Among Lions and Wolves • |Book 1|

.chapter one.

"Little Fox,"

"Your Grace," she responded warmly, a smile curving her lips as she sank into a deep curtsy.

Cersei Lannister approached the young girl just as she rose, her slender fingers collecting a hand full of raven black curls and carefully letting it slip through her fingers.

"Another stroll?" Emerald green eyes bore into her's as she nodded her head. "Was it another night terror?"

"No," she replied softly, "they have since stopped with the help from the maester, your grace."

"Good," she dropped her hand and beckoned for her to accompany as she walked on. "I have news, Little Fox."

"What news?" She folded her hands behind her back and kept a step behind the golden haired queen. "Is it good or bad?"

"Is there ever such a thing as good news?" Cersei asked, stopping and turning to face her young ward.

"I'd like to think there is," she replied, her cheeks flushed. "Like when you were crowned Queen and when the princes and princess were born, that was all good news, was it not?"

Flattered but doing her best not to show it, Cersei turned back to resume their walk. "This news, Rhaella, may not be good news."

"Is it about me?" She suddenly asked, sensing that whatever the news was it did not please her queen. "Has your father found me a suitable husband?"

Her lips pressed into a firm line, green eyes focused on the approaching sea just beyond the stone wall in the garden. She did not speak, her silence as good of an answer for Rhaella than any.

"And this does not please you?"

It does not, she wanted to reply but she chose not to and when she was certain that her voice would not give her away, she asked Rhaella a question. "What are your thoughts on the North?"

"The North?" She brought her hands around toward the front and peered down at them, there had been a loose piece of skin on her index finger where she had cut it on a page in an old book she had been reading. Rhaella could scarcely recall her time in the North, she had been only seven when she was swept away in a wheelhouse to Casterly Rock where she was to become the ward of Tywin Lannister. 

She pushed herself to remember the time before that, before her accident. She remembered it to be cold, but only a little. Summers had been longer than the winters and even so, she mostly kept inside the keep with her father. She could remember her sisters; Sofera, the eldest who looked most like her but abhorred her; Rayne with her silver hair and lavender eyes, she was the sweetest to Rhaella; Jayne had been a mere shadow of Sofera; There were the twins, Mystic and Fantasia who loved Rhaella just as Rayne and although they did not look like her with their white hair and indigo eyes, they had almost acted like her, almost. Mystic was wild and brave while Fantasia was often quiet and gentle. Then there was little Lucianne, the coward of them all. Luci always kept to herself, never bothering to leave the Godswoods until after the sun had gone and the stars came out. It was then when she'd retire to their chamber and sit on her bed staring at the window until the candles had all been snuffed out.

"I think the north to be cold," she replied after some time,  "And the people just as cold. I never thought to go back, am I to marry a man in the north?"

"No," Cersei turned to her, her expression grim, "You're to marry the man of the north, or so he is to be when his father dies."

Her lips parted slightly, "Robb Stark? I'm to marry him?"

She knew little of Robb Stark, just that he was the son of the King's best friend. But even so, to marry the heir of Winterfell meant she would have to trade in the warmth of the south for the cold of the north. She would have to forget her life in King's Landing and all about her friends and new family and be sent away into a strange place where summer never reached.

Cersei surprised Rhaella by pulling her into her arms and holding her against her chest in a motherly embrace. Without a mother since her birth, Cersei had been the only mother Rhaella knew and it was in moments like these when Cersei knew just how to make everything feel alright.

"I promise you, my sweet Fox," she said into Rhaella's ear, "You will not leave my side. Don't you fear."

***

That night Rhaella sat on the edge of her bed, watching as her handmaidens packed her things into large trunks. Along with the news of her betrothal followed that of their journey North at first light. Cersei had assured she would not leave her behind, she would never leave her children behind and Rhaella had been very much like one of her own.

Sent to Cersei at the age of seven, she had grown up as a proper lady should be until she was ten. Things changed for Rhaella on her tenth name day. She no longer was treated as Lady Tydore but as a Princess. Cersei had grown fond of her young ward and despite her pale eyes and raven black hair, she loved her like a daughter and chose to treat her as one from that day forth.

"Which gown, my lady?"

Rhaella lifted her head, her ice blue eyes landing on the dark haired girl with golden tan skin. In her hands, the handmaiden held two gowns; one sheer and of a pale gold while the other was thick velvet and ruby red.

"The red one," she replied. "We are going north, I need to be warm."

"Yes, your grace," the girl bowed her head.

Jaw clenched, Rhaella rose from her bed, crossed her chambers and walked through the doors leading to her balcony.

The moon was visible, a sliver of it anyway. Still, what little of the moon there was, it was still powerful enough to illuminate the dark sky. Stars speckled the dark canvas, many large and shining just as brightly as the moon.

She inhaled a deep breath of fresh salty air, canceling out the servants packing, hushed voices and listened to the faint crashing of waves while she closed her eyes.

This was her home. She would miss this. Winterfell would never have what King's Landing had. There would be no salty sea air or the crashing of waves. The summer nights would not be warm but instead cold. Most of all, there would be no Cersei, the woman whom she had been attached to since the moment she arrived.

_______________________

In truth, Cersei was one of my favorites until she had beef with Margaery.

Also, Rhaella is called Fox because of the Tydore sigil.
Meant to do a bit on House Tydore but just know that it's a new house if you catch my drift, wink wink.