𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 [𝗥𝗼𝗯𝗯.𝗦]

5

THE WINTER WOLF

ALYSANNE was truly beginning to despise the jousting events that had quickly dragged her to the stands. She found little interest in them, but Sansa had taken to dragging her along. Why she had done so, Alys knew not. After all, Sansa and Alysanne had never been the best of friends. But stay she would, especially if her little sister desired it to be so.

She scoffed in derision as Ser Gregor bowed to the King, they all seemed so silly to her. Alys often thought blood sport such as this should be kept upon the battlefield.

"Where's Arya?" Asked their father, Alys shrugged in an uncaring manner for she didn't know much on Arya's disappearance. At least she gets away from this misery they call a sport, she thought rather glumly.

"At her dancing lessons," said Sansa until she began to lean forward in excitement. "The Knight of the Flowers!"

Alys scoffed, "what is he wearing?"

Sansa scowled at the foul words that kept tumbling from her sister's lips. In truth, they weren't foul but in the mind of Sansa, they were an insult to a well known knight!

Alys blinked in surprise as the Knight gave her a flower with a soft smile upon his lips. Despite the odd clothes in which he wore. There was goodness within those eyes of his. And that was of high importance to the young Snow.

"Thank you," she whispered, sniffing it ever so delicately. He truly was a gentleman, Alys had to shake such thoughts from her head before she began to swoon. Gods forbid! I shall never!

Ser Loras bowed respectfully to the young woman before he rode away, he is kind, she thought. And that was that, nothing would change her mind upon the matter.

"Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," begged Sansa, her bright blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. Staring wide into the eyes of their father.

Alys frowned, patting her hand softly.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," she said.

"Hey," murmured Eddard. Hoping to reassure his soft hearted daughter, but in truth, it did little. Alys could hardly blame her, for the size of Ser Gregor was rather daunting.

"I can't watch," muttered Sansa.

Much to the irritation of Alys, she couldn't help but flinch at the cruel chuckle that slipped from Lord Baelish's tongue. It was quick witted and cold.

"Hundred gold dragons on the mountain," he smirked as if he could taste the very victory of gaining a few more coins. Not that he lacked any, most Lords had far too much.