The Snows of Winterfell: The First Song - Vengeance of the She-Wolf

Line Two: Tybalt

Line Two: Tybalt

Tybalt strolled through the ruins of Winterfell in the night, a fur cloak draped about his shoulders. His Lannister signet ring glistened in the moonlight as he strolled through the gardens. The wind tried to beat at him, but he refused to let it in, and drew it closer about his body; he had no idea how these Northerners were so accustomed to the cold—the descendants of the First Men were quite hardy indeed. His cleaning the hair off of his face didn’t help reserve his warmth, either.  He had been keeping himself washed and fed, but that certainly didn't help the fact that Ellaria had been giving him a more then cold shoulder. Whenever he would sit down to dine, she would get up to leave even if she hadn't finished.

As he walked, he thought of how all the violence had broken a family—hers, his, and too many more to account for. For him it was a hard concept to think of; Tybalt barely remembered his mother, and his father had emotionally parted ways with all of them the very same day; his sister was little more than a well-dressed whore, his older brother was a cocky knight who, while friendly enough, made no effort to even seem honorable—and dear, dear Tyrion was all but ignored by his family. The only family he had really ever felt any love for had been his uncle Gerion. Gerion was said to take after Grandfather Tytos' peaceful attitude—a true role model in Tybalt’s eyes. He also had the unfortunate task of being a second son, and so naturally he and Gerion had something in common. He remembered being bounced up and down on his knee while singing songs like The Lion Who Lost His Roar and The Bear and the Maiden Fair.

Tybalt had loved Gerion. And then the jolly dreamer sailed off to Old Valyria and never returned, in search of a sword that had been lost for less than long enough already.

And Tybalt was left to the cold regard of his father.

The Lannister gave a sigh as he looked up at the moon, wishing his uncle, mother, and grandfather weren’t forced to be punished for their relations' choices. He wished Ellaria didn’t have to be punished, either. She often held a sorrowful expression when she though no one was watching her—even though she was always being watch, personally by Tybalt himself.  He hadn’t had a difficult time of noticing that the young Queen often wandered outside of her Hall alone, taking a nightly routine walk about the castle grounds. Tonight, he was glad to see, was open of those nights.

He heard the door to the gallery walk open and close, as he had committed the very same action when he had stolen from the Keep to come outside. He half turned to watch her, somehow delighted by the simple movements she made. She pulled her unlined, dark grey cloak tighter about her shoulders as she walked on, towards the Godswood.  When Ellaria came closer he turned back to face the other way and used everything he had to feel her movements form then on. She surely must have seen him, however, he had felt more rather than saw her pause in her step some distance behind him, as though she were unsure of what to say after not speaking to him for days.

 He remained still, so as not to startle her further, although he turned when he took note of a shift and saw that she was half turned to go. She shivered as an icy breeze lifted her skirts and brushed against her legs, and kept moving so as not to freeze where she stood. The young woman didn’t seem so bothered by the frigid cold that whipped her hair from her shoulders than the recent ice that had settled into her heart; she had been little more than cruel to Tybalt these past few days, blatantly ignoring him whenever she caught sight of him-- much to her men's delight he did not doubt. Tybalt understood, however, although he wished she would see that he wasn’t who she made him out to be. He was sure she just couldn't stand to be reminded that a Lannister walked her halls, although it made him wonder why she had released him from his imprisonment and made him an Honored Guest. She was a woman he was sure did not want to seem weak to her Bannermen, and Tybalt was almost certain that her actions were beginning to make her seem weak—a mindset he did not want her men to carry with them.