Carliene Stark

II Chapter 27

Carliene

I pulled the cloak around my frame as we strolled around the three trees. Doing my best not to stare too impolitely I studied the way he moved, and the brace around his leg. "Does it hurt?" I found myself asking bluntly. 

"Only if I walk on it" he tried to sound unbothered by it. "And when I don't it tingles and cramps" he stopped. gazing at the three trees and the pool beneath them. 

from where we stood we could make out each individual tree and the faces on them.
"It is not so bad truly" he began again shaking his head. "But sometimes there are more difficult days" 

I nodded as if I understood how he felt. "How old were you when it happened?"

He remained silent and I already feared that I had overstepped a boundary but then he spoke, his eyes still lost in those of the weirwood. "Nine"

A sadness spread in my chest. "That is so young" I realised.
He only shrugged. "My father thought he might make a knight of me, instead he got a cripple"

It was the age that Bran was when he was made a cripple. And it was the age that he was when I left him behind at Winterfell. 

And now he is so tall. 

"But please I need no pity from you, my Lady" Willas continued, mistaking my silence for a deep empathy that rendered me speechless. "I have received enough of that over the years"

And no doubt his fair share of half-hearted pity. Looking at the pool I thought back to the crying girl. "When we were small I used to play in the godswood at Winterfell" I began with a smile of distant memories. "We chased each other with sticks and tested who could jump across the springs without falling into them" I hoped that my reminiscence would inspire him to talk of his own childhood and maybe prove or disprove that what I had seen when touching the tree. 

A small smile graced his own face. "I played with my brother and the other squires and we would throw leaves and mud at our sister and her handmaiden to send the squealing and crying" he recalled. "And the next day they would always come back" 

That needn't prove or disprove anything, but I was grateful for him opening up a little. It gave me the groundwork to be able to ask something of him. something important. 

Our heads turned as the dog returned, dropping a chewed uo branch at our feet before taking a drink from the clear pool. Willas studied the animals behaviour as if it were the most curious thing.

"Does she have a name?" I pondered as she licked water from her flews and approached me, wagging her tail and ducking her head as I leaned down to pet her. 

"Thistle" he answered shaking his head. "And she really doesn't like strangers" 

I looked down to see her press her body against my legs as I rubbed her side and panting heavily. "Thistle" I repeated, running my fingers through the strawy fur. 

She was by no means a pretty dog and I sensed that she had her temper, but i found her to be quite pleasant for a dog. 

"I've never seen her accept anyone like this" 

I straightened, rubbing across her head before I decided it was enough. Thistle gave me a a demanding gaze, then she looked at her master shortly before busying herself with sniffing through the leaves.

"My Lord" I started slowly, rubbing my palms on my cloak to clean them of the dirt that had hung in the dog's fur. 

Willas lifted his gaze from the animal.