wolfkissed| petyr baelish (littlefinger)

Nine

         The King and the Gold Cloaks were expected to arrive at Winterfell any day now. The kitchens and storage spaces were filled to the brim with breads and vegetables.

The help were stressed beyond repair. Many hadn't washed for weeks from preparation. The animals months ago had breed like rabbits to have enough meat for the entire army that would accompany the King. Every living being in Winterfell was exhausted.

Catelyn had been trying to get Arya to take a bath for three days now. The girl would run off into the Godswood and hide in trees till night came. Then it would take too long and too much effort to get a warm bath going.

Jale was aiding a huntsman unload the some turkeys he had brought. These were to feed the royal family during the welcoming feast.

"Jale! Please, I beg you, drag Arya out of those trees before I set them ablaze!" Catelyn ordered as she passed by.

Jale nodded to the hunter, climbing her horse and riding into the Godswood.

Arya was not far in, she was fairly far from the Weirwood still when Jale caught her in the trees.

"Arya, father will whip you till you bleed if you do not come down here this instant and bathe. You will make him look badly showing up to greet the king greasy and smelling. After they leave you are more that welcome to continue to live life as a rat. In fact i'll help you by tying you to the back of my horse and dragging you through the pig pens, now come!" Jale sighed.

Arya complied with her sister. Jale took the notion to help Arya herself instead of their mother or the handmaidens.

Jale grimaced at the smell as Arya undressed and quickly jumped into the tub. The wind pushing off her body was rancid.

Arya smiled as Jale massaged the cleansing oils into her hair. Jale had always possessed a calming touch with her hands.

"I heard the servants talking earlier, they said the Prince is going to propose to you. Is it true? Are you going to be Queen?" Arya asked with a fear in her voice. She didn't want her sister to leave.

Jale scuffed at the mention of the Prince and the royal proposal.

"Yes, it's quite likely. But mother and father have already discussed it and they will decline but in my stead propose Sansa."

Arya smiled and laughed.

"Finally, I don't have to listen to that little priss anymore. She can go down there and eat all the lemon cakes she wants and have silk gowns. Then it will be just you me and the boys, as it should be."

Arya's older sister frowned.

"Arya, though you and Sansa quarrel, she is still your sister. She at times annoys me as well, but she is as much a Stark as you and I. She's still young, she hasn't the experience to rid herself of her shallowness yet. One day that will change I promise you. And then she will no longer judge you for your ability to protect yourself. In a world like ours there is no place for damsels in distress, she will certainly discover that."

In Arya's heart, Jale had brought the motherly love to her. Arya loved her mother, be she did not understand her, and Jale always had.

Jale knew how to communicate with Arya, teach her lessons, not yell and threaten her will stories of horrible things to girls who ran off.

Arya had always thought Jale was more like their father than Robb was. Some called Robb Neds twin, in both face and morale. But the children of Winterfell thought differently.

Jale knew very well many of her siblings relied on her and idolized her, Rickon, Bran, and Arya. She brought to them a guidance they could not receive from anyone else. To them, she was the wisest woman they knew, but Jale was well aware her time in this world was not enough to know all its secrets.

Her fear, was her lack of knowledge beyond the North. The south was the territory of thorned roses, cunning lions, and proud stags, who all fought over a chair made of fire and blood.

If her father was to take the Kings offer, she would be sent away to Kingslanding for marriage. A wolf in the lions den. Though a stag sits on the throne, the lions sit in the shadows and wait for their prey to show its weakness.

The Lannisters were no family to trust, they break their oaths as fast as the riptides at Casterly Rock.