From Winter To Sumer and Winter Again 2

Part 17

The familiar bustle of Winterfell had returned. In a silent joy, the servants happily fulfilled their duties in attempts to honor their new and temporary Lord and Lady. Rhaenyra used this to her advantage. She leaned against the platform that supported the high table of the great hall, she calmly watched as various servants began to deeply clean the filth of the royal visit. Her eyes anxiously watched as two men replaced a tapestry feet away. She sighed heavily as one man nearly fell attempting to pull the heavy art from the wall. Rhaenyra turned her gaze as a light giggle erupted near her.

"A man nearly falling to his death humors you?" Her violet eyes questionably watched the wildling woman on the floor. The woman shredded hay, attempting to spread it amongst the grime on the stone floor. "Does it?" She asked once more intrigued.

"No my lady," she spoke. Rhaenyra laughed lightly, she brought her hands to her face enjoying their coolness against her cheek.

"I find it quite jesting." The woman's head snapped up, a peculiar look on her face. "Tell me," she dropped her hands to her waist, gripping them together in the hidden comfort of her sleeves. "What is your name? No one seems to know. I am tired of calling you, woman."

"Osha," the woman looked to the floor, gathering more hay as she did.

Rhaenyra nodded, "Osha, that is a pretty name."

"Not meant to be pretty. Just something to call me by," she sat against her feet, ignoring the shackles that held them together. "May I ask you something now?" Rhaenyra nodded and pushed herself from her position, she stood hoping to allude a dominant stance, "Can you tell me a bit about your family? I find it a bit confusing, trying to know who the lords are."

Rhaenyra's mouth opened, she cocked her head to the side. "Of course. Ask what you will."

"You are not a Stark. I can tell by your eyes, they look nothing like good ol' Benjen's." Rhaenyra did not interrupt. "But?" Osha's gaze met hers, "Who are your children? Who is your Lord husband? I find it rather odd no other servant is willing to answer a silly slave's questions." Rhaenyra giggled at her sarcastic remark.

"I am Stark, but I was born a Bolton." Osha froze, her hands shook as hay began to lightly fall from her grasp. "Yes, I am aware of what my father willingly does to your people. You are safe here. I am not going to turn you over to him unless you bring my family harm." Rhaenyra watched as Osha's shoulders shook slightly, her gaze adverted back to her duties. "My husband is the bold fellow you see around the grounds, the redhead. My sons are the little boys who look just like him, the ones hanging off of me most times. His brothers are the only children living here, they are sweet boys," Rhaenyra sighed. "The other young fellow is Theon, don't worry about him. If he speaks to you, harms you in any way, let me know." 

Osha looked back, feeling as if the ward would appear at the mere mention of his name. "He is odd. He gives a horrid feeling when he's near. Leaves your mouth tatsting rancid after talking to him," Rhaenyra giggled. 

In her quarters, Rhaenyra crawled on the stone floor. She slowly stalked to the foot of the bed trying to ignore the tears on the skirt of her dress. She abruptly rose, placing her arms along the furs. Her face contoured into a silly expression, erupting screeches from her children. Domeric smiled and clapped his hands, "Again!" He demanded. Rhaenyra retreated back to the fireplace and proceeded to repeat her actions. Domeric squealed again, he fell against the pillows in his humor. Rhaenyra smiled, she pulled herself to the bed to see her sons. Henry curiously watched, his grey eyes questionably looking from his brother to his mother. 

"You find me funny? My beautiful boy thinks me hilarious!" She pulled Domeric from the pillows. Her hands gently pulled his small tunic, revealing the pale skin of his stomach. Rhaenyra tickled the exposed skin, laughing along with him.  "Henry!" The baby turned to her, carefully gnawing at his hand. "What shall we do with your brother? Send him away? Eat him," she ignored Domeric's screams of protest, "Or shall we kiss him until he learns not to laugh at his mummy." Rhaenyra giggled as she kissed her son's cheek. 

"No mama!" Domeric squeezed away, finding safety besides his brother. "Funny mama," Rhaenyra gently tapped his cheek before turning to Henry. 

"And you sweet boy did not help in the torment fo your brother," her hand reached to smooth the light hair on his head. She was interrupted by the bedroom door opening. 

"Dada!" Screamed Domeric, he quickly heaved himself off the bed to run to his father. "Mama funny," Rhaenyra gave a look of false anger to her child. 

Robb lifted his son into his arms, "How so?"

"She is," he placed his head against Robb's shoulder, his small hand tangled into his father's hair.   He sighed gently before burrowing himself into his father's cloak.  

"Alright, I believe you. Love," his blue eyes met Rhaenyra's. "We must speak urgently." He turned to Domeric, whose eyes slowly began to close. "You will go with Old Nan for a kip." Rhaenyra watched as her husband opened the door to hand Domeric to the woman. She was surprised the see she did not crumble under her son's weight. "Hello," he smiled brightly to her. Rhaenyra simply waved before bringing Henry to sit on her lap. 

"What shall we discuss," Robb walked to her, falling to his knees as he reached the two. His arms fell to either side of her, gloved hands smoothing over the thick furs. "Or you just wanted to watch or son taste his skin?" She laughed, pulling Henry's hand away from his mouth. She shook her head before bouncing Henry against her knee. He cried loudly before attempting to grab his father's face. Robb did not mind as the wet hands grabbed his nose. Rhaenyra disgustedly looked at her husband's face, it shinned from the drool their son lovingly whipped. 

"I had something in mind." He stood then, towering over the two. "I've called the banners." Rhaenyra ceased bouncing her son, pausing immediately. Her violet eyes bore into his, emotion not evident in her gaze. "I need some words, Lady Stark." She tried to speak, nothing. 

Rhaenyra stood, holding her child in one arm. She threw the other around her husband's neck, he gripped her waist.  "I have never been more proud," she turned and kissed his scratchy cheek.  "When will they come?"

"Tomorrow most likely, the day after at the latest." Robb began to remove his thick cloak before handing her a scroll. "This is why were going," Rhaenyra quickly recognized the curved letters, the words were in a different tongue. 

She shook her head before throwing the parchment into the unlit fireplace. "Those aren't her words."

"You don't think I know that." 

"Well its good to know they are expecting us."