TABULA RASA ⊳ S. CLEGANE

( .001 ) A FEAST OF LIONS AND WOLVES

     ( EPISODE ONE )

               "DO YOU REMEMBER," I said, brushing the auburn hair of my younger sister, "just a few year ago, how you would kick and scream when Mother paid less attention to you? Especially after little Arya came." Placing my head on her shoulder, I bent forward to look at her reddening cheeks as she recounted the past. "It seems like just yesterday, and yet you are becoming more and more a woman with each passing day."

               Sansa turned in her seat to face me and placed her hands on my knees, beaming. "Oh, quiet, Emie," she said airily. "I am no more a woman than Bran is a man. Not like you, anyway." I smiled at her comment, finding no need to be too modest in her company. 

               "You are both still girls." Mother teased as she took over Sansa's hair, fixing it for the banquet being held for the king. 

               Sansa stared into the bronze mirror, turning her face in both directions to get a good look at herself, huffing in frustration. "Do you think Joffery will like me?" she whined, laying her chin on her cuffed hands. "What if he thinks I'm ugly?"

               I embraced her softly in order to not dishevel Mother's work, laughing at her childish nature and needless worrying. Mother laughed as well while braiding Sansa's hair in two parts. "Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived." Sansa rolled her eyes and sighed.

               "Mother is right. I have to say, you are the prettiest girl in all of Winterfell, with Mother a close second, of course." Our banter was interrupted when a serving girl entered, summoning me to Robb's side before the banquet. As I stood, I kissed both Sansa and my mother on the heads, bidding them goodbye. 

---

               Robb opened his chamber door, inviting me into his room. I sat comfortably at the edge of his bed, eyeing the serving girl who attempted to tie his garments together. I stood, laying a hand on hers, and offered to take her place in tying it. She stepped away to give us room, busying herself with tidying up his discarded clothes. 

               It was wrong to have favourites among siblings, but Robb had always been the most dear in my heart. Maybe it was because we had grown up together, playing and learning at one another's side three years before Sansa was even born. Jon had been born the same year as Robb, but Mother preferred the two of us not to play with him often, so we never bonded as well as Robb and I had. 

               Tying his clothing appropriately, I noticed the tenseness of his muscles. "What troubles you, brother?" At my question, I could fell his breathing hitch slightly as if he had just been caught stealing sweets from the larder. 

               "How are you so calm?" he asked. "The king and his litter will feast at our tables tonight!" 

                "Oh, he's a stag and they're cubs! You're a wolf, Robb, bare your teeth." It was true, the king was a larger man, though he possessed the least threatening stature I had ever seen; his wife, on the other hand, had eyes like a lioness. 

                Robb drew back his lips to show an awkward grimace. "Stop it," I say, pushing his shoulder away as I finish the tying his straps. "The banquet will begin shortly. I'm sure father would like us to be in attendance before the king."

                He began to laugh under his breath as he escorted me through the halls. "With his size, I'm sure that won't be hard to accomplish."

---

               The banquet hall was filled with the laughs of drunken men and the whispers of their wives. Arya and Sansa sat across from one another, while I sat near my lady Lissa. "Have you seen the beast of a knight that follows the boy prince?" she asked, not daring to say it louder than a whisper in my ear. 

               She motioned with a small movement in the direction of Joffery. Behind him stood the beast she spoke of; he was hard to miss, casting a large shadow over the prince's shoulder. Burn marks streaked across the side of his face, and his eyes surveyed the surroundings closely. I made sure not to look too long.

               I knew who he was, had heard the stories of the one they called the Hound. He was a cold man who had been burned by his older brother as a child. Septa Mordane had used his story as a warning when we were but children. I recalled the feeling of pity I had upon hearing about the incident, unsure of how anyone could speak ill of a man who was just a poor child. However, seeing those burns left a feeling of fear seeping over me in that moment. 

               "He is quite a large man, I'll admit." Lissa giggled at the understatement.

                Our conversation slowed as we watch Sansa approach the queen with a shy smile. From where we sat, it was impossible to hear their conversation, though it was obvious it went well despite it being brief. It was hard not to be proud watching her. Graceful and beautiful, all while being just a child. 

               Arya was the same, albeit less graceful, which she proved by not hesitating to throw food into Sansa's face one she returned to her seat. Mother shouted to Robb to remove her from the hall, and I followed in suit. 

               "I'll take her from here, Robb," I said, taking her hand and leading her to her room. "It seems it's bedtime, little one."