Chapter 2:In The Sight Of God's And Men

Chapter 2: In the Sight of God's and Men

It was a funny thing, really, knowing that come the next morning one’s role in the world would be entirely changed. She had left King’s Landing and come to Winterfell knowing this day would come, but it had always felt so distant, so beyond her. No matter how many years passed, it had always felt as if this day was years away, and now that the day was here it still felt as though it was years away.

She sat up in her bed, wiping the sleep out of her eyes and stretching. A flash of blue caught her eye and she turned to see the winter roses Robb had given her the night before, after he walked her to her rooms. “I won’t be able to give them to you on the morrow, if Sansa has her way” he had said. He had given her a sweet kiss before heading towards his own rooms, leaving her blushing and her stomach full of butterflies. 

He’s a fool, she thought fondly. My fool.

Robb was always so sweet to her, going out of his way to gift her flowers or the honey cakes she was fond of. She laughed to think of how they had despised each other as children. They would argue for days and try to outdo each other on the training yard, where Robb would usually win. But overtime their rivalry turned friendly, and their friendship turned to a love she was ever thankful for. 

What would I have done if we continued to hate each other? Would the betrothal have been broken? She doubted it. Her grandfather had never been concerned for her happiness here, only caring that she did her duty and played her role for the family. 

There’s naught to worry over, however. For if Robb is a fool for her then she is certainly a fool for him. The time she spent embroidering with Sansa and Jeyne was often spent working on something or other for Robb. A new jerkin or a pretty handkerchief in Stark colours, or perhaps mending clothes which had torn in the training yard. Clothes she had likely torn with her own sword in a spar that had been a tad bit too competitive. 

She took her time, choosing to dress herself and enjoy her last morning as a maiden in peace. I’ll be married this evening, and my mornings will no longer be so alone. She knew the Lord and Lady Stark shared a bedchamber and she wondered if Robb would wish to do the same. She wouldn’t mind. Despite the heated walls of Winterfell she often found herself chilled at night, still unused to the cold. A problem she had solved by spending the night with Sansa or Arya, but that would be out of the question once she was married. 

She supposed she wouldn’t mind Robb’s company, either. 

continued on AO3

Folklore set - Claude Monet

♕ SANSA STARK in every episode of Game of Thrones

Chapter 21: Iron and Bronze

Pine needles prickled the bottom of her bare feet, and her toes turned to ice. She wiggled them, but they were stiff and slow. Alysanne took note of her surroundings. The north? How did I get here? She shivered and made to draw her cloak tighter around her shoulders, but it slipped through her fingers and turned to sand. I am dreaming, I must be. She closed her eyes to try and wake herself, but she couldn’t. She opened them again. A dense fog had risen from the ground. She did not recognize these woods. They were certainly not the Wolfswood back home in Winterfell. The woods were dark, but not so dark she could not see. Dark, like Winterfell often was before snow or rain. A beast rumbled behind her and her hair stood on end. Go , her mind told her. She walked into the fog.

The ground beneath her feet grew warm, but the pine needles and woods remained. The smell of smoke reached her nose. The fog was no fog at all. Smoke. Smoke shrouded the woods, but there was no fire, nor was there any glow. She did not cough or struggle to breathe and her eyes did not sting like they did when the smoke from the cook fire blew towards her. She continued forward. The silhouette of a man formed ahead, walking forward with her. “Hello?” she called. The man did not turn or stop. She walked faster and drew closer to him. She could see the shine of golden armor, and soon could make out golden hair not unlike her own. “Father?” she asked tentatively. The man stopped and faced her. It was indeed her father, as she had left him in King’s Landing when she was a girl. Age had not touched this version of him. Hope bloomed in her chest. He’ll keep me safe here. She reached for him and he smiled, but before she could touch her hand to his, he turned to ash and blew into the wind. “No,” she screamed. The beast rumbled once more behind her and the smoke grew thicker, so she ran.

She slowed once more, once the smoke thinned. Another figure stood ahead. This one was a woman, and like her father, she did not respond to her calls. Alysanne made her feet move faster and the ground grew hotter beneath her. Unlike her father had, the woman remained out of her reach. All Alysanne could make out was a lavender dress, but even that was a smear through the smoke.

CONTINUE ON AO3

“Lannisport was the end of our voyage,” Prince Oberyn went on, as Ser Arron Qorgyle helped him into a padded leather tunic and began lacing it up the back. “Were you aware that our mothers knew each other of old?”

“They had been at court together as girls, I seem to recall. Companions to Princess Rhaella?”    

folklore/evermore songs as vintage posters