The Daughter of Winterfell |The Tale of Alys Snow

Chapter Three: Wolves of the North

It had taken no time at all for Alys to return to the castle. She had ridden Sweetfoot as fast as the horse would allow, the wind and her own hair slapping Alys in the face as they galloped. Alys loved this when riding a horse- the rush and the feeling of almost flying. It was the closest she could imagine to riding a dragon like a long ago Targaryen.

The guards at the gate saw her coming, standing aside as she went through. She swung down from Sweetfoot's back with practiced ease, barely waiting for a stablehand to take the reins.

The courtyard was alive with activity and chatter. In the middle stood Lord Eddard Stark, looking as if he was regretting many things. Surrounding him, playing with what at a first glance could be confused for regular pups, were the Stark children playing with direwolves. The wolf pups were young, very young. Young enough that the could not have been weaned off their mother's milk.

Alys immediately felt her heart melt, giving a high pitched coo as she approached. There were seven pups- Seven, for the New Gods, thought Alys- and she dropped to a crouch as she reached them.

"Hello, darlings!" she said, the only thoughts in her mind being about how adorable the pups were.

"Hello to you too." Theon deadpanned, looking as if he had swallowed a lemon.

Alys ignored him, stopping and looking at the scene in front of her as reason tried valiantly to step in.

Bran was leaning over one of the wolf pups, cradling the small creature like it was the most precious thing in the world. Robb stood nearby with another pup—larger than the others and play biting at Robb's fingers with it's milk teeth. Rickon toddled around in circles, chasing his own little ball of fluff, one with particularly wild fur. Sansa held a notably smaller pup that was very calmly leaning into Sansa's arms as she pet it. Arya's pup was happily hopping up and down as Arya played with it, it refusing to leave her side.

Jon stood apart, cradling two pups, one in each arm. One, quiet and nestled into Jon, was white, white as snow and bone. It had blazing blood-red eyes and an intense yet calm expression on it's face. That's Jon's, Alys knew, knew a if it had been written down in stone.

The other pup in Jon's arms squirmed, giving a warbling yowl as it tried to wriggle to freedom. This one was pitch black, it's fur black and fathomless. It's eyes, as it met hers, were ice blue, the blue of a frozen lake. The moment it saw her, it temporarily stopped it's fighting, looking at her with it's captivating eyes. It then immediately began thrashing again, but not for freedom, no. It wanted Alys.

Jon, as if he sensed what the pup wanted, wordlessly handed the black pup to Alys, a smile on his usually serious face.

Alys took the pup carefully, as gently as she could. Almost immediately, the pup's yowling stopped, it making a snuffling noise as Alys cradled it to her chest. It felt like it was made entirely of fur, the body beneath fragile as glass, bones like that of a bird. But Alys knew that time would make this fragile creature into a terrifying beast. And she loved it with her entire heart.

"It's beautiful," Alys whispered, feeling the sting of tears in the back of her eyes. She gently bounced on her feet, as if rocking a baby. Which was not too far removed from the truth.

The pup seemed to understand the depth of Alys's feelings, for it brought it's snout up to Alys's face and began licking at her mouth and nose. Alys giggled, one part disgusted, but many parts completely in love.

"Looks like she's chosen you," Jon said, his tone warm.

Alys gave a cursory glance to the pup, humming in agreement. Jon was right, it was female. "I think she has. And you, what about you? That little albino one is obviously yours."