BLUE MOON ; Jaime Lannister

chapter one ; "pray,"

BLUE  M O O N

ᴄ ʜ ᴀ ᴘ ᴛ ᴇ ʀ ᴏ ɴ ᴇ - "ᴘʀᴀʏ."

297 AC. WINTERFELL.

WINTERFELL WAS A PRETTY PLACE; THOUGH NOT MANY PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT. The majority of the people living in Westeros, thought the North to be a silent and deadly place - the North had the most land, yet it had the least population in all of the Seven Kingdoms. That was because of the Winter, it was bad when the seasons turned cold in the South, but it wasn't as bad as the North. The North became freezing and desolate with snow, it would be simply impossible to survive without being prepared for Winter. But as always, Winter is coming.

The Jewelled Isles did indeed have a Godswood, but the Godswood in Winterfell was beautiful. Vegetation surrounded a small body of water, that fell before the mighty trunk of the white weirwood tree. The weirwood tree was pure white, with a few chips in the wood here and there; that revealed an even whiter wood, the leaves were a crimson red and moved as a light breeze drifted through the clearing. In the side of the weirwood tree, a face was engraved - a blood red face. Dead leaves scattered the ground - everywhere, it would be simply barbaric to try and creep up on someone in the Godswood.

Sat on a small stone, facing towards the direction of the tree was a young, blonde woman. Her hands were clasped together, her chin holding high into the air. She was murmuring words - praying to the Old Gods. A raven startled her; causing her icy eyes to open abruptly, it landed in the mighty tree above her. The young woman scowled at the bird, closing her eyes again; in an attempt to continue praying in peace. But the raven wouldn't stop squawking and eventually, the woman decided she'd finish her prayer later.

The peroxide haired woman stood, the flowers safely still embedded in her long braid - that she had let the eldest Stark girl, Sansa, do earlier. The woman wore a white dress, that just only touched the floor; around her shoulders, was a sapphire blue cloak with furs around the top that kept her warm. Catelyn Stark, originally Tully, had made it for her many moons ago - but, it still fit her nicely. Slowly but surely, the blue-eyed woman made her way from the Godswood, rubbing the dirt off of her knees as she did so. Her riding boots crunched the dead leaves nicely, it was satisfying.

It would only be a mere few hours (maybe even moments) before the King, the entirety of the Royal Family would be at Winterfell - as well as that, the rest of the Daemadar family would be arriving as well. It was agreed, that they (besides from Jenny) would rendezvous with the Royal Conjunction; then finish their ride together at Winterfell. Most of all the blonde haired woman was excited to see her brother, Anthor - who was recently made a member of the King's Guard at the young age of sixteen; only one other knight had done that. Ser Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. '

The mention of such a name made permanent goosebumps occur all the way down to the bottom of Jenny's spine, she shivered as a breeze flew through the seat of House Stark and the dire wolf banners groaned in the wind. An arm suddenly grabbed Jenny's and the woman jumped with slight fright, "There you are Jenny!" exclaimed Lady Catelyn Stark, whose auburn hair swished slightly. "I have been looking for you everywhere," sighed the older woman.