Chapter 6

"Daliya?" Robb called softly as he spotted her sitting on the embrasure, gazing out into the distance. She didn't stir at first, her focus somewhere far beyond Winterfell's walls. "Daliya?"

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and it was only then that she blinked, as though coming back to herself, and turned toward him.

"Robb," she hummed, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Hello," he replied, relieved, mirroring her smile. "Have you seen Arya?"

Daliya tilted her head slightly, her gaze wandering again for a moment before she shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Septa Mordane is looking for her," Robb added with a touch of amusement. "She's supposed to be in a lesson with Sansa."

"She wants to be free," Daliya murmured, her voice as distant as her gaze, that same dreamy look in her eyes. "To find her own path."

Robb raised an eyebrow, though he was no stranger to Daliya's way of speaking. He smiled softly, looking out over the castle grounds.

"That sounds like Arya," he said with a quiet chuckle. "Always running off when she's supposed to be somewhere else."

Daliya's gaze didn't leave the horizon, her voice soft as she added, "She's not like Sansa. She won't follow the same path." There was a strange certainty in her tone, as if she could see the future laid out before them.

Robb sighed, leaning against the stone wall beside her. "No, she won't. But I'm sure she'll find her way."

Daliya nodded, a frown forming on her brow. 'Arya told me she envies me for not having to attend to the lessons.' She looked away, her gaze distant. "They tried to teach me. It was useless. I am useless."

Robb's expression softened at her words, and he quickly shook his head. "You're not useless, Daliya. Don't say that."

Daliya remained quiet, her gaze still fixed on the horizon as if the world outside held the answers to things she couldn't quite grasp. "I can't learn the way they want me to," she murmured, her voice fragile. "I don't fit."

Robb frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. He had never thought of Daliya as useless. If anything, she had a quiet wisdom about her, a way of seeing things that others often overlooked. "You don't need to be like Sansa or Arya. You're your own person, Daliya."

She glanced at him briefly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "But what kind of person am I?"

Robb thought about that for a moment, unsure how to put it into words. "You're someone who sees things differently. That doesn't make you useless. It makes you… special. You understand things the rest of us don't."

Her smile faded slightly, and her fingers traced idle patterns on the stone of the embrasure. "Maybe. But I can't help anyone. Not like you or Jon."

"You don't have to fight with swords to help people," Robb said firmly. "Just being there, just being you, it matters. You matter, Daliya."

For the first time since he'd arrived, Daliya turned her full gaze on him, her eyes soft but searching. "Do I really?" she whispered, as if she wasn't sure she could believe him.

Robb met her eyes and nodded, his voice steady. "Yes, you do. You're part of this family, and we love you. That's never going to change." He paused briefly before continuing. "Father told me he asked Jon to become your guardian if something were to happen to him and mother. I want you to know that you can also trust me to always look after you."

Daliya's eyes widened slightly at Robb's words, the weight of his promise hanging in the air between them. She blinked, her expression softening as she absorbed what he had said. "You… you would do that for me?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," Robb replied without hesitation. "You're my little sister, Daliya."

Her gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers lightly tracing the stone beneath her, as if grounding herself in the reality of his words. "It's hard to trust sometimes… to believe I won't be forgotten."

Robb's heart ached at the uncertainty in her voice. "You won't be forgotten," he said, leaning closer. "Not by Jon, not by me, not by anyone. We'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Daliya's lips curved into a small, but genuine smile. "Thank you, Robb."

He gave her a reassuring nod and reached out to squeeze her hand gently. "Of course, Daliya. Now, I'd better find Arya before Septa Mordane loses her mind," he added with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Daliya let out a soft giggle, and for a moment, the heaviness between them seemed to lift. "Good luck."

As Robb walked away, he glanced back once more, relieved to see a bit of light return to her eyes. He heard her murmuring something about the tower being a good hiding place.

"Under the direwolf," she murmured absentmindedly.

Robb shook his head with a quiet chuckle, knowing all too well that Arya would likely be hiding somewhere hard to reach, as usual. "The tower, huh?" he called back over his shoulder with a playful tone. "I'll start there, then."

Daliya gave a small nod, her dreamy smile still in place, though her gaze had drifted back to the horizon. Robb felt a sense of peace knowing he'd managed to ease some of her worries, even if just for a moment.

As he made his way through Winterfell, heading toward the tower Daliya had mentioned, Robb couldn't shake the thought of what she had said, about being forgotten. The idea weighed heavily on him. She wasn't like the rest of them, but that didn't make her any less loved.

He approached the base of the tower, looking up and narrowing his eyes. With a sigh and a grin, he started climbing.

Reaching the top of the tower, Robb peered around, scanning the shadows for any sign of Arya. "Alright, little sister," he muttered to himself, "where are you hiding this time?"

He noticed several large chests and took a closer look. One of them had the sigil of the house Stark, a direwolf, carved on the cover.

"Under the direwolf."

No, that couldn't be. Yet, he lifted the cover, revealing Arya hiding inside.

"Robb!" she complained. "I don't want to go to that stupid lesson!"

Robb blinked in surprise, his mind racing to catch up with the impossible reality before him. How was this possible? How had Daliya known where Arya was?

"Did you tell Daliya you were hiding here?" Robb heard himself asking.

"Of course not," Arya huffed, pouting her lips. "I wouldn't reveal my hiding places to anyone."

Robb stared at Arya, still trying to wrap his head around the strange coincidence. How had Daliya known exactly where Arya was hiding? The tower, under the direwolf, it was too precise to be a guess. His mind wandered back to Daliya's cryptic way of speaking, the odd things she sometimes said that seemed to hint at knowledge beyond what anyone else could understand.

"Are you sure?" he asked Arya again, his voice quieter this time, more thoughtful. "You didn't mention it to her at all?"

Arya shook her head, her pouting expression softening into curiosity as she noticed the look on Robb's face. "No, Robb. I didn't tell anyone." She paused, her brow furrowing. "Why? What did Daliya say?"

Robb hesitated, still trying to make sense of it himself. "She told me where to find you," he said finally. "Before I came here, she said you'd be hiding under the direwolf."

Arya's eyes widened, her defiance replaced by a flicker of unease. "How did she…?" Arya trailed off, biting her lip. "That's... weird."

Robb nodded, feeling the same strange sense of unease. He knew Daliya was different, but this felt like more than just intuition. He wasn't sure what to make of it, and judging by Arya's expression, neither was she.

"Well, whatever it is," Robb said, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling, "we'd better get you to that lesson before Septa Mordane really loses her temper."

Arya groaned in protest, her earlier defiance returning in full force. "I don't want to go! Can't I skip just this once?"

Robb smiled, though the mystery of Daliya's words still lingered in the back of his mind. "Not a chance, little sister," he said, reaching down to help her out of the chest. "But I'll tell you what, if you make it through the lesson without any trouble, I'll take you down to the training yard afterward. Maybe we can spar a little."

Arya's eyes lit up, and the unease was quickly forgotten. "Really?"

Robb nodded. "But only if you behave."

She sighed but finally relented, allowing him to guide her back toward the lesson she was so determined to avoid. As they walked back to the Great Hall, Robb's thoughts drifted once more to Daliya, wondering just how much more she saw than the rest of them did.


"Daliya!" Jon called as he entered her chamber. She was sitting in the chair, eyes closed.

"Daliya?"

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times before smiling up at Jon. Her smile widened as her gaze fell upon the small white direwolf pup cradled in his arms.

"Who is this?" she asked warmly.

"We found a dead direwolf with six pups," Jon explained, stepping closer. "I brought this one for you."

He carefully placed the pup on her lap. Daliya stroked the tiny creature gently, her fingers moving softly through its fur. She stared into its eyes for a long moment, then slowly shook her head.

"He is not for me," she said softly. "He is for you, Jon."

"I'm not a Stark," Jon murmured, his voice hesitant. "There were six pups for the six Stark children."

Daliya shook her head again, her voice unwavering. "He is meant for you."

Jon smiled faintly, the question lingering in his eyes. "How do you know? Did he tell you that?"

She nodded, a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "He did."

Jon's smile faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful frown. He glanced down at the small pup in Daliya's lap, its pale fur gleaming in the firelight. The direwolf blinked up at him, almost as if it understood the weight of the moment.

"He's different from the others," Jon muttered, his fingers brushing the pup's head. "He doesn't look like them. Like he doesn't quite belong."

Daliya nodded, her gaze still fixed on the direwolf. "He is special. Just like you," she whispered.

The pup shifted in Daliya's lap, nuzzling against her hand as if seeking comfort. She smiled softly at the little creature, but there was something in her eyes, something far away, as if she could see deeper than what was in front of her.

"The wolf is like you," she continued, her voice quiet, almost reverent. "Not born into this world like the others, but still… destined for it."

Jon swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over him. He reached out, taking the pup gently from her lap and cradling it in his arms. The small wolf let out a soft whimper, then nestled into Jon's chest, its eyes fluttering shut.

"He belongs to you," Daliya whispered, her fingers brushing the wolf's fur one last time before she pulled away. "I can feel it."

Jon didn't reply immediately. He looked down at the pup, so small, yet there was a fierceness in him, a strength that belied his size.

"You think he'll keep me safe?" Jon asked, half-joking, but there was a hint of something more in his voice.

Daliya's smile was soft, her eyes reflecting the flames. "I think you'll keep each other safe."

Jon's heart swelled at her words. He hugged the pup closer, the warmth of the little body seeping into him.

"We'll take care of each other then," Jon promised, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you. I think he belongs to both of us."

Daliya's gaze softened as Jon spoke, her eyes flickering with something warm, though still touched by that distant look she often carried. "Maybe," she murmured. "Maybe we all belong to each other."

Jon shifted slightly, feeling the weight of her words. He knew that Daliya would never belong to him, not the way he would have wanted. His feelings for her were wrong in every possible way, but he couldn't bear the thought of staying away from her. She needed him as her brother and protector.

He looked down at the small direwolf nestled in his arms, fast asleep and unaware of the world's worries. There was something about the pup's calm presence that reassured Jon, like a promise of strength and loyalty, no matter what lay ahead.

"Ghost," Jon whispered. The name came to him as naturally as if he'd always known it. "I think I'll call him Ghost."

Daliya's smile widened, a touch of approval in her expression. "It suits him. Silent but always watching."

Jon chuckled softly, feeling the name settle around them like a quiet truth. He glanced back at Daliya, her eyes still lingering on the flames, and for a moment, he wondered what she saw beyond the fire's glow.

"I'll make sure Ghost watches over you too," Jon said softly, as if making a silent vow to her. "We'll keep you safe."

Daliya didn't respond right away, but her hand drifted to rest lightly on Jon's arm, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. "Thank you, Jon," she said finally, her voice almost too quiet to hear. "I know you won't let me get lost."

Her words left a strange ache in his chest, one he couldn't quite place. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from the things she seemed to be haunted by, the things she saw in the flames or heard in the whispers of the world. But he also knew, deep down, that there were parts of Daliya that were beyond his reach.

Still, he would try. He would always try.

"No, I won't. I'll never let you wander too far away from me."

Daliya's smile was soft but tinged with something deeper, as though she understood more than she let on. "I know you won't," she whispered, her fingers still lightly resting on his arm. "But I'm scared, Jon."

"Scared of what?"

She was quiet for a moment before replying. "To be trapped inside my head. To lose this world. To lose you."

Jon's heart clenched at her words. He shifted closer, his hand gently covering hers as he searched her face, trying to understand the weight behind her fear. "You won't lose me, Daliya," he said quietly, his voice firm with a promise he wasn't sure he could keep but would fight to. "Not me. Not ever."

Daliya's eyes shimmered with something fragile, her gaze dipping to where their hands met. "But what if I lose myself?" she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "What if one day, I can't find my way back from whatever is inside me?"

Jon's chest ached at the thought of her battling something he couldn't see, couldn't fight for her.

"You won't be lost," Jon said softly but fiercely. "Not as long as I'm here. I'll keep you grounded. I'll be your tether, Daliya."

Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around his. "You promise?"

"I swear it." His voice was steady, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made the promise feel like more than just words. "If you ever feel lost, if the world gets too loud, I'll bring you back. Every time."

A tear slipped down Daliya's cheek, but she smiled, a real smile, though it was tinged with sadness. "You always say the right things, Jon."

"It's because I mean them," he said, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "You're not going to lose yourself. I'll make sure of it."

For a long moment, they sat in silence, the warmth of the fire and the quiet crackle of the flames surrounding them.

"Thank you," Daliya murmured, her voice soft but full of emotion. "For your love. I hope to be worthy of it."

Jon's heart tightened at Daliya's words. She had never spoken so openly about the weight she carried or the love between them. The love he felt for her, while complicated, was fierce and unwavering, something that had always been there, quietly binding him to her.

"You don't have to try to be worthy of it, Daliya," Jon said softly, his voice filled with an earnestness that came from the deepest part of him. "You already are."

Daliya looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unspoken fears and emotions. "Sometimes I feel like the world is slipping away from me, like I don't belong in it anymore. But when I'm with you, it's different. I feel… safe. Like I'm still here."

Jon gently squeezed her hand, his gaze never leaving hers. "Then I'll keep you here, with me."

Daliya's lips quivered into a soft smile, though there was still that hint of sadness in her eyes, something Jon wished he could take away. She nodded, accepting his words as if they were a lifeline.

Jon felt an overwhelming surge of protectiveness toward her. Whatever darkness haunted her, whatever unseen forces tried to pull her away, he would fight them all.

She rested her head lightly against his shoulder, and for the first time in a long while, Jon felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. For now, the warmth of the fire, Ghost's soft breathing, and the quiet between them were enough. It was a fragile peace, but it was theirs. And Jon would protect it with everything he had.


"Ned, I'm not sure if letting the children keep the pups is a good idea," Catelyn stated. "I'm sure Robb can take care of his, but the others…"

"I have no doubt that Bran will take good care of his pup," Ned replied. "So will Sansa and Arya. It will do them good to learn some responsibility. Rickon may need some help, but I believe this is good for him as well."

"What about Daliya?"

"She wanted Jon to take the sixth pup, and I think that is a good idea."

Catelyn hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I'm worried about her, Ned. Her… condition seems to be getting worse. The guards found her wandering in the woods yesterday, talking nonsense. I'm afraid the word has already spread."

Ned's brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and frustration settling over his features as he leaned back in his chair. "I know," he said quietly. "I've heard the rumors too, but Daliya is not a danger to herself or anyone else. The woods have always been her refuge, she finds peace there."

Catelyn shook her head, her worry clear in the tight lines of her face. "Ned, it's not just about the woods. People are beginning to talk. They think there's something... unnatural about her. What if the rumors reach beyond Winterfell? What then?"

Ned sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "I know Daliya is different, but she's still family. She's been through enough, and I won't have her treated like some outcast. Whatever it is that haunts her, she has Jon, and she has us."

Catelyn's expression softened, but her concern didn't fade. "I understand that, Ned, but Jon can't always be there to protect her. What if something happens to him?"

"Then we'll all step in. Daliya is strong in her own way, Cat," Ned said firmly. "She may have her moments, but I won't give up on her. We can't."

Catelyn lowered her gaze, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I don't want to give up on her either," she whispered. "I just want to be sure she's safe. That the others don't start fearing her."

Ned stood and walked over to Catelyn, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Daliya has a place in this family, just like the rest of them. The others will come to see her the way we do. In time."

Catelyn looked up at him, her eyes still clouded with doubt but softened by his words. "I hope you're right, Ned. I truly do. I love her, but I fear what the world may do to her if it cannot understand her."

Ned nodded, his gaze distant as if already bracing himself for battles that went beyond swords and politics. "We'll protect her, Cat. From the world and from herself, if we must."