•When The Wolf Howls•

•Chapter 7•

Word Count
••
4648
-when the wolf howls-

—🐺—

King's Landing was everything Rayna Stark had imagined—and nothing at all like what she had expected. The heat of the capital's streets pressed against her skin like a constant weight, and the heavy perfume of the court mingled with the scent of the salty air from Blackwater Bay. She had grown up in Winterfell, where the cold winds of the North were the only thing that held sway, where the crisp air seemed to clear the mind, but here, every corner turned seemed to bring another conspiracy, another whisper, another lie.

The evening was drawing to a close, and Rayna stood near one of the many windows of the Red Keep, watching the last light of the sun bleed into the horizon. Her father, Lord Eddard Stark, was meeting with the king in the chambers below. It was becoming increasingly apparent that something was wrong in the capital—she could feel it in her bones, the unease that had settled over the city ever since their arrival.

She had never been one for politics, not like her older sister Sansa, who was already learning the delicate art of courtly conversation. Rayna preferred the sharp clarity of the Northern winds, the simplicity of the stark reality she had known at Winterfell. Here, in King's Landing, everything felt murky, as though truth itself was obscured beneath a heavy cloak of secrets and treachery.

"Rayna?" Sansa's voice broke through her thoughts, soft but firm, like the touch of a winter's morning frost. "Father is asking for you."

Rayna turned, offering her sister a small smile. Sansa's blue eyes shone with a kind of earnestness, but Rayna knew the fear that lurked there. Sansa, so young, had already learned the cruel game of court politics far too quickly.

"I'll be down shortly," Rayna said, though she wasn't sure if it was more to reassure her sister or herself.

Sansa lingered for a moment, then nodded.
"He's been asking about you, Rayna. I think he needs your help with something."

"I'll go to him," Rayna replied.

When she entered the chamber where her father waited, the room was dimly lit by a flickering hearth. Eddard Stark sat at the large oak table, his face drawn and weary.

His steely blue eyes lifted to meet hers, and for a moment, the weight of his gaze softened, as if seeing his daughter brought him some semblance of comfort amidst the growing tensions.

"Rayna," he said quietly, his deep voice carrying the weight of an impending decision. "We need to talk."

She crossed the room and sat opposite him, folding her hands in her lap. There was no room for pleasantries, not now.
"I've been summoned to the king's chambers," Eddard continued. "There is much to discuss, and I fear the circumstances grow direr by the day."
Rayna leaned forward. "What's happening, Father? You've been more distant than usual since we arrived. What does this mean for us?"

Her father exhaled, as though the burden of his thoughts was heavier than any of the armor he wore into battle. "I'm not sure. I'm investigating Jon Arryn's death—and the king trusts me to uncover the truth, but I believe there are forces at work here that we are not prepared to face." He paused, his eyes narrowing as though weighing something. "And Rayna... there is the matter of your marriage."

Rayna's breath caught in her throat. It was not a question, but a statement. The marriage had been arranged long before they came to King's Landing—an alliance between House Stark and House Lannister, brokered through her father's wisdom and honor. Still, the idea of marrying Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, the man who had killed King Aerys II, unsettled her more than she cared to admit.