Episode one: A Cold Whisper {Game of Thrones} (COMPLETED)

Beck

Very long chapter guys... I'm just done with the flashbacks and wanted to get em all outta the way - enjoy!

*Flashback*

The thick, red liquid left a shockingly vivid stain on Wylla Manderly's cream coloured dress.

She cried and cried, even when Beck was sure she had ran out of tears, she cried more. Wylla held the limp body of her dead sister in her arms. She didn't let go. She would never let go.

"Wylla," Beck whispered to the sobbing young lady, "she's gone..."

She continued crying.

"There's nothing we can do, we have to get her back to New Castle..."

Wylla remained silent.

Beck approached her slowly and crouched down beside the shaking, shivering body and the pale, motionless one.

"Wylla...?"

Wylla looked at Beck with glossy eyes, "my sister's dead."

She burst into tears once again.

------------------------------------------------

"Wynafred? Dead?"

Lord Wyman Manderly roared, his mouth hung open as though his jaw had broken as he stared at the dead body in Beck's arms.

Beck's throat was tight and sore. He held back a sob and nodded his head. The muscles in his arms cramped up with Wynafred's weight but he couldn't bring himself to lay her down. He held onto her.

The overweight Lord was speechless.

In the great hall of New Castle, sat at the end of the long table in the centre of the room was Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, Warden of the White Knife, Shield of the Faith, Defender of the Dispossessed, Lord Marshal of the Mander and Knight of the Order of the Green Hand. On his right, was his eldest son Wylis Manderly, Wylla's father, who was bawling like a child beside his quaking wife Leona Woolfield. And finally, on Lord Wyman's left, was his second born son Wendel Manderly, who sat frozen, pale as the white snow that lay on the grounds of White Harbour, indicating winters approach.

A couple of Manderly guards that were stood around the room came across the hall to Beck and took Wynafred from his grasps. Beck walked closer to Lord Wyman, keeping his gaze low.

"How?" boomed the fat Lord, spit flew from his gob as he spluttered the single word, "how?" he repeated.

Beck looked to Wylla, who was staring at the ground below her, no longer crying at all, her pale face was emotionless.

"She took an arrow through the neck... there was nothing we could do..."

Beck lowered his gaze to his feet as Lord Wylis' and Lady Leona's weeping became louder.

Lord Wyman paused, the veins in his head throbbing with rage before asking his final question, "who?"

The silence in the hall was like a deadly poisonous gas, seeping through the walls and travelling the length of the great hall, all the way from Lord Wyman at the top of the table to red headed Beck who stood, hands clasped, at the bottom, staring into the Lord's eyes with sorrow.