AN: Hey guys, it's me again, bringing you a new update. :D I have to tell you that this chapter practically wrote itself thanks to the beautiful song featured in it. The song is called 'The Last of the Giants' and was actually featured in the third book, 'A Storm of Swords', where it is sung by the wildlings. If you can't imagine what it would sound like when sung I recommend you listen Karliene Reynolds' version. It's a very haunting piece and it really has the feel of it being sung by wildlings so I'll leave you guys the link so you can go and check it out.
watch?v=w4cqcinpbvw&list=PLlbw4GbOw5DvV_7G2P2IdXOw7bxf8v5d2 (No spaces, just copy and paste it in your searchers)
You might see some of her other GoT songs later in the story but that don't matter right now. We also get to know when and by who was the House Manalis. Yay for that! And we get to know a little bit more about the role Ryssa's pet Aidan has. Aidan's role isn't very important in season 1 but she is going to get more important during seasons 3 & 4 so you'll not get to see a lot of her until later on.
Now, though House Manalis has a fairly long history, there aren't many notable Manalis'. To be honest, there are like 5, if you don't count Ryssa, her siblings and her father, and one of them is a woman. Yes, a woman! It too will get a little bit more explanation later in the story but I can tell you that it has something to do with the looks of both pairs of Manalis twins. If you don't remember what they look like, go back to chapter 2 and there you have the physical descriptions of all the Manalis children except for the youngest since he wasn't in that chapter.
Anyhow, hope you'll like this new update and leave me a comment in the reviews so I know if you liked it or not. If there is something you don't like, feel free to tell me (no flames, pretty please). I appreciate constructive criticism since it helps me to bring you guys more believable characters. ;)
Chapter 7Ryssa sat at her vanity brushing her scarlet hair with a dull look in her black eyes. She could hear a wolf howling somewhere within the maze that was called 'Winterfell'. The sound tugged at her heartstrings. The howl took her from her chilly room and brought her spirit to the cold woods, to the company of the pack. Bran's direwolf had been howling all night and, though the sound of wolf howling normally put her to sleep immediately, she found herself unable to get a wink of sleep that night.
She could still hardly believe that Bran had fallen off that old tower. The boy was such a great climber; he had shown Ryssa all the secrets of climbing in Winterfell, all the grabs and footholds. It was incomprehensible to her. She had barely held her tears when she had seen Lady Catelyn's reaction. Her heart broke as she imagined Alya, her own mother, reacting like that to anyone of her children getting hurt like that. She still remembered the shock that coursed through her as she saw the sight of Bran's crushed legs. It was then that she knew that, if he survived his wounds, the boy would never walk again and it broke her heart even more.
Ryssa had spent half the night pondering on what she could do to help her hosts with dealing with this pain but nothing fell to her mind. What did she know of their pain, she had no children so she knew nothing of how Lady Catelyn felt right now.
Sighing, she tied her hair back in a simple fish plait, which she tied with a black silk ribbon, and applied a slightly larger amount of kohl around her eyes than normal before putting on a simple high necked black dress of winter silk with sleeves that flared out from her elbows and slits that run up her skirt all the way to her hips, brown leather breeches and black knee high boots. Like most of the castle, she too was in the state of mourning and showed it with her makeup and the choice of her wardrobe. Though this dress was not the true mourning dress women in her family wore it was still the same colour as that particular one.
Ryssa opened her window to let Aidan out before exiting her room and going to the Guest House to break her fast. She had been invited to eat with the Queen and while she did not particularly like the woman or her eldest son she had decided to join them out of sheer courtesy.
Her footsteps were quiet on the stone floors as she made her way down the halls. The castle seemed deserted and cold ever since Bran fell. Taking a deep calming breath, Ryssa entered the Guest House and stopped before the Queen before falling into a deep curtsey. "Your Graces, my Lords," she said in a clear voice. The Queen sat surrounded by her golden haired children and her brothers. The Queen motioned for her to stand up and she did, looking the woman straight into her cold emerald eyes. "You summoned me?"
"Yes," the Queen said with a smile that did not reach her eyes or her voice. "Come, sit and join us in our meal," she motioned for Ryssa to sit opposite to her, between her brothers.
Ryssa nodded and a servant approached her. "Bread, some eggs and bacon. Oh, and some water, please," she said to the servant who gave her a small smile and rushed to bring her food after bowing to her. Sitting at the table she took in the sight of the Queen and her brother, the Kingslayer. Twins, male and female. She had never seen something like that. Her brothers and sisters were identical twins and were like mirror images of one another. The Queen and the Kingslayer looked very much the part today. Both had chosen a deep green that matched their Lannister green eyes.
"So, my dear," the Queen started. "What is your name?" The question came the moment Ryssa fully sat down on the bench.
"It's Ryssa, your Grace." Just then, the servant came back from the kitchens with her food and placed it before Ryssa. "Thank you," she told the old man with a small smile to what he simply nodded and went back to his duties.
"And tell me, Ryssa, how old are you?"
The question took Ryssa by surprise but she politely answered it, nonetheless. "I'm seventeen, your Grace."
A sly smile spread on the Queen's beautiful face. "Really now? Seventeen? And do you have a betrothed or a suitor? A girl as pretty as you must have men falling on her every whim."
Ryssa shook her head. "No, your Grace, I don't. I have no betrothed od sweetheart. I have no interest in marriage."
The Queen seemed like she was going to say more but was interrupted by her youngest, Prince Tommen. "Do you have any news of Bran, Uncle?" he asked Tyrion who was sat at Ryssa's left, the Kingslayer to her right.
"I stopped by the sickroom last night," Tyrion announced. "There was no change. The maester thought that a hopeful sign."
"I don't want Brandon to die," Tommen said timorously. He was such a sweet boy and his words brought a small gentle smile on Ryssa's face as she looked at the young boy. He was about the same age as Baessrad and reminded her much of her young brother with his chubby cheeks. Tommen was nothing like his older brother and Ryssa found that to be a good thing.
"Lord Eddard had a brother named Brandon," Jaime mused. "One of the hostages murdered by the Targaryan. It seems to be an unlucky name."
"Oh, not so unlucky as all that, surely," Tyrion said. The servant brought his plate and he ripped a piece of his black bread. The servant also put some bread in front of Ryssa as well as her water. She nodded her thanks to the servant.
The Queen studied her smaller brother. "What do you mean?"
Tyrion gave his sister a crooked smile. "Only that Tommen may get his wish. The maester thinks the boy may yet live." He took a sip of his beer as Ryssa took a sip of her water to hide the smile that had etched itself onto her face at the little lord's words.
Myrcella gave a happy gasp, and Tommen smiled nervously, but Ryssa's dark eyes were trained on the Queen. There was something odd about her demeanour concerning Bran. The glance that passed between the Queen and the Kingslayer lasted no more than a second, but it was long enough for Ryssa to spot it. Then the Queen dropped her gaze to her plate. "That is no mercy. These northern gods are cruel to let the child linger in such pain."
"But he is not in pain, your Grace," Ryssa spoke up. "The maester said that the fall had broken his back and shattered his legs. With such injuries, he should be feeling nothing bellow his waist and, if he should wake, he would never walk again." Small tears filled her eyes as she spoke but she let them not be seen. Ryssa Manalis never cries, she reminded herself. It was hard for her to speak about Bran at this moment but she did for she felt she had to defend her religion. She would let no one talk badly of the Old Gods, they had watched over her and her family since Adndan Snow was awarded the tittle of 'Lord' and became the first 'Lord Manalis' almost seven hundred years ago.
"And what were the maester's words about the boy's survival?" the Kingslayer directed his question at his brother who took a bite of his bacon and chewed it for a few seconds in thought before replying.
"He thinks that if the boy were going to die, he would have done so already. It has been four days with no change."
Had it truly been only that long? Ryssa wondered. It felt like Bran had fallen ages ago and not oly four short days prior.
"Will Bran get better, Uncle?" Princess Myrcella asked. The soft-spoken girl had all her mother's beauty, it seemed, and none of the coldness in her heart that practically oozed from the Queen's cold green eyes.
"Like Lady Ryssa said, little one, his back is broken and his legs are shattered from the fall," Tyrion explained to her. "They keep him alive with honey and water, or he would starve to death. Perhaps, if he wakes, he will be able to eat real food, but he will never walk again."
If he wakes," Cersei repeated. "Is that likely?"
"The gods alone know," Tyrion told her. "The maester only hopes." He chewed some more bread. "I would swear that wolf of his is keeping the boy alive. The creature is outside his window day and night, howling. Every time they chase it away, it returns. The maester said they closed the window once, to shut out the noise, and Bran seemed to weaken. When they opened it again, his heart beat stronger."
The Queen shuddered at the mention of Bran's direwolf, the little ochre furred pup still nameless. "There is something unnatural about those animals," she said. "They are dangerous. I will not have any of them coming South with us."
Jaime said, "You'll have a hard time stopping them, sister. They follow those girls everywhere."
Ryssa nodded at the golden haired man's words. "It is true, your Grace. Direwolves are very fond of their masters and extremely loyal."
The Queen gave her an assessing look as she sipped from her goblet. "And how would you know so much about those beasts?" The tone she used may have been laced in sugar but the words were like poison.
"There is a pack in the Godswood near Forgehammer," she started. "I practically grew up with them, your Grace, and during my time there they never did anything to intentionally hurt me. More so, one of the direwolf pups I saw being brought into this world saved my life when I had gotten lost north of the Wall. The pack saved our heard of horses from a wild wolf pack. They are gentle animals, your Grace, and would never attack unless they felt threatened or that their master is being threatened."
"And tell me," Jaime said with a look of interest on his face. "How big do they grow?" Ryssa could see him send a small pointed look at his sister, as if telling her to pay close attention to what Ryssa just said.
"Some grow bigger, some grow smaller. But they usually grow to the size of a horse. After all, the legends say that the Winter Kings used to ride them into battle," she said with a small shrug like it did not really matter and was a common known thing.
"Hm, I hear that you Manalis' have beautiful singing voices," said the Queen. "Is that, by any chance, true?"
"I would not say that I, myself, have a beautiful voice. But my mother and my sisters truly do have some of the most beautiful ones I have ever had the opportunity to hear." She looked down to her plate and took a small bite of her eggs and bacon before washing it all down with water. She still had about a quarter of the original amount on her plate.
"And why would you say that?" the Queen insisted.
Ryssa bit her lower lip. "My voice is too raspy to be considered beautiful. Unique, maybe, but not beautiful."
"Would you sing for us, now?" said Myrcella.
The Queen accepted. "Yes, that way we, ourselves, can see if you truly have a beautiful voice."
"Alright then. But I must warn you that with all that has happened, I do not have it in me to sing a happy song, so if you would forgive me for that I shall commence." The Queen waved for her to begin and so she did.
'Oh, I am the last of the giants, my people are gone from the earth.
The last of the great mountain giants, who ruled all the world at my birth.
Oh, the smallfolk have stolen my forests, they've stolen my rivers and hills...
And they've built a great wall through my valleys, and fished all the fish from my rills.
In stone halls they burn their great fires, in stone halls they forge their sharp spears.
Whilst I walk alone in the mountains, with no true companion but tears.
They hunt me with dogs in the daylight, they hunt me with torches by night.
For these men who are small can never stand tall, whilst giants still walk in the light.
Oh, I am the last of the giants, so learn well the words of my song.
For when I am gone the singing will fade, and the silence shall last long and long.'
...
Ryssa was making her way to the library in search for maester Luwin with haste. She had remembered something that might help in waking Bran up. The poor had still not woken up and it killed Ryssa inside, every time she passed the door to his room and saw Lady Catelyn sitting at her son's bedside. Finally, after almost the entire day of search for the grey man, she found him hunched over a book of herbs.
"Maester Luwin?" she called to the old man. He looked up from his reading to her and smiled.
"Ah,Ryssa, what brings you to me, child?" he asked in a gentle voice.
"I believe I have some information that could help wake Bran up," she said.
The maester's eyes grew to the size of plates. "You do?" She nodded. "Well, what is it, child?"
"I remember reading about different potions in the library when I was little," she started. "In one of the passages I found a text describing a powerful healing potion that was said to bring men back from the brink of death. The only problem was getting this potion." The measter nodded for her to continue. "The potion, itself, was called 'Tears of Fire' or 'Drops of Sun' in other places and the main ingredient of this potion was Phoenix tears. The tears, themselves, are extremely powerful and can heal deep wounds and neutralize almost all poisons known to man, but, when mixed with the other ingredients needed their potency becomes stronger and they are able to heal just about anything."
"That is splendid, my dear," maester Luwin told her. "But we only have one little problem; where are we going to get Phoenix tears from?"
Ryssa smiled and pulled a small vial filled with thick golden fluid. "Already one step ahead of you, maester Luwin. You see, my father sent me an egg when my siblings came to visit not so long ago and it hatched. The egg contained a baby Phoenix, Aidan. Phoenixes grow very quickly and right now, she is in her adolescent age where her tears are strong but not as powerful as they would be were she completely grown up. Since we don't have much time on our hands, I had managed to get her to fill this vial for me. As I am leaving for King's Landing, this will be the only amount of tears I can give you, so be careful with them. Mix one drop with the honey you give Bran every day and it should help him wake up," she hurriedly said before thrusting the vial in the old man's hands and wordlessly running back to her room to finish packing.
...
Aidan was perched and waiting for her at the foot of her bed. The flame coloured bird's intelligent eyes the colour of molten gold felt like they were looking straight into her soul. By now, Aidan was as big as an eagle and could no longer sit perched on Ryssa's shoulder despite still weighing no more than a feather. She was simply too big.
Ryssa was greeted with one of Aidan's melodious coos as she re-entered her room, her dresses still spread all over her bed.
The problem was in finding clothes that were light enough so she would not get to hot from the heat of the South and 'melt'. Almost all her dresses were made to withstand the biting cold of the North and Ryssa was certain that she would be cooking in them by the time they came to the Neck.
Sighing to herself, she decided to pack the lightest northern dresses she had and even found some that would probably earn her some looks in the capitol. Those were the only dresses she was certain not to die out of heat in. She packed some light shirts and breeches as well as her black flats and her hunting boots. Ryssa even packed some leather clothing that she had hastily made herself. It was amazing that all her belongings would fit in one small trunk. Everything she would possibly need immediately would be packed in her saddle bags and the ever-present bedroll would be securely strapped to Wynter's saddle.
There was no way on this Earth that she would get stuffed in a small wheel house with the Queen and her children. Props to them for making it through the month-long ride in that stuffy thing but Ryssa would rather run in the Haunted Forest completely naked than sit in there. She would be riding with the men and that was final. She would not let anyone tell her what to do. If they did, she would apologise to Lord Stark and ride back to Winterfell.