Winter Has Fallen (Game of Thrones)

Anthia

        Anthia was stuck inside again. The soft plitter-platter of raindrops on her bedroom windows filled her room with a steady rhythm she could swing Orange to. Left, right, up, left, down, right, left, left, up, right, left, left. Anthia cursed under her breath as Orange knocked an unlit candle lamp to the floor. Winter growled, and pawed over to the lamp, investigating it more closely.

        It had been raining for three full days. Although some of her daily lessons were moved indoors, most of them were to be cancelled until the rain cleared up. Anthia wondered if the rain would clear up. She missed her swordfighting lessons, even if she was required to have a stunted, wooden sword instead of Orange. 

        Anthia had been in her room alot, with the door locked and the curtains drawn, to swing Orange around and around again. She wished Evanithen were here. He would've been able to duel with her; they could go down into the dungeons and practice sword-fighting for hours at a time. But Evanithen was gone, almost for three weeks now, and so were her wishes.

        Anthia's thoughts crept back to when Evanithen had first given her Orange. "Promise me that if youo have to end this, use the sword." His word still rang in her ears every night. She had promised him that, but why did she? Why did she promise him something when she didn't even know what the promise was about? 

        She bagan to swing Orange again. Around and around she went. Left, right, left, right, up, right, down, up, left, down. Not until Winter nudged at Anthia's heels persistantly did Anthia realize that it was past noon, and she should be heading to lunch.

        The hall were meals were served was long, and held the faint scent of cats. There were small wooden tables places throughout the hall, but in the middle was a twenty foot long elegant one, reserved just for royalty. Anthia made her way towards that table, Winter by her side.

        She took a seat in between Oat and Trinton, and Winter slinked under the table to join Abyss. Anthia helped herself to some bread and pasta, then plopped a large chunk of ham on the ground for the wolves. 

        There was very small talk at the table today, which Anthia thought quite unusual. She turned to Oat and asked why it was so quiet. "Father," he answered. Stejen Stark was not present on the throne he usually sat. "Where is he?" 

        Oat shrugged. "I suppose up in his bedchamber. Or at the toilets." Anthia glanced at her right, where Trinton sat quietly, eating a thin slice of garlic bread. "Trinton," Anthia said quietly. "Did you see Father today?" Trinton shook his head silently, and Anthia muttered a curse under her breath. She had wanted to ask Stejen something, something about her brother, Evanithen.

        Standing up from the table, Anthia swept a long gaze over the hall one last time before she beckoned Winter to follow her, and walked out of the hall towards her father's bedchamber. When she reached the stair that led to it, she saw that two guards were stationed at each side of the stair. "Excuse me," Anthia said politely. "I wish to see my father."

        The guard on the left answered with a low, gruff voice. "But your father does not want to see you. He is in...major distress right now. He told us specifically to let nobody, nobody at all, up to his room."

        "He will make an exception," Anthia shot back. What were they talking about, her father at major distress? "I am his daughter. I can see him whenever I wish." The man on the right grumbled something quietly, then said out loud to Anthia, "I am sorry, lady, but we must obey the Lord's commands. You are not to visit him."

        Anthia felt the hair on her neck rising in anger. "I will see him!" she cried, glaring at the guardsmen as hard as she could. "And I am not a lady! Do not  call me that!" Then man on the right bowed. "As you wish, my lady."