Lannister Blood

14 - A Stark of Winterfell

Long before the sun rises on the eighth morning, we've docked at a sharp edge of Northern Westeros. Directly between Ramsgate and White Harbor, where the defense is scarce and the woods are soon thick. Robb and I agree that the long way is our best bet, as we are more likely to remain hidden, especially with a large direwolf as a companion. We're both used to making camp wherever possible and lasting on minimal provisions, so I'm not necessarily concerned about that portion of the journey. Robb knows his way well, but things have changed in the North as of late. I'm worried about being spotted by one of the Houses, especially if the Boltons still hold power at Winterfell. Anyone who continued to swear fealty to House Stark has surely been killed if not imprisoned, and the remainder may have been forced to fight for House Bolton. I'm not sure how far we'll get without being spotted or how soon we'll have to fight, but I know we must head for Winterfell no matter the cost. I just hope the journey is not in vain.

We bid the Captain and the crew farewell and they supply us with all the food and drink they can spare and we can carry. I'm adorned in a grey fur and strong, black leather armor underneath. Heavy snow lies on the ground accompanied with a bitter chill in the air. I've never been more thankful for warmth in my life, for only my face suffers against the cold. I've never witnessed a winter like this one and, according to Robb, this one will be the longest and harshest winter yet. Jaime's voice rings in my head.

I hate the fucking North.

I smile a little at the memory. We Lannisters have never been fond of the cold. I suppose now all that's left to do is get used to it at this point. I doubt I'll be journeying back South anytime soon, though I suppose it depends on what the North decides to do with me once they figure out my bloodline.

My mind wanders to Tyrion and Jaime more than I care to admit. I realize that Jaime must hate me, knowing I had at least some part of play in father's death. It's possibly the only thing that hurts me about my escape from King's Landing. If I had only a moment to say goodbye, to explain why I needed to go and that it wasn't to abandon him after supposedly plotting a murder, perhaps our relationship could have been mended like he wanted. But I let my anger towards him kindle and barely gave him the opportunity to fix things between us. It's a connection I'll always hate myself for severing, I suppose. Another choice that I'll be forced to live with until the end of my days.

As for Tyrion, I wonder where his life has taken him. A part of me wanted to stay with him, at least for a little while. I had so many things I wanted to say to him. That I don't blame him for father's death, that I forgive him for his wrongs, that I wish we could continue our journey together. And now I fear that I'll never see him again. When I left him the note, there was so much more I wanted to include, but I knew there were no words I could ever find that would be enough. I hope he's alive and I hope he's in good health. Though, I must admit, a part of me often pictures him drinking his life away surrounded by whores and terrible jokes. But wherever he is, if he's truly happy, that's all that really matters.

Robb and I step onto the jagged rocks with our packs on our shoulders and Grey Wind close in step. He's far more nimble than Robb and I combined, and I often find myself admiring the breathtaking direwolf. There's a moment where I slip and Grey Wind stops my leg with his head, preventing me from losing my footing completely and falling into the arctic water. I have far better balance than Robb, however, as there's quite a few times his foot gets caught in a crevice below. It takes every scrap of control I have to hide my smirk.

Robb reaches land first, followed by me and then Grey Wind. I turn back to the ship already preparing to set sail further South. Captain Harrion sticks his hand to the sky in farewell. We wave back and I already miss the feeling of the spray of the sea on my face. I know Robb and Grey Wind are thankful to be on land once again. They definitely did not enjoy themselves on the ship, and I can't blame them, but I hope one day I'm able to sail again. Perhaps even have a ship of my own, if my fate grants me a far off future once I've completed this path.