THE LONG WINTER - Sandor Clegane.

ch. seven - lord snow.

when i was a girl,                     i fell into your arms.     we
fell on hard times         —       and lost our bright colors.
you went to the dogs,               and i lived by my charms.

The south is no place for a wolf, Lyarra had come to realize. The moment that she had been advised to remove her furs, she began to take note of her own regret. Without them, she felt bare — open for all to see. She replaced them with clothing more suitable for the weather, but in doing so she had to remove her leather trousers as well. Thus, she'd had no choice but to remain on the carriage for the remainder of the journey — as riding her horse with a dress would have been all but impossible.

In all, the move was not the worst thing. She placed herself between her nieces, who still did all they could to avoid even looking at the other. Septa Mordane looked over her pleadingly, but Lyarra could not do much more than shrug. She had never met a pair more stubborn than the girls beside her. It almost reminded her of her own sister. She and Lyanna hardly fought, but when they did they would not speak to one another for days. Lyarra reached out to rub Arya's shoulder, who had only tensed at the touch.

Their arrival at King's Landing had become apparent by the foul scent that rushed through their noses. Winterfell did not often smell pleasant, as Lyarra was sure most cities did not, but it failed to rival to this. She contained her disgust with a grimace, leaning back only to cover her nose with her sleeve, as imperceptibly as she could. Arya, however, made no such move to contain it. She gagged loudly, to Septa Mordane's dismay. As the carriage came to a stop, Lyarra watched as her brother dismounted his horse. Jory followed suit, holding the reins of both his own horse, and Lyarra's. Frost bristled at his touch, but seemed to calm as he ran his gloved hand through the horse's mane.

"Welcome, Lord Stark." A voice declared, as a man approached Ned. As her brother took charge, Lyarra allowed herself to glance over the scenery. This was the furthest South she'd ever been. With each growing moment, she could only think of Brandon. How far had he and her father made it? The gory details had never been shared with her. Had he stood where she was now?

"Get the girls settled, I'll be back in time for supper." Eddard called out then, interrupting Lyarra's thoughts. In an instant, she was standing on her own two feet — brushing her dress down with haste. Ned met her gaze, nodding with resoluteness — a fact that comforted her only slightly. Jory guided the girls to their rooms, and only paused once Arya and Sansa had filed in. Septa Mordane followed quickly after the two, though she only lingered in Sansa's company.

"My lady?" Jory questioned, tilting his head to point in another direction. Lyarra nodded herself, and within a moment followed a step after him. Jory had been beside her family for years now, longer than she could properly recall. The two had only spoke to one another a handful of times, but she cherished the man for how he took care of the girls. They were silent as they came upon a wooden door — further from her niece's rooms than she would have liked. In an instant, Jory was gone — turning on his heel to head back towards the Stark Girls. As Lyarra entered the room, taking in the decor — she found herself once again longing to return home.

The quilt was thinner than she was used to, though she could not deny its comfort. In the corner stood a large stone window, with flowers littering the sides. It was a beautiful room, all things considered, and yet she felt more discomfort than she had in years. Before she could do much else, she was interrupted by a harsh rap at the door. Instantly, she relaxed. Eddard's presence would make the move easier. Only, as Lyarra swung open the door — she wasn't met with the solemn expression of her brother. Instead, a woman with dark hair and warm, tan skin — stood there, hands clasped with a timid smile. She couldn't help but furrow her brow at the sight.