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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl	By : White Glove Literature Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 27883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own Game of Thrones nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 17
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- 19
Sansa paced nervously back and forth through her chambers. She was absolutely terrified and her mind was racing as she tried to decide what she would say. Ravens had been sent to all the holdfasts in the Vale, alerting them to the death of Lysa Tully and the now orphaned Robyn Arryn. Many of them were sure to set out immediately for the Eyrie to convene on who should serve as Regent of the Vale during Robin’s minority, now that the Blackfish and many of the Vale’s nobility were in the North. Sansa was unsure of her own fate or what Petyr’s plans would be, but she was terrified of what the consequences would be if she was accused of having contributed to Lysa Arryn’s death.
Immediately after Lysa’s murder, Petyr had dragged Marillion aside, arguing vehemently with him. Terrified out of her wits, she hadn’t paid much attention to what was said, but Marillion had been arrested for the murder of her Aunt Lysa and taken to the sky cells. Later that night she had been kept awake by his screaming and by the next morning, the sound of his sobbing filled the corridors. She had heard servants whispering that he had been tortured and had confessed to murdering Lady Lysa in a fit of jealousy. Sansa wasn’t sure what to make of this news, but part of her was glad that she wouldn’t have to put up with Marillion leering at her all the time. Still, she had her nagging fears.
“What if Marillion had found out about her encounter with Petyr in the gardens? What if he’d seen? Told someone. Who all knew about it? Did everyone know? Gossip like this had a way of spreading out of control? Petyr had kissed her and then Lysa tried to kill her. What if they accused her of killing her aunt? Would she be arrested? Executed? Would they torture her first? Or gods forbid, send her to the Capital for punishment at Joffrey’s hands.” She paced furiously as these thoughts ran through her panicked mind.
The sound of a knock at her door broke her out of her musings and turning, she hurried across the room to open the door. A distressed serving maid stood there but she instantly cheered when she saw Sansa. “Oh, my lady, thank goodness. It’s Lord Robin. He’s throwing a terrible fit and we can’t calm him down. Could you please help us?” She pleaded desperately.
Nodding, Sansa followed the serving girl down the hall to Robin’s rooms. Robin was fond of throwing tantrums and apart from his mother, only she had the ability to calm him when he got like this. Sansa shook her head to clear it as they walked. When they reached the hallway outside Robin’s rooms, they heard shouting coming from within and what sounded like the maester’s desperate pleading. Opening the door, they had to duck as a book flew across the room and hit the wall behind them.
Sansa bit back an angry retort and calmly strode into the room, a sweet smile on her face. “Sweet Robin dear, what’s wrong? Why are you so angry?” She asked as she crossed the room and knelt beside him on the bed.
“My lords and bannermen are coming. Uncle Petyr says we may have to leave the Eyrie and travel down the mountain.” Robin said, angrily as he pounded his fists on the bed.
“Sweet Robin, at this time of year, if we don’t leave the Eyrie, we’ll be trapped up here and we will starve and freeze to death. There’s no way to get food or firewood up here when the winch freezes and we can’t use the basket.” She said softly.
“I don’t want to go down the mountain, Alayne. The climb scares me.” He whispered softly to her.
Sansa gently caressed his cheek and reassured him in a soothing voice. “Don’t worry, Sweet Robin. The climb isn’t so bad. I made it myself on the way here. And if a poor, helpless maid like me can do it, surely a strong, brave lord like yourself can do it with no trouble.” She said, wrapping her arms around him.
“I suppose so.” He said sounding unconvinced.
“Besides, we’ll make the climb together with your lords and bannermen, and Uncle Petyr will be there too. You don’t want your bannermen to think you’re scared, do you?” She said, hoping to appeal to his ego.
“Of course not.” He said, quickly.
Smiling, Sansa nodded and stroked his cheek. “You’ll be fine. You’ll show them all what a brave, strong lord you are.” She said.
“Will you tell me a story, Alayne?” He asked.
Smiling, Sansa nodded and considered. “How would you like to hear a story about the Griffin Kings of the Vale?”
At once, Robin’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I love your stories, Alayne.”
Sansa pulled him into her lap and smiled as she began her story.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Kevan sat in the small council chamber reading the missive for the third time, hardly daring to believe it. The Martells had been so thrilled to hear of the Mountain’s demise and to finally have the justice that had so long eluded them that Prince Doran Martell had, at last, consented to Oberyn’s appointment to the small council and had even written a letter of gratitude. The magnitude of such a gesture was staggering considering the two houses had been locked in a bitter feud for nearly twenty years now.
Standing abruptly, Kevan strode from the council chambers and headed towards the Tower of the Hand where he knew his brother would be. When he reached the Tower of the Hand the Lannister guards allowed him through and he proceeded down the hall to Tywin’s solar. Knocking on the door, Kevan waited but received no answer, so he decided to wait until later, assuming Tywin was resting in his chambers.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Tywin lay in his bed in the Tower of the Hand, his mind racing. “How had he not foreseen this? His wife was pregnant. His little wolf.” He supposed it was hardly surprising considering he often took his rights as her husband without giving any thought to taking precaution. Inwardly, he cursed himself, feeling the fool now. Arya lay in his arms, looking shyly to the side, careful to avoid his gaze. “Another child? Was he ready for that? His own children had grown up now and the two he loved most had turned out to be a disappointment to him, becoming far too close for his liking. He wasn’t entirely sure how he would deal with Jaime. Still, it’s not like this is a bad thing, is it?” He asked himself.
Yesterday, his life had seemed perfect. Jaime was safely returned to him and adjusting to life at court, despite the loss of his offhand. The Tyrells had calmed down, the city had begun to prosper again. The North was back under the control of the Crown and the Iron Islands were no longer a pressing concern either. He was a little worried by the rumors of a vast host of wildlings marching on the wall, but raids were nothing new. Wildlings had been a nuisance for as long as the wall had existed, still nothing like the numbers being reported. He had planned to reunite his wife with her mother and from there, things began to spin entirely out of control. His surprise had blown up in his face, his wife and her mother now driven further apart than before followed by this sudden news. He had escorted Arya back to the Tower of the Hand and then disappeared inside his solar for hours, alone, to try and process this latest turn of events.
Reaching down he cupped her chin and tilted her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Arya…are you really…?” Tywin trailed off as a worried Arya nodded shyly.
“Are you mad, my lord?” She asked quietly, worrying her bottom lip.
Tywin was silent for a moment and Arya sniffled. “I…I’m sorry…” She started, but Tywin silenced her with a kiss.
“Shh, sweetheart. I’m thrilled. It’s just that this was such a shock is all.” He said as he sat up against the headboard and pulled her into his lap. Cradling her against his chest, Tywin closed his eyes, memories of Joanna flooding back to him. Tywin sent a silent prayer to the seven that history wouldn’t repeat itself and that Arya would survive. He wasn’t sure he could bear the loss a second time. He had never told a soul, but he still heard her screams followed by that sudden horrible silence in his nightmares even now, after so many years had passed. Giving his head a shake to clear his thoughts, Tywin smiled at her, his hands teasing stray locks of her dark hair as he held her.
“How was your day, sweetheart?” He asked softly to distract himself from his line of thought. “It was fine. I spent the day training with Jaqen. I’m doing much better. I was able to block most of his blows and even managed to hit him once. And even Ser Jaime says that I could be a terrific swordsman if I continue my training,” she said, beaming up at him.
Tywin smiled, his fingers carding through her hair as he listened to her. “That’s wonderful sweetheart, but you realize that soon enough I’ll have to cancel your lessons until after the baby is born, don’t you?” He said tentatively.
Sighing, Arya nodded but didn’t look very happy. “I understand.”
They spent the next few hours talking, discussing baby names and plans for the future before settling in for dinner.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Jon ran through the icy wind, his boots crunching the fresh snow beneath his feet as he raced forward, following the sound of her voice. Ygritte was laughing at something he said, shaking her head. “You know nothing, Snow.”
Suddenly, the ground disappeared from under her and she was falling, her eyes glazed over, the laughter suddenly gone. “Nooo…” Jon’s eyes snapped open, breathing hard he sat up in his bed, looking around frantically before realizing where he was. He shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders as his breath fogged the air in the dim light. The fire had died out and only a few glowing embers remained in the hearth.
Standing, he walked over to the table and splashed some cool water from a basin onto his face, before giving his head a shake. Nearby on the floor, Ghost looked at him, his red eyes boring into Jon’s. Jon pulled on his boots and fastened his sword belt around his waist before strolling from the room, walking out into the courtyard. Overhead the moon shone bright and Jon shivered, looking up at the wall.
“Trouble sleeping, Snow?” Startled, Jon turned and saw the Blackfish standing a few feet away, sipping from a wineskin and staring up at the stars.
Jon let out a sigh and nodded. “Just a few memories that are best left in the past.”
Chuckling, the Blackfish shook his head and took another sip from the wineskin. “Ah, a woman then.”
Startled, Jon nodded. “How’d you know?” he asked.
“I’ve been there a few times myself, Snow. Only a woman can cause a man such distress.” The Blackfish said, looking at him now. “Care to share?”
Jon fumbled for a moment before finding his tongue. “Her name was Ygritte. She was a wildling girl I met while ranging beyond the wall.” He said, hesitantly.
Shaking his head, the Blackfish smiled. “Must have been a beauty to make a Stark forget his honor.”
Blushing, Jon sighed but nodded. “A redhead.”
The Blackfish grinned and laughed. “Kissed by fire.” He said, smiling.
“How did you…?” Jon started, surprise evident on his features when the Blackfish interrupted him.
“I’ve been North of the wall a few times myself, Snow.” He said, going quiet as he became lost in thought.
The sound of footsteps made them both look up as Roose Bolton walked into the courtyard, looking as though he had been awake for hours, his emotionless gray eyes fixing them each in turn with a piercing stare as he came to a stop beside them. “Am I interrupting?” He asked, clutching a glass of his favorite hippocras in his gloved hands.
“Not at all. Jon and I were just reminiscing about old loves. Care to join us?” The blackfish asked.
Roose took another sip of his wine while gazing at the Blackfish. “I’ve had my share of dalliances when I was younger, but I have only truly loved once.”
Jon listened, waiting for him to continue but Bolton said no more and neither of them pried. About a half hour later they walked inside, each going back to their own rooms to try to sneak in a bit more rest before the day started.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Late in the evening, Tywin sighed standing from the chair he had been sitting in for the past hour. Deciding on a walk in the Godswood to clear his mind he left the apartments he shared with Arya and made his way down the corridor that would take him outside. He hadn’t made it very far when a voice called out to him from behind. Turning he inclined his head and spoke.
“I didn’t expect to see you out this late, Lady Stark.” He said quietly.
“Err, yes. Well, I have had a lot on my mind lately and thought some fresh air would do me good. I’m glad that I ran into you, actually.” Lady Catelyn said, mustering her courage as she walked beside Tywin.
“Oh? And what did you wish to see me about?” Tywin asked calmly as they continued on toward the Godswood.
“I wanted to talk to you about Arya. I want you to let her go. She belongs with her family. You’ve won the war so there’s no need to keep her hostage anymore.” Lady Catelyn said sharply.
“Arya is my wife, not my hostage. She’s expecting my child. She’ll remain with me. I love her.” Tywin said his voice taking on a firm edge as they entered the Godswood.
Lady Catelyn turned to face him, an angry expression on her face. “We both know that’s a lie. You don’t know how to love. I’m not sure you’re even capable of such an emotion. You’re just using her. You can keep the child if you must. She can have others with a man who will love her and cherish her. Just let her go.”
Scowling, Tywin towered over Catelyn who had the good sense to look afraid. “Tell me, Lady Stark. Are children so easily replaced in your experience? And what could you possibly know of my feelings for Arya? You turned your back on her barely five minutes after you were reunited with her. She hasn’t had a mother for years and the moment she finally has one again she is once more cast adrift. Tell me, which of us doesn’t know how to love properly, Lady Stark?” Tywin snapped before turning on his heel and heading back inside leaving a silent Catelyn behind.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Mance looked up at the wall, the towering structure giving off an eerie glow in the moonlight as all around him his host made the final preparations. Already, climbers were making their way quickly and quietly up the wall, careful to avoid alerting the sentries patrolling the top of the wall. Soon they would reach the top, kill the sentries and raise the gate blocking the tunnel so the wildlings could storm through, taking the remaining crows by surprise.
TBC
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- 18
- 19
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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl