The journey was long and tiring, I spent the majority of it with Myrcella head on my shoulder and Tommen's in my lap. Thankfully they both slept soundly as we trundled across Westeros, I definitely didn't and nor did Mother. We both also felt the chill instantly as we passed into northern territory, the snow coated the landscape and the wind chilled me to my very core. I resented the way my arms prickled with cold and my nails turned an ugly shade of purple. In fact I resented the entire situation and longed for the summer afternoons in Kings Landing with my brother and sister.
"I wonder if Winterfell is grander than the Red Keep" Myrcella wondered out loud, scouring the almost pure white landscape for any sign of the great castle. Mother bristled opposite me, I glanced up and met her eye, she faked a tight smile and laughed.
"Of course not. The king lives in the most grand of castles in the entirety of Westeros" She explained, letting her smile falter slightly then returning to a placid expression.
"Is that it?" Tommen piped up, joining our sister at the window, I looked over and saw the enormous structure in the distance.
"I believe so" I replied calmly, suppressing my nerves and anxiety in order to keep my siblings composed.
"Ah well it is" Mother sighed, "About time", she followed with a sharp hiss.
"Oh you must fix your dress, little one" I smoothed the creases from my sisters travelling dress and Mother jumped into action, running her hands through Tommens unruly blonde hair.
The carriage wobbled through the cobbled streets and into the courtyard of Winterfell, it stopped abruptly and I watched from the window as Father and Joffrey rode past with the Hound, Uncle Jaime and several other members of the kingsguard, their white capes billowing out behind them.
Father paused and dismounted his horse with a loud grunt, as he walked away, Mother pushed us out of the carriage. I sent Tommen out then Myrcella, finally I emerged and took in the scene, taking my place beside my sister and letting my mother leave the carriage.
Winterfell was definitely old and definitely northern, the weather and the decor was evidence enough. People swarmed the courtyard, all trying to catch a glance of their king, soldiers and families alike. But at the front of the crowds were clearly the Starks, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell stood in the middle of the line, he was a tall broad man with a kind face. He had fought alongside my father during the rebellion, they were terribly old friends. Father approached him first, beckoning him to stand, he complied as did everyone else. The two men stared at one another for a moment, I could've cut the tension with a wooden training sword, then my father opened his big fat mouth.
"You've gotten fat" He grimaced, I held my breath and felt embarrassment flood through me as I saw the northern faces fall. There were a few awkward seconds before the two men collapsed into laughter and grasped each other in a tight embrace. The others smiled weakly, unsure of how to interpret the situation.
Father moved along to hug Lady Stark, Catelyn Tully, she looked incredibly uncomfortable and I didn't blame her. He proceeded to greet the various Stark children: Robb, he was a stern young man with a deep frown; Sansa, a beautiful girl but she only had eyes for Joffrey and I wished I could scream for her to run but instead I watched the young girl wish away her life; Arya, a small girl with big eyes and a burning desire to see my uncle; Bran, an adorable little boy who reminded me of Tommen and finally Rickon who stayed close to his mother and didn't make a sound.
I could make out some other faces in the crowd, Theon Greyjoy by his obvious resemblance to his father and uncle who frequently attended meetings in Kings Landing with the small council. A maester of course whose name I didn't know, clearly labelled by his robes and grey hair. Another young man of a similar age to Robb Stark, he must be the infamous bastard of Winterfell, his name was something Snow like all the others but I couldn't quite remember it.
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Ours is the Fury | Game of Thrones OC
FanficLya Baratheon is the oldest and only biological child of Cersei Lannister and Robert Baratheon, but unlike her younger brother she is kind and gentle, the epitome of a princess and is prepared for the day she is sent off to marry a young lord. But...