The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ARYADNE - XXVII

ARYADNE WOKE IN her own bed. She recognised it instantly — the silk sheets, the floral perfume. Save for the candles dotted around the room, it was dark. Music drifted in through the open windows. She laid still and waited to recognise the melody, but realised there was none, only the monotonous ringing of bells and the beating of drums.

She rose with an ease that she had not known for some time. The noise grew louder with each step she took towards the balcony. Her hands braced against the low stone wall as soon as she was close enough. At this time of night, it was impossible to see the bay. This time, however, she saw light. One speck at first, then more and more behind it; tiny lanterns dancing on the water like swarming fireflies. They were coming closer.

"They come to kill the King."

There, watching the scene beside her, was Ned Stark.

"Which king?" she asked. Her voice didn't sound like her own. It was younger, softer, disconnected from her body in a way she could not place.

"They come to kill the King."

He never said anything else. Nothing but the same three phrases. Impatient, she grasped him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. A line marked his neck, a deep gash that cut all the way around. Dried blood and severed flesh hung loose. She could almost see to the bone. That was not the worst part of him. It was his eyes. They pierced into her, a clouded grey. The look was one she knew too well from all her time in the infirmary. They were dead.

It didn't scare her as it should have. He appeared to her most nights. This was the first time, however, that they had met somewhere other than the Sept of Baelor.

"You keep saying that. You keep warning me. Why?" A thought came to her, dreadful enough to spur her on, at last eliciting an emotion from her numbness. It was a thought that terrified her. "Is it Robb? Is he in danger? Please, Ned. Please, you must tell me!"

Those empty, lifeless eyes fixed on her with a new intensity. "The child must not be harmed," he replied after great deliberation.

A burst of light stung her eyes. The lanterns were gone and a new brightness took their place, green flames raging on the water's surface. It spread quickly. Soon, the fire surged up onto the banks, over the buildings and even the walls of the Red Keep itself. It moved like a tidal wave, engulfing everything.

She watched it rise towards her. Her eyes shut tightly.

Sunlight filtered through the fabric ceiling. Blinking up at it, she felt fear wash over her, there one moment and gone the next. It was just another nightmare.

A weight on her chest prompted her to look down. A mop of auburn curls met her eyes. Robb had taken to sleeping like this ever since she told him about the baby. He would lie his head over her heart, only because he was too scared to lean against her growing bump. His fingertips drew lazy circles over the skin. The sound of his voice, lowered to just a whisper, caught her attention. She listened as she always did, expecting the usual nonsense he uttered as he dreamed.

"What do you think?" he was saying. "I bet you'll look like your mama. She's gorgeous... though I suppose you don't know that yet."

Her mind went blank with confusion. Surely he wasn't doing what she thought he was doing. His tone only confirmed it, however. His voice always softened when they were alone together, but this was to a new level. She could do nothing but listen and try to quell the tears of happiness threatening to fall.

"I can't wait to meet you. I have so many stories to tell you. I'm no Old Nan, but I'll do my best. You'll know all about your family, don't worry. There's so much to tell you. And when this is war over, you're going to meet all your aunts and uncles — you'll meet Bran and Rickon, and Sansa and Arya. And when Uncle Jon becomes a ranger, he'll visit whenever he's able."