Sorry that it has been so long since I last updated but what with Christmas and travelling back home to see my family it has been a busy period of time, hopefully however I will be able to update regularly, but the chapters are quite long anyway. Thank you for the review and the follows that this story has received. Knowing that people are reading spurs me on so much and I will strife to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.

Thank you so much!

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter Two.

She woke to the sound of a cart being unloaded and the grunts of men in the yard below, a cold draft seeped into the room from an entrance unknown. Her stomach grumbled, and she shivered, pulling her covers up to her chin. The sky outside was a milky white, there were no other blemishes. She stood. The coldness of the room startling and causing goosebumps to rise up on her skin, she gathered her bed covers around her and went to the window. There was no sign of Robb or Jon Snow sparring in the yard, meaning that her father and brothers had left to deal with the deserter already, they would be gone for the best part of the morning, so she resolved to get dressed and go down and find Sansa, apparently they younger girl wanted some advice.

She was happy to give whatever assistance she could, but she didn't know if it was of any worth. Sansa was one of those girls who longed for a handsome Knight and a castle, and Tarynn really wasn't the one to educate her in the way of love. Considering how she hadn't ever experienced it. She had read about it in books, sure. But she hadn't ever had it affect her. She moved to her wardrobe, dropping the covers on the floor as her body adjusted to the temperature. She opened it and was faced with a few choices on what to wear for the day. Her dress from the previous night, dark green velvet, was left over the back of her desk chair. She would have to take it down to be washed for Rickon had spilt some of his gravy over her the previous night and it had left a dark brown stain on the fabric. At the moment she was only wearing a thin white sleep dress, and she couldn't waltz out of her room in just that.

She pulled from her wardrobe a grey dress, similar to the one that she wore the day before but it had no embroidery on the skirt. She pulled that on over her smallclothes and braided her long brown hair. When she looked in the looking glass she looked presentable. She went to where her shoes were, all lined up in a row on a low wooden table that Robb had crafted when he had exclaimed to everyone rather memorably at the table one morning that he was going to become a carpenter. He was only twelve and had been to the village the previous day, her mother said that he had been mesmerised by the hammers that hung on the stone wall in the carpenter's shop. The low wooden table, which had sneakily been moved from the front hall to her bedroom, was the product of Robb's labours. The wood didn't match, and she had to slip a book under one of the legs because it was shorter then the others but it still served its purpose.

She took from off the table, a pair of battered brown lace up boots; the oldest pair she owned. Her mother always complained whenever she wore them, and twice Tarynn had to stop her from throwing them out. But they were comfortable, and they still had life in them yet. She sat on the edge of the bed and tugged them onto her feet; she laced them up before standing and smoothing out her skirts. She picked up her dirtied dress and folded it over her arm before leaving her room and heading downstairs to break her fast.

When she reached the small dining room she was surprised to see her mother Catelyn Stark still occupying the table. Her mother was originally of House Tully, but had married Eddard Stark in order to strengthen the ties between the two houses. However before her marriage to father, she had been betrothed to Brandon Stark, the eldest son, and original heir to Winterfell. He had been killed though, by the Mad King Aerys. It was quite horrific.

"Tarynn Stark, what are on your feet?!"

So she had noticed them then, she lifted up her skirts so that her mother could see her boots, "Why they're shoes mother, comfortable inventions that stop your feet from getting cold when walking."
"Stop the sarcasm young lady this instant."

The relationship with her mother was just as strained as the relationship she had with Arya. Both had different ideas and morals. Catelyn wanted her eldest daughter married and producing grandchildren. Tarynn wanted to see the world and write books on her escapades. They were quite at odds with one another whenever the topic of the future popped up. But, Tarynn knew when to stop, she dropped her gaze and sat at the table, reaching for a hunk of bread that had been sliced off the end of a loaf.

"Father has gone then?" She reached for the butter that was sat on top of a clay dish with a knife, cutting some of it off.

"Yes, with your brothers. He even took Bran," She stopped spreading the butter on her bread and looked up, her mother must've seen the look of shock on her face because she reached across and gently caressed the top of Tarynn's hand. "Yes I admit, Bran is only seven and I did question your father's decision on taking him, but he is stubborn, and would not relent. He said that it would do Bran some good to see the horrors of this world." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, "I just wish he didn't have to see it quite yet."

Tarynn understood, her brother was still innocent and trusting, his blue eyes betrayed his every emotion and he could not lie if his life depended on it. It would be a sad day the day that Bran lost his innocence.

"So father is going to execute this man?"

"Yes. In front of his sons," She took a breath before opening her eyes again, "To show them what it means to be a leader, and a man of your word. You do not allow others to do what is your duty for it is the way of the old… and to show them that winter is coming." She stood, the chair scraping across the stone floor. "Sansa was looking for you this morning; I don't know what for but she seemed flustered."

"I know mama; I will find her soon and perhaps be of help to any worry that has begun to bother her."

"Well have a good day my sweet." As she swept past, Catelyn Tully gently touched her daughter on the shoulder, her subtle way of displaying affection to her oldest and most stubborn child. She saw much of Eddard in her, and nothing of herself.

When the door closed behind her mother, Tarynn took a bite out of bread, her mind pondering over what the day might bring as she chewed the fluffy morsel. Her mind wandered again to the news her father said he had, her imagination running wild as she thought of exciting things that could be the news. Perhaps she was going to be warded in the South, maybe they were going to go travelling in the Free Cities… Perhaps they were going to visit Grandpa and Uncle Edmure in Riverrun. The most likely conclusion was that her father had found her a betrothed. She shivered as her mind ran over that thought, even though she didn't like the idea of marrying, and didn't really have a penchant for all things romantic, she had hoped her parents would allow her to marry when she was ready.

As her thoughts took a depressing turn the door creaked open and in slipped Sansa. At eleven years old she was slight and beautiful. Her hair was fiery red and her eyes pale blue. She was prettier then all the Stark children combined, a fact she knew. However she wasn't very ambitious, and was driven only by the fact that one day she would have her own holdings and be a wonderful wife to some handsome Lord. She was a typical High-Born girl.

"Sansa, I was just about to look for you," The girl's pretty blue eyes were filling with tears, her lower lip trembled, "Oh Sansa." Tarynn stood and pulled her younger sister into her arms, "What's wrong?"

"Sansa's voice wobbled as she spoke, her words choked and almost unintelligible, "It's just…"

"What? Is it Arya? Has she hurt you again?" Only a few weeks ago had Arya smacked Sansa across the arm with a stick from the Godswood. It had left a bright red mark before settling into a gruesome purple bruise that covered most of Sansa's forearm. Arya was forced to stay in her bedroom for three days, something that the adventurous creature had hated.

"It's… No she hasn't hurt me." Tarynn pulled away, holding the girl at arms length so that she could look at her, checking her over for anymore bruising. "It's just, I overheard mother and father, they want me to be warded somewhere else, they don't want me here any longer. They love Arya more that's why they want me to go."

She burst into tears and Tarynn knew that the scenario wasn't as bad as Sansa had made it out to be. It was just a sisterly rivalry that Sansa and Arya had going between them, unfortunately Sansa could be a tad sensitive and all too trusting that what people discussed was what was going to happen, which wasn't the case in many circumstances.

"Being a ward isn't so bad," She wracked her brain for an example, "Look at Theon. He's perfectly happy about where he is and doesn't complain… Too much. And besides Sansa, if you become a ward perhaps you will meet your Prince!"

The girl nodded and sniffed, Tarynn reached for a white handkerchief that was lying on the table, "Here." The girl accepted it and blew her nose, "And they're not going to send you away because they love Arya more, don't be silly."

Sansa smiled faintly, "Tarynn… Thank you."

Tarynn gave the girl one more embrace, "Now go, or Mordane will have you head."

Tarynn felt accomplished, she had comforted her normally spiteful sister and had found something in common with her mother. They both believed that Bran was too young to be seeing a man's head being loped off. She felt it was quite insensitive of her father to insist that Bran was there, but then again, like her mother said, her father was stubborn when it came to things like that.

Tarynn reached for an apple, its skin was red and as she rolled it around in her hands, searching for any blemishes, she contemplated what life would be like in the South; which was obviously where this apple came from. That or the Free Cities although the South seemed a more likely conclusion. Father had often spoken of the weather when he had been to King's Landing in the days of the rebellion, his description was that the air was filled with moisture and the heat battered you in waves. Even the strongest man could fight for only so long in the hot, winding streets that weaved beneath Aegon's High Hill and the Red Keep. But she longed for that, longed for a break when she didn't have to put on ten layers so as not to freeze to death. She wanted to run barefoot through soft green grass, instead of stomping through cold wet snow.

She sighed, taking a bite out of the apple when the door creaked open for a second time.

"I'm sorry Mi'Lady. I thought you had all finished," The girl went to leave.

"No, no. I was just about to leave anyway. Please." She stood and gestured to the table, "Do what you need to do." With an apple in one hand and her dirty dress in the other, Tarynn departed from the small dining room. The girl stepped out of the way as Tarynn passed.

She walked down the hallways, eating her apple as she went, and across the great hall to the kitchen, preferring to take the inside route in stead of crossing over the yard. Upon reaching the kitchen she handed her dress over to one of the laundry girls with instructions on where the stain was and what type of material the dress was made out of. The girl she had handed it to had just stood there staring blankly at her, when Tarynn had asked wherever she needed the instructions to be repeated the girl shook her head, did a small curtsey and ran off. The spoilt green velvet dress clutched to her chest. Tarynn threw her apple core onto a metal container that was already piled high with scraps. The apple's juice was still sticky on her fingers as she pushed open the door that led to Maester's room. Then she remembered something.

She darted out into the yard to see a trail of men carrying items, flasks, bottles, books into the turret below the rookery. Maester Luwin was moving rooms so that he could be closer to his ravens, that way he need not walk so far. He wasn't exactly a young man any longer. She weaved through the men, some were servants of the castle, and others must've come from the village for she did not recognise all of them. She slipped through a gap in the chain, and entered the Maester's, new, turret.

It was large and cylindrical, the inside held bookshelves and furniture, moved there already it seemed by the men that the Maester had conscripted into helping him. The man himself was hunched over at the back, a large tome in his hands. He wasn't moving so whatever book he was reading must have been rapturing, she decided to break him from his reverie.

"Maester Luwin?" She approached him, her eyes flickering from the Maester to the tome that was being held in his arms, she had hoped for a glimpse of the cover but to no avail.

"Oh, Tarynn I didn't see you come in." He closed the book with an audible snap before sliding it onto a shelf already crammed with books of various shapes and sizes. "What can I do for you today?"

"I was hoping that you had some more reading material for me, I've finished Erlwin's recount of the Andal Invasion, and his detailing is extraordinary. Considering how he wrote his account 200 years after the initial attack.."

"Sources my dear and you should be wondering how his account has lasted over 5'000 years. He most likely travelled the country, collecting old wives tales and different view points on how the invasion happened and what the Andals did to the Children of the Forest and so on… But here I am mumbling on, you would like a new book, yes?"

"I would, something else to keep me occupied when I can't sleep at night."

Maester Luwin turned away from her and went to another bookcase that had been erected in a different part of the turret, "Are you still having trouble with sleeping at night Tarynn?"

"I just keep having these strange dreams," She raised a hand to her head, smoothing out her hair a little before letting her hand fall to her side, "They seem so vivid and real but I know there not real, like I'm in a waking nightmare."

Maester Luwin turned back around, "I'll get something for you to use which will help you sleep better… Now here, this is an interesting tome." He handed her a heavy book, the cover was brown leather and on the front a sigil had been pressed into it. "It's a recount of the Children of the Forest, scraps of lore that bards and travellers have collected over the ages. It makes interesting bedtime reading. But don't believe everything that has been written into it. The Children of the Forest are stuff of legends."

She clasped the book to her chest, "Thank you Maester Luwin," She gazed around the room, which was still quite bare, "Do you need any help?"

"Why yes, if you could just order these jars on that shelf over there that would be of great help."

Tarynn spent the rest of the morning helping Maester Luwin settle into his new dwelling, she had labelled ingredients, and ordered books according to their first runes. It was calming, and she lost track of time, that was until she heard the sound of hooves and voices in the yard. She placed the last book from the stack that Maester Luwin had handed her, a collection of poems and songs, and ventured out into the yard.

"Father!" Rickon came running out towards the horses, Arya close behind. Her mother and Sansa, who was no longer crying and seemed to have regained her composure, were stood in the main entrance. Her father dismounted his horse, a dark grey courser, and gathered up his youngest children in his arms, he kissed the top of Arya's head and ruffled Rickon's hair, who gave a childish giggle before sitting down on the stone floor.

She looked past her father to where Theon, Robb, Jon and Bran sat, still on their horses. In their arms there was what looked like a wriggling mass of fur, which were in an array of colours. Theon caught her gaze and motioned her over, his grin stretching over his face. He raised one of the bundles of fur up, and as Tarynn drew nearer she realised that it wasn't just skins of an animal that they had hunted but rather an actual animal. The creature that Theon had lifted up, by the scruff of the neck, was dark brown almost black but not quite, with bright blue eyes. It growled and scrabbled in Theon's grasp.

"Wolves?"

Her father appeared behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Not just any wolves, direwolves."

Bran piped up from a top his pony, "Like our sigil Tarynn," In his arm nestled another of the wolves.

"Where did you find them?" She accepted the wolf from Theon, who when held in her arms stopped struggling and licked the side of her face.

"On our way back from the… We found them on the outskirts of the forest, their mother had been killed," The bastard's eyes bored into her own, he was sitting in the saddle of the horse beside Theon's.

Theon bent down in his saddle, whispering in her ear, "I chose that one for you, he has the same beautiful shade of eyes as you."

Tarynn ignored his comment, and instead turned her attentions to the wolf in her arms, his blue eyes were inquisitive, as if he knew what was going on. She had read very little about the nature of direwolves, but knew that they were fearsome beasts, which men often feared. Robb dismounted and handed out one of the pups to Arya and set the other one between Rickon's legs. The toddler gasped with delight and hugged the wolf tight. Theon flashed yet another grin at her before handing her the other pup. Tarynn turned on her heel and went over to where Sansa stood in the doorway.

"Here you go," She handed over the pup to Sansa, out of the bunch, the one that was now nestled in Sansa's arms seemed to be the most docile. She was also significantly smaller than all the other direwolves.

"I hope your father has some explanation for bringing these beasts back to our home."

Sansa looked up, the tiny wolf's yellow eyes glowing faintly, "They're not beasts' mother, look at her. She's adorable."

"Don't worry mother I'm sure father has some condition that we must follow if we keep them." Her own wolf snapped its jaws, a small growl escaping from it.

Her mother sighed under her breath, "Your father always has a condition for everything, I hope he has, I do not feel comfortable in my home with wild beasts prowling the halls."

Tarynn could understand, her mother was a Tully after all and wouldn't understand the importance of Direwolves to the Starks, not fully at least. Tarynn on the other hand was a Stark and had read lore over why the Starks had chosen this fearsome breed of wolf as their emblem. The wolf in her arms nuzzled its snout against her chest, its soft dark fur rippling in the afternoon sunlight. Overhead the caw of a raven echoed across the sky.

"A raven? At this time of day? Tell your father I will speak with him later, I must fetch whatever the raven brings from Maester Luwin."

Sansa and Tarynn watched as their mother crossed the yard, Maester Luwin fell in to walk beside her as she neared the rookery. Tarynn turned from Sansa, whose attention was solely on the pup in her arms and approached her younger brother Robb. Even though he was two years younger than her he stood a head taller, his auburn hair was vibrant in the sun.

"Sister, I can see that you have chosen your wolf well, his fur matches your hair."

"Theon chose him for me apparently." She glanced over to where the Ironborn was, laughing with one of the stableboys, his longbow slung over his shoulder.

He clearly has affections for me; surely it wouldn't be so bad if I was betrothed to him?

The thought was washed away however when he winked at a passing kitchen girl, who giggled before hurrying off. He is too free with his affections that was his problem. He had bedded more girls then she cared to count.

"It appears to me that Theon is vying for your attention sister."

"Why does he want mine? He gets it enough from the whores that you see in the village."

Her brother laughed, his blue eyes shining beneath his mop of hair, "He has a way with woman, and perhaps that's a good thing, I have heard nothing ill said when I have spoken with the…"

She raised an eyebrow, and her brother suddenly took on a sheepish look. She didn't want to believe that her brother had visited a whore house, and yet with a friend like Theon it was hard to believe that he hadn't.

"Mind your tongue brother, or perhaps mother will find out."

He looked down at the floor before looking up again a grin on his face as the wolf in his arms licked his chin, "You love me too much to go telling on me."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean that can change."

He laughed again before striding off to where Rickon sat in the dust still, playing with the jet black wolf which was sat between his legs. Tarynn watched him as he strode off, when she felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Arya.

"Tarynn, will we practice today?"

She had been teaching her little sister how to speak the general language of the Free Cities, and Arya had picked it up quite quickly. But still Tarynn did not feel like sitting down and repeating herself over and over until she got used to a word.

"Not today Arya, but maybe we'll practise tomorrow."

The look on Arya's face was forlorn, "Why don't you go ask Theon to help you with more archery?"

She felt like she had killed two birds with one stone when Arya ran off to attract Theon's attention, the Greyjoy looked up at Tarynn briefly and she thought that her suggestion hadn't work, but she gave a sigh of relief when he moved towards the targets with Arya shadowing him, and a small dark grey wolf shadowing her.

She was left alone in the yard, Sansa had moved from her haunt in the doorway. Rickon and Robb had disappeared as well, and Jon Snow was helping the stableboys with the horses. Her father too had gone to clean his sword, Ice, in the Godswood as he was often wont to do after he had executed a man for whatever crime that had been committed.

She decided that she should perhaps relish the quietness as she didn't know how long it would last, especially when it came to choosing names for the wolves, which was going to be fun as her younger siblings loved to quarrel. She looked down at the dark brown wolf that was snuggled in her arms, his blue eyes were closed to the world and his breathing was steady and calm. She hadn't the slightest inkling of what to call him, but she knew that a name was bound to spring upon her at some point. Maybe she would find some inspiration from the new tome that Maester Luwin had lent her… Tome.

She looked down at the pup again and whispered softly, "Tome."

The wolf's ears pricked up and he turned his blue eyes to her, she held his gaze and said the word again, louder. "Tome."

Tome nuzzled further into her chest, apparently he liked the name.

She set Tome on the ground, where he teetered for a few seconds before he took a few bounds forward and looked behind at her, waiting. She followed, and went pass him, into the warmth of the Castle, the newly named Tome, at her heels.