Althea had been excited to travel to King's Landing with her father and sisters. Though she would miss her mother and brothers, the thought of seeing the southern lands and meeting new people made her heart race with excitement.
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Althea felt at peace with a needle and thread in her hands. She found the repetitive motion of sewing to be calming, creating something beautiful from plain thread and cloth. Currently Althea sat between her younger sisters in a room filled with other young girls, a pale pink dress laid across her lap as Althea embroidered butterflies along the bodice. Wings of blue, green, and purple all took form in different stages of flight.
Sansa kept peering over at her older sister's creation, glancing from her work to Althea's. In Sansa's mind Althea was the perfect lady, delicate, kind and loving, she didn't doubt for a moment that some dashing knight would sweep her sister off her feet and they would live happily ever after.
"What do you think, Sansa?" Althea asked, tilting her embroidery hoop so the girl could see better. "Is it up to your standards?"
"It's lovely, Thea. Lords and knights are sure to ask father for your hand when you wear it."
"But it is not for me, Sansan," Althea chuckled, smiling at her sister. "It's for your fourteenth name day. And since you will finally be considered a woman, I thought it only right that your dress represented such a change."
Sansa gasped at her sister's words, a slight blush coating her cheeks. "Thank you, Thea. This is the best gift I could ever hope to receive."
If one didn't know better they might have thought the two oldest Stark girls were twins, from their matching flaming locks to their button noses. Though there were differences if one looked close enough. Sansa's hair was slightly brighter than her sister's, and where she had pale blue eyes, Althea's eyes were a light amber.
"Fine work as always," Septa Mordane praised the girls, kneeling in front of them. "Well done, my dears."
"Thank you." Sansa smiled, her cheeks burning red.
"Sansa's work is quite impressive, is it not, Septa?"
"Yes it is," The older woman agreed, pointing to the needlework at the edge of Sansa'a hoop. "I love the detail that you've managed to get in these corners. Quite beautiful."
Althea turned her attention to her youngest sister, seeing Arya glaring at Sansa as she pulled harshly on her thread. The eldest stark daughter leaned closer to the young girl of eleven, a smile spread across her lips.
"I think some fresh air might do me some good," Althea whispered, placing the dress she had been working on down on the bench beside her. "Would you like to come with?"
At Arya's small nod, Althea turned back to the Septa still admiring Sansa's work. "Pardon me, Septa Mordane, but I fear my hands have grown weary. I believe some fresh air might do me some good, might Arya escort me? We will not go far, only just outside the door."
Septa Mordane turned to look at her eldest and youngest charges, glancing between the two girls. Her face tight as she peered at Arya's progress, before sighing. "That shall be fine, but do not stay out too long, there is still work to be done."
