he next morning, I woke up smiling. Robb was up, and gave me a quick kiss before going to his duties. I stretched before taking a nice bath, soaking myself in water.
I brought out a light green dress, and my handmaiden connected two small braids at the back of my head.
I watched as Rickon was chased by three direwolves, laughing all the way. I put a hand on my stomach, and imagined Robb and I's children playing games in this courtyard, their laughter ringing. I smiled at the thought.
"They really do call you Princess of Summer, ya know." I turned to see Theon. "I know you're with child." I nod. "I hope you name it Theon if it's a boy." He says. I laugh lightly, "If it's a girl, Lyanna. For a boy, Josef."
He asked, "Does Robb have a say in the matter?" I shook my head, "Men never do." Theon laughed at that, and walked away.
Only a few moments later, a servant came to bring me to the main room. I seas seated next to Robb, who's face was cold and hard. He wore this face when he was doing his lordly duties. I tried not to look surprised at Robb's sword on his lap, or at re presence of my uncle Tyrion.
Bran came, carried by the large oaf Hodor. "Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome here at Winterfell for as long as he wishes to stay." Robb's voice was harsh. I put a hand on his shoulder. Did they figure out that it was the Lannisters that pushed Bran? Even if they did, would Robb tell me?
No matter what the Starks knew, Robb shrugged off my hand.
"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not me, do I take your meaning, boy?" Tyrion said. I gave him a warning look. Robb stood up abruptly, and pointed his sword at my uncle. I dare not say a word. "I am the lord here while my mother and father are away, Lannister. I am not your boy."
I was proud of Robb in that moment, no matter how much I loved my uncle. "If you are a lord, you might learn a lord's courtesy. Your bastard brother has all your father's graces, it would seem."
Did Tyrion know what game he was playing at? Of course he did. He could play this game of politics better than a bard with a lute.
"Jon," I remembered Bran's presence. "So it is true," I kept my eyes on Tyrion. "The boy lives. I could scarce believe it. You Starks are hard to kill." Robb lowered his sword, "You Lannisters had best remember that. Hodor, bring my brother here."
Hodor repeated his name, and sat down Bran on the other side of Robb. "You said you had business with Bran. Well, here he is Lannister." Bran was obviously uncomfortable with Tyrion.
"I am told you are quite the climber, Bran. Tell me, how is it you happened to fall that day?" Tyrion finally said. "I never," Bran spat out. "The child does not remember anything of the fall, or the climb that came before it." Maester Luwin added.
Tyrion then went on to tell them and show them of plans of a saddle that would make Bran able to ride a horse.
Rickon came bursting in with the wolves. They growled at Tyrion, and he took it as his cue to leave. When he tried to move, they pounced on him. I strangled cry came out of my mouth, but they were called off soon.
"The wolves... I don't know why they did that..." Robb said. "No doubt they mistook me for dinner. I thank you for calling them off, young ser. I promise you, they would have found me quite indigestible. And now I will be leaving, truly." Tyrion said.
I leaned over and whispered to Robb, "Please, this is my uncle. Let me talk to him for a while. He nodded and put away his sword. "I may have been hasty with you. You've done Bran a great kindness, and my wife would like to catch up with you. You may stay at Winterfell."
"I would love to talk to my niece, but I believe that we would both sleep easier if I stayed in an inn." Tyrion compromised.
I walked down to him, and led my uncle outside. "The North suits you, Annablyth." Tyrion said after we were outside. "I suppose. I'm with child, you should know."
"I could tell, Annablyth. Barely noticeable, but still visible." I look down. "Oh my goodness!" I cradle the tiny bump. My face feels as thought it is about to split, as my smile is so large. "It's going to be a Josef or a Lyanna."
Tyrion laughs. "You really think your mother will like Lyanna?" I shrug. "Even her fury can't make it up here."
"Have you told your family?" He asks. I shake my head. "I'll write a letter, give to Yoren, and you can deliver it." Tyrion smiles. "Goodbye Annablyth, lady of Winterfell." He waddled off.
"Princess of Summer," I whisper to my unborn child, "Lady of Winter."