The women stared at me with a ferocious intensity that made me unconsciously take a step back, away from Sandor's soft hold. Her small belongings dropped to the ground, followed by her knees giving in unto the dirt. But her face…

I did not remember where I had seen it. But there was a familiarity to her kind features and wrinkled cheeks that sent a shiver through my back likes the wind from the North.

"My Lady….It….It really is you…You are alive!", she proclaimed, as her mouth met my hands swiftly, kissing my skin with severe faithfulness. I still could not recognize her face. But her scent swept me into a bizarre nostalgia as I could remember the old Hall at Winterfell.

All the ancient lanterns were lighted, along with the grand chandelier lighted like the sun among the men and women of the court. I could remember every detail, although it had been so many years away from happiness, from comfort. My siblings smiled among their great plates of their favorite meals, all sparkling with herbs and spices. Mother and Father were keeping their most serious facades, occasionally bursting into grins.

And on my plate, a beautiful embellished silver platter, laid three lemon cakes, glossed with yellow sugar icing with a single blackberry on each top. The happiness in my stomach could not be explained.

And among the dancing ladies and lords, among the knights in armor, and among the kind peasants, a familiar face was spotted.

Kind features and wrinkled cheeks.

And the woman at my feet was not really a stranger. Her cakes had built my childhood. And now she was at my feet.

I did not know her name, but I hugged her as hard as I could. She smelt of home.

It was not too soon after that I sat her down on the wooden table, calmed her down as much I could, as she cried tears of happiness. I could not help but cry as I could see the lemon cakes, crumbled in her arms. It was not too long until I found out her name. Aerisa worked for thirteen years at Winterfell, responsible for all the baked goods served.

"Fredric had told me of the rumor, that you were safe, that you were free…But I could not believe it until I saw you, My Lady!", she smiled her crooked, beautiful smile.

"Well, I had to make sure it was safe for you to see her. There are ears everywhere, as little as this town is, I hear", Fredric warned. Confusion hit me.

"Sir, when…how did you know…?" I asked as I tried putting the pieces together.

"Oh child, Winterfell is my second home. I was herding the fields while Robb was born. I remember those new cries of new life. And soon, you came along. Oh yes I recognized you in the Weirwood, I did."

They were not my true family but I had not felt so welcomed in years. I did not remember Fredric, but I knew he was there, in my past. His loyalty was enough for my heart to trust.

Sandor had been silent the entire time, standing near the stone kitchen. As I smile up at him, Aerisa seemed to notice our gazing.

"Ah yes, your Uncle...correct?" she beamed mischievously. At this Fredric began to chuckle as my cheeks turned scarlet. I explained Sandor's true identity, but it seemed they knew the truth already.

It was dark, near midnight, when the conversation finally died. We talked endlessly about my home, the laughs and the miseries, and that "damn" wind, as Fredric recalled. Sandor did not say many words; I knew he was letting me enjoy this moment.

I constantly reminded myself they were not my mother and father, yet my heart fought against me.

Soon, Aerisa guided Fredric to his bed. She departed from the house, promising to visit again tomorrow. Bowing to me at the doorstep and putting the bag filled with small lemon cakes in my hand, she smiled and walked home in the small light of the moon.

Sandor had fallen asleep on the dirt floor, his small snores echoing in the guest room. The crescent moon seemed to dip into the lake; I could hear a faint owl in the tree nearby my window.

My sleep drifted between peace and war. Happiness and sadness. But there were just dreams. The loud thud resounding in my ears told me differently.

Strong hands shook me awake.

"Little Bird…Little Bird, wake up!" he whispered violently. By the look in his eyes and the beads of sweat on his brow, I knew something was terribly wrong. My thin nightshift clinged to my skin as Sandor pushed me near the window behind him.

"What is ha-", I started to ask but Sandor focused on the noises outside of our wooden room. The door of the room was half closed, giving us a small view of the living space; the noises seemed to reach us in seconds. It was Fredric at the main door, conversing, no pleading?

"It is late, ya hear? There is no one here, so leave an old man be!" he screamed. A younger armored man stood at the door, annoyed at the old man and his stubbornness.

"Stand back, you old bastard! For gods sak-"

But he was not there no longer. His body had been pushed aside by an even larger being. All I could see was armor as dark as coal, hair mangled around his face, and a body twice as large as Sandors. Its shadow covered the light of the faint moon, reigning darkness on Fredric's frail body. I could see his body begin to shake.

I did not have time to scream as the immense sword swiftly ran through Fredric's ribcage, piercing the old man to his knees. The ruby blood trailed down to the demons feet as a small grin appeared on its hideous face.

Seconds passed as Sandor grabbed me into his arms and jumped out of the stone window, falling to the cold ground. His speed increased as my heartbeat seemed to stop in my chest. I covered my mouth as I suppressed a cry.

Gregor Clegane's face would never escape my mind.