Fire and Winter

Chapter 2

Alysanne placed her hand against the rough bark of the heart tree. She hated meeting new people. It always started pleasant enough, she had been raised with a ladies courtesies, but then people found out she was a bastard and the conversation always changed. Now it wouldn't be lesser lords or commonfolk she was meeting, but the royal family and their entourage that were coming to Winterfell.

Alysanne opened her eyes when a breeze ran through the red leaves above her, perhaps the gods answering her prayer? Alysanne had come to pray but found she had not much to say. What to pray for when all she wanted was her family to be left in peace. Alysanne was many things but a fool was not one of them. The king was coming to Winterfell for one reason, to ask her Father to be the Hand of the King.

With a sigh Alysanne ran her fingers through her direwolves fur, the little red eyed pup had grown fast, reaching up to mid-shin. Alysanne had contemplated the little pup's name for days, being unable to think of anything fitting. Most of her siblings, besides Bran, had been quick to name theirs. Jon's white pup, the twin to her own, he had named Ghost for his silent movement. Her pup was fierce but quiet, barely moved and liked to sleep. Eventually she decided on the name, Meleys, after the Red Queen, dragon of Princess Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was. The dragon was said to be lazy but fearsome when roused, fitting for her little pup. Meleys butted her head against Alysanne's leg, letting out a soft grumble when her hand stopped moving for a moment. "Sorry girl."

"Alysanne!" Jon's voice called from behind her.

"By the heart tree!" she called back.

Jon's footsteps came closer until he was standing beside her, his own direwolf running into Meleys and laying beside her. "They're here," Jon said. Alysanne sighed, rolling her neck. She stood slowly, brushing snow and dust from her dress and pulling her fur-lined cloak tighter around herself. She told Meleys to stay, as did Jon to Ghost. Jon took her by the arm and they walked back through the godswood in sync.

The people of Winterfell were already lining up in the courtyard. Alysanne spotted Lady Catelyn and Sansa standing near the front, joined by Robb, Bran and Rickon before her and Jon reached their place. Standing behind the children of House Stark, bastards would not be presented alongside the true-born children of their Father of course. Alysanne wasn't offended by it, she was used to it and it would mean she didn't have to pretend to be nice to the king or the queen. Thank the gods.

"Where is Arya?" Lady Catelyn's voice reached Alysanne's ears. She glanced around quickly. "Sansa, where is your sister?" Sansa shrugged in response. Alysanne thought back, trying to remember where she had seen Arya earlier in the day.

Arya came running from near the gate, a helmet perched on her head. When she passed Father he caught her arm and pulled the helmet off, revealing Arya's face. "Go one," Father said. Alysanne smirked to herself, catching Jon doing the same out of the corner of her eye. Arya took her place between Sansa and Bran just as the first horse came through the gate of Winterfell.

The visitors poured through the castle gates in a river of gold and silver and steel. First came a Kingsguard knight, dressed in the signature white of his order. Behind him Sandor Clegane, recognizable to Alysanne by his burned face. The tall boy beside him must be the crown prince, Joffrey. Alysanne saw Sansa look towards him and hold her eyes there for a moment. Robb saw too, if the way his face turned from their sister to the prince was any indication. Alysanne understood why Sansa was entranced, the prince was a handsome boy. With his golden hair and green eyes, cloaked in black and yellow, the colours of his house.

A wheelhouse followed behind some more guard, where the queen and her younger two children must be. A huge man, who could only be the king flanked by two knights in their snow-white cloaks, followed the wheelhouse into the courtyard. Father knelt and everyone in the courtyard who was not a member of the royal party, knelt too. Alysanne kept her eyes on the pale grey fabric of her dress, noticing slight patterns in the weave of the wool. There was the sound of the king dismounting, walking closer. Father stood and everyone followed. "Your Grace," Father greeted.