Winterroses

"Et tu, Brute?"

-Shakespeare, Ceasar-

He's no stranger to jealousy. After all he had to work hard for almost everything that other people are naturally granted. A look in the eye just to name an example, let alone someone who cared about him.

And yet... now that he has to share the only thing he always took for granted he can't help but feel irritated. He glares at the scene before him and tells himself that he is being ridiculous. That knowledge isn't making it any better.

"Ohh, aren't you a handsome fellow? You look so pretty! Good boy, gooood boooy!"

Sansa's melodic voice is floating through the yard, making several of the servants hurrying about and even some of the guards turn their heads and stare. At least until they find themselves in the very undesirable position of the object of his lone attention. Catching his glare they all hastily turn to inspect the nearest wall with surprising interest.

There she is, the oldest daughter of Winterfell. His wife. Beautiful like sunlight glistening on fresh snow, an adoring look on her face and petting his horse. It just doesn't sit very well with him.

A net of Winterroses adorns the skillfully braided mane of the big black beast that is his his mount and the little bird is about to set to work on a matching hairdo for his tail. He has never seen the damn horse more pleased.

He doesn't need to turn around to know that the little bitch Sansa calls her sister is staring at him, lips probably curled up in dark amusement. He can feel it.

Seven hells, when did this happen? And how?

Sansa spots him, where he is leaning against a pillar and tries to look like this isn't bothering him at all, and waves him over.

"There you are! I've been looking for you all morning. Doesn't Stranger look pretty?" She catches his expression and misreads it promptly, biting her lip. "Y-You're not angry, are you? I can open the braid if you want me too."

It's clear that she doesn't really want to, her eyes wide and blue and pleading.

He's not sure… is he angry? Not at what she thinks. No. And on the other thing? She looks so happy and her eyes are so wide and blue… How can he be angry when his little bird is enjoying herself so much? Sighing and shaking his head, he pushes off the pillar and takes a step towards her, ready to admire her handiwork, when Stranger wheels around, ears flat on his neck, and bares his teeth at him. Startled, he reels back before leaning forward again, ready to drag Sansa out of danger…

"No, Stranger no! Stop it! Bad boy. Bad,bad boy!"

Sansa gives the rope that holds the courser a firm tug and suddenly the raging monster is gone and leaves a calm and friendly horse in its wake. Gently the gelding nuzzles Sansas cheek and she giggles, scratching him between the eyes while Stranger throws him a deathglare that rivals his own.

And he? He just stands there frozen while the little wolf-bitch laughs so loud and hard that a swarm of birds is taking flight in the nearby godswood and Sansa turns to stare at her in utter confusion.

Again he asks himself. When did this happen? And how?

He still feels a pang of jealousy.

Damn it all, that used to be his horse!

A/N: Ahem.. don't ask me where that came from... was heavily inspired by kashicanhaz' fic "A Girl's best Friend" (i love it, go, read it if you haven't already) and just wanted to write something with Stranger in it i think...

well... now i did XD

see you around, Mag!

PS: Cause I can't reply directly to guest reviews, i will just add that here: Thanks for the review in the first place (as well as all the other guestreviews!)and as you pointed out, Stranger is mentioned as a stallion in the books, not a gelding. It's been some time since i read this part so it is possible, that i misremembered or misunderstood... cause when Brienne encounters him at the Quiet Isle Brother Narbert told her about how they hoped gelding him would make him calmer... (much good that does, when the horses have lived the majority of their lifes as stallions)... and it was not clear if they succeeded . If I remember correctly he bit of someones ear in retaliation though... So i kept it this way, since i've met enough ill-tempered geldings already. I will read that up again though, so thanks for pointing it out!

BTW:

ASoIaF and all its characters belong to George R.R. Martin.

See ya, Mag~