The King of Winters

Unexpected Meeting

Andrew Stark

The morning was as cold as every mornings here in Braavos. When Andrew opened his windows he could see that it was foggier that the last morning. The foggier the air was, the colder the air will be. 

Andrew never got a good sleep yesterday, but that was no big deal since he was used to troubled sleeps for the past eleven years. And all the cause for his troubled sleeps were the same and yesterday was no exception. He had the same dream again, when he was a little boy of five, playing happily in his mother's arms, until everything turned to dark, black and mess and gore. He saw his mother glowing in the starlight, with the same sweet smile of hers while tears rolled past her cheeks. He saw his father, with that kind smile he'd give at him always, his cold grey eyes growing soft as the fogs outside covering Braavos when he saw him or his mother. He saw his uncle, throwing him up in the air before catching him in his arms. He'd loved that part, until everything changed to. His mother's eyes leaking with tears of blood, his father burning in a raging fire that his lips only opened to scream, not to smile at him and his uncle Arthur throwing him up in the air but missing to catch him. 

Andrew sighed leaving to keep the thoughts of the dream buried deep into the deepest and darkest place of his heart. He had tried to forget about the dream for about numerous times thinking that if he'd managed to forget it he would not see it, but only to fail in that. No matter how hard he had tried to forget the dream, he couldn't forget it. No matter how hard he tried to get rid off it, he couldn't get rid of it. It's like the dream had stuck with him, like a part of him. The dream was as if it was a part of his body, a part of his own soul, so no matter how hard he tried he could never ever get rid of it and Andrew had learnt to live with it. 

He moved over to the water basin to wash up the sleepiness from his face after a bad sleep. Even the reflection of his face in the water brought up the old memories of his family. His face had changed a lot in the last eleven years. He had a beard now and his features had grown strong unlike the child he was in the dreams. Though he still had a resemblance of his father in his face. His mother used to say that he looked like his father and the household of Winterfell seemed to agree it too. They used to say that, he was more like his father and only had a little of his mother in him, which was undoubtedly his dark hair. Andrew could see that now, his hair had grown shades darker now. 

He'd always wondered what it would be like if he returned to Winterfell now. But the answer to that was pretty simple and he knew that. They would never believe him to be Andrew Stark, son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Ashara Stark. Andrew Stark would have been dead, buried in the minds of the people of Westeros, just like his parents had been. 

When he had finished bathing, he clad himself in his fresh, usual outfit of the dark pants and white tunic shirt with a brown jacket over it. When he pulled his boots up he moved to the water basin again to set his hair in the way he preferred. He never had a long hair like his father nor the short one like his uncle Arthur. He had medium length hair, which he kept short in the sides and the back and slicked back the wet hair up in the top. 

When Andrew finished dressing his hair, he took Frost before he left his room. Walking with a sword on the back was not a common sight here in Braavos. But even he himself was odd in Braavos, from the clothes to wore to his looks everything screamed of Westeros and that's why Syrio had made him as Andrew Snow, a westerosi bastard, as if to not gather a lot of attention to himself. 

Andrew walked down the steps to the inn, his boots thudding against the wooden steps. There were only a few number of people in the Foghouse that day. But given the time, it was too early for too much of crowd, the people would only rouse and get to their daily activities only after the sun had wiped away the fog for everyone to see clearly.