The Songs of Winter | Robb Stark

Prologue

10 Years Ago

In the dim hours before dawn, the chill that seeped into the House Song of Coveyland was the first indication that something was amiss. I roused from my slumber by the tremor in my mother's voice, her urgent whispers cutting through the silence like a blade. "Aida, darling, wake up," she murmured, her hands shaking as she gently shook my small frame.

Blink away the remnants of sleep, I peered up at her with groggy confusion. "Mama, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice tinged with drowsiness and innocence.

Terror flickered in my mother's eyes as she gathered me into her arms, her touch both fierce and tender. "Hush now, Aida. We must be quiet. Do as I say and do not make a sound," she instructed, her voice trembling with fear.

I clung to her tightly, sensing the gravity of the situation despite my young age. The air around us crackled with tension, a foreboding presence that settled heavily upon my shoulders. Through the haze of confusion, I could hear muffled sounds outside our home. Voices, harsh and unfamiliar, mingled with the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows, casting eerie shadows across our castle. My father stood resolute in the face of danger, his expression a mixture of defiance and resignation. In that moment, the world seemed to blur around me as chaos erupted within the confines of our sanctuary.

I watched in horror as shadowed figures descended upon us, their intentions cruel and unforgiving. The metallic tang of blood filled the air as the unspeakable unfolded before my innocent eyes. Screams pierced the morning stillness, merging with the cacophony of shattered dreams and shattered lives.

My mother's desperate plea for mercy echoed through the walls, a haunting melody of despair that tore at my heart. I clung to her tightly, my tears mingling with hers as the world around me crumbled into darkness. In those fleeting moments of terror and loss, I was forced to confront the harsh reality of mortality, the fragility of life laid bare before me.

But everything turned on its head as the monsters that would be living in my dreams for years to come started falling one by one, their screams now echoing through the walls as I hide under a table.

As the final blow fell, I felt a hand grasp mine, pulling me away from the brink of oblivion. Through tear-streaked vision, I saw a figure emerge from the shadows, a beacon of hope in a sea of despair. Lord Stark stood before me, his gaze unwavering "Come on little one." he said lifting me into his arms, shielding me from the horrors that threatened to consume my very soul.

In the safety of his embrace, I felt a sense of fleeting comfort, a glimmer of light in the darkest of night. As we fled the scene of unimaginable tragedy, my heart heavy with grief and loss, I clung to the hope that one day, justice would be served and the memory of that fateful day would not be forgotten. For in the depths of despair, there lies a flicker of resilience, a spark of determination that refuses to be extinguished.