| CHAPTER EIGHT; The Favored Two | ———————————————————
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"When you are your fathers bastard, he will always find the perfect replacement, even if it means finding that replacement within a child whom is not his at all."
— Unknown
—
ORPHÉE WAS NOW THIRTEEN years old, Drakon fifteen years old. They were doing alright in the hands of Petyr, Petyr trusted Drakon more after seeing that he would protect Orphée and Sansa. It was as if Drakon was never a forgotten boy with no family, it was like he was a highborn as well. But, maybe he wasn't too far off? Just maybe. Petyr was just beginning to find out that Orphée and Drakon weren't just friends. Not that he cared too much, but he found it interesting.
The four were riding on their horses in front of a hoard of knights, they then walked up to a hill. To be met with Moat Cailin, just a ways away. "Yes, a bit shabby, isn't it?" Petyr asked absentmindedly. "You've been here before?"
"On our way down to King's Landing with my father, Arya, and Orphée. Where are you taking us all?" Sansa inquired boredly.
"Home." Petyr answered.
Sansa looked back at Orphée with slowly widening eyes. "The Boltons have Winterfell." She said, Orphée scowling. She had never liked the Boltons...her mind went to Roose Bolton, her cold, numb fists clenching. "Your marriage proposal, it wasn't for you...and it couldn't be for Orphée, she has not bled yet."
Petyr shook his head, "No." he smiled.
"Roose Bolton murdered my brother. Our brother. He betrayed my family." Sansa raised her voice, knowing she was to be married off.
"Those bastard lovers have never been on our side to begin with, Sansa. You'll do good to remember that." Orphée spoke coldly, glaring down at the withering away moat.
"He did."
"He serves the Lannisters."
"For now." Orphée was getting very annoyed with Petyr's short and careless replies.
"I won't go." Sansa insisted, shaking her head.
"Winterfell is your home."
"Not anymore."
"Always! You're a Stark. Dying your hair doesn't change that. You're Sansa Stark, eldest surviving child of Ned and Catelyn Stark. Your place is in Winterfell. You marry off to a Bolton, you and your sister have Winterfell back in the palms of your hands. Don't you want your deprived sister to be happy?" Petyr manipulatively asked Sansa.
