The Weirwood

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Thanks so much to everyone reading! I love writing this story so much, I just want to keep it going haha. Hope you enjoy! :]

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I awoke, this time much earlier than the previous day and before everyone else. The light from the sun was just beginning to pour in from the windows and the shadows of the dancing snowflakes spread across the room.

I slipped out of my bed and into the cold surroundings, quickly shuffling to a huge chest where my clothes had been bought from Highgarden, all specially made accustomed to the cold.

I picked out a dark emerald dress patterned with silver thread, brand new and surprisingly beautiful. Its fabric felt soft and warm in my hands. I hastily dressed, not wanting to wake mother up, and began to brush my hair in front of the mirror, although I could not see much in the dim light.

I messily plaited my hair and bought it onto my left shoulder, just where I liked it. I pulled a thick fur cloak onto my shoulders that I’d had made previously. It reminded me of Robb, and just the thought warded away the cold.

I quietly left my chambers, hopping swiftly down the steps of the tower and out into the ashen hued chill. Following the same route Robb had shown me before, I ambled towards the Godswood, soon feeling enveloped by great trees much older than I and the keep of Winterfell.

The vast Weirwood stood in the distance, its white trunk almost invisible beside the snow. Its blood-red leaves, however, could be seen a mile off. A small pool, which I hadn’t noticed before, lay still in front of the tree almost as if it were afraid of the ghastly face staring down at it.

I gradually approached the tree, sitting cautiously upon the log beside it. Again, I thought of the Old Gods. Back in Highgarden I had been taught to worship The Seven… But my place was here now, and The Seven seemed too far south to hear my prayers. I sat quiet for a moment, wondering what to ask of the gods.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps advancing from behind me and I sharply turned to face them, feeling my heart race. When I saw who it was, I stood and bowed, regretting ever coming to the Godswood. “Lady Catelyn.” I spoke with my head lowered, my eyes had not yet met hers.

“Rise, Lady Eliah.” She said, her accent was that of the Riverlands. I did as she said and rose, standing awkwardly as our eyes met. Hers a faded green and mine a pale blue. “I suppose you’re adjusting to the Old Gods.” She said thoughtfully, leaving me no time to reply before she spoke again. “It took me years. I still feel as if this tree looks upon me as a foreigner, although Ned tells me otherwise.” She came closer to me then, sitting down on the log and gesturing for me to join her.

She stared into the pool, and despite being a Tully by birth she could easily have passed for a Stark. “You and I are very similar, Lady Eliah.” I said nothing, only listened to her words that were full of emotion. “I too came here when I was a young girl, afraid, yet... dutiful. To leave your house to wed a stranger is a hardship, but you seem to be coping much better than I.” She turned to me then, a smile on her face.

Lifting my hand she cupped it in her own, her fondness for me showing through in her gaze. “How are you finding it here in Winterfell?” She questioned, waiting in silence for my response. “It’s beautiful," I said warily at first, despite trusting Lady Catelyn. “And the people here seem friendly enough.” A warm smile broke across my face as I thought about the people of Winterfell and only one sprang to mind.

Lady Catelyn smiled back at me then, peering at the direwolf pendant around my neck and then meeting my gaze once again. “I hope my son has treated you well.” She said with a surprising sadness to her tone, clearly remembering the apprehension of being wed to a stranger mixed with the thought of her boy getting married.

I looked down at the thin layer of snow beneath our feet. I smiled, yet the uncertainty of our futures troubled me. “You shall wed in two day’s time.” She announced, knowing she was revealing information to me that I had not yet heard.

I quickly turned to her, my eyes widening as they met hers. Oddly, I was more excited than surprised. I gripped the silver wolf that hung around my neck with my free hand, running my thumb over its gently carved features. Winterfell was beginning to feel more like home, and now everything was fitting into place.

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