TOMMEN II

"My love, you've gotten mud all over yourself!" His mother admonished him.

"A little mud never killed anyone", his father said, as he gave him a rough scrubbing off on his boots and pants and hoisted him up on his shoulders. Tommen laughed happily.

"Thankyou", Mother said to Ardon's mother May, as they left the henhouse to go towards the castle again. His friend Ardon waved goodbye to him, and Tommen waved back.

"It's time for dinner soon", Mother said, looking up towards him where he sat on father's axel.

"No chickens", Tommen said. "I don't want to eat them. They are my friends."

"No chickens?" Father asked, with a playful tone in his voice. "What about some duck? Have you introduced yourself to them yet?"

"No... Maybe..." Tommen quieted down.

"That's all right, you don't need to eat the chickens if you don't want. But you will see one day why they are good to have around when winter comes.

When a hen grows old, it can no longer lay many eggs, and be of use anymore. And it can not gather firewood, or help us hunt, or till the soil.

And it can not tell us stories or give us advice that we may be helped for, like Old Nan. And so, the best help it can give is to become a part of a stew and fill our bellies to make us through the cold", his father laughed and gave him a little scruffing.

Tommen did not like to have his hair rousled like that. He hated the feeling, and gnyed for his father to stop.

Father mumbled something and put him down, to take his hand of his mother instead, as the Hound fell into their sides as well and they began taking the pathway towards the eastern inner castle portcullis.

"Very well. Have it your own way then", Father said, as his Mother kissed him on his head and smoothed out his curls.

Mother knew mostly how he wanted them, but even she could not do it perfectly. Tommen complained, as his Mother caressed him and held him close beneath her fathom. His hair was always sensitive. It always hurt when someone else touched it too much. Myrcella was the same, he knew, but she never put up as much of a fuss about it. But she brushed it more often as well.

"I do believe we have some light duck for dinner today, my sweet", his Mother said. "Or some crane, perhaps..."

"It would not matter much what it was", the Hound rasped all of a sudden from his left side. "Duck or crane, or even one of your precious little chickens. That fat cook puts so much covering and sauce on top of the meat to make it all taste the same. We might as like be eating only bread and wine."

"Gage is a good cook, but it is true that he makes too much of the food at times", Benjen agreed. "I will tell him. Today I'd fancy a proper roast", he declared. "Scorched skin, brown and crackling."

His father said as much to little Tinpot Tym, when he approached, who ran off to the kitchens to tell Gage about dinner. The boy was older than Tommen, but not by much. Nine years. He was small and skinny, even though he was a kitchen boy. Tommen doubted he would ever grow as fat as Gage the cook, who looked like a grey-white ale barrel around his belly.

He had a happy smile on him most of the time, though. And he would often sneak Tommen a cookie or two, even if it was not proper time. Tommen liked Gage. He hoped he would come and serve the food himself, but most often he did not. He had to stay in the kitchen to make food for all the others in the castle, and he himself could not eat before he was finished. That thought made Tommen sad.

Myrcella was in the Common Hall as they got in. She was sewing with Septa Arbane as usual.

"Look how dirty I am!" Tommen said, as he ran up to her. His sister took a gander, and a glance at him, surveying his brown muddy pants and jacket, and let out a little giggle.

"You look like a turnip", she said.

Tommen and Myrcella both laughed.

Septa Arbane was not as pleased, however.

"Would the little lord be sure to wash himself before he comes to interrupt my lady's needlework?"

Father frowned, as he gave his jacket away to Kladyn.

"The little lord would do as he likes in his father's castle. This is Winterfell, not a southron sept."

Septa Arbane said nothing back to that, but she glowered down at her embroiderment and made sure to drag Myrcella back to her seat. Myrcella looked sad, but complied with the septa, as usual.

"Come, my little wolf pup. Let us take you out of those muddy clothes and give you a quick bath before dinner", his Mother said.

"No! I don't want to take a bath! I don't!" Tommen cried.

His Mother gave him over to Lina and Beda, who motioned him towards the corridor and up to his chambers as he protested. Before they could reach the corridor, however, a loud noise came from somewhere just outside the castle.

A loud, red horn of immediate and terrifying danger was heard.

AAAARRRRROOOOOOOOOOO! AAARRROOOOOOOOOO!

The doors sprung open, as Dacks burst through the door screaming for help and for Lord Benjen.

"WILDLINGS! Wildlings, m'lord! Wildlings attacking on the wintertown!"

Tommen felt Beda's thick arm tense up underneath her apron shawl, as she gripped him even stronger by his arm. She almost hurt him, but noone would have heard if he screamed any more. Now the screams were of something entirely else.

Father turned right in his tracks where he stood, as he shot a look to Mother and Myrcella.

"Where are the boys? Are they still in the courtyard?"

"I-... I think so...-" Mother only had time to say, before Dacks replied.

"They are in the courtyard outside, my lord! All of them safe with Ser Rodrik!"

"Tell that to the gods of winter..." Father mumbled, sounding like a swear word, as he kissed Mother and Myrcella quickly, grabbed ahold of his cloak and turned to follow Dacks and the others out.

"How many of them?" Father asked Dacks, as they stomped towards the doors, boots echoing off the stone floor.

"A dozen or more, with horses and riders!" Dacks replied.

"Sandor! Stay here and look after them. Keep them safe", Father told the Hound as he hurried past.

"Aye, my lord", the Hound replied without hesitation, as he gathered together Mother, Myrcella and Arbane like a small flock of hens behind his great cloak and made his way with heavy steps up to wrangle Tommen from the hands of his petrified washerwomen.

Father and Dacks stopped just before they reached the door, as Father took one final glance back towards them all, and told Hal to keep watch and stay as well. Hal nodded dutifully.

"Stay here, all of you!" He called, "I'll be back soon enough!", as he ran out through the door and made the way out to the right.

The Hound pushed on, as Beda and Lina were stiff and silent with fear, and Tommen began feeling unnerved as well. Why must Father go out? Could he not send Dacks or Ser Rodrik?

Tommen felt the tears coming close behind his eyes, but the Hound's rough voice made him hurry up into the column of hens and forced him to forget about his fears and the tears of worry for his father.

"Come on now, up we go", the Hound motioned, as his broad arms and his entire shadow covered them like a bed-house, or a giant grey father rooster's wings. Like Tecker, Tommen thought.

"Don't worry, now. Just take easy and hold fast. This will be no problem for your father", he promised Tommen and Myrcella. "Only a little commotion, and some horns sounding, that is all."

Mother suddenly stopped up, and made to turn. The Hound pushed her on for a moment, blind to her motions, until she called.

"Wait, wait! Stop!" She said.

The Hound stopped up, letting his cloak slide just a couple of inches down from Mother's shoulders, as he stood there, and looked as close to worried as Tommen had ever seen him.

"What, my lady?"

Mother stood still for another moment, paralyzed as if she could not quite get the words out.

"The queen..." She said. "The queen and the young princes are still down here as well. They're down in the drawing room."

"Aye?" the Hound said. "Perhaps the men of the Kingsguard can keep her calm enough", he suggested, before adding, "if the wildlings should get through somehow, I can't protect all of you at once."

"The wildlings, in here?" Myrcella asked, and began to cry.

"No, no, hush, my love, everything will be fine. They can't get inside the walls ", Mother promised, trying her best to comfort her.

The Hound made an involuntary sound, but quickly lowered his head in silence and said nothing more about what he thought of it.

They were all rushed up and into the drawing room

The queen and his cousin Bran and Rickon and their guards, Erryk and Mendyn, were all standing there, with a look of equal shock on their faces.

"What is the meaning of this?" The queen stood up and asked Mother. "What kind of a dire horn is that?"

She seemed almost angry, but frightened as well. Tommen had seldom seen anyone look so frightened, and yet so mad.

"The meaning, Your Grace... is wildlings", Mother replied, as she gathered together Myrcella's locks into her braid and cradled her tightly towards her chest, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

Before long, she reached out to Tommen as well, and did the same with him. Her kiss was quick, quick and frightened, Tommen felt.

He might have cried again, but he could not. Not if Mother would cry. He needed to try and be strong for her. Like the Hound was. Like Tecker was for Gullan and all the other hens.

"What? Inside the castle?" the Queen asked, as her guards, Ser Erryk and Ser Mendyn, took up their shields and stared with a glowering look towards them all.

"In the wintertown", Mother said in a fatigued breath, sounding as if she was close to tears. She fought to keep them away, though.

"Benjen will sort it. I am sure of it."

The Queen made a strange look, as she looked around the room.

"I must speak to him then", she decided.

"Not now unless you and the little princes can hop up on a horse as fast as Sprinter", the Hound said in a gruff voice.

"I must speak to him", the Queen was adamant. "I must speak to Benjen."

"Your Grace, I would not go out there", the Hound cautioned again, his voice rough and decided. "With or without children, or your monster wolves".

But the Queen simply pushed past him, as did Ser Erryk and Ser Mandon. The Hound met their eyes with hatred loud and clear, as they hurried back into the Common Hall, with Rickon scurrying after on fast legs and Bran holding on to Ser Erryk's gold enplated chest as tightly as he could.

...

After that, Lina and Beda finally were given command over him again and dragged him to his chamber to bathe him. Tommen did not struggle this time, but thought of his father and the wildlings instead.

The water felt warm and nice, and he sat down and saw the gruddy brown mud on his hands as he touched carefully on his cheek.

"I'm all muddy!" He said. "On my face!"

"Yes, little lord, so you did need a bath, did you not?" Beda said, as she began scrubbing him.

Tommen said nothing, as he looked down on his body in the water. His plump little belly was almost covered entirely by the water, looking like a small island in a lake or the sea. They had been to Long Lake once. Tommen had seen several islands then, but most of them had trees on. Only a few were smooth stone, like his tummy.

Beda began to nunner on a song as she and Lina washed him.

...

When he was finished in the bath, they took him up and dried him off, starting with his hair that stuck to his head like some type of seaweed or algae. Beda would scrub too hard sometimes, but Lina did it this time, and she was careful. Tommen still got a slight ache in his head. He was sore there. Noone understood how much it hurt him. The terrible pain on his scalp was the worst thing he knew, and he almost cried as he had to endure it once again. If he ever became the lord of Winterfell after Willam, he would make sure to outlaw the scrubbing of little boys' hair. He swore it.

When he was ready and dried off on his body as well, Beda and Lina helped to dress him in his sleeping linens. He felt as in a dream of comfort now compared to earlier.

Mother came up and in to his chamber to tuck him in, and kiss him goodnight.

"Goodnight, my little cub. How are you feeling?"

"Good", Tommen replied.

"You mustn't worry too much about your Father. He will make it. He always does."

Tommen nodded dutifully, all the while as her words reminded him of it all. He could imagine Father riding outside against the wildlings, with his spear in hand, just like when he was hunting for animals.

Tommen did not like that father had to kill the poor deer and hares and other animals, but he understood that he had to kill the wildlings.

The wildlings were people, but they were evil. They hurt and killed people.

...

He stared up at the grey stone patterns of the ceiling and got lost in his train of thought.

...

Mother kissed him on the head as she sat down on his bed and began to tell him a story.

"I know a little story about your father..." She said. "It was a long time ago, when Willam was little, before you or Myrcella were born. The wildlings came over from the Gorge, and down to the Last Hearth, where the Umbers live."

"The giants."

"Yes, my sweet. The giants.", she confirmed. "You remember the Greatjon, do you not?"

"The Greatjon", he repeated. "He is a giant."

She smiled a little, as she gave him another kiss upon his brow.

"Maybe he is", she said. "He certainly has some giant's blood within him."

"He was bigger than the Hound", Tommen said with fascination as he began fantasizing about the giant lord who was his father's bannerman, even though he could have beaten father in any fight.

Or perhaps Father could truly beat him, by throwing his spear. Anyway... Greatjon and Father were friends. And the Greatjon was Father's bannerman. He would never hurt Father. He was kind, even though he was so big and scary, and he laughed so loudly and roaringly at times.

"Anyway... " Mother said. "The wildlings came home to the Greatjon and his family, at Last Hearth. It's high up to the east, just by the Wall," she explained.

"Just by the Wall", Tommen repeated.

"Yes my sweet. And Greatjon tried to fight them off himself first, but when they got past his castle he sent a raven down here to us and called for your Father's help. Do you know what your Father did then?"

"No."

"He summoned all of the men, and all of the horses. Ser Rodrik and his brother Martyn, and the Hound and all the others, and they all rode out, meanwhile me and Willam stayed here and waited. I was very frightened then. But I held out hope that he would make it. That he would be able to beat the wildlings, and save us from their spears and arrows...

And so they did.

Your father is a Stark. And I am a Lannister. Noone rebels against our houses unpunished. Noone will ever hurt you, noone will ever touch you."

"Do you promise?" Tommen asked.

"I promise", his Mother said, stroking the top of his head and kissing it gently, as he drifted slowly slowly into sleep.

…

Tommen awoke suddenly, in the darkness.

It was the middle of the night. The ghost hour, he was sure. There was a sound, coming from the hallway outside.

It was the dogs from the kennel barking, and Farlen, the kennelmaster, shouting for something.

He soon heard other voices as well, but they soon became overthrown by the loud baying of the hounds. Tommen liked most animals, but he did not particularly like the hounds. He was scared of them, especially the way they barked.

As he lay there thinking on what it could be, Hallis Mollen came bursting through the door.

"Are you safe, my lord? My lady? Tommen? Myrcella?"

"Yes", Tommen replied. "What is it?"

Mother soon came in to them as well, looking like a ghost in her silver and white linen and the white grey wolf pelt robe around her.

"My cubs!" She cried, as she reached them, and gave them the tigthest hug Tommen had ever felt.

Mother cried wet tears into his hair, as she held them both, almost strangling them in her desperate grip. Thankfully, he could still breathe.

"What is it? What's going on?" Tommen asked, trying to not ache too much in his voice. "Why are you sad?"

"No reason, my love", Mother snivelled between her crying. "I am just so happy that you are here together." She dried her cheeks. "... That you are safe."

"I am safe", Tommen said, still not understanding what it was.

"Is it the wildlings?" Myrcella asked. "Did they hurt Father?"

"No", she said. "Father got the wildlings. It's the Queen. She took the wolves from the godswood. Were they in here?"

"No!", Tommen answered. He did not understand why the wolves would have gone in here.

"Good", Mother cried. "I'm so glad, my sweetlings. I'm sorry."

…

Tommen tried, but he could not go back to sleep after that, especially not with all the sounds coming from the courtyard down below. Neither could Myrcella.

"Come on", he told her after what seemed like half an hour or more had gone by.

"We're not to go outside the chamber", his sister replied.

But before long, he had convinced her to follow him out. The guards at the door stopped them, though.

"Your mother has instructed you both to stay in the chambers, m'lord", Kedryk said.

"Farlen has taken the hounds out, by the sound of it. Not safe for wandering around the castle", Beron Snow confirmed.

"Where is Mother?" Tommen asked.

"She will be back soon, I reckon", Beron said. "She only went down to speak to your lord father."

"Why can we never get to go with?" Tommen asked.

"Trust me, little lord. It will be better for all if you stay here and wait for your lady mother."

Beron, as it turned out, was somewhat right. Mother came back to them only a short couple of minutes later, and Septa Arbane was with her as well.

"Try and go back to sleep, my love", Mother told them. "It is all safe now."

"I can't go back to sleep", Myrcella said. "It's too much noise."

"Has Farlen taken the hounds out?" Tommen asked.

"Yes", Mother confirmed. "The queen and the little princes have stolen away with our horses, my love. We must get them back. Hullen will not be pleased to hear it, nor will your father, I trust. I had thought that we could trust the queen and your cousins better than this, but it seems not..."

"Where is Father?" Tommen asked. "Did he kill the wildlings?"

"He did", Mother confirmed. "Your Father is safe. He also took some of them prisoner, and put them in the cells. We will question them later."

"I want to see Father", Myrcella chimed in. "Please Mother, won't you let ut see him?"

"Hush now, child. Try and go to sleep. Your lord father is still busy", Septa Arbane said.

"But I want to see him", Myrcella mumbled, sounding close to crying.

"All right, my love... There there..." Mother said, as she bent down and stroked Myrcella's hair. "Do you truly wish to see him now?"

"Yes..." Myrcella sobbed.

"Very well", Mother said, as she gathered together her long skirts, made a motion at her face with her handkerchief and gave a look at Arbane.

"Down to your father let's go then", she said, handing her over to the grip of Arbane as she took Tommen's hand herself.

…

Father was standing in the hallway downstairs, looking ruffled and tired as the last grey hour of night still entranced their shade around him.

"Why are the children up?" He demanded. "They should be in bed, should they not?"

"They asked to see you", Mother said. "A far better question would be why the queen has suddenly stolen away in the middle of the night with our best horses."

"I will see to the horses", Father promised. "Don't you think I won't. She is gone mad with fear from the wildlings", he said dismissively. "For the sake of her boys, of course."

He shook his head, putting his hands above his brow and hair.

Mother leaned in and whispered something to him, that Tommen couldn't hear, and Father whispered something back and then nodded his head.

"Yes, yes... We will go out and get a hold of them", he said. "She must still be frightened of the wildlings, as I said. But I will assure her that we've taken care of them."

"She must be frightened?" Mother said, outraged. "First, she attacks our daughter with those beastly wolves, and then she gallops off into the night with our finest coursers!

She is gone mad, I tell you, yes, if ever I saw one who was. She needs to be taken back, and kept under close watch, for her own safety, and that of the princes. This cannot stand, husband."

Mother's tone was decided, angry, and yet ice cold. Tommen did not dare to ask any questions. He simply stood by Arbane with Myrcella, looking down at the floor and listening to the bark of the hounds somewhere in the distance, fading out as they began to move away from the castle.

"We will sort this. All of this. I will make certain of that", Father said with a face of iron, as he turned around, clenched his gloved hands together, and broke a quick look at Tommen and Myrcella both.

"You two, go back to bed, and we will talk tomorrow."

"But I want to see!" Tommen said, waving his arms along his sides.

"There is nothing to see, except that we will be riding out to get Catelyn and the princes back."

"Those wolves will do their best to savage any man who comes close", Mother assured him. "Sandor tried to save them from such a fate, but she would not have it, it seems. … Bring archers. "

She lifted her brow, for even the slighest of moments seeming almost glad.

"Bring Theon with you, if he likes. It will be good practice for him. … And perhaps he'll get himself a nice wolf pelt from the ordeal."

...