Lives Intertwined

Under the Surface

Hi everyone! Just for reference, the ages of the kids are as follows . . . Dany and Jon (9th grade, 14 years old), Rhaegar (12th grade, 18 years old), Robb (11th grade, 17 years old), Viserys (10th grade, 16 years old), Sansa (6th grade, 12 years old), Bran (9 years old), Arya (10 years old), Rickon (6 years old)

"Daenerys, don't dilly dally," Rhaella said as she breezed around the kitchen, fixing up a cheese plate, "What type of food do they like? Crudites? Maybe I'll use that swedish meatball recipe from your grandmother."

Daenerys fixed her hair, making sure each strand was in place, "Calm down, Mom. It'll be fine." Rhaegar entered the room, carrying a bag full of ice. Rhaella opened the freezer with her free hand.

"Rhaegar, honey, fix your shirt."

Rhaella was an infamous party host. Back in Los Angeles, her dinner parties were well known around the community circuit.

. . . . .

"Sansa, I swear, if you don't come out of the bathroom in five seconds, I'm going to kick in the door," Arya yelled, her face close to the wooden door. In a blink of an eye, it swung open. It would've hit Arya if she wasn't accustomed to Sansa's dramatic exits and didn't know to quickly move away.

"Happy now," Sansa responded, still pulling her hair up into two braids.

Downstairs, Robb was bundling Rickon up and Bran was pulling on his snow boots one by one.

"Jon?" Robb called to the kitchen, "Do you have the flowers?" Jon grabbed the bouquet of blue winter roses from the kitchen island before walking to the doorway, "Right here, Robb." Grabbing the keys, Robb continued, "Good. Flowers are the least we can do. Can you make sure Arya and Sansa don't kill each other up there? I'll take Rickon and Bran and meet you in the car."

With a nod, Jon went up the stairs, two by two. Rows of pictures decorated the walls, all of Catelyn's doing. "Sansa, Arya, we really need to go."

"Don't look at me," Sansa said, appearing at the top of the stairs, "I'm all ready. It's Arya who is taking forever," to which Arya immediately responded from behind the bathroom door, "She's lying. She's the one who took an hour in here. I've only been in for a minute, I swear."

Jon chuckled. It was never easy with these two. The door opened, and Arya stomped out, wearing sneakers and sweats.

Sansa eyed her as if she just disrespected everything holy in this world, "What on earth are you wearing?" She looked at Jon, "Tell her to change. She's going to embarrass everyone."

"Sansa," Jon began, "We really don't have time. It's fine. Let's just go." Sansa let out a huff before dramatically walking down the stairs, deliberating making each step louder than the previous.

"Unbelievable," Arya mumbled before running down the stairs, sliding past Sansa, and dashing out the front door.

Jon walked down, pulling a scarf off the coat hanger and placing it around Sansa's neck.

"It doesn't match," Sansa said, immediately tugging at the strings.

"Frostbite doesn't match either," Jon refuted, gesturing towards the car, already packed with the Starks. Sansa scrunched her nose, before hopping in the back seat, defeated. Jon 1 Sansa 0.

Jon closed the front door behind them, locking it before he jumped into Robb's car.

"Maple Street?" Robb asked, to which Jon nodded. Robb backed up, careful not to hit the mailbox. Catelyn was still mad about the last time.

"I don't see why we have to drive. The walk is only five minutes, ten minutes max," Arya argued but no one answered.

. . . . .