Winter Has Fallen (Game of Thrones)

Anthia

The morning had an odd crispyness to the air. Anthia Stark rode out with her father and brother into the woods. She did not know why they were going there, but Stejen Stark, her father and Lord of the Starks, had insisted she come with them. Her brother, Evanithen Stark, had hinted that they had found something rare.

Her pony clopped slowly along the green grasses. She was not old enough to have a horse yet, having only passed nine name days. Evanithen, however, was thirteen, close to his fourteenth name day, and had a very handsome grey-black stallion.

Anthia felt her pony slowing to a stop, and looked up from the grasses. At first, all she saw was a normal wood clearing, but then she saw them. Two young wolf pups, one jet black, one golden-white, were cuddled in a heap at the edge of the clearing. As Anthia watched, her father dismounted his horse, and stalked over to the wolf pups. Two guardsmen followed.

When Stejen was within a foot of the wolves, the black one looked up, and whimpered. Then, it turned its head around into the golden-white one's fur, as if saying, They won't hurt you. I won't let them.

Anthia had to admit, the pups looked horrible. Their ribcages showed through their fur, and the seemed smaller and more fragile than most wolves Anthia had seen. She wondered what had happened to their mother. Where was she? What type of mother abandoned their children to starve?

Stejen picked up the two wolf pups by their necks and held them up for the riding party to examine. That's when Anthia realized that they weren't wolves at all, but far more vicious, violent, creatures.

Direwolves.

Her wet nurse had told Anthia stories about direwolves. They were wild beasts, and would do anything to kill. Their snouts were always smeared with blood, and they would feast on anything: boars, humans, fellow direwolves, and even legandary dragons.

But these beasts didn't look anything close to wild. They certainly did not have snouts smeared with blood, and they had not tried to rip her father entrails out of his stomach. Maybe those stories were exactly as they were: just stories.

"These direwolves are what the dawn patrol found this morning. They asked to kill the creatures right away, but I forbidded them to. The direwolf is the symbol of the House Stark, and I will not be going off giving orders for my men to kill my House's symbol.

"The question is: what are we going to do with the wolves? I have thought that over while breaking my fast, and I have concluded that my children shall have them. No doubt that they will make some use of them." His gaze swept over Anthia and Evanithen.

One of Stejen's guardsmen stepped forward. He has long brown hair that swept down to his waist, and pale blue eyes. Ser Univanth, Anthia heard him being called. "My lord," he began. "If the stories of direwolves are true, I do not think it is a good idea to give these creatures to your children. Your children could be harmed, or worse, killed. Direwolves are vicious, I tell you. The stories say so."

Anthia's father looked amused. "'If the stories of direwolves are true' you say. What if they are not true? What if one day, a wet nurse simply decided to create a new tale? You can never trust stories, Ser Univanth. They do not hold the truth to life."

Ser Univanth bowed his head, then jerked it up just as quickly. "M'lord," he said. "You said you would give these two wolves to your children. But, my lord, you have five children and only two wolves."

"Ah, yes, Ser Univanth," Stejen answered as if he'd been expecting the question. "You see, I only brought two of my children here, have I not? Anthia and Evanithen are the two children that I wish to see the wolves to. Evanithen is the eldest of all my children, so one of the wolves shall obviously go to him. Although my eldest daughter is Dianik, I this that Anthia would be better with a direwolf that Dianik ever would. As to Oat and Trinton, they are a tad too young to have direwolves as pets. The matter is closed. Any other questions?"

Anthia had a question. She never agreed to having a direwolf for a pet. But then she realized that would be considered as a comment, not a question. She kept her mouth shut.

When nobody answered Stejen, he nodded in approval. "I want the direwolves treated to at once. Once they are well enought to run the width of a courtyard, I want you two," Stejen turned to look directly at Anthia and Evanithen. "to train them. Train them hard, and train them well. I expect them not to eat anybody living in the Castle of Starks."

Evanithen nodded at their father. "Than you, father. I promise you that the direwolves shall be trained well. Anthia and I will work hard to make sure of that."

Anthia forwned. She didn't know is taking a direwolf as a pet would be a good idea, like Ser Univanth said. Bu if Evanithen was accepting a pup, she didn't want to back down, either. "Okay," Anthia finally agreed. "But, Father, should we not name the pups first?"

Her father smiled. "Of course, you may. Evanithen, you are the eldest. Pick your wolf pup first and name it."

Evanithen looked at the direwolves for a moment then reached out and took the one with jet black fur. staring down at it, he said, "His name shall be Raven."

Anthia looked at the golden-white direwolf her father held out to her. She reached out and took the pup. It was lighter than she expected, weighing no more than the wodden sword she used in her swordfighting classes.

"Father," she asked. "is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, silly," Evanithen answered for her. "Thats why I gave her to you, of course."

Anthia looked at the pup carefully. Her gloden-white coat shone like snow, something in her wet nurse's tales. Snow was white stuff that fell from the sky above at a time called winter. Her wet nurse had told her that winter had never happened in thousands and thousands of years, ever since the beginning of the Dawn Age. Winter was apparently a cold, hard time. Crops did not grow. Winds were fast and freezing. And worst of all, many people died of the coldness.

Anthia was glad that summer was forever here. She did wonder how it must be to live in winter. Maybe one day, the gods would let them have a small taste of it. But her eyes focused on the direwolf again. Her fur white like snow. Then she decided that maybe the gods had given her what a taste of winter was. Then that shall be her name, Anthia thought. Looking up at Stejen and Evanithen and everybody else that had come with her father to the clearing, she said her wolf's name.

"Winter."

Anthia didn't know it at that time, but in that moment, when she said the direwolf's name, the winds stirred. Winter. Winter.

Winter is coming.