The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ARYADNE - VII

EVER SINCE THE FIRE, the Library Tower had been closed off. Only the bottom was burned and its stone fabric remained unaffected, but the pine door had been reduced to cinders. Aryadne crept in when no one was watching. The stairs spiralled around the edges of the room, the bannister blackened and completely gone in some places near the bottom.

She ascended up into the high ceiling, emerging onto the first floor. The stairs continued along the walls much further into the levels above. The room was open and circular, spanning across the entire level. Four arched windows let in the sunlight as dust-sparkled beams. Two crescents of double-sided shelves, affixed with desks, faced each other, bordering a central table covered in old parchment and quills.

Perusing the shelves within the circle, she tried to lift a particularly heavy volume. It came away from the shelf with a clank. Fixed to every book's spine was a chain linked to the point in the shelf on which they lived. She carefully returned hers and searched for a more relevant title.

At least an hour passed, and though she was beginning to regret her meagre breakfast, she continued to explore.

"Not allowed here," a little voice spoke up.

She peered around the shelves to find a little boy standing at the top of the stairs. His mop of curls was still fair with youth but he had his father's stormy grey eyes. At his side stood a grey wolf. She raised an eyebrow in warning. "Neither are you, Rickon Stark," she said, though her sternness faded at the sight of the tear tracks on his rosy cheeks. "But I won't tell. Does anyone know you're here?"

He shook his head, removing his thumb from his mouth long enough to say, "Bit the maester."

It didn't surprise her. She knew the boy had a wild streak. Beckoning him over, she moved along the bench to allow him room. He struggled to pull himself up, being a little too small, but managed without help. With his light hair and quiet staring, he reminded her of her youngest brother, Tommen. She took care to speak gently. "Did you get into trouble?" He nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, he shook his head. She really wasn't sure what to do with him. Despite being the eldest of four children, she had never had many conversations with them and was completely clueless as to how one should address them. Shifting awkwardly, she cleared her throat. "I was in trouble a lot when I was younger. Half the time, I didn't know why. Do you know how I calmed down when I was really angry about it? I took a book and I hid away in a little corner, so tight I could barely move, and I read and read until I didn't feel so upset. I suppose that must be why I've gotten through so many long books. Do you like reading, Rickon?"

This time, he removed his thumb from his mouth, wiped it on his trousers and gave Shaggydog a good scratch between the ears. The wolf panted happily and scratched at its side, shedding a cloud of hair. "No. I'm still learning."

"Still learning? How old are you?"

With a toothy grin, he held up six fingers.

"Six! You're six and already starting to read? You must be very clever."

His giggles were like music. She could not help but laugh with him. They sat for a little while, with Shaggydog rolling in the dust at their feet like a pig in mud, playfully yapping at the boy's dangling feet. Aryadne stood, brushing off her skirts. "You must return soon, or people will worry."

He pouted and crossed his arms. "No."

"No?"

"Shouty."

Sighing, she knelt before him. "That must be very upsetting. Next time you're angry, can you do something other than bite them? I think Maester Luwin might need some time. People don't like being bitten. Can you... count to ten? Or give Shaggydog a belly rub?" After another nod, she stood and offered her hand to him. "Come," she said. "Would you like to be with Robb instead? I am sure he can put his work aside for a short while."