it loomed over them. Adrian noted a passing guard. Before he could ask where she was, the very same person he was seeking broke through the tree-line ahead of a golden-blonde man: quite a sight unheard of this far up North—lest he be in chains. When a guard spotted her, he gave a shout:

"The Queen in the North comes!"

Following the direction of the man's voice, he watched as Ellaria appeared from the embrace of the Godswood—with a blonde man on her heels. She paused at the sight of him and household, and took a moment to focus on him.

"Adrian!" she gasped, surging towards him. "What are you doing here so late?"

Adrian had dismounted and moved past his men to help his mother out of the carriage. He knew she would be awake now; she had a knack for appearing at the oddest times, such as when he was in the middle of important foreign affairs, and she would force him to at least down some bread and water to keep himself going—or now, when they arrived in Winterfell. She had been an acquaintance of Lady Catelyn Stark when she'd visited Riverrun, and letters had passed between the two for years afterwards, until her untimely death. Lady Felice Shadewood stepped out of the carriage with Mason's help, and put a pale hand in her son's dark hair.

"Where is the little one?" She asked as though Ellaria hadn't grown since last she saw her, a common saying from when they'd been younger.

Adrian was seven years her senior, although he wouldn't exactly keep up in calling her a child; she was more of a young woman now than anything, of both marriageable and childbearing age. Adrian would have been surprised that she hadn't been married and had children yet, but it wasn't a Northern custom to force your children into a loveless, so he could see the distinct appeal of waiting. He turned at the sound of the sweet voice he hadn't heard in years.

"There, Mother—there is the Little Wolf," Adrian took his mother's hand, and met Ellaria halfway.

"Your Grace," he said as they bowed low. "House Shadewood pledges its men to the cause of the Wolf."

The young queen blinked at them, and he could tell that she may not be one for so much formal protocol yet, but she eventually curtsied and answered politely.

"I thank you, Lord Adrian, Lady Felice—the need for more men is paramount if we are to fell the Lannister host. Your contribution is gravely appreciated, he noted her warm smile.

"And apparently, I am no longer a 'Little Wolf', but a She-Wolf. Some even say that I am half Direwolf!"

At the mention of her kin, Winter's Keeper appeared out of nowhere, casually from the Godswood. Her mistress tutted at her, wondering if she'd been there the whole time before she looked back to the Shadewoods.

"Ah, this-" she gestured to Tybalt, "as you can surely see, is Lord Tybalt Lannister. He is an Honored Guest of Winterfell, as are you for the duration of your stay, my lord and lady; there is most certainly no need to rush back home," she gave Adrian a pointed look, gesturing to his mother and the girls.

"Come along, little stars," she coaxed softly as Adrian's sisters, both of whom had only seen nine years, took her hands. "You both look like you could use a nice, hot meal, a bath, and a warm bed. And I shall personally have your elder brother flogged for dragging you out here into the winter night like this!"

She was about to call on Maester Luwin to prepare their rooms- before she remembered that he was dead and that she had yet to appoint another. Clearing her throat, she waved a hand. "Your rooms within the Keep will be ready soon, unless you wish to use the spare rooms adjacent to Lord Lannister's in the Guest House…?"

"The Cold Ones will take me before that happens, my lady."

Adrian's tone turned colder than the ice used to build The Wall as his gaze burned into Tybalt Lannister. His mother gave him a stern look.

"You suggest they sleep in the carriage?" Lady Felice took on a mother's glare and a sharp tone that rivaled her son's. Adrian glanced at Ellaria.

"I beg your pardon, Lady-Mother. I only meant that I would not have a Lannister so close to the Night's jewels." He adored his sisters, and Adrian despised the Lannisters and their pride.

His father he called Tywin the Tyrant for his part in the Sack of King's Landing. And his father's banishment from Court. Adrian took a deep breath, and spotted the direwolf that had appeared. The last he has seen was Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf. The memory made him sad; he had been friends with the late King in The North, and regretted not being present at the Red Wedding. Adreya and Adryna both gasped, dashing behind their elder brother. His mother would have told them how unladylike it was if it weren't so late.

"Apologies, Your Grace. I know the hour is late, but I was hard pressed to come to your aid. I know not how far away the Lannister host is; I presumed to travel after I sent you a message by raven. But it would be too cold, and I thought, 'why send one man, when I can go myself?' So here we are."

"Yes, dear, a warm meal and a hot bath does sound inviting. Girls?" Adryna was just as old as Sansa Stark, and Adreya as old as Arya when Lord Eddard was executed by Ilyn Payne. The girls came forward and bowed to their new Queen.

"Your Grace," they said. "We thank you for your hospitality." Adryna said with a soft smile.

Lord Shadewood didn't fail to notice the Lannister rolling his eyes. He was used to this kind of treatment by the northmen, surely. So Adrian saw no reason to treat him any different. It seemed as though he weren't the only one, either. Markus Reullius appeared, ever the Stark Queen's shadow, and carefully approached Ellaria. A good Northman knew that trust was as hard to find as warmth in winter. He did not speak, however, but remained as silent as a grave. It seemed as though Tybalt Lannister wasn't exactly enjoying the attention, either. Adrian watched he noticed Markus scowling at him, and it was clear that he didn't care for the knight, either. Markus treated him like the rest of the remaining Stark bannermen. Of course, there was rumor that perhaps the swornsword wished to be more, as the way Markus kept looking at wasn't so subtle…. But, it was probably nothing. Of course he'd at least have a friendship with her, as her personal guard. Ellaria Stark was in good need of people to trust, in any case.

Ellaria rose a brow at him, surely noticing the series of dark expressions he gave the Lannister and his biting words,

"Lord Tybalt is an honored guest in Winterfell, Lord Adrian. But if you have no liking for the temporary arrangements I propose, then by all means you may sleep underneath the roof of the Great Hall. It's been mended, but I've heard that there may still be a few cracks, and it is not as sturdy as it once was- it may fall in if the snow becomes too heavy. And I am afraid that I must remind you that Cold Ones would rather take us all than just you?"

She glanced Markus' way. "Would you see to it that his men are properly housed and properly fed? Perhaps, if Adrian feels so strongly, the girls may use Sansa and Arya's rooms until they return; I will have their baths drawn myself. My lord and lady, you are free to use the springs just on the other side of the Guest House to bathe."

She then knelt down to his sisters' eye-level and smiled warmly.

"There is no need to talk with such formality, or worry; Winter's Keeper wouldn't hurt pups as sweet as you are," she said softly to them, warming their hands in hers. To the wild direwolf, who gave a soft snort at the frightened faces of the girls, she murmured,

"Sit, pretty girl, and be nice."

As Markus gave Ellaria a respectful nod- and Tybalt one last grimace -he stepped forward and began to conduct the men as they began to unload the carriages. Ellaria called on a servant to inform the kitchen staff that they had guests, and to prepare a small but hot meal as nothing was leftover from supper; as she directed the small family inside, Ellaria glanced at the Lannister.

"Come along, my lords- I did not see you in the Hall during supper, either, Tybalt, and one cannot be avoided or avoid for long."

Adrian was glad to have received a place on the dias with Ellaria. His mother sat a seat away, and between them, his sisters. Adreya and Adryna discussed which Bannerman they knew the most about, but he didn't miss how Adryna stole glances at Tybalt Lannister. His mother looked the part of the proud Lady; he couldn't blame her. She was seated next to the Queen in the North, after all.

"Adreya," his youngest sister looked up at him with eyes that matched his own, only hers were like snow grey snow. "Are you not hungry? I apologize for letting you stay in the carriage as long as you did..." The little star shook her head, dark hair swaying.

"No, Brother. I was just thinking how big this place is. I'd never been here before..." She was right; the girls had never had the pleasure to visit Winterfell in the past years. He blamed the wars. Adrian put down his fork, wiped his mouth, and kissed her hair.

"No, little one. The Wolf's place is in the Godswood, close to the Old Ones, always hunting, always howling. A Star of the Night's place is in the sky, shining with the moon. You're too young to have seen the castle, so tomorrow, I shall give you and your sister a tour. Perhaps the Queen would like to-" Adrian had made himself loud enough to be heard by Ellaria, only to see her give a dirty look to Tybalt Lanister before descending the dais and leaving the hall.

He frowned, but Adrian stood with respect, as did the Bannermen when the Queen left.

"What have you done now, young Lion?" Lady Felice asked Tybalt. The woman was old, but old enough to tell when a women had been bothered with. "Just a minute ago, she's happy as a babe, and now look at her, as sour as the fruit of a weirwood..."

Tybalt turned a bit to Lady Felice and gave her an apologetic look, "I wish I knew dear Lady. I wish I knew..."

Adrian sighed, and gave his sisters a kiss on each dark head. Although he was certain no weirdwood ever bore fruit, there was no telling—perhaps Old Nan had gotten to his mother with her wild tales.

"Pardon me, Lady-Mother." With that, Adrian descended the dais, and left the hall after Ellaria. He was surprised at how well he remembered the layout of these halls from his childhood. Adrian found Ellaria standing by an open window.

"Your Grace?" he said to her. "What troubles you?"

Ellaria jumped at the sound of a wolf's howl as it pierced the dark, cold night air, and half wished it was who she wanted to be as she leaned out of the window. But then his voice had her attention to order. Gasping at the sound, she whirled to face him.

"It is... nothing, Adrian. Nothing troubles me," she blatantly lied, turning slowly back towards the window, unwanted to be coaxed or consoled for her outburst. Her jawline tightened, and a muscled ticked underneath the surface of her pale skin.

"It was merely... something I imagined..." she shook her head once, and he noted her tone to be more frustrated than saddened.

At this, Adrian couldn't help but smile. His Northern eyes watched the Queen's face. She was beautiful, yes, but then and there, she looked at frightened as a child. The young Lord of Shadow moved up next to the window.

"Poor little pup," he said to her. "Pardon me for saying so, but... in the years I've seen you, then and now... You never could lie to me."

His deep voice was soft, and reassuring. He hadn't seen his childhood friend in years, and now that they were both of age, it was time to act like adults. Even if they were both a little young to lead a Great House of their own.

"For years, I've wondered about you. Granted, we spoke time and time again, but that was only when your lord-father had been present. And even then, we rarely spoke. I must apologize. I meant not to leave you alone after the betrayal at the Twins. I had to secure the Night's stronghold, send word to Shadow Tower and her Lord-Commander... I'm sorry I did not come sooner- that I did not lend you my aid when you needed it most. Will you forgive me, little pup?"

Adrian's voice had gone soft, and he started thinking back to when he, Robb, Jon, and Ellaria were children. Yes, it was only a few years ago, but so much had changed...

"Adrian, there's enough of that going around. I understand that you could not be there- not every single man in the North could be at Riverrun that night even when he wished he was, and everyone knows it. All that matters is that I have you support now," she wrinkled her nose at him as though they were indeed still children and she was teasing him.

"And of course I could lie to you when we were younger- I did it all of the time! It was you who could never lie to me, as I recall," she huffed, slowly reverting back to herself as she fell into an easy conversation with him.

In her eyes, he was sure to have grown handsome, hte unnatural-born brother who fell from the Northern Star itself. His eyes were similar to hers, pale ice blue and frame by alabaster skin and hair that was as black as the Godswood in the middle of a cold winter's night. The matching black stubble blanketing the lower half of his face and chin reminded her as well as most of a wolf, with its dark coat growing in for the winter. It defined him more, on a certain level, and he watched as she nodded appreciatively.

She would remember a few years back, when she and her father had come upon him with Robb and Jon; the three of them, having grown taller and wider, decided to see just who was more of a man—by judging the hairs on his face. Adrian's mistake was asking Ellaria to be their judge and jury, of course. When it came time for her to judge him, the young woman had smoothly pulled out the only hair she had seen on his face, and ended up being chased by all three boys around the Courtyard and the Kennels for the next hour. It had grown back, however, and with an abundant vengeance. A small smile tugged at her lips then.

Evading his claim that she was lying to him, Ellaria said,

"I see you've finally won that contest you started with Robb and Jon those years ago. But if I felt so inclined for you to lose a second time, I'd have to pull out all of that hair on your face, and then where would you be, hm?"

Adrian smiled, and laughed. He outright laughed at the Queen. "Forgive me, but who was it that incited a rebellion that involved facial hair?" Adrian remembered that time well- his beard had grown within a month and some days, much to Lord Eddard's amusement. Adrian had been only childishly angry with Ellaria for pulling his first sign of manhood. Shaking his head, Adrian looked out the window.

There was a pain in his eyes; not new-found, only hidden from everyone else. Only Mason knew how much Robb's death and Jon's disappearance had pained him almost as greatly as Ellaria. Perhaps that was why he protected his sisters so: because they were just like her. Adrian felt fiercely ashamed of the tears at brimmed his eyes at the thoughts of his lost brothers and adoptive mother.

"I remember those days all too well. So much so that it pains me... They were my brothers..." Adrian whispered.

Softening further, Ellaria gave her old friend a sideways glance and shook her head as the wind picked up her hair. A heavy sigh lifted her chest as she thought to herself,

The Gods assembled and devised pain as a way to bring man together. How ironic in its cruelty.

She reached and lifted the tear from Adrian's cheek with a finger. "Do not worry, Brother Star," she said, calling him by the childhood name the Stark siblings had given him. "I will see to it that all will be well in the North, come next we-"

Just then, Ellaria cut herself off and shuddered, glancing out into the Courtyard. She frowned deeply, the Lord Shadewood tensed, unsure of what she would say next

"I think... that something is wrong... "

Even though he saw nothing out of the ordinary, Ellaria still frowned darkly and her eyes narrowed sharply as she stared out into the night through the window. Adrian himself partially leaning out of the window to get a better look, and saw a familiar figure in grey and red.

"Tybalt?" He called out.

Sure enough, it was the Red Reasoner after all who yelled up to them, "Your Grace! My Lord! There seems to be some commotion in the Great Hall!"