You guys are awesome! I just wanted to say that I am so happy with the response that my last chapter got. You guys were amazing when it came to the reviews. As a self-proclaimed, greedy author, I can assure you that the long reviews were so appreciated. They're honestly the reason that I got this chapter out so quick. Thank you and let me know what you think about this chapter.
Chapter Seven: The River Runners
"Father, please!" Trysta sobbed, clutching her dress to her as she was shoved forward to her knees before the raised dais that my father was positioned upon. I blinked, watching a shiver run through my mother before she stilled herself. My brows furrowed as I clutched at Corlin's hand. She didn't look like my mother anymore. She looked cold and distant.
"What's happening to Trysta?" I whispered, choking as my sister gave another sob, the tattered remains of her dress sliding down her shoulders to reveal the globes of her breasts.
"She-" Walda squeezed her eyes shut as Trysta's husband stepped forward, his boots ringing along the hall as he made his way toward our father. Her bottom lip quivered. "She did something bad, Willa. She - she - her husband-"
Walda stuttered off into silence as the handsome silliouhette of Lord Drox finally reached his wife. They had been happy last night, I thought in confusion desperately searching my memory. Before we had been asked to leave the wedding dinner, they had been laughing together, dancing to a fiddler that had come with Lord Drox's company. He had tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled down at her with a twinkle in his striking green eyes.
"She married a man," my sister, Bredgit said darkly, her eyes striking as she stood still as a statue. "That's what she did."
Father was holding something white in his hands, his smile crooked and rotten as he stared at Lord Drox and his second oldest daughter who had crumpled in on herself, her finger searching out her husbands. White-knuckled, she curled her fingers around one of his, reminding me of a babe clutching her mother's hand.
"Did you enjoy my daughter, Lord Drox?" Something flickered along the young lord's face before it became stony.
"Father, please-" Trysta sobbed, her beautiful face swollen and red as she appealed before our father. My eyes ran over the red marks scratched along her back and the leering way that our guards eyed her. I had heard the fabric tear as they had hauled her into the Great Hall. "Please! We were just - leaving. We were going to-"
Without looking at Trysta, father raised the crumpled white fabric to his nose and took a long breath, sneering before hurling it at the feet of Lord Drox. Wincing, I watched it flutter through the air, the fabric unbunching to reveal that ugly, red stain.
"RED INK!" He shrieked and my brother and I clutched at each other as the rafters rang with it. I remember thinking that the very ceiling would cave in on us at my father's rage. I was young enough to still believe that he was that powerful. His face contorted into an ugly sneer. "DO YOU THINK ME AN IDIOT? Did you believe that I would let you leave with such an insult?"
His words were met with a moment of silence, even Trysta's sobs subsiding. I supposed that she couldn't release a breath as Lord Drox yanked his hand from her grip, his face impassive as he stared down at the white shift.
"She's your offspring," he said with a shrug. "I thought to not offend the lady but since you have debunked the rouse…" He gave a shrug, ignoring Trysta as she gave a wail.
"Father!" She sobbed, leaning forward as her face twisted in a plea. "We didn't - He came to me the night before." A new wash of tears rolled down her face. "We were going to be married. I thought-"
Our father let out a disgusted scoff, waving a hand as she was reduced to silent tears. "You are absolutely useless to me now," he snarled, looking like a hound dog that had been poked from a restful slumber. Lord Drox stood cooly beside my fallen sister, looking unruffled by the turn of events. Keen eyes turned on the lord. "What do you want?"
An odd glint entered Lord Drox's eyes. "Another wife, obviously. This one is defiled."
Defiled? I had learned that word from the Sept just days before. She had pointed to two pigs rutting in the mud, her eyes deceptively blank of emotions. Defiled, she had said with a sigh.
A harsh snort whooshed from my father. "And what - would you suggest - I do with the one that you already deflowered?"
Walda and Bredgit looked sick, their faces going pale. Was that all we were? Property to be throw away at the first sign of damage? I felt like throwing up, my mind flashing to the pig as it had finished it's ugly business, snorting and frothing. And the gilt as she sat mutely beneath him, staring wildly off into the distance. Bile rose in my throat, thinking of dear, sweet Trysta being used like that animal and then thrown away to accept a fate that had been far away just the day before. Trysta who had sung me to sleep. Trysta who had flicked my nose when I was but a babe, trying desperately to get me to giggle.
"I'll take her too," Lord Drox offered, his face that of a man who was taking great sacrifice upon himself. And my father - the one who my mother touched and kissed and spoke softly to - it looked like he was amused. As Trysta crumpled further in on herself, looking pale and blind.
For a moment, my father was silent, his brows lowering as he actually seemed to consider the lord's offer. Finally with a grunt, he motioned towards the corner that I stood in, huddled with the rest of my sisters. "My other daughter, Bredgit is very fair," he said, looking somehow like he was suddenly bored by the whole situation. My stomach turned sickly.
"I would prefer the small one, actually," Lord Drox stated, his eyes luminous as they met mine. Against me, I felt my brother's chest roll with a growl, his arms tightening around me. "Willa was her name, I believe."
Fear clogged my throat as I let out a whimper. No. No. I couldn't go with this man.
"She hasn't bled yet." Trysta paled, shaking as she stared up at that man who she had wed herself to the night before. She had looked happier in that moment than she had in all of her fifteen years and in the night when we had gathered in her chambers to speak to our God, she had been smiling, talking quietly with Bredgit about all the many children she would have. How they would speak softly like he did.
Bredgit's face had gone blank, her lips thinning as she pushed me deeper into the sea of my sisters. "She would hardly be satisfying for a man like yourself, My Lord."
"I would like to decide myself," he said, his eyes still searching for me in the crowd of skirts.
"You have decided enough, you impotent welp," my father snarled, sudden venom making him looking fiercer than his slender frame warranted. "You will take Bridget and Trysta or you will take your ruined reputation. Choose."
A sniff was the only reply Lord Drox gave before he was sweeping away, stepping around Trysta like she was a broken animal, whining at him. I didn't move as Bregit stepped forward, murmuring softly to her sister as she pulled her torn dress higher over her shoulders and helped her up.
I didn't see them again. Later, I would hear that Bredgit had died a year later from childbirth and that Lord Drox had sold Trysta to a whorehouse in King's Landing.
"Willa." I was dreaming about a meadow - a lake filled with starlight and a man with dark curls whose face I could never glimpse. He was telling me to join him in the water, laughing as I refused, claiming that it would swallow me whole. "Willa."
Something warm and rough touched my cheek, grazing down my neck to cup my shoulder and squeeze. Something earthy and sharp like the smell of the forges and forest reached my nose as I gave a small sigh. I wanted to keep dreaming. It was nice here and the man was comforting. I was almost there, he had lulled me forward to the water's edge.
"I wasn't under the impression that my new Queen liked to sleep in." I groaned, the words moving along my shoulder like - Candlelight burned my eyes as I jerked away. Robb Stark. Robb Stark with his lips on my shoulder. I squeaked, whipping my head around as I caught the dark, humor in his gaze, his lips touching my skin softly as errant curls fell into his eyes.
"By the Gods," I squealed, scurrying away from him desperately as I caught sight of his bare chest. "You're naked."
His eyes had gone that stormy gray, straying to my breasts as his lips curled up. "You're naked," he rumbled out blandly and I yelped, face burning as I realized that my breasts were on full display. Panicking, I yanked the sheets to my chest. This was utterly humiliating. Even though… last night we had…
Legs shaking, I stepped from the bed, stuttering out incoherent sentences as I realized too late that I was pulling the sheets with me. And oh by the Seven, I could see his - "Oh my - You're naked. You need um -" I shut my eyes, turning away to face the fire. Was I an imbecile? Right now, with my thoughts running in every direction in open panic, I felt like one. Robb Stark was a sculpture. He had a body that was born in battle, his chest easily muscled and a sure, cocky tilt to his jaw as his eyes glittered wickedly in the fire's light.
He was beautiful and the bastard knew it.
"Now I can just see your ass." I let out a shriek, jerking the sheets around my shoulders. This was absolutely pathetic. Standing here, legs and nether regions aching painfully from yesterday's… exercises, I realized that I was the most hopeless, unimpressive bride that there had ever been. I had never woken up beside another human being besides my brother. Much less a very naked one with stormy eyes and a devilish smile. This was not how a dignified bride would act. This was not the kind of woman that the King of the North would keep.
So hefting the sheets higher, I straightened my back and tried to look as regal as I could as I swiveled toward the form of my husband. Who was still sprawled across the mattress like he was fully clothed, his eyes dark with amusement.
"You woke me, Your Grace?" I said, ignoring the curling of his lips as I tried to keep my eyes from wandering down the trail of hair that led… I gulped, staring hard at that hard nose of his.
"Have you slept very well, Lady Stark?" There was a bland familiarity there that made me painfully aware of the stiffness that was in my own words as well as a shock at his tossing around of my new title.
"Yes," I replied stiffly, setting my jaw.
A deep sigh was all I got as Robb rolled from the bed and I got a rather impressive glimpse of his backside before I was staring at the fireplace intently. Damn this man. Was his whole entire body a work of art? Did he have no flaws? Beside him I felt frail, breakable in the disgusting way that malnourished animals on the streets were.
"Must we leave soon?" I forced out, watching as he pulled on the trousers from the night before, combing a hand through the ruffled mess of his curls.
"Yes," he replied shortly, glancing briefly towards me as he collected all the articles of clothing that had been tossed aside the night before. He didn't seem at all pleased with what he saw. "Winterfell, I'm afraid to inform you, is an absolute disaster. I have sent men to oversee the reconstruction of the main buildings but I'm anxious to be there myself."
I eyed him carefully. Now that he was fully dressed it was easier to think. And much easier to meet his eyes. Delicately, I sat on one of the seats near the fire, keeping a keen eye on him as he continued to move about. There wasn't a screen that I could change behind so I would have to wait until he left.
Pursing my lips, I picked idly at the strings of the covers wrapped so tightly around me, trying to word my next question. "I know that men…" My brows furrowed. That didn't sound right. Would it be best to get this out of the way right now? Couldn't I just leave it for… never? I closed my eyes for a moment before I was forcing a bright smile. "As long as I sire you a child, you need not feel obligated to…" I didn't want to finish that sentence.
The silence was thunderous.
"Speak plainly to me, Willa." He was standing right in front of me so quickly that I jolted back nervously.
"You can take another lover," I blurted out, wincing at the bluntness there as his eyes narrowed dangerously, his big body caging me in on all sides as he leaned closer. He looked mad. My heart fluttered as his eyes bore into mine, looking similar to rain clouds spiked through with lightning. I was not doing a good job at being a wife. My face felt like it was on fire. "Or - or continue on… with um, with the ones that you… have?"
A low rumble filled the space around me and I stuttered off into silence as I realized that it was coming from the man in front of me.
"Do you think so lowly of me?" The words were quiet, spoken like the beginning rumble before the downpour. I became painfully aware of the fact that I was in a sheet and that he was fully dressed. And he was so close, his breath blowing hotly across my lips. It was crazy… My eyes wandered to the firm set of his lips, a momentary madness taking over. I wanted him to kiss me, I realized dumbly. "I take my duties very seriously, My Lady."
"Oh, I've heard how seriously you take them," I whispered back, a spark of fight igniting in me. I met his gaze head on, frowning. "That is why you did so well last night."
Brief pain flashed through his eyes before he was snarling, snapping like a vicious dog. "Last night was in no way a demonstration of what it would be like bedding you, Willa." I blinked, shock jolting through me as his eyes darkened further. "That, sweetness, was all you. And I'm ashamed to admit that I went along with it. But the next time I take you to bed, Willa, you will beg me for it."
Anger and embarrassment reddened my cheeks as I gasped, staring up at him as he gave me a wicked smile, his lips coming dangerously close to mine.
"I don't beg," I hissed.
"You've never been with me," he whispered and suddenly his lips were capturing mine, his hands tangled in the mess of my ruined braid, dried flowers falling to the floor around me. The press of his lips against mine was intoxicating and a part of me went a little bit crazy as he bit down on my bottom lips, thrusting his tongue against mine as I gasped at the pain.
Without thinking, my hands had unclenched from the sheets, choosing instead to curl into his shirt as his free hand hauled me closer. It felt like he wanted to devour me. It felt a lot like I wanted him to.
"Tell me what I would do with a lover, Willa," he whispered against my lips as I panted, clutching at him. The rough calluses of his hand tickled against my skin as he drew a hand down my spine, curving around me until he was all I could see and feel. His lips captured mine again, soft and fleeting. "Would I go to another woman for this?"
"I don't-" I squealed as he hauled me into his arms, sheets tangling around my feet as he clutched me to his chest. Heat rolled over me as I stared up at him, a wicked glint in his eyes as he dragged a hand along my newly bared sides. Something hot and sizzling tingled along my spine, jolting through my gut as I tipped onto my toes. He was so tall and holding me so close that it was the only way I could keep my balance since he wasn't allowing a single inch of space. My breasts scraped along the rough material of his shirt, my skin tingling as my whole front curved into his. I was drowning.
There was a wicked smirk on his face that was filled with darker intentions and secrets and not a bit of sweetness.
"Would you like me to find another woman?" he whispered, his nose bumping into mine. My head spun, an irrational possessiveness filling me at the thought. Idly, a thumb dragged light circles along my backside before squeezing down and sending me jerking into him with a yelp. Murmuring a soft apology, he kissed me gently, his lips catching on mine. "Do you?"
"No." It was said before I could even think. What was going on? My brows furrowed as I struggled to swim upstream.
He was making a fool of me. He was yanking admissions from me that he had no right to.
Anger seized me and I yanked myself away from him, growling like a riled puppy as I yanked the sheets back around me. And of course there was Robb Stark, chuckling to himself as he watched me like some massive, big bull of a predator. I seethed, glaring furiously at him through the tangle of hair that had fallen in my face. I probably looked like some dumb bird that had just fallen from its tree, a ploom of wild feathers sitting ruffled atop it's head.
"We may be married and that may mean that I am now yours to bed whenever it pleases you-" His smile vanished, an ominous glint entering his eyes as I fumbled onward. "But I refuse to be yanked about like some dumb doll for your amusement."
For a moment, he seemed to ponder that, his eyes thoughtful as they ran over me. Those eyes were too keen for me to feel comfortable. They saw too much. Under them, I shifted uncomfortable, trying to ignore the way that my hair was sticking about and the swollen feeling of my lips. I probably looked like a disaster.
Quietly, he walked toward me, his movements slow as if he knew that anything sudden would send me running. Finally, he was leaning over me. "You're right. Being married give me no reason to try and rile you so." His lips met mine softly, his grey eyes snapping hotly as they met mine as he spoke again. "I do it because I enjoy the way that you look when you get so flustered that you can't even remember your name."
I resisted the urge to shriek and throw things as he pulled away, sauntering to the vanity where his sword and cloak lay.
"We will leave when the horses are ready and your father…" His lips twisted as he reached the door. "Releases us."
His hand was on the knob. And I was still mad and flustered and I just wanted to-
"Why me?" What?
"What?" He turned to me, eyes wide.
When had that come up? Why had I asked that? I didn't care about that. I didn't particularly think that it had anything other than the relatively lasting impression that I had left in the Great Hall. It wasn't in my best interest to know why he had picked me out of so many other sisters who were nicer, prettier and had less of an attitude issue.
But now I had to soldier on. "Why did you pick me?"
For a moment, his eyes shadowed and his jaw tightened. A thrill of excitement kicked through me at the sudden silence. It felt a lot like I had the upper hand. And it was actually exhilarating. Briefly, his eyes drifted to the door before he was running an agitated hand through his hair.
He looked like he was about to admit something that he didn't particularly want to. But then something changed and his stance closed off farther.
"You're a very attractive woman, Willa," Robb said softly, his eyes lowering. "Not only did you receive the blessing of my mother but you showed yourself to… The North is a cold place, Willa."
"We have furs," I stated blandly earning me an exasperated stare from my husband. "And fires."
"You have to be strong there," he said grimly and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The Twins had not always been prosperous. The winters were harsh and the crops were hard to keep so close to the river. We relied mainly on trade. Which had not always be plentiful.
"My sisters are strong," I replied.
"No," he whispered, his eyes holding a cold sort of certainty. "I can assure you that they would not survive in Winterfell."
It felt like I was a child being told things by adults again. And it was more than a little bit infuriating.
"You're an ass," I snarled, huffing off to the vanity and plopping down in the seat.
"And you are an absolute delight," he said with a sickening amount of sweetness in his words as he opened the door and slipped into the halls without another word. And then I was left alone to stare into the mirror positioned at the perfect angle to accentuate the round set of my face with eyes that seemed to wide and staring. I looked like a wild little girl with a thatch of hair to match. No one would take me seriously.
"My Queen?" The maids had arrived.
I was wrong, I realized belatedly staring at the white billow of material as the servants in the Great Hall spread it out to reveal the ugly stain of red. Which was a lot bigger than I had originally thought. They had taken the sheets instead of my nightgown. I had known that this morning would be the most harrowing that I had faced. A box inside of me opened, wailing as the hall broke into roars and rowdy comments burst from the people gathered.
The heavy wood of the doors creaked as it came fully opened and the full expanse of the hall was revealed, my brothers reddened faces breaking with glee. I knew that it would be like this. They had one more opportunity to make me look weak. My eyes fluttered shut as I took a ragged breath. And now my actions would be watched by the men following Robb as well. I could not look weak.
The gentle scrape of shoes reached my ears as a few maids scuttled away behind me. I had asked them to help me waddle my way over to hall since the real act would only begin when I had gotten here. The gown that they had shoved me into was a garish thing, one with so many skirts of gossamer and silk that every time I took a step it felt like I was dragging chains. Gold swirled through the pearly white material, growing into a wave of pure metal that cupped my breasts.
My eyes blazed a luminous amber beneath a pile of coal that made my eyes burn every time I blinked and my hair had been oiled into a submissive wave of curls that had turned a deep brown with hints of gold in the mix.
The hall went quiet as they caught sight of me, standing atop the few steps that lowered into the dining area before topping off again at the dias. And I caught the barely perceptible tilt of Robb's lips as he sat at the main dias besides my father, an empty seat beside him. He hadn't given me a crown so I had had to supply one myself. It hit painfully at my skull, digging in until I felt the ache of it through my brain, my hair wound around the golden sphere so that it looked like a sunburst atop my head. In comparison, Robb's seemed to be made of golden thorns. I tried not to grimace at the difference.
My back ached as I took painful step after painful step, keeping everything as straight as possible. Robb's brows raised as I drew closer, a light dancing in his eyes. The white sheet had been put aside, placed next to my father who sat grimly in his chair. Honestly, I wanted to sit down in the nearest chair before I collapsed. My legs shook painfully, the activities of the night before making spurts of cramps gnaw at my thigh muscles.
But I forced myself to move slowly, not stopping when I passed my father who looked like someone had just spit on him. Biting the inside of my cheek, I resisted the urge to turn and bow to him. Eighteen years of training, bit in the back of my head.
Agonizingly slowly, I made my way to my husbands side, trying not to show my relief as I reached my seat and a servant rushed to pull it out. A whisper buzzed in small sections of the room but aside from that, the silence was deafening.
My eyes caught grey storms as I slid into place, a cocky smile gracing Robbs lips. Disgruntled, I blinked up at him, trying to settle the massive heap of my skirts around me.
"You look beautiful, My Queen," he murmured, his voice gravelly as his eyes sparkled. I blinked again, frowning at the blush I could feel burning my cheeks.
"I look ludicrous," I whispered back, my back rigid as I eyed the gathered nobility that were eyeing our table warily. "You know that this is all an act. One final stand to underline the point that I am more than the child that used to throw mud pies out the castle windows."
Slowly, Robbs hand turned over, his face shuttering into a indifferent mask. Still, I could see the glint of humor there. "My mother always did tell me that I was handsome enough to be an actor."
I leveled a glare at him before slowly sliding my hand into his much larger one and turning to the crowd with a false smile. "Yes. You do have the traits of a liar."
"A handsome liar," he conceded, flashing an arrogant smile.
Beside me, Lady Stark was chatting quietly with a very tired looking Lord Greyjoy who kept flicking a finger this way and that. Occasionally, I would catch the name of a local river or forest. They must have been talking of our route.
"QUIET!" I quilled the urge to flinch as my father stood, his goblet raised. Whenever my father was to give a toast… It always seemed to end in an insult. His beady eyes focused down on me, a leer curling his lips. "My daughter, Willa was married last night."
A roar surged through my brothers and uncles. I hadn't caught any sight of Corlin since I had arrived. I tried not to let the disappointment show.
"And by the sheets, I am under the impression that it was one of many fruitful nights!" The sentence ended in a chortle echoed across the hall. Beside me, I felt Robb tense. Still, his smile remained, his pose almost lazy. He was rather… impressive. "May my daughter give you many sons."
It was the most tame toast that my father had ever given. It almost made me suspicious.
The meal continued on and I… I felt like a third party. Like the audience looking in on a cast of players that were leading an interesting story but that I had barely any connection to. I blinked, glancing at Robb as he tipped his head to the side, his eyes meeting mine. Did he feel this way too? Unwanted, my fingers gripped down on his, seeking… comfort? And a flash of recognition sparked through those eyes.
Before I could even take a breath, it seemed, I was changing, slipping into a green gown with a corset of leather and a fur cloak. It was cold in the North, I had heard.
"The party is waiting," my maid whispered, her eyes holding a sadness that I didn't think they would.
Where was my brother? I wandered sadly, glancing fervently over my shoulder as I made my way to the gate.
"Your sisters gave me this to deliver to you," the maid whispered softly as we exited through the kitchen, stepping into the dewy morning air. The cobblestones beneath my feet were uneven as we made our way to the front entrance of the twins. I glanced to the satchel that she held a series of dried herbs packed neatly into the left side along with a series of tin jars. My brows furrowed.
"What in the world," I breathed, running a hand along the spine of a thin leather bound journal. My eyes searched out the maid. "What is this?"
Her fingers pulled at each other as she glanced nervously away.
"They said it was your mothers." This conversation obviously made her nervous. "The morning meals for your sisters will be wanted soon."
She was asking me to dismiss her. Half-heartedly, I gave her a wave, still staring down at the contents of the satchel. What an odd mix of items.
"Your Grace." My head snapped up, catching the gentle stare of Lady Stark as she made her way from the gathering of horses and men a bit away. Her smile was gentle as it always was. "We are leaving soon."
"Yes, um-" I quickly closed up the satchel, forcing a smile even through the confusion of my thoughts. "Sorry. I was-"
"You needn't explain," she assured, falling into step beside me. "I have left my home for my husband before. I know the sorrows that come from it."
I wasn't sure that the emotions rolling within me were even as simple as pure sorrow. I stared up at the imposing walls of my home, the towers suddenly seeming like looming strangers. I hated this place. And loved it in an odd, twisted way. Thinking of my brothers and sisters, my affections almost seemed ugly. It would have been easier if I only hated it here. It would have been rational.
"I…" My eyes drifted along Lady Stark's face as my mind tried to find the words. "I wanted to thank you for your kindness. You have shown me hospitality when you haven't needed to."
Her brows furrowed as she shook her head, taking my hands in hers. "No. Please. The war-" A flash of pure pain lit through her, seeming to crash so roughly over her that I thought for a moment that she might collapse under it. But then she was shaking her head. "During the war, very few… very few houses stood behind my son. We were… we were stuck in one spot for a while. The Lannister army had been able to crouch all around us. We were running out of food. And we were running out of medicine. Bandages to cover our torn flesh." Her voice had lowered to a near whisper. There was something sacred about what she was telling me. A flash of auburn hair caught the light, drawing my eyes to the powerful presence of Robb Stark. "We were going to die. I've never been so hungry in my life. And then one day - a runner comes bursting into our camp with a carriage of food. They had taken the river from the Twins, skirting around the Lannister's army by the cover of night. And with them a little note in such delicate script saying: You have a toll to pay, Young Wolf." I blinked, suddenly dizzy as Lady Stark's head tipped up, her eyes glittering with tears. "I've never seen my son laugh so hard."
I gulped, throat suddenly dry. It had been part of my duty in the running of the house to send tokens to those that might benefit from it. It was a calculated risk to send Ara and Stelsa along the river. They were the best night sailors that we had, traders who had traveled through enemy lines many times before. I had only sent five packages before I had received the word that Robb had broken the lines and moved away from my reach.
My eyes caught on the flutter of Robb's cloak as he turned, his striking eyes meeting mine as a his direwolf curled around his legs. He was… breathtaking.
"I didn't know that you…" I didn't finish that sentence. I hadn't known that they had been entrenched. Lady Stark shook her head, biting her lip as a tear dribbled free. But they remembered. "How did you know it was me?"
"When we arrived it became painfully clear." A knowing smile cleared away some of the sadness.
The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted any further conversation as a surly man with a burst of a white beard stepped forward. "We must leave now, My Lady."
He gave a deep bow to both of us as Lady Stark gave a fond smile.
There was no more talk as we swung up onto our horses and the gates of the Twins shrieked open for us. Up ahead, I saw Robb turn, caught his twinkling eyes before he was turning away. I would ride with Lady Stark for the journey.
No one came to say goodbye. I was ashamed to catch myself turning, staring longingly at the balconies freckling my home. I was ashamed at the burn of tears that choked me as the gates clattered shut behind me and my horse met the softer grass of the Riverlands. I hadn't left my home since I was a child. I had never been farther than the forest that surrounded it.
And now, sitting in the company of strangers, I felt a strange yearning. One that yawned open inside of me as I stared at the sky above me. Did Winterfell have a river that looked like fire in the evenings? Did it smell like the river in the mornings?
That strange calm settled around me again as I turned once more to gaze back at the blur of the Twins. There was no going back to my home.
There was only the wild road ahead.
Reviews = some much needed fluff