Of Stags and Lions [Closed]
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							<h1 class="p-title-value">Of Stags and Lions [Closed]
	
	

	

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					<div class="bbWrapper">It was far colder than the woman atop the red horse expected it would be. Leora Reyne, known to everyone in the group as Alysanne Farman, found herself shivering beneath the silver cloak she wore. The silver fur at her neck at least kept that warm, but the material wasn’t thick enough to do much for her back.<br>
<br>
<br>
The red-haired woman grit her teeth against any complaints, though. She was meant to be setting an example for Robert Baratheon’s oldest daughter, Sorelle Baratheon. <i>‘Such a curious man.’</i> This daughter seemed to be the only one that Robert got a say in, in regards to her education and upbringing. Leora still remembered the conversation they had when she arrived at King’s Landing. He had waxed nostalgic over a woman he used to know—Lyanna Stark.<br>
<br>
<br>
She was infamous, of course, as the woman who started Robert’s Rebellion.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>“I want her to be more independent, more than Cerse’ll let Myrcella be. You’ll see the way she coddles that one, soon enough.”</i><br>
<br>
<br>
Leora saw quite a bit. Cersei and Robert evidently didn’t get on, and the reason was quite apparent when Robert tried to get Leora into his bed. She made it quite clear that wouldn’t be happening, and drugged his wine so he’d be in bed much sooner. He hadn’t tried again since. Leora imagined he had nightmares from the drugs, but no harm would have occurred to him otherwise.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora had written Cersei off as a narcissist. The children she took care of all looked like her—blonde hair and green eyes, the Lannister features. Sorelle looked much more like Robert. She had the deep blue eyes of the Baratheon’s, supposedly a color only Stannis could rival, and ever-darkening hair. She was quite the beauty, in truth. It was no wonder Robert preferred her—her looks were reminiscent of Lyanna stark, too.<br>
<br>
<br>
For her sake, for the little wolf that Robert wanted to raise, Leora would pretend the cold didn’t bother her half as much as did. <i>‘Well, that and….’</i> Leora shook the thought off before it could be completed. She didn't wish to think of the unusual company Robert was keeping on this trip.<br>
<br>
<br>
Rather than look ahead to the patriarch of the lions, she looked over to where Sorelle was, mounted on her own horse. “How are you holding up?” She asked, added, “We should be there—”<br>
<br>
<br>
There was a shift in the momentum, and when Leora looked ahead, she caught the sight of Winterfell’s gates and the Stark family lined up outside of it. She laughed, “Never mind, we are here. Come ahead,” she urged her own mount forward, since the princess should be one of the first introduced and welcomed. They would overtake the carriage that Cersei, Tommen, and Myrcella were riding in, so that the princess could be alongside her brother, Joffrey. <i>‘The asshole.’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
He was the only bad one of his siblings, really. Cersei hadn’t done a terrible job, except she made Joffrey overconfident, and made Tommen too passive. For a prince, it wasn’t fitting. At least Myrcella’s gentleness was…expected. Leora was glad that Robert stepped in for Sorelle.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora would dismount shortly after Robert did, grateful the snow wasn’t high enough to rise over her black boots. She hadn’t worn a dress since she would be riding all day, so she was oddly dressed compared to the women of the Stark family, and Cersei, who exited the carriage as Robert approached the man who had to be Eddard Stark, and Leora walked to where the princess was, to offer her assistance in getting down.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Ned, you’ve gotten fat!” was the declaration of Robert.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora tried not to laugh at that, considering who was speaking. She did chance a glance at this 'Ned', and didn't truly consider him fat at all. In fact, he and his entire family looked to be in good shape. There were a good number of red-heads among them, and a couple with black hair: one son and one daughter. The son looked to be oldest, but he stood besides a man with auburn hair who looked to be just as old. <i>'One is the bastard then.'</i> And she doubted it was the one with Catelyn's red hair.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle's cheeks were rosy as her blue eyes scaled the ground below her, her Passo Fino bred horse having moving with ease through the snow but would occasionally trip being weary of the new terrain. Her face was cold but the rest of her body felt fine. She was clothed in a blue velvet riding dress and thick cloak with black bear fur around the neck. She kept having to reach back and yank her hood back over her dark curls. She seemed to either have a this playful look about her or she'd have a serious gaze at times when she was focused. Whispers circulated on how she should consider Robb Stark but she had a strong distaste for anything arranged even though she knew in her heart she would have to eventually do her duty as a Princess.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her blue orbs flicked to her father who lead this great band of men and family. The "herd of stags" she'd heard him joke. She loved him dearly because he made he feel like she mattered in the grand scheme of things, not that she was just some pawn in a game. In her own head she liked to imagine she was on some great conquest getting ready to fight some battle. She loved reading, mostly about the Rebellions and the age of Dragons and far off places. She almost imagined if she herself lived in such a great time, all she wanted was adventure. She got in trouble on multiple accounts for running around King's Landing, socializing with the common folk. Sitting in on storyteller's, dancing with the people in square, then there were times when she'd go upon the outskirts of town, towards Flea Bottom and explore by the seas edge, she climb the rock walls best she could in her skirts. Ser Meryn was commonly sent after her, either he or Joffrey's  Hound, to which she preferred the Hound. Something about Ser Meryn and the way he looked at her made her squeamish.<br>
<br>
<br>
“How are you holding up?" Sorelle was brought back into her reality as a familiar voice called her back. She looked over and smiled at her dearest friend an confidant. "Better then most I believe." She replied and grinned looked ahead, she was eager to be in Winterfell, to explore somewhere new. She looked over Alysanne and frowned observing her slight shivers, "You know if you're cold I could order someone to bring you more blankets, Or another cloak!" Offered the young princess. "The last thing I need is for one of few people who understands me to freeze herself to death in this weather." She commented smirking jovially.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her friend in her mind was one of the loveliest ladies she'd ever seen, her hair reminded her of the flames of the fire place. She admired her and partially aspired to be like her. “We should be there—” Suddenly the whole caravan slowed, Sorelle pulled the reigns on her black stallion.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Never mind, we are here. Come ahead,” Sorelle grinned as she trotted up beside her father. The two made eye contact and he smiled fondly at her. "I hope you aren't afraid of wolves." Her father commented gruffly, "Stags don't fear anything." She said raising a brow and tilted up her chin. She was full with life, and full with youth. She was unaware of how much of woman she'd become. How her body had changed so quickly over the past year. Her father rode forward as she saw a line of Starks before her, only two seemed to have the dark feature her father told her Lyanna had.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora dismounted and came over to help Sorelle down, to which Sorelle smiled and took off her gloves, "Here...Put these on I insist. In fact if you don't I'll be offended." She said and turned to stride over beside Joffrey, he looked at her from the corner of his eye, "Ned, You've gotten fat!" Sorelle placed a delicate hand over her lips trying to stifle a laugh, she almost lost it when she saw Leora too had nearly laughed. However, once to the men hugged and began laughing it was like the whole courtyard sighed and laughed with them. Her blue eyes looked over the Stark children as they were introduced, the dark haired boy...seemed to have been forgotten. She looked down, Joffrey whispered to her, "Were you to good to ride in the carriage with us? Miss High and Mighty." Joffrey loved to get under her skin, Sorelle also gazed at him from the corner of his eye and nodded, "You know, I believe I am." Joffrey clinched his jaw, hating all of her witty come backs. She felt her Uncle Tywin's eyes locked on them now as if to tell them to "Straughten up"<br>
<br>
<br>
As all the Baratheon children were introduced, Sorelle was the only one who dipped her head humbly to the Starks, she knew how much they mean to her father. As Ned and Robert dismissed themselves to the tomb, Sorelle made it a goal to also make time to pay homage to Lyanna. In mean the time, she watched as servents carried her and her siblings things to her room, she thought to herself perhaps she go socialize with the locals in Winterfell. She found herself slowly slinking off just like back home, letting her curiosity captivate her.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin remained unaffected by this cold weather, after all he had been just about all over Westeros. He remained stoned face as Robert and Ned socialized, Jamie stood right as his side, "I don't want to be here long." He said his voice coming across annoyed already. Tywin shrugged it off, "We have a major purpose here, remember that. If everything plays out of Sansa and Joffrey and Robb and Sorelle the North will also be under the Lion's paw."<br>
<br>
<br>
Jamie nodded in agreement.<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin looked down at his daughter, he did love her. Even though he favored Jamie above all else, Cersei had her own special place. As a little girl few people knew how she doted on him and followed him everywhere. He looked around now for Tyrion and frowned, "Where...is your brother?" He asked in hushed tones. Jamie looked around himself. "I believe he may already be making himself..." He shifted his belt buckle. "comfortable." He said, Tywin closed his eyes with annoyance. "Be sure to get him before diner tonight. I expect him to be there."<br>
<br>
<br>
As the courtyard cleared out he looked around, everyone was getting there things to there rooms, he watched as his granddaughter blatantly walked off, he sighed. The Hound approached, his armor tremored loudly.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Shall I go fetch her?" He asked, his voice gruff. Tywin shook his head, "No, it isn't your job, not unless she gets very lost." He paused until his eyes fell over the familiar red head. "You, Alysanne." He said walking over to her, she looked like some sort of ghost to him. She was hauntingly beautiful and at times it made him weary to speak to her. However, he wouldn't show it.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Be sure our reckless Princess doesn't get herself into trouble her. Gods know she won't ever settle down. I don't want her socializing with commoners. Her father should have nipped that in the bud as soon as she started being fascinated by such things." He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">I made something that'll love me even when I won't</h5>
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-3527173" data-lb-caption-desc="Lucyfer · Jul 20, 2015 at 11:39 PM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper">Leora had very obviously wrinkled her nose in disgust at the idea of having more added. When she went over to Sorelle, the woman offered her gloves. A long-suffering sigh escaped her lips, “No, your grace, I wouldn’t want to offend you, your grace,” she laid the sarcasm on heavy, aware that the dear princess would understand it was all in good humor. She accepted the gloves with a bit of a wry smirk painting her lips, and placed them on over her own pair.<br>
<br>
<br>
She hated gloves, for many reasons. She always wore the thinnest pair when they were necessary. Leora had a sword! Gloves hindered her ability to use it, or at least, her own mind insisted that they did, since she couldn’t feel the metal on her own hand. Leora <i>craved </i>that. Not to mention, they hid her claws.<br>
<br>
<br>
What was a lion without claws?<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora reached up to take the reins of Sorelle’s horse, and picked out the groomsmen among the Stark party, a young man, and walked over to him with both her horse and Sorelle’s. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth to draw his attention as the party devolved into conversation and laughter. “Take good care of these two. This one especially,” she pulled on the reins of Sorelle’s horse to indicate which one, “This is the princess’s own horse. All right?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered and swiftly took the reins. Leora drew a piece of silver from her coin pouch and placed in his hand, gave him a smile and a conspiratorial hushing gesture, “and later you’ll give us a proper tour of this place.”<br>
<br>
<br>
It was the common workers of a castle who knew all the best places. Winterfell likely had its fair share of secrets, and Leora would be most offended if Sorelle would be most offended if her Lady didn’t figure them all out. For a moment, the young man’s eyes widened, and then he smiled, catching the mischief. “’Course ma’am, the horses will be well taken care of,” he agreed again, and started to pull them away.<br>
<br>
<br>
She started to walk back to where most were gathered, searching for Sorelle when another voice called to her.<br>
<br>
<br>
She straightened immediately, and resisted the urge to rest one of her hands on the hilt of her blade. <i>‘Oh, not even Lady?’</i> Leora bit the comment down and looked to the green-eyed and blonde Lannister, a question written on her face as to what he wanted. It wasn’t accusatory or even concerned, merely curious.<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin Lannister had turned out to be a more imposing figure than Alysanne had imagined when she’d met him at King’s Landing before they all set out for Winterfell. Somehow, she had expected time would make him soft, but it wasn’t so. He was not fat, like Robert. He still had life in his eyes, and grace in his movements that would make lesser people quake with fear.<br>
<br>
<br>
It was no wonder, really, that he’d managed genocide. He was the sort who looked like he could live with himself.<br>
<br>
<br>
She smiled at his comments. Of course, Leora liked that Sorelle communicated with the common folk. It was rather like Rhaegar Targaryen, a man who never got to be king, a man beloved and intelligent from all accounts. “I understand, Lord Tywin,” she chose to use his first name since he’d given permission—in her mind—by using her own name without accounting for her nobility. If it offended him, so be it. “I will watch Princess Sorelle carefully and keep her safe.” She let her eyes move to the Hound, “I’m not watching Joffrey, though. Sorry, mate.”<br>
<br>
<br>
The Hound was tolerable. They agreed on one thing—the Mountain deserved death. “If I may be excused, I have the Princess’s things to collect and take to her room,” Leora’s own things were with the princess’s. They would be sharing a space, of course.<br>
<br>
<br>
~***~<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon Snow stood stock still next to Robb Stark, black hair blowing and revealing his ears to the cold wind. He was used to it, though. It bothered him none. He could see, as the Baratheon party arrived, that it bothered them a little. He felt Theon nudge him and heard him whisper, “Look at the king.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon’s eyes followed Theon’s, and he found himself arching an eyebrow. That wasn’t the man he’d heard of from Ned. This one didn’t look like he could lift the weapon that Robert Baratheon had been rumored to wield during his rebellion. “Are you sure that’s him?” Snow shot back.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Sure I am. He’s wearing the crown,” Theon considered that enough.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon’s attention was then disturbed by a squeal from both Bran Stark and Arya, and he shot an amused look their way. They were, of course, admiring Jaime Lannister, the Kingsguard in all his finery. Then their attention shifted to the man in the dog helmet. There was then a coo, and as he looked to Sansa, he saw Robb roll his eyes.<br>
<br>
<br>
He smiled a little at that, understanding who Sansa was cooing over. <i>‘Doesn’t look like a great guy.’</i> He thought as he looked over the Baratheon prince. There was just something about him that seemed wrong, although he smiled nicely. His eyes moved over the others. Tywin Lannister was clear by his position near Jaime. Tyrion Lannister was no where to be seen. Cersei was exiting the carriage with the others. <i>‘But where’s the eldest?’</i> A flash of red and he caught sight of the one who must be Sorelle.<br>
<br>
<br>
A soft smile settled on his own face. Well, she didn’t look so bad. Rumor had it that Robb would be marrying her, so he looked to Robb.<br>
<br>
<br>
Robb wasn’t looking at her. He was looking over the host still, so Jon frowned, then quickly averted his gaze forward as the King approached.<br>
<br>
<br>
The commentary was amusing. Ned was called fat, only to retort, and cause Robert to laugh, which then allowed everyone to relax and laugh at the reunion of old friends. Cersei came close and Ned kissed her ring as Robert delivered a hug to Catelyn, and then went to look over the children.<br>
<br>
<br>
The King paused briefly at Jon Snow, “Ah, that’s Jon Snow,” Eddard answered, and Jon tried to smile under the king’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he saw something there.<br>
<br>
<br>
He didn’t explain it, didn’t even give Jon a proper introduction. His attention became something else, “That reminds me!” Though Jon didn’t know how he could serve to jog someone’s memory, “I came to pay my respects to the Lords and Lady of Winterfell. I haven’t been down there since she was put down there, I ought to do that before stepping on your land!”<br>
<br>
<br>
Ned let out a sigh, something between exasperation and happiness. He chanced a glance at Cersei, but then gave a nod, “Yes, I suppose so,” he consented, and walked to Robert and then towards the tombs, their conversation dwindling out.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon wore a look of confusion, before he turned his attention to the group that was starting to work on unpacking and coming into Winterfell. He felt Theon clap him on the back, “C’mon then, Snow. We should get to helping them out.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Eh?” But Theon was already moving to help a few of the pretty maids with the luggage. Jon laughed, realizing what was on Theon’s mind, and he shook his head, curls bouncing a bit.<br>
<br>
<br>
That was when he felt Arya tug on his arm. “Jon! Jon! Who’s that?” She didn’t hide who she was referring to, and Jon found his gaze moving to the red-head he’d seen helping the princess earlier. In truth, he didn’t know her, but he saw why Arya was interested. She was a woman with a sword.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I don’t know,” he told her, “You ought to go find out.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Oi!” The woman’s voice cut across the air to them just as Jon Snow started to look away, “You must be Snow.” Jon frowned at that. So did Arya. However, the woman with the red hair smiled, “Come on then, help me out, I’ve some luggage and I can’t carry all of it myself. I’m staying with Princess Sorelle.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya made the decision for him, running to assist. Jon let out a sigh and followed after her.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle weaved through Winterfell,just about everyone seemed to know each other so they knew she wasn't from the North. She stopped at a merchants, the lady bowed. "Well Good Marrow, M'Lady, are you one of the King's party?" She asked smiling kindly. Sorelle smirked, "You could say that." She said with a slight nod, wishing not to cause an uproar by staking her claim that she was indeed "Princess" She ran her hand along one the scarfs, "Your work is beautiful, its so soft..." She said pressing the fabric to her cheek.<br>
<br>
<br>
"And it's very warm! Only ten gold pieces." Sorelle grabbed to and set a bag on the table, the lady poured out the bag, "You're going to need change dear! My, My!" Sorelle waved it off, "Take it!" She waved good bye and warped the dark blue one around her neck. 'Much better.' She thought to herself, the scarf really did help from the warmth.<br>
<br>
<br>
As she made her way through town she caught sight of Tyrion and Jamie coming forth from a brothel, "Uncle Tyrion, Uncle Jamie!" She lifted hand and and waved jogged towards them in the snow nearly tripping on this unfamiliar ground. She grinned and ran a hand through her silky dark hair, "Ah, my favorite niece." Commented Tyrion, he took the end of the scarf as he looked up at her, "Have you already started your expeditions? I see it looks like you've made a purchase." Sorelle nodded, "I'm only acquainting myself with the dear people of the North."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Your mother won't be happy." Commented Jamie coolly. Sorelle raised a brow, "Are you going to snitch on me?" She asked putting a hand on her hip.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I doubt I'll have to your grandfather already took that into his own hands."<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle groaned, Tywin Lanister...she couldn't tell if he hated her so much he wanted to under constant lock and key or if he actually liked her and was in constant worry over her.<br>
<br>
<br>
Tyrion broke the silence playfully, "Your mother will be pleased." He said, "Come, let us head back to the castle. I heard from my dear brother that diner will be served soon, there will be food, wine and women." He grinned. "I'll be there." Sorelle laughed her eyes lighting up. Her and her uncle Tyrion seemed to have a natural bond.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her blue eyes floated over the castle of Winterfell as she looked up at it. She let out a soft sigh before following one of her father's servants to her room. She was surprised to  not only find her Alysanne in the room but also the Stark girl and young man that favored each other. Sorelle raised a brow, "Well, looks like I missed the party she said taking off the scarf she bought and placing it on one of the hooks on the wall. She took off her cloak too the fire was warming the room already. She looked around her vibrant eyes scanning the room. "It's perfect, Perhaps we should holiday here instead of Casterly Rock." She said jovially. She walked over to Alysanne and handed her the second scarf she bought, "Again, I won't have my friends freeze. I bought you this! Hand made, right here in Winterfell!" Sorelle spoke excitedly, giving gifts was one of her favorite things, It was a vibrant red liken that too the Reyne sigils colors.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle turned to the other's in the room, "I believe a less...formal introduction is in need." She said, she had a way about her like nothing made her nervous. When she smiled it was as if there was no one else in the world she so wanted to see. "Please, you mustn't call me 'Princess' when we aren't being formal. Just Sorelle is plenty. Titles are...over done." She commented easily and wrung her hands. She eyed Arya, she was small and but had fierce blue eyes, she was pretty for a girl so young but she could tell she had a wild side, much like herself perhaps. "You are Arya Stark, it was a pleasure to meet you in the courtyard. I do wish I could've spoken for myself. I think people truly believe royal children don't have voices at all."<br>
<br>
<br>
She grinned then turned to the young man, he was nearly startling.<br>
<br>
<br>
He had very dark features, his sharp brows and dark curly hair gave him a look of mystery in some way. She was normally good at reading people and she couldn't tell if she made him uncomfortable or if perhaps he was shy...or maybe just quiet. He was also rather handsome, Sorelle seemed still cool about herself. "I must beg your forgiveness but I believe they missed you in the introductions earlier." She said clueless apparently that the reason being was Ned Stark's bastard. "Might I inquire your name Sir?" She asked curiously crossing her arms bout her chest. She seemed calm always, except when adventure was mentioned.  She had pull intentions of thanking them both some how for helping Alysanne with all her things.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin walked the halls of Winterfell, he had been there before but it was a long time ago, the smell was still familiar. Warm food, fire wood, and full cold air. He wondered when Jamie would return with Tyrion. He had sent him out earlier to fetch him from the brothel he knew he must has found. Tyrion always had a way finding those. Ever since he paid that whore to sleep with him and pretend to be his wife he hadn't been the same.<br>
<br>
<br>
By now as he looked at the sun dinner would soon be held in the grand hall and he could hear everyone preparing the food, and settling the tables, even clearing a place to dance. Suddenly he turned on his heels when he felt a tug on his leather jerkin. His eyes flicked downward onto the very young Tommen. "What are you doing boy?" Asked Tywin staring down at him. Tommed shuffled his feet coyly.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I'm lost." He mumbled. Tywin looked around and pick the boy up. "That is why you must pay close attention." He held the boy on his hip like a father, well a grandfather. Tommen's eyes got foggy like he could cry.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I-I didn't mean too..." He said lip quivering. Tywin softened a little, "Do not think to cry." He said sternly before drawing the boy in. "Princes do not cry." he said as he walked down the halls with the little blond boy on his hip.<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin stopped as Jamie approached, "Here. Your nephew cannot find his mother, would you be so kind as to take him for me." Jamie nodded taking Tommen from Tywin's arms. "Did you fetch you brother?" He asked shoulders, back commandingly. Jamie nodded, "I sure did, last I saw he was walking Sorelle to her room."<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin looked annoyed, "So Lady Alysanne did not follow my orders?" Jamie shrugged "I believed she was taking her things to her room." Tywin sighed and placed his forehead between his thumb and fingers. "I told her to go find the princess..." He huffed, "No matter, she is back and unharmed. She does not need to leave anymore." He said seriously.<br>
<br>
<br>
"She is too spirited, someone needs to bring her head out of the clouds. I feel like she would trust anybody in the world, it's going to get her raped or killed." Said Tywin his tone almost angry.<br>
<br>
<br>
"You know father, Sorelle isn't as naive as you may realize." Said a voice, around the corner came Tyrion, drink in hand. "She's clever really...maybe she gets it from you."<br>
<br>
<br>
"That child is barely Lanister and all Baratheon." He retorted. "She believes it right and good to go out and make well with common folk. That needs to end. She is a Princess, she should not be keeping company of anyone lower than a Lord." Tyrion looked away. There was no changing Tywin's mind.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Arya didn’t flinch under the bags she was given by the bastard, and he took the most, allowing Leora to get a bit of a break from the heavy lifting. She’d had so much fun loading everything. <i>‘Just finish this up, then go find Sorelle.’</i> In truth, Leora didn’t think Sorelle would have left for any towns yet. Certainly there was enough adventure in the castle yard. How wrong she would be.<br>
<br>
<br>
“So, are you a knight?” Arya dared to ask, eyes alight at the thought. A wolf pup came padding up to her, and followed them into Winterfell.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I’m not, no. I’m Lady Alysanne Farman. Fair Isles.” She’d been telling that lie for so many years, it almost seemed like the truth.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya’s face screwed up a bit at that. It wasn’t a house she was terribly familiar with. Jon quoted, “Fair is the way,” and Leora nodded. “I’m Jon Snow, though you guessed that. This is Arya Stark.” She gave an enthusiastic nod, and Jon continued. “Do you know how to use that blade of yours?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Does it have a name?”<br>
<br>
<br>
It seemed Arya did have more of the wolf in her than some. It pleased Leora. She was likely the first woman Arya had ever seen that actually could hold her own in a fight. “It does, yes.” Sebaston had bought it for her on her 25th name day, all those years ago. Her true birthday, too. He’d had it fashioned in the Free Cities to resemble the Valyrian steel sword, Red Rain, since she couldn’t have that.<br>
<br>
<br>
No, that was in the clutches of House Drumm, the Ironborn family. The blade had belonged to the Reynes, though. “I call him Proud Spire,” so many little things, “since he’s a bastard sword—no offense meant,” she looked to Jon, seeing it was taken. “It’s just the class of sword, between longsword and greatsword.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“I know what it is,” he grumbled.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Can I see it?” Arya asked as Jon managed to push open the door to the room Leora and Sorelle would share. He dropped his load of things on one of the beds with a relieved sigh.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora and Arya dropped theirs on the other bed, “I’ll do you one better,” she gave a conspiratorial glance to Jon, as if wondering if he were trustworthy, “You show me all about this castle, and I’ll even give you a few lessons with the sword.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Really?!”<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon narrowed his eyes, “She’s only a girl.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“So was I, when I learned. You can supervise if you like. I’m sure you’d like to get away from all the pompous lords who are going to look down their nose at you.” Leora looked to Arya, “We’ll have to use wooden blades, but I’m sure there are some here, right?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yeah! Oh Jon, please?” Arya turned to him, and he let out a sigh.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Fine, but I will be supervising.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya let out a trill of excited laughter, “Come on, come on then! The dinner will be soon!”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Let me unpack a few things first,” she said, and Arya let out a huff. With Leora’s back turned, Jon did smile, just a bit. Arya was happy, and he supposed he was, too. He was just paranoid about the safety of Arya. She fought with Bran, and with him and Robb, but they always knew to go easy on her.<br>
<br>
<br>
While Leora was unpacking, Jon heard the sound of footsteps. He took a few steps from the door so that he wouldn’t be hit by it when it was opened. The princess Sorelle walked in, and Jon immediately felt the urge to bow, but he found his knees locked against the activity. Confusion spread across his features at the casual way Sorelle interacted with them all. She was so happy about the cold, and this space.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya froze up immediately, also stuck for a reaction.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora straightened up, and reached for the scarf. Already, the gloves had been discarded now that she was safely inside, and her cloak was laying across the bed. The scarf she took and noted the way it matched her nails. Sorelle did know her favorite color, if not the reason for it. “Thank you,” she said as she brushed it against her cheek, before wrapping it around her neck. She’d wear this much, anyway, “but you’re getting me in trouble with my liege lord. You already went into town, without me?” She made sure to sound a touch annoyed. She would have preferred to go with Sorelle, for many reasons, but one of them was to keep Sorelle safe.<br>
<br>
<br>
She hadn’t known Sorelle would head that way so soon.<br>
<br>
<br>
“That’s Tywin, right?” Arya asked, wanting to make sure she had an understanding of where the Fair Isles were.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes,” Leora sighed. The wolf pup that had followed jumped up on the bed, on the cloak, startling Leora.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Nymeria! Down!” Arya directed, pointing. The pup didn’t understand yet, and gave her a blank stare. Arya walked right over to it as less formal introductions were asked for. Holding the pup, she said, “You can just call me Arya, I don’t mind.” She wasn’t a huge fan of being ‘lady’ Arya anyway. “And this is Nymeria, a dire wolf!”<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora arched an eyebrow at the pup. Dire wolf? Now that was interesting. She’d just thought it was a regular wolf.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon Snow smiled at the interactions, and then looked up to the princess as he felt her blue eyes on him. He knew he shouldn’t think too much of her, considering her station and his, but he found her to hold a northern sort of beauty to her that was very easy on the eyes. He answered, with a touch of embarrassment that always accompanied his introductions, “I’m Jon Snow,” how he hated to be a ‘Snow’. “I don’t have any titles,” not with his status.<br>
<br>
<br>
“He’s a good man,” Leora surmised, “Carried most of the things up here. He’s going to watch his sister and I later tonight on a venture about. Care to join?” She asked Sorelle, taking the sword from its place around her hip, “And either way, would you mind leaving the room, Jon? I have to put on a dress for the dinner.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Oh!” He went a bit red, “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I’ll just be right outside, Arya.” For Arya had set Nymeria now and was reaching for the scabbard of the blade. He walked to exit the room and shut the door behind him, to give the women the privacy in which to prepare for the dinner.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle chuckled as the wolf pup jumped on the bed starling her dear friend, she came over and stroked the pup , feeling it's soft fur bentween her fingers. "I'd love to take one of these home with me! Perhaps I shall pretend to be a Stark and stay here amongst the wolves." She said jokingly as Arya came over a picked up her wolf. "You know I once heard a legend that all Starks have wolf blood in them..." She shifting her weight to one side after Arya made her less formal introduction. “You can just call me Arya, I don’t mind." Sorelle liked this girl already. “And this is Nymeria, a dire wolf!” A dire wolf...she had only ever heard of them in her stories. She thought to herself how large they would come to be. "She's wonderful! Just think, you will have a great companion for the rest of your life! I heard them to be loyal." Sorelle could tell Alysanne was amused with the dire wolf as well.<br>
<br>
<br>
She listened carefully as the young man introduced himself as she requested, “I’m Jon Snow,”<br>
<br>
<br>
In her mind it clicked, unfortunately too late however, that HE was the bastard she had heard of in there travels. “I don’t have any titles,” He said in closing. Sorelle waved her hand dismissively. "Well, Jon, as I said upon entering-" She shifting her weight to the other side now, one hand resting on her hip, "Titles <i><b>are</b></i> overdone." She said with ease. It was almost as if she had all the etiquette and manors in the world grace could bestow and yet she carried an air of ease about her.<br>
<br>
<br>
“He’s a good man,” Said Alysanne, Sorelle's blue eyes flicked over to her friend before falling upon Jon once more. “Carried most of the things up here. He’s going to watch his sister and I later tonight on a venture about. Care to join?” Sorelle smirked infamously. "Must you even ask?" She said playfully. "I will be expected to sit and dine with my family but once I clean my plate I do believe I can manage slipping out. I feel like for a Princess I'm rather good at slipping into the darkness unnoticed." She said, although back home "The Spider" ALWAYS knew where she was at all time. She wouldn't be surprised if he had little birds here as well. She shuttered at the thought, sometime he creeped her out.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Either way, would you mind leaving the room, Jon? I have to put on a dress for the dinner.” Commented Alysanne, her voice had way of sounding wise most times to Sorelle's ears. The familiar voice that always seemed to make her smile since it meant her dearest friend was near. "Oh!" Sorelle took note to the blush that came over Jon's face and smiled, “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I’ll just be right outside, Arya.” The two dismissed themselves and Sorelle shot a glance to her sister like figure and nodded in approval. "I like these people." She said skillfully unlacing the back of her dress, she'd done so for years. She used to wait for servants and hand maidens do it for her, they always took to long to Sorelle learned to do it on her own. She let her blue velvet dress float to the floor as she stepped from it in her little gown with her corset tied tightly about her thin figure.<br>
<br>
<br>
She walked over to her chest and rested her elbows on it, "Father made a point to dress night for our first dinner here." She groaned, closing her eyes. She let her hand rest upon her gold dress, with lovely muslin print on it. She pulled it out and looked in a mirror holding it to her body. She liked gold because it reflected the colors of the Baratheon sigil. She immediately decided that was the one and slid it over her head. The gold contrasted nicely with her sleek, thick dark hair. She always got a rush before going before a crowd. She looked at her friend and raised a brow and spun and flung her hand over her forehead dramatically. "Does <b><i>this </i></b>make a good statement?" She said before winking. She turned her back to her, "What are the odds I could use your help in tying up the back for me?" She said pulling her dark locks out of the way.<br>
<br>
<br>
She looked around the room knowing she'd be expected to where some form of "identification" as if sitting at the royal table, wearing the color of the Baratheon family wasn't enough. She picked a very small crown to match her dress. Nothing flashy, it merely was small more of a tiara and was made to look like intertwined stag antlers. She settled and secured it gently in her hair. She turned to face Alysanne and shrugged, "I suppose this will do for tonight." She looked over her friend. She was beautiful, in fact Sorelle thought her to be one of the prettiest women she'd ever seen. It made her sometimes wish her hair was that fire kissed red. "You look perfect! I feel like every man in the room is going to ask you to dance." She said raising a brow.</div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-3537774" data-lb-caption-desc="Lucyfer · Jul 22, 2015 at 1:03 AM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper">Out went the Stark and Snow, though Leora heard them pause a few steps down. No doubt, they planned to escort the pair to the dining hall. Leora was grateful; she didn’t know where it was.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle agreed with her, “I rather like Arya. I think I could make her into the next Nymeria. I wonder if she’ll accompany Ned to King’s Landing?” It was a voiced hope. Leora doubted very much that Jon Snow would accompany them, considering what he was.<br>
<br>
<br>
What a sad life. She wondered if he’d get on well with the imp, Tyrion. Of the Lannisters, Tyrion was the only one Leora found she liked. He was also the one that she feared most. If any of them were going to become wise to what she was, it would be him. He was clever—too clever.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora began to strip the layers from herself. She didn’t just to slide nicely out of a dress. Underneath her navy tunic was chainmail, and below that a layer of fabric to prevent the mail from being painful against bare flesh. “Yes, we must look nice,” she said as her attention turned to the pants, and the leather. Leather guards rested over her legs, and just as she’d stripped herself of it all, she saw that Sorelle was already in the beautiful dress that Robert must have chosen for her.<br>
<br>
<br>
It would never be Cersei that did these things. She let a smile widen on her lips, “Yes, it does. You look beautiful,” she crossed the floor with bare feet, finding the floor surprisingly warm. The system of heating here was fantastic. Leora’s deft fingers easily laced up the back, practiced from the many times she’d done this for the princess before. Yet another thing Cersei didn’t do. <i>‘And to think, she is young enough to be your daughter.’</i> Not that Sorelle was aware of that. The slight fudging of her age made it seem unlikely.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya could be, of course. Arya would be quite fun, if she went along to Winterfell. Leora would have to speak to Ned, of course. She wouldn’t want to do too much in secret from the Hand of the King. <i>‘If he accepts.’</i> If he didn’t, the position would most certainly fall to Tywin Lannister. He’d held the position before.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora shook her head to dismiss the thought and patted Sorelle’s back, “There. That feel all right?” She asked, hoping it wasn’t too tight as she moved to pull out her own dress.<br>
<br>
<br>
She had plenty, and she did love them. She built up both sides of herself, as she tried to do with the princess. Red would be too much with the scarf, so Leora instead sought a green dress. She’d been told that three colors looked best on her—red, green, and dark blue. So, she tended to stick to those hues. She would have liked silver, the other hue of House Reyne, but her fair skin disagreed with it. Dark grey worked, though.<br>
<br>
<br>
The green dressed laced up the front, but it was kept modest with a black chemise that could be seen through the threads. She had made a habit of owning dresses like that. She knew she could always ask Sorelle to return the favor, but for some reason it just didn’t seem proper.<br>
<br>
<br>
As she brushed her hands down the front of the dress to smooth it, she heard the compliment and smiled, “Thank you. Do be sure to dance with Robb, yourself,” she advised, “Ask him if you must,” though she doubted the heir of Winterfell was shy.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ah yes, music. And Tywin was here. <i>‘I’m going to have to endure that song again, aren’t I?’</i> So many times, and still she hadn’t grown numb to it.<br>
<br>
<br>
She found her unpacked brush and made sure her hair was free of knots before she pulled a few strands back into a small braid that would rest over the main fall of her hair, then she gave a nod to Sorelle. “Let’s not keep them waiting too long.”<br>
<br>
<br>
She slipped her feet into nicer shoes, and then opened the door to find Jon and Arya a few steps down. “Jon, would you mind serving as escort for Pri—ah,” right, informality until the dining room, at least, “for Sorelle.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“O-Yes, of course,” he looked up the stairs and past Leora to see the woman in a dress that shone like the sun. He smiled and stepped up to offer his arm to her, as Leora took Arya’s hand. “You look lovely, er,” he heard Arya snicker which made him overthink his words immediately. “You looked lovely before, too,” he added. “Yellow just isn’t a popular color here.” Dark hues were preferred to endure the weather, after all.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle walked stride for stride beside Alysanne, one had beauty of the sun as it poured over her flame like hair, while the other had features like the moon, pale yet dark and only slightly mysterious. As they approached Jon and Arya, Alysanne spoke up. “Jon, would you mind serving as escort for Pri—ah," Sorelle almost giggled as her friend corrected herself, “for Sorelle.” finished Alysanne, she knew how she had a distaste for titles. In her own perfect world there were no such things. After all a bastard would bleed the same as a princess in her eyes. Sorelle's eyes flicked over to Alysanne, was she toying with her? Already? She wondered if Alysanne had some how read her mind by thinking the young man was handsome...she hoped not.  Surely not, Sorelle kept her thoughts often to herself shaking such thoughts and forbidding them to come back.<br>
<br>
<br>
“O-Yes, of course,” Sorelle felt Jon's eyes upon her, as she looked down the steps into his eyes. He smiled at her, he did have a gentle smile. He was one of those who could look two different ways. Either very serious, or even gentle. Or at least that's what Sorelle seemed to collect from his disposition so far. She came up a couple of steps and offered his are to her, he wore all black and fine leather jerkin, it reminded her of how the men on the Wall dressed. She took his arm with an affirmed gentleness, she seemed to glide easily down the stairs as she held gently to the front of her gown as not to trip.<br>
<br>
<br>
“You look lovely, er,” Jon said lightly, before Arya seemingly made things awkward by giggling. Sorelle cut her eyes slightly to Alysanne and then back to Jon, her blue orbs fell to the floor as she smiled at Jon's fumbling of words.  “You looked lovely before, too,Yellow just isn’t a popular color here.” Sorelle smirked, "Well thank you, such compliments given by people like you are cherishable in my book." She said fondly her cast before her.<br>
<br>
<br>
As they entered the dining hall, eyes were spent in their direction, she looked ahead to see her father sitting beside Ned. When he caught sight of her his eyes seemed to ignite, "AH! There's my girl!" Sorelle grinned broadly in response. He had a few women standing about him. That was usual. She caught sight of an empty set between Robb and Joffrey, Sansa sitting on the other side of Joffrey.<br>
<br>
<br>
'Marvelous, so it begins.' she thought to herself not wanting to release herself from her escort just yet. 'Already a seating chart for the expected couples.' She let out a quiet sigh before slipping her arm from Jon. "It's shame I can't have a dance with you, It appears my affairs have been preset for me. How perverse." She said jokingly. Her eyes shifting from her seat at the table then back to Jon.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Twas a pleasure, mayhap I will see you, your sister, and Alysanne in a little while." She dipped her head gracefully before straightening her shoulders and striding with ease to her destination. She cast her eyes in Alysanne direction, wondering how long she'd be amongst them before parting to "train" with Arya. She stopped behind her father's chair he stood up and hugged her tightly, the familiar smell of stale wine attempted to be covered by perfumes. She sighed into his chest before he kissed her cheek. It was clear those two had something special, she brought out the "old" Robert. Ned could even see a glimpse of him when she was near. The two sort of shared a little wink before Sorelle went to take her seat, a slight bounce to her step.<br>
<br>
<br>
She slid past Tywin hearing him murmur, "That was humiliating...do the Starks find it amusing that they had the <i><b>bastard </b></i>escorting the Princess?" Sorelle huffed and moved past as Jamie and Tywin shared words behind Cersei. She made her way to the table and Robb stood up and pulled out Sorelle's chair for her. "Thank you Sir." She said looking up at him, he had a charm about him, bright blue eyes and dark auburn locks. He sat down beside her again, "I see your hand maiden has taken a liking to my sister." he commented his bright eyes flicking in the direction. Sorelle smiled, "Yes, Id say so. They have lots in common. Your family is quite delightful..." Sorelle glanced at Joffrey, "I wish I could say the same about my own." She said with a devious chuckle.<br>
<br>
<br>
Perhaps Robb wasn't so bad after all, he was bold but something about him still seemed reserved. She shifted in her seat, as food was brought to the table she looked up thanking the servants. They seemed pleasantly surprised by this and nodded, Joffrey looked over at her mockingly, "Really sister?" Sorelle took a bite of food and glance over at him and shrugged, "What?" Joffrey scoffed, "You act like your one of them, you don't even need to look at them. They are beneath us- They are-"<br>
<br>
<br>
"Shut up." Sorelle said her lips in a straight line, brows raised.<br>
<br>
<br>
Joffrey looked surprised, "What did you say?"<br>
<br>
<br>
"I said...<b><i>Shut up</i></b>." She said smiling carelessly one brow arched, continuing to eat.<br>
<br>
<br>
Joffrey slumped into his chair annoyed and looked back at Sansa, "I'm telling-"<br>
<br>
<br>
"Mother? Be my guest." Finished Sorelle she obviously had no cares of Joffrey. She didn't fear the boy.<br>
<br>
<br>
Robb tugged at his collar nervously and leaned over, "Is there always this much tension in the family?"<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle shook her head, "No...just Joff." She whispered back. Music suddenly began to play, a familiar and sad tune kicked it off, The Rains of Castamere.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle wanted to scream. Tywin for some reason enjoyed this tune very much, it seemed to be his own personal anthem. Sorelle knew the story well, Tywin seemed to brag of it often.<br>
<br>
<br>
Robb glanced over at his mother, who seemed to be giving them cues, "Achem...Princess, may I have a few dances?" Sorelle took his hand, "If you please." She replied countering all his remarks with ease. The two entered the middle of room, again Sorelle's eyes searching for Alysanne, she knew how she hated this song and wondered how she was. She wasn't sure why then again she hated this song too...<br>
<br>
<br>
"Forgive my look of distaste, I oath it is neither you nor the dancing." Robb chuckle, "What then?"<br>
<br>
<br>
"This...music...well this song. It's my grandfather's favorite. I find it...morbid."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Why?" Robb asked curiously, the girl seemed full and liken unto some sort of well of knowledge.<br>
<br>
<br>
"It's about the destruction of the House Reyne, my...grandfather murdered them all."<br>
<br>
<br>
She said seemingly upset by this. "What an awful song for them to have us dance to."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Agreed." Sorelle said flatly looking up at Tywin.<br>
<br>
<br>
Meanwhile, Tywin approached Alysanne about midway through the song, he had scanned the room and no one seemed at more distaste then she.<br>
<br>
<br>
"M'Lady, you look like you're ready to leave? Does it not please you to see your Princess with the Stark?" She seemed cool but angry, "I don't think you like this song." He said crossing his arms over his chest, "This...younger generation had no respect for such things. No matter." He said changing the subject, "I see you're keeping up better with our Sorelle. How are you enjoying this...world of winter?" He asked curiously. He gazed upon her, her skin seemed to glow, her red hair looked set flame by the light of the many candles in the room. She was beautiful, surely she wouldn't remain single forever. Something about the girl made him curious and he wasn't sure why.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle took note of Robb's occasional wayward glances and followed them, he seemed to have his eyes on a girl sitting near Sansa, "She's pretty." Commented Sorelle smirking as she caught him staring. Robb seemed flustered, "What? Well yes, but beauty doesn't compare to that of my princess."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Sorelle...please...and don't lie." She grinned as they danced, "Lie?" Robb questioned.<br>
<br>
<br>
"You like her and she likes you."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Don't-"<br>
<br>
<br>
"I'm good at reading such things."<br>
<br>
<br>
Robb grew silent, "You know why don't you share a few dances with her tonight?" Suggested Sorelle easily.<br>
<br>
<br>
Robb looked up at her as if she were testing him.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I mean it. I won't mind, my legs hurt from riding all day anyhow." She smiled and gave Robb's hands a squeeze of encouragement she winked at him before taking  seat. Her body ached, she hadn't realized how sore her body was from the journey until now.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">I made something that'll love me even when I won't</h5>
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Arya cast a devious look up at Leora, and Leora matched it. <i>‘Oh yes, I know.’</i> It said, and Arya’s grin broadened as they both considered the couple behind them. Children and adults understood the emotional turmoil and lust of hormonal teenagers, and how difficult it was to make them admit it. There were the stray looks, the stuttering over words, the explanations—like Jon’s—to deny it.<br>
<br>
<br>
It was delicious to inflict such torment on the youth.<br>
<br>
<br>
Once they entered the dining hall, the seat for Sorelle was obvious. Leora gave her a deep nod to indicate her temporary farewell. “Of course,” Jon politely removed his arm to let the woman run off to sit with the future Lord of the North. He envied his half-brother, then, and his eyes followed her.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Seems I’ve no place to be,” there was no spot saved with the Lannisters behind the royal party. Not even a spot by Tyrion. Well, there was an empty seat near Jaime, but Leora would not be taking that one. “Arya? Shall we discuss the exploits of Nymeria and Visenya together?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“YES!” Arya all but squealed at the prospect of the conversational partner, and pulled Leora to a table with Bran and Rickon. Jon laughed but followed along, seating himself with his fellow men and saying, “The little ladies want to discuss warriors.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Bran’s eyes now lit up. “You?” He hadn’t noticed Leora in the mess.<br>
<br>
<br>
“My favorite is Visenya Targaryen.” Half-truth. That was her favorite woman. Her favorite man would always be Reynard Reyne.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Nymeria! Of course,” Arya laughed.<br>
<br>
<br>
“You?” Leora queried Bran.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Bran the Builder!” He puffed out his chest.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon chuckled, “His name is Bran. Bran Stark.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Pleasure,” Leora offered her hand, and Bran took it quickly to shake in both of his. “Bran the Builder was quite amazing, creating the Night’s Watch and all.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“You like the Watch?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Mm.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“I’ve considered joining,” Jon admitted, and this seemed to surprise both Bran and Arya. He hadn’t mentioned it to them, yet. He motioned in the direction of Ned, to a man in black, “That’s my uncle, Benjen. He’s a member.” Leora took him in.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘You don’t think Ned would naturalize you?’</i> It was a question Leora knew not to ask. “How old are you?” She asked instead.<br>
<br>
<br>
“18.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Whole life in Winterfell?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Come to King’s Landing, first,” she said, and saw his look harden, “At least see what else is out there. See a bit of the world before condemning yourself to the Wall. The unknown is far more tempting than the known.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“I’ll think about it.” His tone, however, suggested that he would not. He just wanted to end the conversation.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Talk to Tyrion, too. He knows a lot about…everything,” she chuckled.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Tyrion’s the imp, right?” Bran asked.<br>
<br>
<br>
“He doesn’t like that name,” Leora clarified, “but yes. Anyway, you,” she looked to Rickon, “Who is your favorite warrior?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Selmy!”<br>
<br>
<br>
And so the conversation spiraled to discussing matters of war, warriors, and who could beat who in a fight. Arya was quite passionate about Nymeria, which was wonderful to observe, as she and Bran quickly got into an amusing argument. Jon and Leora shared many looks during it, that said, <i>‘Children.’</i>, as if they understood the things.<br>
<br>
<br>
Then came the <i>Rains of Castamere</i>. Then came the comment from Bran, “Tywin was a pretty good warrior, too.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yeah!” Came Arya’s agreement, “The Reynes and the Tarbecks both!”<br>
<br>
<br>
“He was only 18 then, too!” Excited conversation about the strategies, which Bran, of course, knew. The agreement with Tywin’s actions, as if genocide were ever an agreeable thing. Leora took silence as her defense, and eating, filling her mouth so she couldn’t speak if she wanted to.<br>
<br>
<br>
The Starks held the same position as the Lannisters. <i>‘They wouldn’t understand.’</i> She reminded herself. They were in that privileged position of being the liege-lords of an entire domain, and of being taught that others were lesser. Genocide would always be appropriate for individual offenses.<br>
<br>
<br>
Given, the Tarbecks deserved it even less than the Reynes, but she’d always feel bitter. Peace had been attempted and denied.<br>
<br>
<br>
She had been too distracted with foul thoughts to notice Tywin until he spoke. She straightened up immediately and looked up to the man standing there, recognizing the distaste written so plainly on her face. Bran and Arya immediately shut up, but their looks were of adoration to the man who’s brilliant strategies they had just been discussing.<br>
<br>
<br>
She didn’t answer what bothered her. He had surmised it, and there was no need to agree since he moved smoothly onto other matters, “Yes, I apologize for not looking after her better, Lord Tywin,” she answered, “I did not realize how close the town was. I will not be letting her far from my sights again.” Speak of the important matters.<br>
<br>
<br>
And…small talk? How queer. “I prefer it to the Isles, but not to King’s Landing. I do not care much for extremes.” The Isles were always a brutal summer that wreaked havoc on her skin that refused to tan. The winter was a brutal cold that numbed her fingers. King’s Landing was appropriate weather. “How do you find the winter, Lord Tywin?” She returned politely, pushing her hands underneath the table at that line about ‘long and sharp claws’.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Tywin!” Bran spoke with excitement. He didn’t care how Tywin liked winter. “Won’t you tell us about the war with the Reynes? Please?”<br>
<br>
<br>
If it was appropriate to kick children in the shins, Leora would have done so. Alas, such was not appropriate.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon chuckled at Bran’s enthusiasm, before his eyes were caught by Robb departing from Sorelle. His curious look earned him a kick from Arya, who did think kicking someone in the shins was a good idea. He mouthed the word ‘ow’, and she gave him a serious, stern look. Again, he mouthed, ‘Okay, okay,’, and then got up to excuse himself, imagining the Lord Tywin wouldn’t notice due to Bran’s adoring look. He wouldn’t bring attention to his departure, though.<br>
<br>
<br>
If he was allowed to leave, he would approach the Lady Sorelle to say, “I trust my brother knows a thing or two about dancing?” and then mentally kick himself for not just asking her to dance straight away.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle's gentle gaze watched at a seemingly eager Robb Stark made his way to the pretty girl sitting near Sansa. It made her smile to him to take her hand and lead her to the dance floor.<br>
<br>
<br>
"What is she doing?" Breathed Cersei, "Robert...why did she send him away?" She said her voice had a tinge of urgency in it. Robert shook his head, a little win dripping down his beard, "Cersei dear she didn't send him away! She let him go!" Cersei sat back in her chair, her eyes burning holes towards her daughter.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle seemed unaffected by Cersei's looks, to some it seemed strange how she was seemingly supposed to make herself the center of attention but she seemed to be most amused with slipping in and out of whispering amongst the people. She was without and within, all encompassing, seeming to understand everyone.<br>
<br>
<br>
"And why is it I may ask that you have found yourself on the outskirts on this lovely dinner escapade?" Asked one of her favorite voices.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle looked downwards, "You could say I'm...reviewing and studying my new surroundings?"<br>
<br>
<br>
Tyrion smiled and offered Sorelle a goblet of wine, "Right, because you are observant and wise as a hundred year old Maester, am I correct?"<br>
<br>
<br>
Her lips tightened dangerously and she took the drink,  she nodded smirking.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Pray tell me, dear niece, did the Young Wolf not please you? Everyone seems to be dying at why he left you."<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle shook her head, "Not at all, any young lady would be fortunate, he seems lovely."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Then what's the problem?" Asked Tyrion taking in a long sip of wine.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle looked far away and thoughtful, "Because if I saw a man look at me the way he looked at that girl, I'd pray someone would let him go too..."<br>
<br>
<br>
Her voice was gentle.<br>
<br>
<br>
"That's why I'd like to see your rule...maybe not King's Landing maybe even something like here, or The Veil or something...you have a kind heart for it. You're confident too."<br>
<br>
<br>
"I thought you said I was too wild just three days past?" She questioned her brow arched and she leaned down to look at the "Imp"<br>
<br>
<br>
"You'll mellow out, you're a girl of seventeen...you're passionate. Life will teach you all in good time my sweet summer child." Sorelle rolled her eyes and laughed at his comment.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle's focus was on the lively music being played, she smiled as people swirled about, Winterfell had such a different feel the King's Landing. It was small but it was so homey. It felt like everyone belonged here.<br>
<br>
<br>
She felt s nudge to her thigh as Tyrion eyes flicked to her left before beginning to dismiss himself.<br>
<br>
<br>
She looked up to see he was giving her a heads up that Jon was approaching.<br>
<br>
<br>
She smiled at him, her demeanor welcoming. Jon seemed pleasant company, he also seemed like he'd be the last person to judge her for how behaviors. She liked that.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Come to keep me company?" She asked taking a sip of her own cup she'd been given.<br>
<br>
<br>
 “I trust my brother knows a thing or two about dancing?” He had a nice way about him, it looked like he wanted to smile.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle cocked her head to the side curiously, "Are you assuming to tell me that you know more of dancing then you dear brother?"<br>
<br>
<br>
She mocked a shocked look, her jaw slightly a gape as she looked away from him. "I will say, if this is so I would say you are more talented than you let on."<br>
<br>
<br>
She spoke with such vibrancy and life in her tone. She was very much alive, every fiber of her being seemed to scream it.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin remained standing in his place at conversation seemed to spark, he still had no clue why he even chose to approach and speak amongst children...well children and Lady Alysanne. It was as if he had just been draw to this moment. The music's tempo finally picked up into more melodic and "happier" sounding music. A younger Tywin would have maybe even taken such an opportunity to reach out and get to know the women about him, drink and possibly even dance.<br>
<br>
<br>
That was the young Tywin...things were different now, he seemed to loose a large part of himself when he lost his wife. But he hated talking about that, it made his heart burn for Tyrion. He glanced over seeing him talk to his granddaughter. The two were a lot alike, both sort of "forgotten" by the Lanisters'.<br>
<br>
<br>
He looked down as he heard Alysanne's voice, “How do you find the winter, Lord Tywin?”<br>
<br>
<br>
He shifted his weight and went to answer when suddenly and excited voice voiced out, "Tywin! Won’t you tell us about the war with the Reynes? Please?” He felt a strange energy and wasn't sure why.<br>
<br>
<br>
For a rare time Tywin hesitated, "Perhaps another time," He actually smiled a little. Flattered by the boy's excitement. "I fear that tonight is suppose to be a time of celebration. Best not to brag at such times...bad luck for the next battles they say." He said with a firm nod. He seemed like he was going to walk away when he finally answered Alysanne, "It's colder then I remember." He commented flatly.<br>
<br>
<br>
"However, as that Starks always say Winter is Coming. I don't believe you've lived through a winter yet." He said crossing his arms.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Luckily we will all be in King's Landing, hopefully we can keep the winter out as long as we can." He said coolly, debating on whether or not he should adjourn else where.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">“Well, I am the older one,” Jon said with a joking grin at Sorelle’s shock. He knew it was false, as false as the implications of his words, for he laughed and shook his head, “No, I’m afraid I’m no better than Robb, but I’m certainly not bad.”<br>
<br>
<br>
He was modest, of course. Arya and Robb, more than Sansa, had taught him a bit about dancing since he wasn’t ever ‘officially’ taught the art. It was for those more noble than he was. Arya, obviously, wasn’t the best partner. Their height and age differences made things a bit problematic, and Robb wasn’t good at not-leading.<br>
<br>
<br>
There were a few hilarious stories that Theon had in his arsenal from Robb’s attempts to teach Jon how to dip his partner. “I’d be honored if I could share a dance with you, though. It isn’t often Winterfell is so alive,” and she didn’t seem to mind titles, so perhaps she wouldn’t mind a dance with him.<br>
<br>
<br>
He extended his hand in the hope it would be taken, “You can teach me how to be better, if nothing else,” though he’d take the lessons he had to heart, and do his utmost to lead. He just might leave out that dipping part. Too many bumped noses and laughter. It wouldn’t be good for the image of the princess to get tripped up in such a mess.<br>
<br>
<br>
~***~<br>
<br>
<br>
Bran looked disappointed when Tywin denied him the story. A pout came to his lips, but he didn’t press the matter. Tywin didn’t look as friendly as Jaime, and Bran decided he’d see if Jaime might tell him, later. There was so much he wanted to ask the Kingslayer. His father, Eddard, didn’t like him but the red-headed boy was fascinated as to how a man who killed a king could remain a King’s Guard. He was certain there was more to the story.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora was relieved, but she kept it masked beneath a calm demeanor. Beneath the table, her nails dug into the clothe of her dress. She canted her head and smirked a little at Tywin’s assessment, “I was born in winter, Lord Tywin,” only after it was spoken did she realize it wasn’t true—well, by the Farman lie, anyway. Winter had ended. “Winter was only nine years ago, too,” she distracted from the lie. “Surely you don’t think me a child?” There was a challenge in her tone, that could almost be called friendly.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya however, noted the tension. She grabbed Bran’s arm, “C’mon,” she said, and gave him no explanation before pulling him along. Rickon, ever uncomfortable without his siblings, ran after them as Arya decided to target Sansa. A bit of mashed potatoes were found, and she organized Bran and Rickon quickly to cause a distraction that would draw her sister’s eyes.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sure, they were focused on Joffrey, but Sansa might see the potatoes fly out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to hit the back of Sansa’s head.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle grinned as Jon countered her quick remarks, she loved word play, she loved having her mind stimulated by people who could come back at her with good conversation. There was nothing she found more pleasing then being with those blessed with wit. "Not much one to brag on yourself are you?" She said easily. Her eyes sort of looking over him gingerly, he was much taller then her, she swore to herself that she'd also never seen hair so curly or dark in all of her seventeen years. His eyes were dark but seemed to be gentle as well.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I’d be honored if I could share a dance with you, though. It isn’t often Winterfell is so alive,” Sorelle for considered herself...for about only a few seconds before looking at her mother, who was still staring at her before taking Jon's hand lightly. Her hand seeming so small withing his own, "Are you sure, you'd like to dance with me?" She said her tone playing once more as they moved gradually among the other patrons. "I feel as though the honor is going to be mine and mine alone, how selfish of me." She said as she placed one hand on his shoulder as the other remained  within his palm.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle glanced over at Robb who was looking deeply in this other girl's eyes, it made her smile warm and she and Robb seemed to exchange s knowing look before she looked back at Jon.<br>
<br>
<br>
She raised a brow, "You haven't stepped on my foot yet." She smirked, "You're already doing better than half the nobility I've dancing with before." She grinned and looked about the room, this felt like some sort of lovely dream. Here it felt like she wasn't some unsociable being, she felt like perhaps she fit in, like she flitted among the crowds easier here then back home. Which was understandable. King's Landing was great deal bigger than here.<br>
<br>
<br>
She felt the North had something the South didn't she couldn't fathom what it was, the hospitality? The kindness?  Perhaps how everyone seemed to have a sence of family. She thought sadly on Lord Eddard, did he accept her father's proposal...she wondered how Jon and the other children would handle and suddenly she felt bad for the situation.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin felt surprised, he wasn't sure if he was happy to be challenged by someone or if he actually felt threatened or offended.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Well does being called a child upset you?" He asked, he was speaking nearly the way he seemed to be speak with Cersei, as if he were playing a game. He sat back and glanced over her, some faces she made seemed to be eerily similar to some sort of ghosts that plagued his mind. He shook from such thoughts, it was just his haunted mind, taunting him.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her red hair flickered in the light of the fires lit and candles shrouding her, it was nearly ethereal.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her skin seemed all aglow, there was no doubt she was young, young, vibrant and alive. Things that all encompassed who Tywin no longer was.<br>
<br>
<br>
At what point had it all shifted? When did he loose that spark? Where did it all go wrong.<br>
<br>
<br>
He looked over at Cersei, and Robert, her fat lumbering husband seemed to careless for her. Cersei was lovely and favored her mother, he didn't show it like he knew he could but Cersei had a place special in his heart. It saddened him to see how her and her husband didn't seem fond of each other. Tywin looked away shutting out the thoughts in his head.<br>
<br>
<br>
He turned back to Alysanne who still seemed to be waiting on some sort of response, he quickly countered her response with ease, "Yes, Yes, I do find you to be a child." He said, voice serious. He then straightened before relieving the tension, "Well...compared to my many years of life I believe you to be." He admitted taking a seat on the same bench as Alysanne but  keeping a distance and keeping a curious eye on Sorelle and the bastard.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Jon smiled in response to her question, and let his actions speak his answer as he brought her with steps onto the dancing floor proper, and then moved his other hand to a place on the small of her back. The song was still an upbeat one, and he knew there would be plenty of moving away from her and adjusting the position of his hand, but he had to start out in the proper position.<br>
<br>
<br>
When she said the honor would be all hers, he felt the heat of Catelyn’s gaze. He didn’t need to look, he knew the feel of it, “Oh, I doubt that very much.” He supposed honor wasn’t really involved in this. Pleasure might have been a better word, but of course, he thought of it too late.<br>
<br>
<br>
As he did move her about the floor, he only occasionally found himself looking down to make sure he didn’t step on her feet. Whenever he looked up, his eyes briefly went out to the others around—other dancers, family, Benjen, the Imp, Alysanne—curiously without Arya, but his gaze always returned to Sorelle.<br>
<br>
<br>
Catelyn would be angry with him, but for once in his life, he didn’t care about angering her so much as he did about enjoying what might very well be his last party for a long time.<br>
<br>
<br>
He laughed at her compliment, “Well, thank you,” he was surprised to hear the Lords south of him weren’t better at dancing. He had expected they were experts, from all the pretty stories that came from Sansa. The South sounded like a dream, if one listened to Sansa, though.<br>
<br>
<br>
As he was thinking of his sister, he heard her shriek, “ARYA!” And on a turn of Sorelle he stumbled over his own feet in a poorly stifled laugh as he saw Sansa’s face painted with gravy and potato. It didn’t stop the music, nor the fun of others. He saw Arya scamper away to hide, quickly, and Sansa’s friend tried to get her to sit down, and wiped at his sister’s face with a cloth napkin.<br>
<br>
<br>
The heat of Catelyn's glare left Jon, to instead become exasperated at her own flesh and blood.<br>
<br>
<br>
~***~<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘Does being called a child upset you?’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
It was a queer question. The instant response was yes—yes of course, but it was almost immediately reconsidered. If Tywin thought so little of her in regards to intelligence, that could be an advantage over him later.<br>
<br>
<br>
Yet, she had a lion’s pride. It was a double-edged sword, and when the golden lion flexed his experience, the smile that came to her lips came easily. It was lazy. It was wicked. One hand lifted from the cloth of her dress to rest on the table, easily pushing plates away that would dirty her sleeve, “So were you an infant when you bested the Reynes and Tarbecks?”<br>
<br>
<br>
She knew the history and the story. The question was rhetorical, and she lifted her other hand, “And a mere child during Robert’s Rebellion?” For that was the time he was near the age that she was now. “If so, you shouldn’t speak in such a tone about we inexperienced ones,” a turn of the wrist in the air, “for you’ve done much before reaching adulthood.” It was flattery in a way, but she couldn’t leave it at just that. “It’d be interesting to see what you’re capable of as an adult—or do you consider yourself a teenager?” A twist of the wrist put the question to him in a gesture, as well as in words. She’d carry the conversation on, for in truth she didn’t get to have much fun spinning words except on occasion with Sorelle or Tyrion.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘Keep your friends close.’</i> The saying went. <i>‘And keep your enemies closer.’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
There was an outcry, but Leora didn’t need to look to see the cause. The voice was clear, the name clearer, and Leora saw Arya bolt right by. Rather than look back, she offered a shrug and a motion towards Arya. <i>‘See what the younger ones are capable of against their elders?’</i> This simply proved her point beautifully.<br>
<br>
<br>
There was always something to learn from the younger generations.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle was rather enjoying herself, as she and Jon spun around. The air was filled with high spirits and smiles.<br>
<br>
<br>
There was a totally different vibe here than back home. At this time Robb had sat down now talking to the girl from earlier. She turned her head again to look at Robb, "He seems happy with her." she commented, her lips curving into a smile.<br>
<br>
<br>
She smiled as if she had all sorts of wild ideas in her head of the couple of love birds that sat at the table. Suddenly, Sorelle's eyes looked about when she heard Sansa, "ARYA!" She felt Jon manage to stumble over himself without stepping all over her.<br>
<br>
<br>
Joffrey looked like he could laugh and Sansa looked like she could cry...<br>
<br>
<br>
The girl Robb was sitting with rushed to wipe off her face, Lady Catilyn's eyes bored into Arya as she laughed and ran away. She sent Robb after her but the music refused to rest as it played onward.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle bit her lip before laughing melodically, she had caught Jon partially her small hands supporting his shoulders. She glanced over at her mother who stared at her, she dropped her eyes to the floor coyly, "I believe if we plan to continue hanging around each other we should seek our entertainment elsewhere." She said her voice cool as she nodded towards her mother.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Any ideas?" Her voice had a tone of childish mischief. Sometimes it felt as if she purposefully got herself in trouble. She loved just running off, exploring, escaping the routine life of royalty.<br>
<br>
<br>
Seeking adventure over all else, that was what she breathed for. She arched a brow sort of glancing from side to side, she caught sight of Alysanne talking to Leora and quickly gave her a sort of 'What the hell?' Look.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin awaited her to answer his tantalizing and taunting question, for some reason it felt like it was itching at him to try to get a rise out of her.<br>
<br>
<br>
He watched as she pushed her plate away with her sleeve, she moved always with an unspoken grace.<br>
<br>
<br>
 “So were you an infant when you bested the Reynes and Tarbecks?” He pondered on her comment, she was toying with him now. “And a mere child during Robert’s Rebellion?” He titled his head, placing his hands behind his back.  “If so, you shouldn’t speak in such a tone about we inexperienced ones, for you’ve done much before reaching adulthood.” Was she complimenting him? Or was she making a pass at him without trying to make it obvious. Her wit never betrayed her.<br>
<br>
<br>
She spoke to him again and he listened closely hanging onto his words,  “It’d be interesting to see what you’re capable of as an adult—or do you consider yourself a teenager?” for the first time probably since arriving in Winterfell the side of his mouth turned up slightly.<br>
<br>
<br>
"How you speak...I've never heard anything like it in my entire life." He took a seat, putting himself at ease.<br>
<br>
<br>
He remained a distance but let himself release some tension in the air, "Where does such temperament come from...your mother? or your father?" He asked curiously. He found that family triats were ALWAYS strong.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jamie approached, hand always on the hilt of his sword, he stepped into listening curiously and wondering why his father had seemed to take up conversation with Sorelle's hand maiden.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Jon was glad that Sorelle had the same sense of humor, and found herself also laughing at poor Sansa’s fate and Arya’s reckless behavior. He felt her hand steady him so he didn’t fall over her, and he appreciated it. It helped to remind him to steady himself, too, and his grin was genuine as he passed it to her, before she looked down.<br>
<br>
<br>
It faltered then, turned down as he heard the quiet words part her lips. <i>‘Ah, right.’</i> He was a bastard and she was a princess. This was already highly improper. <i>‘Just had to listen to Arya.’</i> And she’d never spoken a word. It had all been heavily implied in her actions and gestures.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Well,” he spoke slowly, “your handmaiden wanted to show Arya a few things. I don’t think she’s able to leave until you choose to retire,” he cast a glance towards the red-headed woman, seeing her rise to greet Jaime Lannister. He found it strange that Tywin was at the table with her, and pondered what it could mean.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘Didn’t she mention trouble?’</i> Except, Alysanne didn’t appear to be in any trouble at all.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Perhaps you could get tired soon?” He suggested, “I can step out at any time. No one will notice me—I’ll leave when Arya does.” Since the little girl was bound not to be long after Alysanne. He was quite certain the two of them had planned it, without speaking, to be done separately so as not to draw suspicious to their own hanging about.<br>
<br>
<br>
Catelyn would be most displeased if Arya were caught at swordplay with another person.<br>
<br>
<br>
~***~<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora could see that she was making quite the impression, and she was almost impressed with herself as she saw the curve of Tywin’s lip move, as if to smile. <i>‘He never….’</i> It was the story told of Tywin, the legend, that he never truly smiled.<br>
<br>
<br>
What power, then, to draw him towards that with mere words. It was intoxicating in a way wine could never be. “You ought to visit the Isles more often, I think,” though it wasn’t the Isle that taught her. It was a man of Volantis. It was her own father’s blood. The Isles were different, though. They did have more folk of the Free Cities there, which did aid to its queer atmosphere.<br>
<br>
<br>
“My temperament? I believe it comes from my mother, Cerissa,” it didn’t, of course, but that didn’t matter. Tywin likely didn’t know Cerissa well enough to know if it were true. That he was asking at all suggested he hadn’t known either Lewys or Cerissa well.<br>
<br>
<br>
She shifted her green eyes towards the white knight as he approached, and then rose. It was on her lips to ask Tywin for a dance, just to see how he’d react, but instead she lifted her glass and politely nodded to Jaime, “Ser Jaime,” she greeted him, “Did you need your father?” Her rise an indication that she would leave if such were the case. She’d not stand between father and son if they had private matters to discuss.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle looked quickly between Jon and he adults as they either laughed or became heated over the recent events. She shifted uneasily, as she heard Jon's voice speaking in a low tone in reply, “your handmaiden wanted to show Arya a few things. I don’t think she’s able to leave until you choose to retire,” She nodded, casting a glance towards Alysanne, her eyes widened, strange that not only had she got her grandfather's attention but now Jamie's too?<br>
<br>
<br>
“Perhaps you could get tired soon?” She heard Jon say, “I can step out at any time. No one will notice me—I’ll leave when Arya does.” Sorelle smiled dangerously, "You know...I <i><b>am </b></i>starting to feel-" She yawned mockingly, "very, very tired out...I should definitely let dear Alysanne know."<br>
<br>
<br>
She stepped away from Jon, smiling knowing it was all a ploy to go out and have some fun about the castle, she wondered if Arya had already been in the courtyard? She sorted out in her mind what she was going to say as the approached, the train of her dress tugging slightly behind her.<br>
<br>
<br>
~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin glanced towards the ceiling, "Yes, perhaps I should make time to visit the isles...I'm plagued however, with more responsibility than necessary." He commented. "My children couldn't live without me present." He said as Jamie approached as if to point of to Alysanne, 'Speaking to which.'<br>
<br>
<br>
He watched as Alysanne, stood, her dress falling on her figure perfectly. She lifted her glass with a practiced hand and nodded to his son,  "Ser Jamie." she greeted, "Did you need your father?" Jamie shook his head slightly, bond locks falling around his face, "No, I was merely coming over to speak with you two, I was curious for entertainment."<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin looked at him as if he was stupid. Although he seemed to look at a lot of people that way. Tywim looked over his shoulder to also see his granddaughter coming towards them.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle nodded gracefully towards the curious threesome, "Good evening family, Alysanne." Tywin and Jamie nodded back.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Did our princess enjoy dancing?" Jamie said eyes slightly narrowed as if to throw a half snide remark.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle seemed unphased, she smiled broadly, "Yes, Uncle Jamie, both partners were simply delightful!"<br>
<br>
<br>
Tywin wanted to scoff, Sorelle appointed her attention to her friend, "Alysanne, I fear I'm close to all warn out, if you'd be so kind as to come retire with me for the night?" She said gently, there was a slight sparkle in her blue eyes that only Alysanne would understand that their plans for earlier were set in motion.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Jaime was bored. It caused an amused grin to come to Leora’s face, and she shook her head slightly, recalling Tywin’s words just moments before Jaime had arrived.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘This is the gods curse to you.’</i> Leora wouldn’t believe in any deity that would reward Tywin for genocide, after all. “Well, we were merely discussing experiences, Ser,” Leora began, but then caught sight of the princess approaching. She lifted her green eyes to meet Sorelle’s expectantly.<br>
<br>
<br>
The glimmer in Sorelle’s told her all she needed to know. Her fun with the Lannisters was up for the night, and what a pity. She was just starting to get to know her prey. <i>‘Patience.’</i> Leora had plenty of that.<br>
<br>
<br>
And so, she nodded to Sorelle’s words, “Of course, I will escort you back to our room, my lady,” Leora was a touch more formal than necessary, considering Tywin and Jaime were there. She stepped to Sorelle, offering her arm, and offering parting words, “Ser Jaime, my Lord Lannister,” there was a lilt there, reminiscent of the phrase from the <i>Rains of Castamere</i>, but just short enough a phrase that it might go unnoticed, “I bid you both a good night and I pray you find some entertainment, Ser,” again to Jaime, with a nod.<br>
<br>
<br>
With Sorelle, Leora would exit the grand hall, though not before catching Jon’s eye. He gave a barely perceptible nod, and Leora knew she’d find him soon enough.<br>
<br>
<br>
Once out of the grand hall, she dared to comment, “I see you had fun with Snow,” a teasing grin on her lips. “Whatever happened with the Lord Robb?” She inquired, turning their path towards the room. Leora wasn’t, after all, going to show Arya how to fight in a dress. She’d end up tearing it, and this one was far too nice for that.<br>
<br>
<br>
~***~<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon Snow let Sorelle go to Alysanne alone, and he himself went to get another drink of water. His dark gray eyes skimmed the room as he walked with the cup in hand, noting the activities of some of the other. Robb was chatting up another girl, and it caused Jon to sigh and roll his eyes. <i>‘Really, Robb?’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
He wondered if Robb would be able to get Ned’s permission to marry someone else, while his eyes went over towards Sansa. The potato was off her face now. <i>‘Probably.’</i> Sansa would still want to marry Joffrey, no doubt. That would be a strong enough connection between the North and the capital.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘I wonder if he would….’</i> But the thoughts were dashed as his eyes ran over Catelyn, and he sucked in the water quickly, and turned his head from the woman. No, and even if Ned would, Robert would have none of it. Only someone of truly noble blood would do for royalty, and besides, he was heading for the wall. <i>‘So just make the best of this night.’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
His eyes saw Arya scamper out, just as he caught the green-eyes of Alysanne. He gave a slight nod and then set his cup aside and walked off to find an exit that would make catching up with Arya easy. She knew plenty of Winterfell’s secrets, but not all of them—Jon had many more years of exploring the castle on her, after all.<br>
<br>
<br>
Almost as soon as he was out of the room, he felt something brush against his leg. He looked down and smiled at the white pup, "Hello, Ghost," he greeted the albino as it walked close at his side, a quiet, white shadow. "Go ahead and find Nymeria," he whispered to it, certain it would understand, and also certain that Nymeria would be hot on Arya's tracks.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ghost took to leading, and it did bring Jon to Arya before she'd caught up with the two noblewomen from the south.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle eyes met with Alysanne's as she responded to her easily,  “Of course, I will escort you back to our room, my lady,” Sorelle felt so satisfied, so thrilled her night was far from over. She tried to quit smiling so happily, she let her eyes fall to the floor and shift about. Her friend stepped forward offering her arm, to which she took gratefully. “Ser Jaime, my Lord Lannister,” Sorelle also dipped her head, "I bid you good night, grandfather, uncle." She said making a short bow. “I bid you both a good night and I pray you find some entertainment, Ser,” Alysanne nodded to Jamie. The two walked towards the exit. She glanced up to her father but he was so far gone she decided best to not try to tell him she was going to bed.<br>
<br>
<br>
Her mother on the other hand, was some where not to be seen...perhaps she had gone to bed.<br>
<br>
<br>
Regardless, she was glad to be spending time else where, in a less...formal setting.<br>
<br>
<br>
Before they left the Great Hall she noticed Jon, her hand maiden exchanged a knowing look between the two that meant the plan was now in full swing. She smiled to herself, sometime she seemed almost like she knew everything when she smiled that way. She looked like she had everything under control sort of look written all over her. She was clueless of this of course.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I see you had fun with Snow,” Alysanne commented boldly, Sorelle stammered, "You...You saw?" She straightened pretending again to be unphased, she shook it off a slightly curl of lip, "Right, I'm sure everyone saw." She said facing the facts.<br>
<br>
<br>
"He is very..." she searched her mental dictionary, "Why I'm not sure how to put it." She admitted. No one had ever made her feel so at ease before and it seemed to have her stumped, "Oh, I don't know Alysanne, he is just...different. I suppose you could say I believe he had very...endearing qualities, he is very good company, his conversation seems to be stimulating." She realized she was talking to much and making herself sound stupid.<br>
<br>
<br>
She was glad for the changed of subject, “Whatever happened with the Lord Robb?” Asked her friend as they rounded the corner to their room, "Oh...yes, about that..." Sorelle gathered her thoughts, "He is very, very handsome and kind and seems to be a excitable person. But, I just...caught him staring across the room. Frankly, Alysanne, if I man looked at me that way in the arms of another I'd prayed they'd send him to me too. So I told him to go to her." She said easily. "I know people will question my motives. However, I did what I felt right in my own mind." She said calmly as they entered their room.<br>
<br>
<br>
She helped Alysanne without a word untying the back of her dress ad turning to have her own undone. She would changed into something easier to move in, perhaps not so constricting. She grabbed a red dress with muslin print upon it, it was a straighter gown, not hardly any underskirts. She turned to take note of what she friend had changed into. Something easier to fight in, she admired her mentor. In her own mind she hoped to turn out just like her. She was the mother and sister she never had.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Leora could have given a hundred reasons to explain why Jon was different, and she would have compared him to the imp in doing so. It boiled down to one point: Jon had something to prove. He was a bastard of a noble house, not unlike the imp. He’d never amount to anything by his blood alone, as Jaime and Robb would, so he had to work at it. He had to educate himself. He had to do <i>more</i> than other men ever would.<br>
<br>
<br>
It did make him endearing. It would have made Tyrion beloved, were he not horrendous to look upon. That was Tyrion’s one flaw, and to many, that was not a minor flaw. His physical development meant many things, and none of them any good. He couldn’t fight, though Leora was certain his mind could build as many cruel strategies as his Lord father.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘The malformed are often kinder.’</i> Leora thought it of the Hound, too.<br>
<br>
<br>
Those with something to prove could be kinder. Not all. Tywin had fallen into that camp, once, after all. Perhaps if he'd been malformed, he would have been kind. Alas, he was not, and his own countenance spoke of the beauty he'd had in his youth, considering he was still fair to look upon. His way of proving himself had been in genocide.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I see I’ll have to have a talk with your father, then,” Leora did advise him, every now and then, on matters of his daughter. “I’ll see to it that he lets Robb go to be with his woman. He wouldn’t want you to face a life of neglect,” as Robert neglected his own wife.<br>
<br>
<br>
She could not speak for Jon’s favor, but then, Leora could hope that Sorelle would find someone else as captivating as him, a second son of a family with much to prove, and a kindness to him that matched Jon’s own. Bran popped into her head, but she shook the thought off as they entered the room, and Leora stripped herself of her gown with the assistance of Sorelle. She also helped Sorelle out of her own attire.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle went for red, which did bring a smile to Leora’s own lips. She, too, put on red but it was a burnt hue, leather, and certainly not a dress. She pulled her own hair back and tied it up in a high ponytail before reaching for the gloves and slipping them on her own fingers. The sword was added to her hip, and then the silver cloak was put on over everything. The gloves and cloak would come off in fighting, of course, but she’d not inflict unnecessary pain on her fingers before showing off for Arya.<br>
<br>
<br>
<i>‘Speak of the little wolf.’</i><br>
<br>
<br>
There was a rapid knock at the door and Leora stifled a laugh as she approached the door and saw Arya there, with Jon Snow at her side. She was looking rapidly down the stairs, and then back up. “There you are!” A hushed whisper. “Come on, come on, Jon thinks we were followed!”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Ghost does,” Ghost kept closer to the bend of the stairs, the white pup looking into the darkness with his red eyes. Jon motioned then to it, “My direwolf,” since Nymeria had already been introduced, and was at Arya’s feet.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Come on!” Arya hissed again, and darted down the steps quickly. Leora wasn’t sure what was so bad about being followed, but she went along with Arya’s urgency and passed by Jon so he could walk behind with Sorelle.<br>
<br>
<br>
It was he who explained to her, “My sister gets in trouble for her more…boyish habits,” so any threat to them was taken seriously by the girl.<br>
<br>
<br>
As such, the girl pushed against the wall part-way down the stairs and revealed a passage, which she slipped into. Leora’s eyes widened, impressed, before she slipped in after the dark-haired girl.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle whirled about as a rapid knock fell upon the door, she pulled her hair to one side and straightened her dress. Alysanne held back a little laugh as she approached the door to see none other than their previous company. It was pleasing to see them again. Arya's eyes were wide with childlike excitement. It even gave Sorelle a rush of unexpected "forbidden" fun. "There you are!" The little girl said in a whisper, "Come on, come on, Jon thinks we were followed!"<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle's eyes locked on Jon curiously, "Ghost does." He replied, she cast her eyes down the stairs and narrowed her eyes to see in the torch lit halls, a little white pup stood at the stairs watching. Sorelle stepped out of her courtiers, to get a better look, it appeared to be an albino dire wolf pup. She thought to herself how addorable it looked like the other one,  but also how it had a completely different look to it as well, very unique. "My dire wolf." Clarified Jon, as the pup's red eyes stared back up towards them.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Come on!" Arya hissed, as she took to the stairs with ease, it was easier to move in Sorelle's current dress but the length was still quite long so she tried to move quickly and carefully. She stumbled at one point and kept moving, keeping her pace at little trot down the steps. Sorelle felt Jon close at her side, immediately it felt like something from a book she'd read to which the characters had to escape some fate.<br>
<br>
<br>
She grinned and whispered lightly for her friends to hear, "I feel like I've read this in a book once, let's hope this time however, the characters aren't caught up by goblins." She said jokingly.<br>
<br>
<br>
“My sister gets in trouble for her more…boyish habits,” Said Jon, Sorelle scoffed quietly, "That's rubbish...and all nonsense too, my father probably would allow me a sword if my mother didn't have a say in things. She already throws a fit when I go hunting with the men." Sorelle shrugged, "It's ridiculous, why if I had daughters I'd like to know they could fend for themselves." She commented clearly.<br>
<br>
<br>
The thought of her ever having children was too wild for her to consider...part of her didn't want to really.<br>
<br>
<br>
She felt the world was getting worst at times and that bringing a life into it was unfair to the innocent soul.<br>
<br>
<br>
Everyone stopped suddenly, Sorelle released most of the dress she had practically held in her arms so not to trip while trotting down the stairs, she stood wonderstruck as the little girl had pressed a spot in the wall. She had heard of such things as secret passages but hearing and seeing are two different things. Much like seeing and believe are two very different things.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle made eye contact with Alysanne, both seemingly impressed before she watched her friend slipped into the darkness. She reached out for Jon's hand and breathed in. "I hate the dark." She said eyes cast forward. "Let's make this quick and painless." She said always trying to keep her good natured wit about her and she moved close behind Alysanne.<br>
<br>
<br>
She wondered to herself where exactly this would lead them, sure if they were being followed they had lost them now!</div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-3650943" data-lb-caption-desc="Lucyfer · Aug 4, 2015 at 10:07 PM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper">The darkness was no enemy to Leora Reyne. If anything, it was like an old friend to her, so familiar was she with hiding. She had forgotten that was not so with Sorelle, and she almost reached back for her. However, she saw the movement of another hand, and let the dark hide her smile.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Don’t worry,” Jon’s words were reassuring as he took hold of Sorelle’s hand, “This passage isn’t too long. We’ll be out and under the moon very soon. No goblins. I promise.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Aww,” Leora and Arya spoke the complaint in unison, and then laughed at the shared disappointment. They couldn’t see the way Jon glared at the two of them. He was the one who stepped in, and shut the passage behind them, trapping them in darkness.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I know the way,” Arya said, “So just follow the sounds.”<br>
<br>
<br>
With that, Arya darted on ahead. Leora was right on her tail. Jon made sure to move slower, considering who he had with him. Ghost took the lead for them, but would glance back now and then. His eyes caught what little light there was, and always reflected it back for the two, so that they would know how to follow him. Jon decided to speak, in the hopes of keeping things ‘light’ in the darkness that engulfed them. He spoke at a whisper, “I’m glad to hear there are some different ways of thinking out there, about women,” hearing Sansa’s stories, Jon feared that there was one way, and one way only.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya’s dreaming and rare women warriors weren’t very convincing. Seeing Leora, and seeing that she was helping to raise a princess, inspired confidence in him. “I’m sure all the daughters you have will be beautiful and powerful women. Worthy of the same admiration as Nymeria,” it was the first name to come to mind, considering the dire wolf with Arya.<br>
<br>
<br>
There was a sudden light, bright and white, that caused Jon to lift up his hand to shield his eyes as Arya opened the passage out into the snow. “See, not that long at all,” Jon breathed a sigh of relief as the pain diminished.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The practice yard is around this way!” Arya said, little concern now that they were out in the open. She made a motion and started to walk along Winterfell towards the practice yard, Leora trailing behind and crossing her arms around her chest in a vain effort to hold in warmth.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle made brief eye contact with her mentor, she thought she could see a sly smile. To which the princess returned the favor with a quick playful motion of sticking her tongue out at her behind her back. Sorelle seemed to have a constant flow of vibrant energy.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Don't worry." She heard Jon say, his voice assuring. Her hand felt quite small within his own and it was nice making simple contact like this. She felt simply gestures like this were few and far between being royalty. “This passage isn’t too long. We’ll be out and under the moon very soon. No goblins. I promise.”<br>
<br>
<br>
"Awww!" Was the sound heard next coming from Arya and Alysanne in perfect unison as like a choir. Sorelle rolled her eyes in mock disbelief as Jon closed the door behind them, letting the dark engulf them.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle decided to look over the two's remark and smirked, "Oh?" She questioned Jon in a-matter-of-fact sort of way, "But what of the trolls?" She played back and scoffed a little at herself. It wasn't horribly dark, although it also wasn't horribly light either. She trusted Jon and what she <i><b>could </b></i>barely make out before her. Typically she felt like she would be afraid to do this on her own, but not with this group, no...she felt in fact unstoppable now.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I know the way," She heard Arya's bright voice pipe up, "Just follow the sounds." Sorelle obeyed and listened to the girl's foot steps ahead of her. If Cersei knew what she was doing she'd be in a whole knew world of trouble.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle was caught in her mind imagining all the ways she may be punished if she were to be found out when a voice, called her again back to the present, she was thankful for it. “I’m glad to hear there are some different ways of thinking out there, about women,” Jon's voice was gentle in a whisper. Sorelle smiled warmly to her herself, “I’m sure all the daughters you have will be beautiful and powerful women. Worthy of the same admiration as Nymeria,” She felt her cheeks for the first time get warm under such flattery. She thanked the gods' for the darkness. She gave Jon's hand a light squeeze in return, "Id like to think so..." She whispered back. She sighed a little, "I am afraid however," She admitted for the first time actually sounded rather serious instead of playful and full of wit. "I don't trust what this world is coming to." She said coolly. "It would be...sad to have children and they not be taken care of properly. Especially if I were to have them in winter!" She exclaimed quietly. Trying to lighten the mood of her subject. "I have no idea how children in the North survive. Perhaps us Southern children are weak." She said raising a brow as she began to see light again.<br>
<br>
<br>
She closed her eyes as she snow and moonlight were near to blinding,  “See, not that long at all,” Said Jon with sigh. Sorelle slowly blinked into the new light, like a new creature born into the light of night. She walked out into the yard, moonlight bathing her features. She glanced at Alysanne who appeared ethereal in such light. She always thought her friend to be one of the loveliest ladies she'd ever seen.<br>
<br>
<br>
She felt her hand still holding onto Jon's and debated in her head whether she should let ago, though she would admit the warmth of his hand around her own was marvelous since she had so stupidly forgot gloves. She mentally smacked herself.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The practice yard is around this way!” Said Arya in haste. She watched as Alysanne crossed her arms and shivered slightly, she should have worn more cloaks! Though Sorelle...then she was reminded that she was going to be practicing sword play and that she probably didn't wear so many layers for a reason. Perhaps when he blood got pumping it would help warm her up.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">As they stepped out into the light, and started to follow Alysanne and Arya, Jon couldn’t help but ask, “You would call Alysanne weak?” He wondered at her generalization about Northern women.<br>
<br>
<br>
That was one woman Jon would not want to cross. He hadn’t even seen her fight, but she had a way of carrying herself that suggested it a lifetime of experiences. He added on, “The world needs strong and good people to combat the winter. They bring hope. Warmth,” warmth that he felt even through his gloved hand that held Sorelle’s. He imagined she must be freezing.<br>
<br>
<br>
Practical and selfish reasons had him keep hold of her hand.<br>
<br>
<br>
The group stepped into the practice yard, the snow cleared there, and Arya quickly came to the center of the field and seemed to bounce on her toes there. “Find me two wooden swords, Arya.” Leora said, starting to peel the gloves from her hands.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Wooden?” Arya sounded disappointed, “I can fight with steel.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“I can fight better,” no modesty. “I can’t teach you anything with steel, though.” She’d likely kill the girl on accident. “Go on now, Arya.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya let out a frustrated noise, but ran off to fetch the wooden swords. Leora turned to Jon and Sorelle, “Catch,” she spoke to Sorelle before tossing her gloves to the woman who had forgotten them.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya started to run back with the swords then, both modeled after longswords. “Catch!” Arya echoed Leora’s word, and Leora turned in time to deftly catch the wooden blade with one hand.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle whipped her head around in mock offence, "Alysanne?! Never." She said laughing slightly, "No...not her. She's one of the strongest women I know." She said admiringly. "She practically raised me..." She said in nearly a whisper. She thought back on the many times spent together, she was taught so much from her, how to act, dance, sit, walk, speak, read, write just about everything. Alysanne and her father shared the joy of teaching her to ride and hunt. Thanks to the two of them she was indeed a great horsewoman. She loved horse back riding a to her she felt unattached to the ground as if her spirit were soaring.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The world needs strong and good people to combat the winter. They bring hope. Warmth," She heard Jon say, she held onto his hand as they moved forward, "Hmmm...you mean like you, right?" She said her wit never one betraying her. She enjoyed word play and keeping people on their toes around her. With her free hand she drew her cloak tightly around her and pulled up her hood, bits of snow clung in her dark curls.<br>
<br>
<br>
The four in the group came to a halt as they entered the courtyard, Sorelle looked around herself, observing her surrounding under an ice blue gaze. She watched amused as Arya darted to the center of the area. She seemed to be jump up and down the excitement she had was contagious as Sorelle seemed to smiled brightly.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Find me two wooden swords, Arya.” Said Alysanne a she took off her gloves, reveling her red finger nails. “Wooden?” Arya sounded quite upset, “I can fight with steel.” Sorelle smirked at the girl's remarks and nudged Jon nodding towards his little sister. This family was certainly growing on the young princess.<br>
<br>
<br>
"I can fight better." Retorted Alysanne with ease. It was true, her mentor was a champion no doubt,  “I can’t teach you anything with steel, though.” This was smart because someone, mean Arya, could get seriously hurt.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Go on now, Arya.” Said Alysanne the girl huffed and stamped away angrily yet a glimmer of excitement still burned in her eyes. "Catch" Said Alysanne, Sorelle turned her attention towards her as gloves few in her direction. Sorelle gasped and jerked suddnely barely catching them, "How delayed of me!" Exclaimed Sorelle playfully. She smiled at Alysanne and winked, "Thank you, perhaps my hands won't freeze off." She joked as she slipped her hands into the gloves. She looked back at Jon and down at Ghost. "I wish I had a dire wolf," she said bending down carefully extending a hand towards the pup to see if it would come near.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle managed to catch the gloves, though it broke her contact with Jon. Jon seemed to remember himself in the moment, and he took a step to the side from Sorelle and looked to the two women with the swords.<br>
<br>
<br>
His expression showed confusion as he saw the stance Alysanne took. It was no stance he’d ever seen anyone take before. It almost seemed like a dancer’s posture, but that didn’t seem right. “Show me what you can do first, Arya.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon found his brotherly instincts twisting his heart, not following Sorelle’s interest in Ghost. He did say, “No you don’t. They eat a lot,” for Ghost was a hassle to feed—they all were. Fortunately, Ghost had no malign intentions with Sorelle. The dire wolf crept forward, nose close to the ground until it was near enough to sniff Sorelle’s hand. It lifted its head to do just that, and then let out a warm breath against her hand.<br>
<br>
<br>
It didn’t come forward to brush its head against her hand, but it didn’t run off once it had finished assessing her. It remained still, patient, observant.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya, meanwhile, ran headlong at the red-head and tried to thrust the wooden sword into her gut. It missed, of course. Leora simply took one step and let Arya stumble over her own feet. The little girl was quick to turn, and quick to try the thrust again—slashing wasn’t well learned yet. She only knew the ‘hit them with the pointy end’ trick.<br>
<br>
<br>
Again, Leora simply moved, this time backwards, which urged Arya to try and come forward, to continue pursuit, but as soon as she thrust again, Leora slammed her wooden sword down on Arya’s and sent it flying from her hands.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora put her own wooden sword at Arya’s neck, causing the girl to freeze. A wicked smile danced on her lips, “Oh, there is much to teach you. First trick is to remember that swords are sharp for a reason. Slashing is just as effective as thrusting,” she removed the blade from Arya’s neck, and motioned with it. “Go pick your sword up again.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya dutifully ran to do that.<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon asked, “What style is that?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“It’s a style from Volantis,” she answered, “I learned it from a Tiger,” Jon would have no idea what that meant, of course. “It’s a modified style of the Fiery Hand.” The Priests of R’hllor had many fighting styles, but this one was to call upon the shadows more than the light. It was more about flickering movements and evasions.<br>
<br>
<br>
“I’ve never heard of that,” Arya said as she returned with her own sword. “Why don’t you use the knight style?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Long story short, I don’t have the strength for that style.” She’d never best people like Jaime with their own style. She’d be out-muscled every time.</div>
				
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				<a href="/threads/reputations-and-redemption.551911/" class="" data-tp-primary="on" data-xf-init="preview-tooltip" data-preview-url="/threads/reputations-and-redemption.551911/preview">reputations and redemption</a>
	

	

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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle watched as the little wolf pup approached and, head carried low until it sniffed her hand, it's warmth very could be felt faintly through the thick gloves she wore. She looked up at Jon smiling broadly as the snow fell softly about them. Out in Winterfell it was like a Winter Wonderland, she felt like the North wasn't at all what she'd been told, that this land was beautiful.<br>
<br>
<br>
White caped hills rolled on and on as far as her blue eyes could see. She breathed in deeply, watching as the wolf pup, Ghost, stood right by Jon. His eyes were locked on his little sister as Alysanne and her began to engage in some sword play. Jon and Alysanne exchanged words about her fighting style, it was beautiful in her eyes. She knew if Alysanne was ever in any trouble be able to get out of it.<br>
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<br>
She stood close at Jon side, still not used to the bitter cold.<br>
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<br>
"Don't Alysanne won't hurt your sister." She commented genuinely, "The last thing we need is a war on our hands." She said seriously but all in jest. Little did she knew that war was on the winds and that the epicenter would include herself along with others..."Your brother told me you are good with sword play." She said half questioning half almost teasingly.<br>
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<br>
The three best fighters she'd ever seen were, Her Uncle Jamie, The Hound, and her mentor.<br>
<br>
<br>
Although she heard at one time her own father could hold his own.<br>
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<br>
At times she wisher could see him how he was back in his glory days, to meet Lyanna Stark, to whom her father always went on about how she reminded him of her. She told it was her natural charm, sometimes it was her eyes, other times her laugh, other wise she sheer prescience. Sometime she felt like a ghost to her father, haunting him sweetly.<br>
<br>
<br>
She thought she heard someone walking in the snow, Sorelle turned around and took a few steps towards the sound, squinting her eyes in the darkness. She felt oddly uneasy. She decided to ignore it, she saw nothing, perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her in the darkness and cold. She sighed, smoke emerging between her lips.<br>
<br>
<br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sorelle rose to stand near him, and Jon found himself leaning towards her. Perhaps it was for warmth, perhaps it was to hear her better. Whatever the case, he answered, “I know she won’t Arya on purpose,” it was the accident that worried Jon. He’d seen Robb hurt Bran by mistake—he’d hurt Bran by mistake, for that matter.<br>
<br>
<br>
His gaze left Arya as the dark-haired woman mentioned what his brother had to say, and he gave a sheepish smile, “I am. Westerosi style, of course,” the noble knight’s style, heavy-handed and strength-based. It was quite a bit different from the one being shown to them. Even so, he knew enough to see how the Volantis style could be advantageous. “All of us boys here are trained like knights.”<br>
<br>
<br>
They were going to defend Winterfell from all dangers. Jon would take that skill to the Wall and defend the realms of men. “I’ve beaten Robb a time or two,” more. Robb was better at strategy than he was at swordplay. At times it gave him an edge, if he could think quick enough on his feet. Jon was more instinctual in combat.<br>
<br>
<br>
In a way that, clearly, Alysanne was not. He heard Arya cry out and his head whipped right back to the scene before him.<br>
<br>
<br>
While Jon had let himself be distracted, Arya had retrieved her sword. “All right, this time I want to see how well you can dodge and block. Okay?”<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya had nodded, and Leora took her stance again, before moving forward. The first slash wasn’t ever meant to connect, but Arya didn’t realize it. The blade moved too quickly, and she hadn’t measured the distance. She stepped to avoid, and nearly stepped right into Leora’s next strike. She managed to lift her wooden sword to block, but that had its consequences.<br>
<br>
<br>
Despite the fact Leora would never win a strength competition, she was still a woman against a girl. The connection of the two blades was painful for Arya as the vibrations and force of the blow shook her hand. She held on to her blade this time, though.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora pressed the advantage and swung down, hard. Arya managed to jump back, avoiding the damage, but in the jump she lifted her arms.<br>
<br>
<br>
Not that it mattered much. Leora made a strike that Arya would block, and as soon as the connection was made, she kept the pressure there and took a step closer, locking the blades.<br>
<br>
<br>
Then, the pressure was gone. Arya bent forward, and then fell onto her butt with the outcry that Jon heard. Leora had ducked quickly and swiped at Arya’s legs with her own foot, taking the ground out from under her. “Another thing to remember,” Leora said teasingly as Arya glared fiercely at her, “The sword isn’t your only weapon.”<br>
<br>
<br>
“That’s cheating!” Arya cried out.<br>
<br>
<br>
“No,” Jon interrupted on Leora’s behalf. “Robb and I have learned to use our legs to trip up opponents,” it wasn’t the most honorable of routes, but it did require quite a bit of skill.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora offered a hand to Arya as she heard the sound of boots crunching snow. Arya took it, but seemed to hear the sound as well. She immediately hid her sword behind her back, in case the one approaching might be mad with her for this.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">“I know she won’t Arya on purpose,” Sorelle heard Jon say as he stood close at her side, to which Sorelle didn't seem to mind. She rather enjoyed the warmth it offered standing close to the tall young man. He then answered to her comment about what Robb had to say about Jon's fighting, “I am. Westerosi style, of course,” He said sure of himself, "All of us boys here are trained like knights." Sorelle nodded observing the play fight before her.<br>
<br>
<br>
"As how it should be." She replied her jaw clenched from the cold air sweeping cross her pale moonlit face. "It seems your father loves you all very much." She said letting her eyes fall to the ground. She knew what was being asked of him and suddenly felt guilty for some reason as if it were her fault their father were being taken away.<br>
<br>
<br>
“All right, this time I want to see how well you can dodge and block. Okay?” Sorelle jerked her head back up curiously at Alysanne and Arya seeing the girl had retrieved her sword. She crossed her arms over her chest bracing herself for some excitement. Like her father a good fight {even a play fight} amused her to no end.<br>
<br>
<br>
The two of them went at it for a long while, both moving back and forth Alysanne of course counteracting every move with ease.<br>
<br>
<br>
Finally it subsided with Arya's shrill voice, “That’s cheating!” She cried as Alysanne had tripped the girl up. It was then she heard Jon's voice speak up from beside of her, “No, Robb and I have learned to use our legs to trip up opponents,”<br>
<br>
<br>
"It doesn't seem very easy..." Commented Sorelle injecting her own thoughts.<br>
<br>
<br>
Alysanne reached down and helped the girl up when Sorelle's muscles in her back became extremely tense, she was one of the first to turn around as a figure appeared in the shadows, "Well, Well, well..." Started a familiar voice that both Sorelle and Alysanne could recognize.<br>
<br>
<br>
"If it isn't my niece and her warrior of a handmaiden." He said briskly smirking, his helmet head beneath his arm. He then dropped it in the snow, fixing his gloves.<br>
<br>
<br>
He eyed Jon as if he were disgusted then looked upon Sorelle, "Forgive me, Princess, but did you not come to fetch Lady Alysanne to go to bed..."<br>
<br>
<br>
Sorelle nodded slowly, "I did." She said in a sure voice.<br>
<br>
<br>
"Then you lied." He commented back. "I'll be sure to tell your mother about this."<br>
<br>
<br>
He then eyed Arya and Alysanne, "Poor girl, being instructed by a woman...perhaps I should show her how it's done." He said rested his hand on the heel of his blade.<br>
<br>
<br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The tension in the air that came on the heels of Jaime’s arrival was palpable even to Jon Snow. There was something that changed in the stance of Alysanne, and the way her own hand moved instinctively towards her real blade. The wooden sword was taken by her off-hand. “She’s a good fighter!” Arya immediately said, defending the lady. “She could best you, I bet!”<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon saw how Alysanne clenched her jaw, clearly wanting Arya to be quiet with her boasts. “It’s not necessary,” Jon sought to defuse.<br>
<br>
<br>
However, Leora said, “Nor was this,” and the wooden blade struck the ground. “If you want to dance, Ser, I’ll dance. But I’m leading.” Jaime had likely encountered her style before, as she’d encountered his style. That thought thrilled her, as did the thought of going toe-to-toe with Jaime Lannister.<br>
<br>
<br>
Beating him would be an ego boost. Losing to him would offer insight into how much further she had to go.<br>
<br>
<br>
Arya was quick to clear the field as the blade was drawn. She hadn’t gotten to truly examine it, but she saw it was as dark grey as Valyrian steel, with red running through it. A broad smile was on her lips, as she thought it was Valyrian steel. It made her happier to think of the woman with such a blade. <i>Proud Spire</i> seemed a fitting name for it.<br>
<br>
<br>
Leora knew it wasn’t Valyrian steel, but it was modeled after a particular blade. Red Rain. It had once been the property of House Reyne, and she’d seen it in the hands of the Ironborn family Drumm, and would have taken it as a trophy if she’d been allowed. Alas, the Ironborn gave in too early for her to lay claim to it, their rebellion short-lived.<br>
<br>
<br>
“To first blood, Ser, or…?” How interesting did Jaime want to make it? Would he gamble on it, too?<br>
<br>
<br>
Jon glanced to Sorelle, and whispered, “Should we stop this?” For the vibe in the air felt wrong, though Jon couldn’t place why.</div>
				
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