Among Lions and Wolves • |Book 1|

.chapter five.

Little sleep came to Rhaella that night. Even with the wolf pup, she found herself tossing and turning, removing layers of fur and then pulling them back again.

Finally, she rose from her bed and walked over toward the window, pushing it open to let the cold air seep into the uncomfortable room.

She could not shake the horrors from that night. So much could have gone wrong, terribly wrong. The wretched men could have succeeded in raping her, leaving her defiled and disgraced.

The longer she dwelled on the matter, she realized that the man had been no man of the Starks. He wore gold, not gray and white like the Stark colors. Yet he knew his way around, but any drunken man could wander into the stables. Most normally did. The stables were warm and provided a comfortable place to sleep no doubt.

But this man had not come looking for a quiet place to rest, no, he had come looking for her. She was sure of it. It was in the way his black beady eyes sought her out in the poorly lit stable. The way he approached her and knew just how to keep her from screaming. It was like he sensed she was vulnerable and incapable of defending herself.

Rhaella clung to the cloak the boy had draped around her. Although she wore a gown now, she still kept the cloak for warmth and reassurance. She felt safe within the thick layers of gray and white. She felt safe with the white direwolf pacing by her side, always on guard even while he slept.

She had almost pleaded with the boy to stay outside her door but she knew questions would arise. Cersei would return and she would demand to know why a boy stood outside her chambers. Rhaella would have difficulty explaining the presences of the wolf, much less that of a strange boy.

So she didn't say a word. She had thanked him, of course. He had been kind to her and cautious. He lent her his cloak and his wolf... suddenly Rhaella stepped back from the window to stare at the wolf.

Only Stark children had them, yet he looked nothing like the children, well except the little girl just a year older than Myrcella. Rhaella knew of no other older Stark boy. She knew of Theon Greyjoy, but he had been a ward to Lord Stark, and a boy from the house Greyjoy. Their sigil was not of a wolf, but some sea creature. Of course, there was the bastard but she had not recalled seeing him during their arrival and the more she thought about it, he did look very much like the Lord of Winterfell.

Rhaella turned back to the window, her palms resting on the frame while she peered out. She felt disappointed in the fact it had been the bastard that came to her aid, lent her his cloak and wolf, and saw that she was returned safely to her chamber. It should have been the man she was intended to marry, but then she would have been embarrassed.

Below in the courtyard, movement caught her attention making her forget all about her thoughts. She watched, her heart thumping wildly, as two figures merged together before slipping into the stables.

Her mind slipped back to the man that had tried to rape her. She had long forgotten his body laid in his own pool of blood in the stable. What if those strange figures saw and alerted their Lord? What if it was realized that one of the wolves had been the creature to rip out his throat?

She moved to slip back away from the window, her intentions of leaving her chambers to confront the figures clouding her better judgment. And then something else caught her eye. A third figure trotted along, leaving the stables. It stepped from the shadows into the beam of moonlight and Rhaella gasped.

She moved closer toward the window, her hands resting on the frame once again. Not too long after, the figures emerged, this time there was not two but four.

Three struggled to drag along the fourth. She recognized the fourth and she recognized that head of auburn hair that shone brilliantly in the moonlight.

The second could only be the bastard, he was missing his cloak. And the third, she knew it to be Theon Greyjoy.

Something soft brushed against Rhaella and then a soft thump followed. Ghost now stood up on his hind legs, watching with Rhaella as his brother, master, and the others carried his kill away and out of the castle.

The boys and the gray direwolf pup returned at the break of light. Rhaella watched from her window, her fingers scratching between Ghost's ears as he returned to watch with her.

She could see from her position that they were dirty and exhausted. Robb motioned for Theon to take his pup, leaving him and the bastard alone.

She'd have to stop referring to him as such, he had a name, she just couldn't remember it. But she knew what they called bastards in the North, they called them Snow.

And so she watched as Robb and Snow walked together, side by side, in silence until Snow looked up. Rhaella felt her breath catching in her throat as their eyes locked. He stopped in his trek, his face red from the cold and his glassy dark eyes filled with sadness.

Robb had stopped too, turning around to look at his half-brother, he noticed him looking up and followed his gaze. His jaw clenched, he could see white paws peeking over the ledge and noticed the cloak she had been wearing. 

His blue eyes flicked back up to her face, she was watching him now and then she stepped back out of his line of sight and closed the window.

Robb lowered his head, his mind suddenly racing. Slowly he turned to Jon. He had been watching him too, but unlike Rhaella, his face had not been hard to read.

"She didn't want anyone to know," he said as if it was the answer to Robb's unasked question.

Robb stared hard at Jon, studying the bastard for any sign of betrayal. Rhaella was a rare sight in Winterfell, he was aware she'd attracted the attention of many since her arrival but he had not thought his brother to be among them.

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Rhaella and Robb are cute but Rhaella and Jon are my favorite.