Whispers of Winter

- The Mare and the Maiden -

WHISPERS OF WINTER 

Chapter One

The morning light filters softly through the trees as Elara Stark makes her way across the courtyard, the crunch of snow underfoot barely registering in her mind. Her thoughts are far away, as they often are, wandering through the quiet corners of Winterfell. The castle buzzes with anticipation for King Robert's arrival but Elara feels only a gentle detachment from it all. To her, it's another day, another series of duties she'll perform with her usual grace, unaware of the weight others place on the event. 

As she reaches the stables, a stable boy struggles with a stubborn mare, trying to lead the horse out for the morning's tasks. The animal, spooked by something unseen, refuses to budge, pulling against the reins with a snort of frustration. 

Without thinking, Elara steps forward. Her presence is calm, soothing and the boy looks up, startled to see her. She smiles at him, a soft, kind expression that immediately puts him at ease. 

"Let me help," she says gently. 

The boy, nervous in the presence of a Stark but unable to refuse her, hands her the reins. Elara approaches the mare slowly, whispering words of comfort. She strokes the horse's neck, her touch light and reassuring. Within moments, the mare relaxes, the tension melting away. Elara's kindness seems to flow effortlessly, a natural part of her that draws others in without her even realising it.

"There now," she murmurs, leading the horse forward with ease. The stable boy watches in aw, grateful but too shy to say anything more than a quiet, "Thank you, my lady." 

Elara smiles at him again, then hands the reins back, completely unaware of the admiration in his gaze. To her, it was a small act, something anyone would do. She doesn't see the way her kindness leaves a mark on those around her, how it makes her presence in Winterfell a quiet force for good. 

As she continues through the stables, she finds herself by her own mare, the black-coated beauty she's always felt a special connection with. Stroking the horse's muzzle, she lets her thoughts drift again, unaware of the eyes that follow her. 

Robb appears at the stable entrance, his footsteps heavy with purpose. He watches her for a moment, seeing how easily she moves through the world, untouched by the anxieties that grip him and the rest of the family. He knows she's kind, endlessly so but it's her aloofness that troubles him, the way she seems detached from the reality of their world. 

"Elara," he calls out, approaching her with his usual tone. "We need to be ready for the king's arrival. Father's expecting us all to be there." 

She turns to him, her expression serene. "Of course, Robb. I'll be ready." 

He hesitates, the words he wants to say caught in his throat. He knows she means well that she'll do what's asked of her but he can't shake the feeling that she doesn't grasp what's coming but how can he make her understand without shattering that gentle, kind spirit of hers? 

"You'll...you'll need to be cautious," he says, his voice quieter now. "Things will be different with the king here. "

Elara nods, though the seriousness of his words doesn't fully register. She smiles, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, her touch light and reassuring. "Don't worry, Robb. We'll all be fine." 

He looks back at her, at the kindness in her eyes and can't bring himself to push further. He simply nods, accepting her words as the best he'll get. As he turns to leave, he glances back, watching as she returns her horse, completely unaware of the unease she leaves behind.