Hi guys! I'm sorry I'm a bit late, but I had a bit of trouble in my actual life that I couldn't ignore...
I thank you all for following me and taking the time to comment my work. I hope you still enjoy it.
Shade: thank you as always for taking the time to share your opinion! I do try to have as many scenes with Ned as possible. Arya's problem is a little bit more complicated than that... but Jealousy does have a thing to do with it. I hope you will like this chapter!
Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this chapter and I'll see you down there!
Chapter 7: Siblings
The second week of the Fifth month of the year 297 a.c
Winterfell
Lord Eddard Stark
Hm.
Familiar sight.
Ned rested his arm against the flat of his sword and watched.
Kyria sat curled up on a flat stone, looking at the pool. Oblivious to everything but her reflection in the pool.
Ned's chest clenched, as a powerful wave of bittersweet nostalgia crawled into his heart. As he looked at her, curled on her rock, half-hidden behind her hair, a book long forgotten on her lap, he let himself drift back into memories.
He could see her shrink before him, change into the little girl she used to be, with her thick braids and huge eyes, practicing her letters next to him, trying to be grown up and proper, while still enjoying the peacefulness around her in her own way.
She used to come here all the time, to play with Robb and Jon, or later with Arya. To seek Ned out, or explore on her own. She was also the only one coming to the Godswood when she was upset. She had never been interested in the Faith of the Seven. As she had with all of their children, Catelyn had introduced it to the girl when she was barely old enough to understand, praying with the babies still in her arms. But Kyria had found the Godswood to be the place she needed in times of distress and confusion.
Since the first time she toddled on it, she never again put a foot on Catelyn's Sept. It gave no comfort to her.
Kyria hated things she couldn't understand, and the Seven and their rules had always been a mystery to her. She used to be very vocal about her opinion on the subject, and to this day he could still hear her protestations, while her mother and Septa tried to teach her the greatness of the Seven and their songs. She was adorable then. Whining and pouting her way out of the discussion.
"You used to spend a lot of time here when you were a girl," he said almost absently, " from the time you learned how to walk."
She looked up, her beautiful mother's eyes reflecting the light of the shy sun, and Ned allowed himself this moment.
"You never liked the Seven. Never saw the point of praying songs to have favors when you just had to run into the Godswood to pray to the Old Gods." He smiled at her perplexed expression. "You came as often as you could. When you were upset, we all knew where to find you. You would sit on that very rock, curl around yourself, and watch the pool, until someone came looking for you."
She looked down at her hands, confused.
Ned watched her, guilt gripping his heart. He couldn't help but blame himself for her pain. He knew there was very little he could have done. He wasn't there when she first fell, and nothing would have been able to predict such a fate. But to see his child suffer every day, with her memories lost, her place in their family shaken… nothing compared to that.
The worst part, though, was this wall she seemed determined to build around herself and her pain, that separated her from the rest of them. He didn't know how to get past that, nor did he want to force her into talking about something she wasn't ready to speak of, but he desperately wished he could help her. Ned had always had a special relationship with his first daughter. He was never really at ease with the girls, they were too fragile for his overly large paws. But Kyria had been different. Seeking him out even when he avoided her for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing and potentially hurting her. He had this impression of sharing something special with her.
He'd hoped this would help her to explain what was bothering her. To talk to him, but she never did.
He had hoped she had finally opened up when Jon started to spend time with her.
He had heard every single argument about this development. From Catelyn, how dangerous it was for Kyria's fragile mind to spend all this time with her bastard brother. From Robb and Sansa, how odd it was for them to spend all this time locked up in the tower. From Arya, how unfair it was of her sister to monopolize Jon that way. But despite those arguments, he had welcomed the change. He had hoped that Jon's gentle nature would ease his daughter's worries.
Unfortunately it was not to be. Which could explain why she was curled up on her rock, staring into the pool as if it held the answers to all of life's problems.
He did not know what happened. Robb and Jon were back at spending most of their time together. Arya was overjoyed to spend all her time shadowing them like she used to do, completely unaware of the long looks Kyria sometimes sent them. As for Sansa, she was stubbornly resolved in a strong silence that weighed on her big sister like a death sentence.
Frankly put, she was pouting.
Only Bran and Rickon were able to get close enough to their oldest sister to gain any kind of reaction. She was always kind to them and seemed to be especially inclined to the youngest with whom she spent most of her evenings.
Catelyn didn't seem to mind, only happy to have her girl away from "the bastard influence" but Ned was worried. It wasn't good for her to be all alone like that. Their last conversation was still clear in his mind.
Ned wished he could do something about the discord between his children, but there wasn't much he could do. It was their mother's place to handle such matters. But then again, when one of his children came to him, who was he to refuse them his help?
"Well then, do you want to tell me?"
Kyria blushed and looked down. She opened her mouth, closed it, and played with her hair.
Ned didn't mind. He was a patient man.
"It's stupid."
Ned just raised a brow. "How so?"
She huffed, frustrated. "Everyone is mad at me."
Ned kept a straight face with difficulty. To her it was a tragedy and the importance of the moment shouldn't be ignored…
But she was adorable, pouting on her rock because she had a fight with her siblings. And painfully young. To have such worries as the most dramatic things ever happening to you…
"And I don't know how I'm supposed to face them now…" Kyria added uncomfortably, when he kept his silence for too long.
Ned stroked a thumb over the pommel of his sword, trying not to smile. "And why is that?"
"Because they are all mad at me!" she repeated, more strongly now. "And, and I was horrible and I did everything wrong and I drove everyone away and it was all my fault and-"
"Kyria."
She stopped. Took a deep breath and moved on her rock, gripping the folds of her skirt around her knees, eyes glistening with her worries. "I feel so… stupid," she confessed in a squeaking whisper.
Ned frowned but already she was talking again.
"Robb, he wanted to help me and I didn't want to listen. I was selfish and I took Jon away from everyone else because he was helping me and now they all hate me and I hate myself for it and I don't know how I'm supposed to face them now…" her eyes were wet and shiny and Ned had to look away to stop himself from grimacing.
Ned prayed to the gods she wouldn't start crying. He was useless to women's tears.
As he waited for her to regain her calm, Ned stood from his usual spot beneath the Heart tree, sheathing his sword as he did and moving to go lean against the larger boulder near where she sat. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to be near her.
After a time, Kyria rubbed her face and looked down onto the pool. "They are all mad at me now. Even Sansa."
"What happened with Sansa?" he dared ask.
She shrugged. "When we talked, I thought… there is so much she doesn't know yet. So much she is fooling herself with..." her voice faded in the soft wind who breezed through the high branches of the Godswood. "And I realized… Who am I to accuse her? To scold her like that while I-" She struggled for words again, voice and body stiff. "I was no better. I'm no better. Why should I scold my sister for acting exactly like I am, while fighting Robb when he dared accuse me of the same thing?"
The leaves whispered around them, and Ned watched one blood-red leaf go past him and float around his daughter, falling to catch against her hair as she continued watching the pool.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to any of them again."
Ned did not roll his eyes, though he dearly wanted to. Such dramatics… How odd was it to suddenly realize how young she was, still. He tried not to think of the time when those great tragedies will be nothing but fond childhood memories. The loss of their innocence was going to be an awful thing. For all of them. He hoped it would come as late as possible. "Kyria," he said gently, "you are young, and there are many things changing around you. No one can blame you for being emotional when so many things don't make sense anymore," he started, carefully measuring his words.
Blue eyes blinked up at him, huge and round, and Ned's heart stopped as a single tear escaped one of them. She quickly wiped it off and looked away, as if either ashamed of her tears, or knowing he found them a greater danger than any enemy.
Ned moved to kneel by her side, left hand holding his sheathed sword back and out of the way, as his right came forward to cup her cheek.
He remembered the first time he'd held her, right after the Rebellion. When everything was still so confusing for him. Having this little thing placed in his arms, with the knowledge that it would be his duty to protect her… The weight of it had been incredible. Far more than with Robb, or even Jon. For this one was his daughter. His first daughter. His little girl to protect and shield from this world that killed babies for wars that did not make sense. For Power. For a chair made of swords.
He had been so afraid he would break her. He was still afraid every time he held them close. Like now, her sweet face in his large hand.
"Kyria, no matter what happens between you and them, they are your siblings," he said solemnly, "Nothing will ever change that. When everyone else fails you, you will always be able to count on them. And I know they will be able to count on you, too."
Kyria nodded, and Ned allowed himself to pull his little girl closer, so her head was buried in his chest, and he did not need to look at the dangerous tears gathering in her eyes.
"If you fought, if you were wrong, or if they were wrong, nothing will move until you make the move to talk to them. You decide how you want to see it happen. You and your siblings. No one else should tell you how to love your family."
Kyria nodded and pressed her face against the leather of his doublet. He let her stay there, enjoying the peace growing in his heart, a gift his beloved Godswood and the weight of his child in his arms bestowed upon him.
"How should I do that?" she asked softly. "How do I talk to them again? They won't let me approach."
Ned sighed, amused.
He knew his boys. Proud and as useless when confronted to their sisters as he was. Afraid of their tears and shivering anger. Robb in particular seemed utterly unable to deny them anything. Ned honestly couldn't say what was funnier, his proud firstborn shivering in fear when confronted with Arya's anger and very cunning revenge, him being completely powerless to Sansa's sweet voice and even sweeter eyes, or shrinking like a frightened turtle against Kyria's verbal lashings.
His poor distressed girl might not see it, but, just like her sisters, she had her brother wrapped around that pretty pinky finger.
"Maybe they are as scared as you, to take the first step," he offered with a smile.
Kyria sniffed, going still against his doublet's front.
"Maybe you should show them the brave girl I know you are."
She looked up at him, and, after a moment, nodded slowly.
Ned smiled and stroked her hair once, standing to move back to his usual place, and gesturing for her to follow.
She did, and as she sat snugged against his side, he smiled down at the book cradled in her hands.
"Now what is this?" he asked gently.
Immediately, her face lightened. She promptly opened the book and started babbling excitedly about it. Ned listened patiently, basking in that privileged moment with her, as she shared her passion with him.
She stayed against his leg, her long hair pooling around his knee as she happily argued about the opinions of the book.
He wished he could have more moments like this.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOThe fifth day of the second week of the Fifth month of the year 297 a.c
Winterfell
Kyria Stark
She was ready.
She was going to do it. She'd thought about it a lot. Who would be easiest to talk to first, to start with?
It was an easy choice. Sad, maybe, but easy.
She waited for a quiet afternoon. Calm and peaceful. She took her time, choosing carefully the dress she wore, a dark green one she knew had been done in their sewing lessons, and watched patiently as Maerys took even more time braiding the upper part of her hair tight on the crown of her head. The rest of it fell in long curls all the way down her back, hiding the laces of the dress and the seam of the full skirt. With warm boots and a shawl of thick wool on her thin shoulders, she walked around the keep.
The place was large, even without counting the Godswood, around which the entire keep had been built over the thousand years since Brandon Stark thought about Winterfell for the first time.
It took hours to walk around every tower, every structure. She did it before, quite often in fact. The stables, the barns, the guest houses, the servant quarters, the Library Tower, the old keep, the broken Tower, the barracks...
It was like discovering it again every time she chose to walk around. There was always a new corner to explore. A place, forgotten in the centuries. She would have gladly lost herself in another mindless wander around her home.
But she had a task to accomplish.
Finding Sansa around the keep was harder than she first thought. She couldn't say if it was intentional or not. But if so, her little sister was more cunning than she gave her credit for.
Kyria was not sure how to feel about that…
It took close to an hour to find her.
She was in one of the Glassgardens. Under the lemon trees. Father had ordered a little bench there for their mother when she was pregnant with one of them. Sansa probably. That girl loved her lemons.
The place was lovely, green, and lively, a nice change from the grey that surrounded the Keep most of the time. Or the white of the snow. As enchanting as Winterfell was, even Kyria couldn't call it colorful. She could understand why Sansa, fascinated with anything related to the South, would enjoy this place so much.
"Sansa?"
The younger girl jumped, gripping the fabric between her hands. Her back went stiff as a board, and her head twitched, but she refused to look behind her.
"Can we talk?" Kyria asked.
The head of red hair bobbed after a short hesitation, and Kyria took it as a yes. She sat next to her, and carefully arranged her skirts around her legs. Sansa had her eyes back on her hand, and Kyria guessed this conversation wouldn't be easy.
Easier than with someone bullhead like Robb or Jon, who promised a massive headache when she would undeniably confront them, but still. Not easy.
"I wished… I wished to apologize." Kyria started slowly.
Sansa blinked at her hands, but otherwise did not respond. Pretending she heard nothing.
Kyria sighed. She wasn't going to make it easy was she?
In times like this, it was hard to miss the resemblance between her two little sisters. As opposed to they were in everything else, they shared this stubbornness. This desire to make people pay for any wrong done to them. The way might not be the same, but the need came from the exact same place.
"I shouldn't have talked to you like that. It was… inconsiderate of me."
Sansa nodded. Well.
"I am… not really feeling well recently and I- sometimes I wonder if I really have a place around you."
At least that caught her attention.
"And the way you act, the way you pull yourself away from everyone else… I feel like I am trapped and when you talked about it with me it sounded so… Unfair."
"Unfair?" squeaked Sansa dropping all pretense of not listening.
"You have no reason to feel the way you do," said Kyria before the girl could protest. "You know them, have known them all your life, love them, are loved by them. There is nothing, nothing Sansa that can stop you from being their sister except yourself. I lost my memories, all the things we experienced together are lost forever to me. I don't feel like I will ever belong among them. Not the way you all belong together."
Sansa had nothing to say. The girl simply blinked and looked down at her hands.
"But…" she began at last, "I am not like them. They are always so… messy and loud and– and me, I am not. I don't like playing in the mud or being outside or riding a horse or… It's not proper. A lady shouldn't do those things."
Kyria sighed and carefully chose her next words. She had messed up there last time. She couldn't do that again. As Father had advised, she took a deep breath and counted to five in her head.
"Sansa… Do you dislike all of this because it is something you feel, or because you were told to dislike them to be a good lady?"
"But Septa Mordane said-"
"I know what Septa Mordane said," Kyria interrupted before the younger girl could start ranting about everything Speta pushed into her little head. "And I know how much you listen to her, Sansa, but tell me, don't you sometimes want to do things that Septa doesn't approve of? Don't you want to have fun? To do what you please without thinking of what Septa or even Mother would think of you?"
Sansa stayed silent.
Kyria watched, her mind spinning as Sansa's face morphed with her line of thinking. Her eyes blinked, her mouth twitched and pushed as if to try to drag words out while confusedly organizing them. Kyria took this opportunity to gather her own wit.
There were a lot of things she wished to say, not necessarily in any kind of order and now that she was talking to Sansa, she realized how much harder it was to make sense in the confused mess that was her mind right now. She didn't want to push too hard too fast, but she felt the need to say something anyway.
There was no doubt that hearing what Kyria wished to say was going to be hard for Sansa. She was Septa's shadow and beyond everything else, Mother's creature. Her entire life was twisted around the idea of the South and its wonders, fed by Mother stories or Septa's lessons. And of course the disdain both ladies often failed to hide for the North and its wildness couldn't have helped warming Sansa up to home and the differences it had with the South.
Gods, why was talking so hard…?
Her father's advice pushed its way forward in the mess of her thoughts and Kyria took a deep breath. She could do this. Think before you speak Kyria, think of the words and the way you want to be heard, understood. She was going to do this right.
"Courtesy is a lady's armor," she started with as much confidence as she could muster right now, "I think those are the correct words."
Sansa nodded. "Septa Mordane says it a lot."
"Indeed she does. Sansa, tell me, don't you feel safe with us?"
Sansa blinked owlishly.
"I- why would you say such a thing?"
"I always assumed that wearing armor was something men did when they felt threatened. So I thought maybe it would be the same for you…"
"I- Septa said a lady's manners should be impeccable in every situation."
Kyria nodded and pinched her lips together.
"Yes, but if a lady's manners are her armor, why wear it when there is no need? Father said something like that to me the other day. He said family will always be family. No matter what happens in our lives, we will always be able to count on each other. I like to think that when everything else fails me, you all will be there for me, and I would be the same for you, because we are a family, above everything else."
"Family, Duty, Honor," mumbled Sansa.
Kyria smiled, hopeful. "Yes." More confident now, she carried on with her line of thoughts. "Do you think that I am a lady, Sansa?"
The question seemed to insult Sansa. "Of course you are!"
Kyria felt a smile play on her face. It was pleasing to hear. And flattering, from Sansa. "Thank you, but you can not deny I am not acting like a proper lady all the time as you do."
And wasn't that the truth?
Sansa blushed, her eyes lost in the space between them. Kyria waited for them to come back to her before carrying on with her line of thought.
"If I, while not acting like a lady every day, can be considered as such, why couldn't you too?"
Sansa seemed conflicted.
"I-I don't want to be like Arya."
Oh. Oh my. Another bag of needles she didn't want to poke right now.
"How would being yourself make you like Arya? You would be Sansa. That is all that you need to be."
"Just Sansa?"
Kyria nodded.
"Nothing else."
Sansa looked down at her hands again. Knuckles white from gripping the fabric too tightly. Kyria waited patiently, hoping this introspection she seemed to have would allow some of Sansa's immense potential to finally show it's colors in something other than Septa or Mother's teaching
"I think I understand what you are trying to say…" admitted Sansa after a long moment of silence. "But there's still… What if- I mean, After I marry, you won't be THERE. I will be in the South, and with a new family… Septa said the South is very different, and that if I want to have a place down there I need to be without reproach."
Oh, gods. Married life now.
"Yes, you will have to leave Winterfell one day, just as I will, and Arya, and probably Bran or Rickon."
Where was she supposed to go with that really? She only knew her own fears regarding marriage.
"What I do know is that for now, you are not going to leave. And if maybe later the need of wearing armor could be more pressing, now is not the time. Your courtesies are perfect, but they keep everyone away and I think, maybe this is the reason why you feel the way you do."
Sansa frowned.
"But Septa Mordane said-"
Oh for gods sake-
"I know," cut Kyria, "and I am not saying she is wrong. On the contrary, this is a very important skill you are developing. And I have no doubt it will have its use in your life when you are married maybe. But for now, you are safe Sansa." She hesitated on the next part, maybe it was too much. Unfortunately, the words were out before she made the decision to voice them. "In the world, we live in, these moments of blissful innocence may be the safest you will experience. Once you said your vows, be it in front of the heart tree or in a sept, you will never be able to find such safety again."
As she feared it would, her words upset Sansa.
"Kyria! This is not a proper subject for a lady! We shouldn't discuss this."
"Oh, no one would know it's only us here Sansa."
"But-"
"Besides," she carried on, before Sansa could protest any longer, "I think it is sane to ask yourself those questions."
"What questions? I am not supposed to question the decisions Father will take for my future it is not proper for me to-"
"But Father would listen to you if you wished to voice your opinion. Like he does with Mother. What I wonder is, would your marriage be the same as Mother's and Father's? Can you be absolutely certain of your husband's character or even his family? I always wondered… What if someone in my husband's family wished me harm? How would I defend myself? Would I even be able to do anything about it? Would you?"
"This isn't a proper subject of conversation," squeaked Sansa with a heavy flush on her face. Her eyes were alarmingly shiny and Kyria almost cursed herself.
This was getting out of hand. Deep breath Kyria, think of your words, think of what you want her to understand. This isn't about you, it's about Sansa.
She breathed slowly, counting from five to one in her mind.
Kyria forced her arm to move and gently grabbed her little sister's hand in hers. Sansa all but jumped at the unexpected touch and she realized it may very well be the first time she did that intentionally. And how sad was that?
Kyria tried to blink away the wave of guilt crushing within her already knotted stomach and tried to push her face into a smile.
"You are a very well-mannered Lady Sansa, we all know it, maybe for now you should focus a little bit more on finding who you are beyond that? You'll have all the time to think of the future later."
Sansa nodded and gripped Kyria's hand tighter. It felt good.
"Besides," she added after a short silence, "everyone here had known you since you were born. They won't judge you if you are less than perfect from time to time."
The discussion ended there.
The girl looked lost and small on her bench under the Lemon tree. Kyria held her hand for a long time, the time she needed to think, to assimilate what had been said. She allowed her eyes to wander around her, admiring the vibrant green of the plants. Then, when Sansa dropped her hand, she smiled one last time and left, allowing her sister the time to face her reflections.
In truth, Kyria was too nervous to stay in one place for so long. She knew this had been the easy part and what was awaiting her would in no way resemble what happened with the sweet Sansa.
For now, she had to go to her brothers….
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOIt took her far too long to talk herself into confronting Robb and Jon. An entire day agonizing over a way to approach them. Was she supposed to talk first? Or to let them talk and wait for the perfect moment to- To what? She didn't even know what to say…
They haven't even looked in her direction since that day. How was she supposed to open a dialogue if they didn't even pay her any attention? She had pushed them away after all. It would be understandable if they didn't want to bother with her problems anymore.
No. She had decided. She needed to act on it. Father encouraged her. He was sure. She had to be the same.
As she quietly observed them both train in the yard, surrounded by soldiers, Theon, and Ser Rodrick, she gathered all the courage she could manage, to take that final step that would allow her to come out of the shadows and into the yard. And the focus of everyone present.
She had been there for a while already. But she hesitated still. What if…
Jon had been her main support since the day she revealed everything to him. What if all of this madness drove him away? What if it had nothing to do with that fight? She had been harsher to Robb than him after all, and nothing had really indicated that he would leave her alone until he did. Or at least she didn't feel so. What if he just grew… tired.
She was spiraling into a full-blown panic when Jon's head turned. His dark eyes found her in her corner and she stopped breathing. He stopped Theon's sword with his own and turned around. It was impressive, and Theon looked furious to have been stopped while Jon wasn't even looking in his direction. The two of them argued for a bit. Then Robb came between them and talked too. She was too far to see the expressions on their faces or to hear what was said. The boys moved around a while, talking and making hand gestures in various directions. Then Theon left, followed by Ser Rodrick, not long after. And both remaining boys looked in her direction. She expected something more but they kept talking, looking back at her from time to time. She didn't like that. She knew they were talking about her. It was obvious. It worried her. Part of her brain couldn't shake off the idea that they were bad-mouthing her. All her insecurities surfaced again, confronted with the idea that people were having a conversation about her without her. It couldn't be for good reasons.
Her heart was drumming in her chest as both boys looked at her again. Her feet were glued to the muddy floor and she had to hold on to the hard wall of the old keep to keep standing.
Finally, they moved. In her direction. Her leg shook. Were they going to talk to her? To walk away without a word? She couldn't say which one was worse.
"Kyria."
Her breath stopped. Talking to her, then. Alright. Alright. She tried to pull herself back together, chasing away the blinding panic inside her head. Deep breath. In and out. This was not what she had planned. But then again she had not planned that well to begin with.
Kyria swallowed nervously.
"Robb."
They looked at each other. Kyria's heart grew in her throat. Next to them, Jon looked tense and very uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and playing with the seem of his sleeve, his thick curl hiding most of his face as he seemed suddenly very interested in the toes of his boots. She tried not to fix any of them for too long. Things were awkward enough as they were.
"We are going for a ride this afternoon. Come with us."
Kyria blinked. Jon shifted awkwardly and toed a lone rock in front of him. Robb stubbornly kept looking into her eyes.
A ride?... That was it?
But-
...This was not what she expected. She couldn't say why but suddenly, she felt her entire face heat up embarrassingly. She looked down awkwardly and tried to make sense of all of this.
Why a ride? Why go outside the keep to have the conversation they knew they needed to have?
She thought about asking Robb. But she didn't have the courage. So she nodded and watched as his shoulders relaxed immediately. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked at Jon. Then back at her. His mouth twisted into an attempt smiling and he left. Jon was silent on his heels.
...A ride. Maybe they could talk then?
Kyria pushed her back against the wall, confused. She felt strange. Robbed somehow. She had expected… more when she finally talked to them. Not that. Anger, resentment, stubborn eyes judging her. Not… whatever that was.
Oddly it made her apprehend the afternoon even more than she had that morning.
She prepared for the ride in her room, changing her deep blue gown for something more practical. The dark brown wasn't as flattering for her complexion and made her look sickly, but at least it was comfortable. Well worn and warm. And with a skirt wide enough not to bother her legs while riding.
Jon and Robb waited for her in front of the stables, both of them holding the reins of their horses. As soon as she came close enough to distinguish more than their silhouettes, Kyria anxiously looked away. She didn't feel capable of looking at them right now. She was far too nervous for that. They didn't talk as she took her own horse from the stableboy who bowed to her.
Again, Robb moved first, with Jon, apparently, content to merely follow his brother's lead. Not that she could blame him as she too, climbed her own mare at her brother's cue.
They walked through the front gates. The heavy drawbridge between the two massive walls was open. It was like this most of the time in Summer. Kyria had never seen it in any other way. She wondered how many men were needed to close it. The bloody thing must be heavy.
The horses stayed calm through the passage of the many people who visited the keep every day. Some looked at them with awe on their faces. It always made her a little bit uncomfortable, that deep respect those people had for her family. She could understand it when it came for Father or Mother, who were the Lord and Lady of the North. But for them… The only thing they had for them was the Stark name.
She wondered if she was the only one feeling the pressure of such a name on her shoulders. Sometimes she felt like she was. But thinking like that would have been a little bit egocentric to her taste. She had had enough of that for at least a few years.
Soon enough she heard the boys' horses running full gallop. She followed them, her eyes locked between the ears of her own mount.
The wind hit her face, awakening something inside her. It felt good to be on a horse again. She hadn't realized how much she needed that. She almost closed her eyes in the bliss of the ride. Her mare's strong muscles moved between her thighs. Carrying her confidently.
She expected, nay, awaited a conversation, but they remained silent, content to ride quietly under the cold wind of the day.
Too soon, the bliss of the experience faded in profit of the anxious energy that plagued her since she had decided she needed to talk to them.
Maybe she shouldn't have said yes. There clearly was no talking. Why did they even propose that ride? Away from the keep and from everything else? On paper, it was the best way to have a calm, quiet conversation. But what was the point if they didn't talk?
As she was busy torturing herself, one of her brother's horses trotted closer to her. She tensed immediately, her eyes still locked on the point between her mare's ears.
"I'm sorry," grunted Robb, before Kyria could spiral into another fit of panic.
She blinked. Robb grunted again, sounding very uncomfortable.
"I- Jon said he was helping you with something. Linked with your... memories. I shouldn't have been like that."
"Like what?" she asked numbly.
He paused.
"You shouldn't have to tell me anything. I shouldn't have insisted as I did. I don't know what it feels like to lose so much."
Kyria didn't understand everything that was happening. Why was he apologizing? Wasn't she the one who did wrong? Who pushed them away? She was confused…
"And I shouldn't have called you selfish when we talked," she spied his head moving from the corner of her eye, "It was… wrong. To talk to you like that. And you were right I wanted to know and-"
"Robb," she cut him.
Silence. His eyes were on her but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. This was surreal.
"I-I was wrong too, I know it. I shouldn't have pushed you all away like that. I wanted to... Or, I didn't want to talk about it and to- to- to think about it."
She wondered if she should talk about it. The words were in her mouth, but she hesitated. From the corner of her eyes, she could almost see Jon's heavy cloak floating behind his back. The sight moved something inside her head. Kyria looked away.
She rubbed her head with a frown.
"I'm sorry too…" she said, finally.
Robb nodded slowly. He stopped his horse next to hers and grabbed her hand.
"I shouldn't have said all those things."
She shouldn't have either.
"It's just-I- It's still difficult to... to remember that things are different. I was used to..to the way things were before... before."
She bobbed her head, a stray lock of her twisting itself under her chin as she did so. She pushed it away annoyingly. Maybe she should have thought of tying them before going out for that ride…
"You were always telling me everything. Before. And I know you are different now. I know it's impossible to go back to how everything was before." Robb babbled, "I'm really sorry Kyria…"
She tried to smile. Hearing about her accident was always difficult. But she couldn't ignore it either. There had been a life for her before.
"I understand."
Robb smiled.
The tension was still strange between them, the weight of her secrets almost palpable. Jon's horse's hooves loud in front of them, hitting the dirt in rhythm. Her heart twisted in her chest and she dared look up to the powerful legs of the beast, galloping away from them. Why did he come with them if he insisted on ignoring her? Maybe he didn't want to talk to her. Maybe she didn't want to talk to him either.
This was too confusing. Her head started to hurt and she didn't feel strong enough to deal with Jon and the reasons he might have had to ignore her. Maybe it was her cowardice talking, but she didn't want to think about it.
Maybe Robb felt the heavy atmosphere, for soon enough he was clearing his throat, ready to talk again.
"Wanna race?"
Kyria blinked.
"Race?"
Why?
"Why would we race?"
"Why not? See which one of us is faster on a horse."
The idea was strange. And forced. As forced as the cheerful tone in Robb's voice. But a race… The wind on her face, the freedom of the full speed of a horse… She never had the occasion to truly enjoy something like that. She was curious.
"Alright."
Before any of it could start to make sense to her, the horses were running, faster than she ever had been.
She blurted a laugh, intoxicated by the sheer freedom of it all. Her heart was loud in her chest, as she closed her eyes. It was amazing.
"Faster Kyria!" laughed Robb behind her.
She looked up, without thinking, finally allowing her eyes to find the large silhouette of her brothers.
Mistake.
KING IN THE NORTH
WE KNOW NO KING BUT THE KING IN THE NORTH WHOSE NAME IS STARK
KINGINTHENORTHKINGINTHENORTHKINGINTHENORTHKNGINTHENORTHKINGINTHENORTHKINGINTHENORTH
You lost the war the day you married her
He said I will follow the King in the North
Northnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorthnorth
KING IN THE NORTH
"KYRIA!"
WhitewolfwhitewolfyoungwolfyoungwolfyoungwolfyoungwolfyoungwolfyoungwolfyoungwolfwhitewolfwhitewolfwhitewolfwhitewolfWHITEWOLFYOUNGWOLF
"Kyria!"
KING IN THE NORTH
Snow
Sand
Never been
My child
THE KING IN THE NORTH
THE KING IN THE NORTH
Ice and Fire
Promise me
"KYRIA!"
She shouldn't have looked up.
TBC.
NOTE: So, what do you think?
I kind of like this one. I really wanted to add a scene with Ned and Kyria. I love him and I feel like we don't see enough of them together. And it helps painting his character a bit more.
The scene with Sansa was hard to write. I tried to tone down Kyria's teaching/ranting she tend to do but I don't know if it was really successful...
What do you think? And Robb and Jon?
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did ^^
I take this chance to remind you that I opened a discord server whose links follow. I hope to see some of you there.
/ecSvarzV
As I was a bit late this month you might end up with another chapter on the 30th of September! If I manage to do everything I want to do by then which I very well might. I hope.
Anyway, don't forget to comment, love and share this story around you if you want. Those are my only salary and I always enjoy talking with you about what you think of my work.
See you soon!