"Of Snow, Sea, and Shadows: Book 1" One Woman Keep [GoT]

Godswood

I rise early the next morning and don yet again my same dark attire. Some have tried to argue with me that I am a Lady and one should always wear a dress. But what use is a dress but to distinguish, besides if one were to run a dress would be caught in an innumerable number of things. It is colder today than previously so I throw on a cloak once again, it is thinner than my travelling one, but still keeps me warm. I take breakfast in my chambers, as so requested from last night; bread and a warm oat arrive on a pallet along with warm tea. My hand is still sore, and I seek the herbalist for some sort of balm to speed the healing. Although nearly frigid, the castle grounds are alive with activity. Guards flood in and out of the garrisons, horses whinny from the stables and maids rush about in their daily duties. I need some solitude to recollect my thoughts and my plan of action. Naturally, I head for the Godswood. I sit next to the tree stump that Lord Eddard Stark used to occupy. It seems empty and lacking without his presence. After coming into society again, now a leader of my people, I have a lot to consider. The Lannisters will learn shortly of who I am and my skills as an assassin; they are too smart to have me murdered when I could be of service to them, except of course that bastard boy-King Joffrey. Note came this morning from one of my informants that Lord Baelish of House Arryn and Tyrion Lannister ride for Winterfell, though neither will be welcomed too kindly. Baelish has always intrigued me, a master of words, as I am a master of the shadows. The duels of our shared words are almost like the ones between him and Varys, who is equally an intriguing, if not effeminate, man. The trees sway, almost in slow motion, and the water is still. I pick a fallen leaf from the ground and thumb the veins that run across it. Many will want my services and it is impossible for me to now fade back into nonexistence. At least the Baratheons will have no use to me, their R’hllor priestess Melisandre’s control and belief of fire over rules our likeness to the dark and shadows. I admit, I would not like to be sought after by any of the houses, but I had made my decision when I ran to Snow. I could have avoided this by just dying, but it is still not favourable; at least not yet. My biggest problem is the Lannisters. Cersei would want me dead, Jaime would try to lure me to a bed, and Tyrion would try to win me by guilt and truth. Not to mention their father Tywin who would want me on his war counsel. The trees rustled again and I pulled my cloak closer around my shoulders. A faint caw emanates through the Godswood and a crow lands on the stump I sit next to. Taking the message from its leg, I read that Baelish will arrive tomorrow and Tyrion three days hence. I have to face my demons sooner or later. I scrunch the paper up, satisfied the bird leaves, probably to one of my many bird keepers in the South. I do not turn when I hear the sound of leaves being crushed by boots and a figure sits next to me, subconsciously taking his father’s place with ease.

“Good morning,” he greets

“Good morning, my lord,” I reply

“Somehow, I knew I would find you here,” he says

“Where else would I be when I need to think?” I reply.

“The air grows colder,” he remarks, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth

“Mayhap it is because of the guests you will receive shortly. Did you know both Lord Baelish and Tyrion Lannister ride for Winterfell,” his eyes snap to me in both question and alarm.

“It is no worry, my presence would have been learnt of sooner or later,” I wave him off.

“Why are they coming?” he asks looking at the water, still distressed about hiding me.

“I do not know, I only have word that they are coming,”

“And you are sure they ride for Winterfell?”

“If not Winterfell, then where? The Wall?” I scoff; the thought of those two men even staying at the Wall humours me. Lord Commander Mormont would kill them himself; though he is not kind he is tolerable, but only to a limit.

“You shouldn’t-“ Robb begins

“You remember when I left. If I have survived this long by myself, I will continue to,” I cut him off, tiring of his worry.

“I don’t want them to kill you,” he turns to me know, eyes pleading.

“Nor I you,” I reply “So remember to hold that passionate tongue of yours,” his face instantly transforms from concern to humour.

“Passionate is it?” he asks

“Oh for the love of the Gods, don’t start now,” I complain, but I am already smiling. He laughs and momentarily forgets about his concerns.

“You know,” I begin “You are a King now, it feels… different to sit with you here, in this Godswood, alone,”

“Why, afraid the ladies will come sweeping in, clawing at you?” I laugh at this, both he and I know how ridiculous that sounds.

“Ladies or not, I’d kill them before they even know who I am,” he sighs and we sit in a moment of comfortable silence.

“My mother keeps telling me you know. ‘Get a wife Robb’. It all seems too much and I’ve rushed too many things,”

“You have long yet to live,” I say maintaining distance between us

“Do I?” he says almost sardonically.

“Yes,” I know the truth and that is it.

“I still have to uphold duties as a King, however. And I am certain there are innumerable amounts of noble men ready to marry off their daughters to the King of the North,” he almost spits the words, and I understand.

“It seems like the King of the North is a highly regarded man,” I remark glancing at him.

“Yes he has been, regrettably none of the Ladies whose father’s hands they give have proven more than just a beautiful cage. There is beauty in parts, holes in others, and empty within,”

“Powerful words from one so young. Pray tell, you aren’t trying to become Baelish are you?” I earn another laugh from him.

“Good Gods no.” We sit in silence once more until the sun is high in the afternoon sky and hunger whisks us to the Grand Hall. I hope news from the Eyrie arrives along with Baelish, though hope as I must, it is in vain I know. The Lord of Arryn reveals only what he wants and news about the Stark girls is highly prized information.