NOTE: Here we go, chapter 5. I am not very sure of myself about that one, I hope you'll like it. Editing is way harder than I expected xD I don't want to change too many things but at the same time, I feel like it's necessary to have some depth into this story. A more solid background and a more believable evolution of Kyria's character. And the others too.

Anyway, I hope you'll like this one!

Shade: Thank you for your review like always. You wished more time with Arya...well... Enjoy?

Alright I hope you'll like this! Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Seeking answers

Third week of the fourth month of the year 297 a.c

Winterfell

Kyria Stark

Jon was hard to miss in a library. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, his eyes jumping from shelf to shelf. He looked like a frightened rabbit. It was almost funny to watch. He kept eyeing the shelf like he was expecting the books to jump at him and attack him.

Kyria made absolutely no effort to gain his attention, fascinated by his hesitation as he wobbled on his feet, all quick eyes and nervous ticks. She wondered if he behaved similarly when Maester Luwin took him here for his lessons. She knew for a fact that Robb still had those regularly. He liked to complain about it. Loudly.

Maybe Jon doesn't have those anymore. She kept forgetting, but he was a bastard. Her mother wouldn't allow him to have the same education as Robb. Especially if she took into account her mother's fear of Jon lusting after their brother's place.

Which was completely dumb if someone was to ask her opinion but well… nobody asked.

Kyria blinked and Jon suddenly found her, quickly wiggling through the large room full of shelf his face pitched in uneasiness. She thought of asking him, if he ever came to the Library or if he had his lessons with Maester Luwin, she wasn't sure which. She didn't ask anything in the end. She did not want to go there.

"Kyria."

"Jon."

He danced on his heels, allowing himself one last uncomfortable look, then finally sat next to her at the small table.

"I- I think it's time we talk."

There is a voice, inside Kyria's head, that begged to make a sarcastic comment there. About Jon repeating himself. About the whole situation making her wish she couldn't talk at all, for if so no one would force her to relive those things. Fortunately, she has enough control over herself to stop her mouth from doing just that.

Tempting though.

"Yes. We have to anyway if we want to accomplish anything."

He nodded and gulped nervously.

"Last time. You said you dreamed. You talked about your visions."

"Yes," she agreed slowly.

"I think the first thing we should do is- maybe try to understand what exactly we are talking about."

"Visions. And voices. Inside my head. Every night. Sometimes during the day," she said bluntly.

He grunted.

"No, I mean. What do you dream about, exactly?"

"Exactly? You mean to describe one of them?"

"Aye."

...Great. She was starting to strongly dislike this conversation. More so than before. Which was worth noticing.

"If you don't want to.."

She didn't. Not at all. The idea on its own made her want to run as fast as she could and never talk about it again.

But not talking about it also meant she might never understand what was happening to her. And in the end, she could very well lose her mind.

Now uncomfortable, she looked away rubbing her forehead tiredly.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just… talk about it. Tell me how it happened, what do you see?"

Kyria sighed again, her eyes locked on the used wood of the table. Following a deep crack that looked like it was there since the beginning of times. Thinking of how old the place was, she wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

It was always the same problem. Where to start? How was she supposed to explain that?

She looked up and Jon was watching her attentively. The color of his eyes brought back memories.

"I dreamed of Father once."

"Father? I thought you never saw people?"

"Father was an exception. He was not...He was not alive."

Jon shifted in front of her.

"What do you mean?"

"There was this… place with all those… thing, people I think. I don't really know. They looked like blank canvas. There was nothing. No face, no color. Nothing. In the middle of all of those blank faces, I saw Father. His head was... "

She couldn't finish.

She didn't really need to either. Jon's white face was the understanding she needed. He looked disturbed. Understandably.

"He- did you… when did you dream of that?"

"The first time?"

"You mean there was more than one time?"

She chose not to answer that.

"The first time. It was the first dream."

Jon nodded, still pale.

"Did you dream of… anyone else?"

She hesitated. It was hard to say. She did of course. She remembered every dream. All of them. Precisely. Like it was yesterday. But this one...

"Once."

"Who?"

"Bran."

Jon blinked surprised. He hadn't expected that. Kyria hadn't either when she dreamed it. It confused her a lot. Why Bran? Out of all of them, why dream of sweet young innocent Bran? What was his role, his place in the middle of all this pain and despair? She couldn't explain it herself. But the feeling of it. That dream… She didn't like to think about it.

It felt… wrong. Different. Ancient maybe. It was hard to explain.

Jon tried to know more about this dream but she closed up, refusing to talk about it.

He fell back on his chair, frustrated. He rubbed his face tiredly and looked at her from between his fingers. After a moment of silence, he talked again.

"Alright. What else can you tell me?"

Kyria sighed and thought carefully.

"Most of them are… monsters. Twisted things who look nothing like human beings. Animals, part of different things put together. Or just pieces. Separate. It's never really the same. Some of them come more than once. I see them in different dreams. Others only appear once."

"And what is it they are doing in those dreams? Are they talking?"

"Sometimes."

Jon nodded and Kyria felt bad. She tried to be precise but there was very little she was able to describe. It was always more like a feeling. An impression. Something she felt in her bones. That shocked her very soul. It was hard to put words on such things.

Jon nodded, moved on his chair, and waited for her to continue.

This conversation was about to get far longer than she expected.

OoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

One afternoon wasn't enough. Far from it. They spend hours talking. Explaining. Speculating. When the night fell and someone called them for supper, they hadn't made any kind of progress. Worse, she felt even more confused.

Kyria went to bed with a massive headache. She woke up two short hours later with another vision. A rabid beast, fleshy and pink barking and biting everything around it with delight. Bathing in blood and rejoicing the agony who rumbled around it. Frightening.

Her scream had pushed the pillow right into her mouth. She felt like she couldn't breathe, and the lack of oxygen made her head dizzy and fuzzy. Like she was about to faint.

It took her time to calm down. Even more time to fall back asleep.

On the morrow, she missed her fast and barely made it on time for her lesson with her mother. Catelyn looked slightly disapproving of her tardiness but didn't comment. It wasn't the first time it happened. So far Kyria suspected her accident and situation of being the reason why Mother didn't complain or scold her like she would any other of her siblings.

It was frustrating. One of the many ways everyone had to remind her of her difference. She was aware of the temporality of that excuse. It would only last that long. Which was maybe worse. Not only did they have to remind her every time of her problems, but they almost seemed to hang it above her head, like a threat.

Having a problem was a bad thing, but resolving the problem was as essential as it seemed threatening. What kind of logic was that?

Having Mother getting angry at her because she supposedly used that excuse to do as she pleased, even though she never said anything about that, was simply unfair. And thinking about it almost made her want to purposely be late for her lessons. Out of spite.

She was tired of it all. Tired and angry, and frustrated and so many other thing she couldn't even begin to name.

It was a subject she'd rather not think about it. So she forgot to think about it and dutifully followed her mother around the large keep.

When she joined Jon in the library that afternoon, it was with a new sense of urgency looming in her. She needed to find out what happened to her. Maybe then she could get rid of all those awful visions and finally start having a life of her own.

It took her and Jon three days to go over each and every vision Kyria had since she woke up. It was long and painful both physically and mentally for her. It was like dreaming again, and again and again. Without any rest or pause.

It was exhausting. But she did it. When the last words left her mouth, Jon looked up at her, and at that moment, it seemed like he had aged three years in three days.

"This is... "

"Aye…"

They looked at each other with haunted eyes. The pile of paper between them seemed to mock them. Displayed like that, spread and smeared on paper, it seemed even more frightening to Kyria. More dangerous. Threatening.

What were they supposed to do with that now? How were they supposed to go on with something like that? Suddenly, Kyria's long and agonizing dissection of every single dream she ever had seemed… pointless. She felt lost, confused, and empty. Left only with a burning need to lock herself up somewhere and forget about all of this. Keep everything out and slowly lose herself into the madness her own mind seemed determined to conjure.

Jon blinked slowly, owlishly at the pile, just as lost and overwhelmed as she was.

"What now?"

"Maybe we should… try to find a way to understand this. Maybe it means something. We should- I don't know." he proposed, unsure.

Kyria pitched her lips. Thinking.

"Maybe the monsters could mean something? I mean, there is one in all of my visions. Or- most of them," she added half-heartedly.

She didn't really believe it. But what else could they do? Besides, it wasn't as if there had never been anything related to monsters and animals around here.

She was a Stark after all. A wolf.

After a moment of contemplation, Jon nodded.

"We can always try."

Kyria smiled. They were far from over with all this.

The list was long. Far longer than what she expected. She never realized before how many different things she dreamed of since this started.

When they were done, they started looking. The easiest way was the sigils. Dozen of them, in all the seven kingdoms.

There were the major houses, who ruled the Kingdoms, of course, then the other, noble ones. The richest, the most known. The famous ones, with great history or lineage. Or just one lone person good enough to be remembered to take the family name into another level of greatness. Then there were the other, smaller families. Still noble and high born, but not as remarkable as others could be. Or as wealthy. Most of the time it was the gold who made the difference. And finally, there were the small houses. Barely noble and often poor. But still, wealthy enough to possess a sigil. In gold or history, it depended on the house.

And all of this, excluding the extinguished ones. Who they might very well need to look for if she wanted to really push away all the possible leads.

All in all, there were hundreds of them. Thousand maybe. The sight of the books she managed to find within the library was enough to steal every color on Jon's cheeks.

She understood. It was only a part of the dreams, the monsters, and already the task sounded impossible.

"We won't finish this quickly will we?" he asked slowly.

Kyria felt bad for him. Guilty. This whole thing was taking a lot more of their time than expected. It wasn't fair for Jon. He shouldn't have to spend all his time with her locked up in a library to help her deal with her problem. It was her problem, to begin with.

Maybe she could carry on alone? It would certainly free Jon from her company and the boring and senseless quest for answers. She wasn't even sure it could lead anywhere. Maybe she was just losing her mind.

"You don't have to keep helping…"

Jon looked up, one of the books about Sigils already open in front of him.

"What do you mean?"

"This… this is going to take forever for us to see through. We can't… you don't have to keep coming every day to help me. I am most sure you could do half a dozen other things than that and be far better from it."

He smiled. The corner of his mouth turned down.

"I want to help you."

Her mouth twitched with the need to smile. She shouldn't let go. She shouldn't be pleased with him. She should insist, plead for him to stop and to go out, enjoy his time outside, training, or- anything! He loved training outside. Spending time with Robb, or Arya or Bran, Rickon, even Theon would be better than spending all his days locked up in a library with her!

She ignored the pang of hurt at the thought, hard reminder that most of the members of her family still avoided her most of the time. Except Rickon. But Rickon was too small to understand everything.

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she was pushing them away. Or maybe the differences in her were enough to do it for her.

Hearing Jon say he wished to help her touched her more than she would admit. And she couldn't deny that since their first talk ,he had been able to understand her better thanshe first expected. He made her feel like she wasn't losing her mind. Like there was something more in her madness. It felt good to feel supported.

But it still wasn't fair to him.

"Kyria.," he called, bringing her attention back to her.

She looked up.

"You need my help. And I want to help you."

He smiled and Kyria stopped complaining. There seemed to be no way of changing his mind.

Unfortunately, the prolongation of their research soon led to other problems. Of course, they did. For people around were taking a lot of interest in everything she did. And spending time with the bastard was not a good activity. Even less when they were alone in a library all day.

Because Maester Luwin, who was there most of the time, even though not right next to them, didn't count of course.

They were complaining. Worse, they were complaining behind her back. Why? Why spending time with her brother was suddenly the main focus of the entire keep? It was her brother by the hells! Her brother! What were they expecting?!

Mother was the most displeased. Kyria could almost taste the contempt in the air when she dared cross her path with Jon close by. The way she would sometimes fix them, with such intensity… So much anger held in those eyes. It burned on Kyria's head. She hoped to never live like that, with such resentment, bottled up inside, all the time.

Oddly, she wasn't the worst of the whole thing. All this cold anger and icy disdain was nothing to Arya's burning Fury.

Arya's anger was legendary around the keep. A tight ball of burning feelings unrepressed, and harsh, vicious revenge. Oh, Arya was just as good as Lady Catelyn when she wanted to make someone feel bad for being where they were. Doing what they did. Existing. Mostly.

For Kyria it happened suddenly. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe she just didn't notice before.

She couldn't miss it after that though. She was on her way to the Great Hall when her little sister. The impact of the girl's shoulder against Kyria's flank was so quick and sudden, she had to grip the wall next to her to stop herself from falling.

"Arya!" she protested.

The little girl glared violently, her entire face murderous with fury. It was so sudden, Kyria felt like she just swallowed her tongue. She huffed, turned her back, and stomped her way through the doors.

Kyria was left confused.

"Is everything alright Kyria?" asked Robb from behind her.

"I- don't know…"

"What happened with Arya?"

"She's… mad at me?"

Robb smiled.

"I saw that. What happened?"

"I don't know… There is nothing that could have.. done that."

"Huh… maybe she doesn't like you spending so much time with Jon recently."

Kyria blinked. Robb shrugged and looked away.

"What?"

He shrugged again. "Nothing, nothing. Only-"

"Only what Robb?"

"Well, you do spend a lot of time with Jon."

...

Was he annoyed too?

No. Why? They spend a lot of time together yes, but what changes does that make for Robb? He has Theon doesn't he?

"Are you...bothered by that too?"

Robb looked back at her, hesitant in the way he held himself.

"I- It's just- you used to-"

"You are!"

"Well not exactly but-"

"No, you are! What is the matter with you all?"

"With us? Kyria you are the one acting differently. Spending time with Jon, getting angry when we talk about it..."

"I am not getting angry!" she shouted.

...

Alright maybe a little.

Kyria fought the blush threatening her neck and cheek and glared at Robb's meaningful gaze that last long enough to make her feel stupid about herself and her frustration. She had to actively press her mouth shut to stop herself from saying anything else.

Once certain she could talk without screaming at his face, she released the pressure on her mouth and teeth.

"Alright," she says, "So you don't like it too."

"It's not- not that I don't like it."

Kyria's eyebrow twitched up to her hairline. Really? Robb sighed and rubbed his face. Something he seemed inclined to do when he was upset.

"I- Kyria we worry about you. You have been strange recently...spending all this time in the library?"

"What? Am I not allowed to educate myself now?"

"Kyria… you spend days here. It can't be good for you."

Oh, how little he knew.

And how much this was no concern of his. Especially when he knew nothing at all. Annoying brother.

"I know what I'm doing Robb. I have my reasons."

"And are those reasons worth dragging Jon in it?"

...Seriously?

"I would never make him do anything." She said coolly.

Robb's face changed. But the fury of her brother's unjust accusations was stronger than his confusion. With trembling hands she did her best to hide behind her skirts, Kyria walked quickly past Robb. He called her but she refused to turn back. How could he?! Who did he think she was? Some kind of slaver who would do anything to drag someone into the first mischief she could find?

He had no idea! He couldn't understand! How could he judge her like that?! How dared he?!

Kyria couldn't shake off the anger 'till late that night. She stubbornly refused to look at Robb or talk to anyone around the table. She barely spared Rickon a kiss on his fluffy head before heading to bed. Her mother's disapproval be damned, she earned the right to be angry!

She never said a thing! Not since she started living that confusing life. She never complained about how everyone seemed to want to treat her like fragile glass, how they looked always cautious, always afraid to say the wrong thing or to do something that might upset her. And even though she never cried in public, never showed any weakness, and tried her hardest to be the Stark daughter she felt she needed to be, they carried on with their caution!

She felt like a wild creature, dangerous and hurt, ready to strike at the first sign of weakness. She couldn't bear this. She was sick of feeling different. Out of place.

The slam of her door resonated in the corridors. No one bothered her that evening. Good riddance. She spends the whole night ruminating her anger and frustration. She only fell asleep when her eyes couldn't stay open any longer. She didn't sleep much.

She dreamed of a strange little bird with blood on red feathers.

On the morrow, Arya was as cold as the summer snow falling outside. And Kyria couldn't look at Robb without feeling like a cooking pot ready to explode.

The tension was high for a lot of people. And of course, as it felt like he was the only one she could still talk to, Kyria did not wait long before confessing everything to Jon.

"She feels like we are growing apart. She and I" he resumed slowly, "We were always close. She's the only one who looks like me and- I don't know, she accepts me like others don't."

"She thinks I am stealing you?"

He shrugged but the contric look on his face was enough. Great.

"And Robb? What exactly is his problem?" she asked after a moment.

Jon took more time to answer.

"I think he is scared things might change too much around everyone. Many things have already changed in little time."

"So what, he cling to his view of how things used to be in hope of them going back the same?"

"Maybe? Robb has always been complicated when he wanted to."

"I am starting to see that."

"He likes being in control."

Her brother was annoying. Lovely.

The problem with Robb being mainly her being pissed at him, she decided quickly not to focus on it. Arya and her growing grudge felt far more important. And present .

It was known in the entire keep how much Arya could hold a grudge. Her fights with Sansa were close to legendary and more than once, poor Bran had been told in no uncertain terms how annoying he could be. And also her favorite target would always be the proper Sansa, the other siblings were not unaware of the little pup's ability to make the entire keep know how pissed she was.

And so, to her endless delight, Kyria got a very good taste of her sister's fury. She thought briefly of just enduring it while it lasted, like the mature being she tried to be. But after the third hole full of goat shit in her mattress, she came to the conclusion that maybe enduring wasn't the best tactic right about now...

She confronted her in the large yard where the guards used to train. She knew Arya liked to go there, principally so she could observe and dream of a day when she would be able to train with them.

As expected the little girl was there. Kyria took a prudent step forward. The glare could have melted the snow on the floor. The wind gushed the heavy fabric of her skirt, reminding her of the current cold that burned their cheeks. Everything was made to make her even more uncomfortable.

The glare intensified. Kyria almost stepped back. Almost.

"I think we need to talk."

The glare turned murderous. It was actually impressive for such a young girl to glare so intensely.

Kyria composed herself and clasped her hand inside her sleeves.

"I don't want to."

...Wonderful.

"Arya… why are you angry at me exactly?"

She huffed angrily and Kyria refused to feel stupid. She had to start somewhere, and with Arya so stubborn there weren't many ways to pull this off.

"You're stealing him."

Ouch….

"Arya-"

She didn't need more encouragement apparently.

"No! You spend all your time with him! I can't play with him anymore! You're stealing him and keeping him for you alone! It's not fair!"

"I'm not keeping anyone Ayra!"

"You do! Jon never spent time with you before! Not like this! Why would he do that suddenly just because you tell him to?!"

"I am not forcing him to do anything, Arya don't be ridiculous."

As if she could do something like that! Who has she been taken for, seriously?!

"You do!", she said again, "he's not saying anything because he's nice and you're a lady and Mother would scold him if he upset you! Because everyone is always so nice to you! Because you hurt your head and you don't remember anything! "

Was she using what happened to Kyria as a way to hurt her and put the blame of her anger on her?

Oh no. Not in Seven hells no. She had no right to pull that off.

"Arya stop it! You can spend as much time with Jon as you want. I have nothing to do with your business!"

God she felt so childish right now. Literally fighting with her little sister about a boy! Their brother none less!

"No! It's not fair! Why would you get a special treatment because you fell from a stupid tree! Now you steal my brother from me! You never bothered before with Jon!"

"Arya would you stop! Why couldn't I spend time with Jon?"

"Jon is my brother! Before anyone else!"

"This is not a competition."

"It's not fair! Stop taking all his time!"

"I do not Arya stop it!"

"NO! I hate you!"

And with that, she pushed Kyria out of her way and ran back to the keep. Kyria had to grab one of the heavy posts supporting the wooden catwalk to stop herself from falling right on the muddy snow.

Well, that went on as well as expected. Wonderful.

Kyria contemplated briefly the idea of just running after the girl to give him some piece of her mind, but in the end, she didn't. She was in no mood to be insulted again and if this girl was going to throw a tantrum because she wasn't able to spend all daylight with her favorite sibling well it has nothing to do with Kyria.

Still angry and more hurt than she was willing to admit, Kyria took the direction of the Godswood almost without thinking about it. At least there no one would scream their hate at her.

Because today was definitely not her day, the place was already taken. She stopped, stupidly surprised by the imposing silhouette of her father, made even larger by the wide branches of the heartree behind him. The blood red leaves surrounded his head like a crown and she had to look away a moment, disturbed by the strange vision and the even stranger feeling it moved inside her.

She tried to not think about it.

His long sword was even harder to look at, and Kyria felt her eyes fall on his booted feet. Safer for her jumpy mind. She took a prudent step closer, her mind clouded by too many things to truly know what she wanted to say. Part of her wanted to snap at him, to demand to be left alone to deal with all the things she had to deal with. But she couldn't do that now could she?

She may not know a lot of things about herself, but she did know she wouldn't be that selfish. And inconsiderate. The world couldn't turn around her little self.

Instead, she sat on a flat rock next to the black pool of water and watched the reflection of the blood red leaves on the mirror-like surface.

Father didn't comment on her sudden appearance. He looked up briefly, then resumed the slow motion of his hand against the dark metal of the great sword.

None of them talked. Kyria closed her eyes and basked in the silence of the woods. The whisper of the wind, the softness of the snow under her feet. She liked it there. Sometimes she wondered why. It was there she first got hurt, here she lost her life. But she couldn't hate the place. There was something soothing about it. She liked to think it was the Old God's presence. They were strong here. It was their domain.

"What is troubling you child?"

Her father's voice rubbed off the silence in Kyria's mind. She blinked. He hadn't moved from his task and had she been more indeep in her thought she would have missed it.

"Why do you think me troubled Father?"

He huffed, a tiny smile fighting its way on his face. Kyria refused to blush or feel foolish for whatever reason made her father smile. He certainly was not making fun of her. Or the way she answered, with her nose up and voice high. On a closer look, he seemed almost… nostalgic. Like he knew something she didn't. Which, to be honest wouldn't surprise her.

Kyria looked down, astonished beyond herself of the way her mind rolled on its own with just one look from Father.

Ned might have seen the flush, but he didn't comment on it. He dropped his hand on the flat of his sword and gave his daughter all his attention.

"When us Stark come to the Gods like you do, it is to lower our burdens. The Gods listen here. To you, to me, to everyone."

It seemed to Kyria that there was more than just some strange call from gods in the woods. But she didn't comment.

Kyria blinks slowly.

"How do you know they listen?"

Father smiled and looked up to the waving leaves of the trees.

"When I was a boy, barely older than our Rickon, my mother would take me here." he started slowly, " she would sit right where you are, and pray to the gods. I asked her that same question."

Father rarely talks about his family. The one he grew up with. Kyria knows he lost most of them, to the Rebellion, to the Targaryen and their madness, and to childbirth, for his mother. But he never talked about it. Or very rarely. Once or twice, Kyria remembers stories of her uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna, of her grandfather. Of Uncle Benjen more often. But never his mother.

Kyria held her breath, waiting painfully for Father to finish his sentence.

"She would say we don't have to believe in them. You only have to listen. Trust they are here, and listen. They talk in the whisper of the leaves in the wind, the shiver of the water, the creaking of the branches. We don't have to believe, we only have to listen."

Ned closed his mouth and smiled. To her confusion, Kyria tried to pay attention to the noises of the wind in the leaves. Slow and steady. If she had to say it, they did sound like whispers.

Ned closed his eyes, his smile carrying the peaceful expression of his face. Kyria pressed her fist against the fabric of her dress. She couldn't look at him.

"Well? What is it ?"

She blushed. Ashamed to confess her childish fight with her sister. Everything felt so foolish. So stupid to fight and fall apart for such a thing.

"I- I had a fight with Arya. She's mad at me."

Father moved his head slowly.

"I see…"

Kyria shrugged and looked back in the dark water, at her own sad reflection.

"Do you know why?"

"She doesn't like me spending time with Jon."

Father hummed and Kyria awaited the verdict. When he didn't say a thing, she dared to look up again. He was looking at her. Thoughtful.

"And I suppose the fact that your behavior changed with the accident doesn't help your case." he wondered smoothly.

The casual mention of her situation is everything she needs to let go of all her frustration and throw it right at her father's feet.

"It's not fair! Why would I have to stop spending time with someone just because I didn't do it before? I don't remember it! I don't want to become someone else! I am me! I won't force myself to be anything else and to do anything else than what I want to do! I'm not forcing Jon to stay with me! If she wants to spend time with him she can yell at his face! But it's not fair to blame it all on me!"

She's breathing fast at the end of her display. Her cheeks are red and hot and her head is spinning. Ned held his hand, and she took it, dragging herself close to her father. He pulled the large sword against the trunk of the tree and pressed her head against his shoulder. There, surrounded by the warmth of Father, Kyria felt the edge that knotted her muscles tense finally loosen up.

"It's not fair…" she whimpered against the heavy fabric of his tunic.

"I know Kyria. I hear you," he said softly, his mouth moving against her braided hair. "Nothing about your situation is fair and you shouldn't have to bow to what we think is normal to you. You are different now."

She nodded.

"Arya will understand that in time. You only have to be patient with her."

"Why should I be. She doesn't bother with me."

"Because you are older. And wiser than her." explained Father with this quiet voice of his, "You know things are rarely as simple as they look. Arya does not understand such things yet."

Kyria couldn't care less about what Arya could and couldn't understand. Why should she always be the one to worry about this?

Father stroked her hair once, slowly, then added:

"Your sister is angry and afraid of all the changes that brought your condition Kyria. Anger can make us do many things we regret later. We should always be careful and weigh our words when anger gains us. Never talk with your siblings when you are angry, Kyria. You could break something that can never be repaired."

"It's not me who needs to hear that Father…" she mumbled irritated.

The rumble of his laugh made Kyria's own chest vibrate.

"True, but there is no one else to give that advice currently, my girl."

She nodded. They were alone.

Father was comforting. More than anyone else on the keep. Or in the entire world, as she started to think.

She stayed with him the entire afternoon. He didn't talk much. But each of her questions were welcomed with an answer. Or at least every answer he was able to give her. When they left the Godwoods that evening, Kyria finally felt like she could stop searching endlessly for the answers to everything.

Father knew enough. And Jon was there to help her gain what she missed. Maybe, just maybe things would end alright for her.

Maybe…

TBC.

And done for now! What do you think?

As I said I am not sure about this one. I feel like Kyria might be a little bit annoying? I mean, it's kind of logic in the illogical teenage sense of the way, for her to act like that, but still...

I hope you like it.

Robb and Arya, what do you think? And Jon? I like this relationship he his building with Kyria. I hope you do to.

I'll try to update sooner but I've started working for the summer so I might not be able to have the advance I'm trying to have. I need to work on book 2 too xD

Hope you liked that!

Don't forget the votes!

Henrick Flint I

Duncan Wull II

See ya!