CHAPTER FIVE
word count: 1531

               Two weeks passed laced with tragedy. Mornings grew darker despite the pleasant grey clouds, as if the sky had heard the misfortune that had gripped the castle of Winterfell by its throat. Mere hours after Taryn and Robb's riding lesson, young Brandon Stark had fallen from Winterfell's old broken tower. He had not been left alone, and no one knew if he would ever wake again. The mournful howl of Bran's direwolf had echoed around the castle ever since.

Then came the day Taryn had dreaded since news came that the royal family would be travelling north. Taryn had been forced to bid farewells to her family before when she took her first trip to Winterfell, but this time felt different. Finality hung in the air like a funeral shroud. Taryn felt confident that Robb would allow her to visit her family whenever she desired to, but Winterfell was to be her home now. Her life would never be bound to the Red Keep again — instead, she would be shackled to the ice of the North. (The price of duty.)

The morning was crisp and Taryn made her goodbyes to her family beneath layers of wolfish furs. Around the courtyard, carriages were being loaded and horses mounted in preparation for the royal family and their entourage to depart from Winterfell.

"Will we see you again?" Tears shone in Myrcella's emerald eyes.

"Of course you will," Taryn promised. She pulled her sister into a tight embrace.

When his turn came, Tommen hid his face against his eldest sister, his arms like iron as he clung to Taryn's middle. "Don't go, Taryn! Let me stay with you, please."

Taryn sank to her littlest brother's height, wiping tears from his wet cheeks. "This is not goodbye forever." She pressed a smile onto her face. Her heart trembled the longer she looked at her siblings. Taryn had to stay strong, for her siblings, her mother, and herself — if Cersei detected any shred of reluctance in her daughter, she would take Taryn straight back home. (Taryn could not yet decide if that was a bad thing or not.) "I'll visit often, and you'll come back here for our wedding."

Tommen shook his head. "It won't be the same. I don't want things to change."

"Change is inevitable, but that does not have to be a bad thing," Taryn explained. "And I'll write to you all the time, but you must promise to write back to me. And keep an eye on the old black cat for me, would you?"

The little Prince sniffled and nodded, he drew back from his sister and let go. "I promise." Then he gave a little giggle. "That old cat doesn't like me or Ser Pounce, but I'll try!"

Taryn gave him and Myrcella another hug. Then Taryn turned to her mother. Truly faced with the realisation that she did not know when she would see her mother again, Taryn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her breaths became shaky.

When Cersei hugged her eldest child, Taryn was unsure if her mother would ever let her go. Cersei was Taryn's safe place, the sole constant to her life. (What was a daughter without her mother?)

"I love you so much," Cersei whispered against Taryn's golden hair. "Be safe. I'm so proud of you." The Queen released her daughter with immeasurable reluctance, taking tight hold of Taryn's hands. "I will see you soon. Deliver the north to us, my lionheart."

***

The day weighed heaviest on Robb's shoulders as he climbed the stairs to his twin sister's room. After bidding farewell to Jon (who Robb might never see again... — he tried not to think about that), Robb wished he could turn back time to a month ago: when Bran was awake, before their father could be offered the role of Hand of the King, before things changed. He wanted things to stay the way they were supposed to. Robb wasn't ready to be Lord of Winterfell.

Alys' door was ajar as he approached. Robb could hear his twin still packing, and the soft pads of Alys' direwolf wandering around the room. He gave a gentle knock on the door, and the little wolf nudged the door open. Alys' direwolf was the smallest of the pack, and a pale grey that looked almost as white as Jon's Ghost in some light. Alys had called her wolf Ray — or Rhae (Robb wasn't sure if or why the spelling mattered).

"You pack worse than Arya," Robb commented with a relaxed laugh as he stepped into his sister's messy room.

Alys rolled her eyes and threw a dress at her twin brother's face. Robb shook his head and clicked his tongue when he caught the flying dress and set about folding it. "That was a bad throw."

"I can throw my boots at you next time, if you like?" Alys offered with a grin. She smiled approvingly at Robb's folding when he handed over the dress and she stuffed it into one of her trunks.

"I thought you were supposed to finish packing yesterday?"

Alys went quiet. "If I finish packing, I have to leave." She turned to her brother. "Gods, Robb, I don't want to go."

Robb shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He did not want her to go either — he could not imagine the castle without his father, Jon, Sansa and Arya, but without Alys a piece of him would be missing. He wasn't even sure if he would be allowed to visit King's Landing if he was to take his father's role as Lord of Winterfell: his mother was trapped in her grief over Bran, Rickon was too little. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

He looked around the emptiness of Alys' room, her life and light packed away, and thought about how many nights he'd spent creeping into Alys' bed for whispered conversations in the middle of the night. Robb and Alys had been together for every day of their life — Winterfell without one of them there was no home, and a life apart was not something Robb ever wanted. If it wouldn't have made him feel so small, Robb would have turned to his father and begged them all to stay. ("It is my duty," Robb knew his father would say. Robb was his mother's son, he realised truly, when he knew that family should be placed above duty and honour.)

"It isn't fair." Robb's voice was small. "I don't want you to go."

Robb moved first, Alys bridged the rest of the gap between them, and they tackled each other into a tight hug. An unrelenting embrace that neither wished to break, lest they accept the fate that was pulling them a world apart.

It was Alys who broke apart first, after what felt like an age, leaving Robb to feel cold and empty. "Write to me at least once a month."

Robb forced a smile. "I'll write weekly if I can spare the time. I promise."

He helped Alys pack the rest of her belongings. They traded memories and chuckled as they traced back the life they had shared together. When all of Alys' possessions were safe in trunks and bags, Robb helped carry everything to the courtyard to be loaded into the carriages.

The air had an icy bite and snow was falling. Under his furs, Robb was warm enough. He watched Alys' mournful stare at the sky. He saw the snowflakes settle in her onyx curls. Starks don't belong in the South, he thought. We belong here.

Across the courtyard, Robb found Taryn: her hair wet with melted snow as she made her farewells to her uncles and her father and two of her ladies-in-waiting (only half of Taryn's ladies had been permitted to stay, Robb was not sure why — perhaps the Lannister and Baratheon girls had betrothals waiting for them? Or another girl to serve? It wasn't his business, and Taryn still had friends at Winterfell. She was not alone, and Robb was glad for it.)

Robb looked back at his twin sister, who was flashing him a cheeky grin. "What?"

"You like her," Alys said, looking in Taryn's direction. Robb flushed scarlet.

He dared to look at the Princess again, who was now embracing her father in goodbye. "I'm supposed to marry her, it would be beneficial if I did like Taryn."

Alys rolled her eyes. "You know that is not what I meant. I'm glad for you, Robb. I want you to be happy."

I'd be happier if I did not have to lose you to gain her, Robb thought. "I miss you."

They hugged again. "I miss you too. I love you."

Out in the cold, Robb was even less eager to let his sister go. "I love you. Be safe."

The twins smiled. "You too," Alys told her brother. "I'll see you soon."

Robb watched her go with a mournful gaze. He found his eyes moving, as if on instinct, to find the Princess — who was already looking for him. When blue eyes met brown in the snow, Robb could not help the faint smile that reignited on his face.

A/N:

another short one i'm afraid gang. hopefully they'll get longer (if not i'll keep aiming for double updates lol). thank you so much for the love so far!! 🤍