๐ฏ๐ข ๐ธ๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐จ๐จ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ซ๐ฎ๐ง๐ค๐๐ง ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฌ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐
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____ The banners of House Baratheon, a crowned stag, and House Lannister, a golden lion, stood out amongst the vast and dull green fields of the Northern Kingdom.
The Royal Family, along with their Royal Guard, marched towards the old castle known as Winterfell, the King of the Seven Kingdoms leading them.
The inhabitants of Winterfell, Highborn and Lowborn, anxiously awaited the arrival of the Royal guests as the trotting of hooves began to grow louder.
Children bounced with pure excitement, too young and innocent to understand that Northerners didn't much trust any outsiders from the South.
Walking beside his mother and Maester Luwin, Rikson Stark grinned as he watched a little girl run past him, with the most adorable giggle leaving her lips.
The children of the castle had bubbled with exhilaration ever since the news of the Royal Family's arrival had been announced by Lord & Lady Stark.
Alysanne trotted alongside her Stark master, occasionally sniffing at the air around her.
The black direwolf with red eyes, along with her siblings, had noticeably grown in the month that had passed since the Starks had found the litter.
The black pup enthusiastically barked when her red eyes laid sights on her brother, Summer.
"Gods, they grow fast."
Catelyn spoke as she glanced at the pups that began to fumble around with the other, though, her attention quickly shifted to the little boy climbing down the gray walls of Winterfell.
"Brandon!"
Rikson snickered when he noticed his younger brother, Bran, was the little boy climbing down Winterfell's walls.
"I saw the King. He's got hundreds of people."
"How many times have I told you, no climbing?"
"But, he's coming right now. Down our road." Bran responded as his feet touched the solid ground.
Catelyn walked towards her son with a stern look upon her aged features. Rikson remained where he was, with Maester Luwin standing beside him.
Catelyn placed her hands on her knees as she leaned down to be eye-level with Bran,
"I want you to promise me, no more climbing."
Bran glanced towards his feet with the look of a child who was being scolded, which he was, upon his face before responding to his mother, "I promise."
Catelyn stood up straight with a knowing look upon her features, "Do you know what?"
"What?"
"You always look at your feet before you lie."
Bran chuckled, knowing his mother was right. Catelyn smiled at her son, she could never stay mad at her precious children for long, "Run and find your father. Tell him the King is close."
Bran released an adorable giggle as he ran towards Rikson, grabbing his hand, before both jogged off to find their father, their direwolf pups following.
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Once Lord Stark had been informed of the Royal Family's mere hours away arrival, the Stark children were sent to their rooms. Warm baths had been drawn for the six children, and a set of their fanciest and cleanest clothes were placed upon their beds.
Alysanne was sprawled out upon Rikson's bed, with animal-fur blankets atop it, as the boy of sixteen himself laid beneath the water of the bath.
The sound of splashing water overtook the silence of Rikson's room as the boy's upper-body surfaced from the bath. Water dripped from his wavy locks and onto his glistening skin as he wiped away the water on his face with his calloused hands.
Alysanne's tail began to enthusiastically wag as her maroon eyes watched her Stark master rise from the bath and approach the bed, proceeding to pick up the dark-brown trousers atop his bed.
Putting on the trousers, Rikson began to dress himself in the outfit his mother had made for him herself. He grinned as he ran his fingers over the designs on the shirt his mother had sewed specifically for him.
A black wolf running with it's pack, symbolizing her children as a pack of direwolves, that looked similar to the pups the children had raised and trained.
The black direwolf's fluffy tail continued to wag in excitement as she watched Rikson button up his vest before placing his black-furred cloak upon his broad shoulders.
The wolf stood from her position, stretching herself as a yawn escaped her snout, resulting in a chuckle from Rikson. She trotted over to the Valyrian-Steel sword atop the bed, beginning to nudge it towards Rikson, knowing he never left the castle without it.
"Thank you, my good wolf, but I shouldn't be needing Wrath today. Mother would have a fit if she saw me wearing that around the King of Westeros."
Alysanne simply titled her head to the side in response, followed with a muffled bark. Rikson chuckled as he stroked the wolf's soft fur.
Both of their gazes shifted to the door when a light knock sounded throughout the room.
"Come in."
Sansa walked into his bedroom wearing a sea-blue dress with a matching white-furred cloak upon her shoulders, the light blues accenting her Tully hair beautifully.
"My Lady Sansa, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
She rolled her eyes at her dork-of-a-brother as she approached the direwolf atop the bed, stroking the wolf's fur with her smooth hands.
"Our Royal guests are arriving shortly. Mother and father are awaiting us in the courtyard where we will receive them, including the handsome Prince Joffery."
Rikson playfully rolled his eyes as his sister gushed over the Prince. Though, he was a little worried for Sansa, he didn't want the Prince to hurt her and crush her feelings, not that the Midnight Wolf would allow such things to happen to his sister anyway.
Sansa giggled as she faced her brother, taking his rough hands into her soft ones, "We must'nt keep them waiting. Come on, Riky!"
Rikson laughed as Sansa rushed him out of the room and practically pulled him towards the courtyard where their parents and siblings waited.
"There you two are, have you seen Arya?" Catelyn asked, followed by a shrug from both of her taller children. She sighed, before placing Rikson beside Robb with Sansa standing beside him.
The courtyard was filled with the anxiously-excited people of Winterfell. The important Lowborns to House Stark stood behind the family themselves. The Stark children were lined, beside their parents, from eldest to youngest, though little Rickon stood beside him mother as he was too young to understand how
to use formal etiquette in front of the King.
As the hooves of the Royal horses grew stronger in sound, little Arya Stark appeared, wearing a metal helmet she had found, as she sprinted towards her siblings. Though, Eddard grabbed her arm, "What are you doing with that on?" He took the helmet off of her head, resulting in a groan of annoyance falling from the brunette's lips. "Go on."
Rikson, Robb, and Jon all snickered in unison at the scene before them, as Arya roughly shoved Bran to the side so she may stand beside her older sister, though the two sisters hadn't ever gotten along well.
Everyone watched as the first of their Royal guests rode through the gates to the courtyard.
A golden haired Baratheon, Prince Joffery, was the first of the Royal Family to be seen. Rikson watched as the Prince smirked at Sansa, who was already eying him with a small smile on her young features.
His eyes glowed with protectiveness for his sister as he tried his hardest not glare at the Prince, knowing he'd suffer dearly if he did. He wasn't scared of what the Royal Family would do to him, more so what his mother would do if she were to notice.
A large carriage, colored red with gold markings and covered with Lannister banners, rode through the gates, signifying the Queen and her other two children had arrived in Winterfell.
Following the carriage were two golden knights with the King of Westeros himself behind them.
Rikson eyed the fat Baratheon that held a scowl upon his aged features, as if he couldn't wait to leave the Northern Kingdom when he'd only just arrived in Winterfell, his friend's home.
Everyone in the courtyard followed Lord Stark as they knelt on their knees for the King.
The King dismounted his black stallion, his scowl remaining on his features, as his walked towards Lord Stark. Standing in front of his old friend, he gestured for everyone to stand, the people doing so.
"Your Grace." Lord Stark bowed in respect.
"You've got fat."
Lord Stark gestured towards the man with a look in his eyes as if to say "you're talking" quickly followed by the laughter of the two old friends who had overthrown House Targaryen many years ago.
They embraced one another before the King moved towards Lady Stark, "Cat!" She smiled as the man embraced her, as well, "Your Grace."
He ruffled Rickon's hair with his gloved hand before standing in front of Ned Stark, once more.
"Nine years, why haven't I seen you?
Where the hell have you been?"
"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace.
Winterfell is yours."
Rikson watched as Queen Cersei of House Lannister exited the carriage, she held the same expression her husband once held when he had arrived, though it seemed permanent on her aged features.
"Where's the Imp?"
"Will you shut up?"
Rikson held in a snicker as he heard Arya and Sansa's banter, those two will probably never get along, he, amusingly, thought to himself.
"Who have we here?"The King asked as he came to stand in front of the eldest of the Stark children. "You must be Robb." The two firmly shook hands, before the King moved to stand in front of Rikson.
"The Controller of Beasts, Rikson Stark." The Stark raised a brow in amusement with a half-smirk on his lips, resulting in a laugh from the King of Westeros as they firmly shook hands. The King moved towards Sansa, "My, you're a pretty one." Rikson noticed the small grin that appeared on his sister's face at the complement she received from the King.
"Your name is?" The King asked as he bent down to be eye-level with the younger Stark girl. "Arya." He nodded, moving to stand in front of Bran.
"Oh, show us your muscles." Little Bran smiled as he flexed his arm, resulting in a laugh from the King. "You'll be a soldier."
From beside the carriage, one of the golden armored knights of the Kingsguard removed his helmet, revealing his Lannister-gold locks of hair.
"That's Jamie Lannister, the Queen's twin brother." Arya whispered to Bran and Sansa.
"Would you please shut up?" Sansa whispered-yelled back.
The Queen approached Lord Stark, who took her hand and respectfully kissed it. "My Queen."
Lady Stark curtsied in respect, "My Queen."
The Queen grinned, though it seemed entirely forced, as the King's voice spoke up, "Take me to your crypt.
I want to pay my respects."
"We've been riding for a month, my love.
Surely the dead can wait."
"Ned." The King ignored his wife as he called his friend and they both began to walk towards the crypts of Winterfell, where Lyanna Stark was buried.
Awkward silence filled the courtyard as the King of Westeros and Lord Stark's footsteps faded.
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After the Royal Family's arrival, the King's men began to set up tents outside of Winterfell's walls for the servants and the guards that had rode from the South, while the Queen and her children were shown to their rooms inside the walls of Winterfell's castle.
The old castle seemed to bustle with even more excitement after the Royal guests had arrived, the people anxiously waiting to catch a glimpse of whoever they could find as they continued on with their daily activities throughout the day.
The servants were also quite joyous as they prepared for the feast that would be held later in the night for the Royal Family's arrival, per Lord Stark's orders.
Meanwhile, after gathering Alysanne and changing clothes, Rikson had ventured off into the Godswood
to be alone with the silence of the forest. He made his way to the broken watchtower and climbed the steps, with his direwolf at his side.
Leaning against the frame of the open-wall, he crossed his arms as he gazed towards the vast green plains of the North before him, with Alysanne sitting beside his booted feet, her tail occasionally wagging.
"What do you think of our Royal guests?"
Rikson asked Alysanne, although he knew she couldn't answer. Though, she titled her head and released a yip as if she were answering his question.
"I don't much like 'em, either."
Rikson shifted his gaze towards the squawking of a raven, finding the large bird to be perching on one of the spikes that circled the roof of the watchtower.
"The Controller of Beasts."
He mumbled the title he had received as a child to himself. Rikson was quite surprised when the King had spoken that title, wondering how he had found out about his old Northern ability. He suspected his father must have told him in a letter, though he couldn't guess when.
His azure gaze focused on the bird as his breathing slowed and his eyes, soon enough, turned into a pure-white, with a silvery tinge, color as did the raven's.
He spread his black wings and flew through the Godswood, the leaves gently brushing against his feathers, as if leaving a gentle kiss to them.
He left the castle behind him as he moved his direction towards the Wolfswood. The deer ran beneath his frame as he soared across the green forest.
Bending his body sideways, his wings grazed the cold water of a stream. The water split for his feathered wings as he continued to soar across the blue.
His wings vigorously flapped as he soared towards the sky, the trees turning into mere specks below his small frame. He spun as he broke through the clouds, the sun accenting his black feathers perfectly.
From within his belly and through his throat, he released a call that echoed across the sky.
The wind blew across his feathers, as the sun kissed his small figure. He didn't feel the need to flap his wings as he, effortlessly, glided above the clouds.
He released one last loud and echoing call before his vision faded to white with a silver glow.
Alysanne's worried whimpering was the first sound to resister in Rikson's mind as his eyes returned to their cerulean blue as the wolf pawed at his legs.
He grinned as he bent down to reassuringly stroke the wolf's black fur for her comfort, "I'm alright, my good wolf." Alysanne licked his cheek, as her tail wagged, assured that her Stark master was indeed alright.
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Inside of Rikson's chambers, beside the lit fireplace, Sansa sat in the chair accompanying the table in front of his bed, where Alysanne was sprawled on top of.
Rikson, himself, was standing behind his younger sister as he braided her auburn Tully hair, styling it
for feast that was only minutes away.
"Do you think Joffery will like me?
What if he thinks I'm ugly?"
"Then he is the stupidest boy who ever lived,
and will have to answer to the Midnight Wolf."
Sansa smirked as she held up the mirror she had brought with her, admiring the hairdo that Rikson had made with her long locks. She honestly didn't know how her brother could style her hair better than her handmaidens could, though he had told her to never mention his secret ability to their siblings, knowing he'd never live it down if his brothers found out.
Her thoughts then drifted to the Prince, once more, as a smile overtook her young and beautiful features.
"He's so handsome."
Rikson subtly, though playfully, rolled his eyes.
"When would we be married?
Soon? Or do we have to wait?"
"Hush, sweet sister.
Father hasn't even said yes."
Rikson chuckled, referring to the proposal the King had offered to Lord Stark. Become his Hand and join their Houses by marrying Sansa to Joffery.
He didn't much like either of the options.
"Why would he say no? He'd be the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Father would have to leave home.
He'd have to leave mom. And so would you."ย
Sansa didn't seem to understand what Rikson was trying to drill into her head as he continued to gently braid her hair. He knew Starks, or any Northerner
for that matter, never faired well in the South.
Rikson never wanted anything to happen to his family, not after he abandoned them only a year ago for the woman he loved and became a lone wolf.
Something he never wished to experience again.
"Mother left her home to come here.
And I'd be Queen someday."
Sansa turned around to face her brother with an expression of urgency on her features.
"Please help mother make father say yes!"
"Sansa-"
"Please, please! It's the only thing I ever wanted."
Rikson sighed, looking at his sister's pleading gaze. Though hesitant, he nodded his head. Sansa leapt from the wooden chair and embraced her brother as a million "thank you"s ran from her pink lips. He chuckled at her enthusiasm, although he couldn't help but worry for his family's fate if his father accepted the King's proposal and ventured South.
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Dim lighting from the torches filled the atmosphere as music flowed from the musicians' instruments and echoed throughout the large Dining Hall. Laughter fell from the lips of practically everyone inhabitanting the room as they drank, ate, sang, and danced.
The King was seated in the midst of the crowded tables of the Lowborns as Northern whores clung to him like he was a stag holding meat for a predator. Lady Stark and the Queen sat at the high table, looking down at the people and the King, who drank the most and laughed the loudest of everyone in the Hall. Lord Stark stood in one of the corners of the room, watching over his people and his Royal guests, as if an alpha wolf watching over his pack. The Stark children were seated at a table across from the Queen's children and the Royal Family's guards.
Rikson laughed at a joke Robb had just told him as they sat beside the other, having been making jokes about the Royal Family throughout the feast.
"Is that Uncle Benjen?" Rikson asked as he saw the man enter the feast. Robb looked towards the man, as well, recognizing him instantly. "I'm going to greet him, you coming?" Rikson shook his head.
Not long after Robb had left, Rikson began to feel a nipping at the bottom of his shirt. He furrowed his brows as he glanced underneath the table.
"Ghost?"
The white pup barked, pawing at his knee in a begging manor as he gave the boy his puppy eyes. Rikson chuckled as he stroked his soft fur, before grabbing the largest piece of meat from the plate in front of him and lowering it towards the wolf.
"Now don't go bragging to your siblings."
The pup's tail wagged as he gently took the large piece of meat before prancing off, resulting in a laugh from Rikson as Robb returned.
"Laughing to yourself, Riks?"
Rikson rolled his eyes as he chuckled along with Robb, explaining what had happened only moments before, resulting in more laughter spilling from their lips.
Though, Rikson's laughter slowly died down as he noticed the look on Prince Joffery's face as he stared at Sansa, who began to whisper to her friend, Jeyne Poole. The Midnight Wolf did not like the way the golden stag looked at his sister one bit.
"Don't let the Queen catch you glaring at her son."
Rikson shifted his gaze away from the Prince and towards Robb, "You're right, she'd chop my head off here and now." They laughed, though they knew full well the Queen quite possibly would kill him, or anyone, who looked at her children wrongly.
The brothers' laughter only increased as little Arya chucked a piece of her food directly at Sansa, the brown muck landing on her sister's cheek.
"Arya! It's not funny!
She always does this."
Sansa complained as Jeyne cleaned her face with a cloth. Meanwhile, Rikson and Robb continued to laugh so hard their stomachs started to ache.
Glancing at his mother, Catelyn gestured towards Arya. Swiftly calming himself of his laughter, Rikson stood from his seat and made his way to Arya.
"Time for bed, little wolf."
Rikson said as he lifted Arya from her seat, leading her out of the Dining Hall. They arrived at her room not long after, while the feast slowly began to die down.
Arya opened the door to her chambers, prepared to just go to bed before Rikson spoke up,
"Little wolf, what you did to Sansa was very wrong."
Arya looked down in disappointment as Rikson leaned down to be eye-level with her, "I know, I know..."
"But... it was very funny."
Arya lifted her head with a smile and a adorable giggle leaving her lips. "Now, off to bed, little wolf. You've been enough trouble for one night."
She giggled as she hugged her brother, bidding him a goodnight before closing the wooden door to her chambers and preparing herself for bed.
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The quiet of the secondborn Stark's chambers was slowing diminishing as Alysanne's ears twitched and one of her red eyes opened as Rikson began to whimper and moan in his sleep.
"Addy.. please, no... no..."
The direwolf began to worry as his whispering began to increase in volume. She stood from her position and began to whimper, pawing at Rikson's arm in hopes of waking her Stark master from his nightmare.
Alysanne barked as a last resort in waking Rikson, which seemed to work as his azure eyes opened while his sweaty skin glistened in the light of the fire as his chest heaved with his heavy breathing.
Silent tears began to escape his eyes as he leaned against the headboard of his bed, running a hand through his dampened wavy locks of hair.
The direwolf lowly whimpered as she approached her Stark master, gently nudging his hand away from his face with her soft snout before she began to lick away every tear that fell from Rikson's cerulean eyes.
Eventually, his salty tears stopped flowing.
He sadly chuckled as he stroked his hands through his wolf's soft fur, "Thank you, my good wolf." Alysanne yiped as she wagged her tail, loving whenever she was praised by Rikson.
The direwolf watched as Rikson laid himself down and tried to fall asleep for a second time that night.
Once his breathing evened out, Alysanne sat beside Rikson. Staring at her Stark master, with her tail wagging, to assure herself that Rikson wouldn't fall into another fit of nightmares.
Satisfied that the Stark would sleep peacefully throughout the night, Alysanne licked Rikson's cheek before curling into a ball beside his chest, falling asleep with her paw on his hand.
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