The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ARYADNE - II

"I didn't— I never said that."

At his clear horror, she relented. "I'm teasing you. How cruel of me."

"I don't mind," he was quick to assure her. "Though, you might make such a favour if you feel so inclined."

If it were any other boy, she would likely take it as a jape at her. However, it was him. For some reason, that meant something else. She hummed, pretending to consider it, then patted his shoulder before mounting. Beginning a slow walk to ease the mare into activity, she called over her shoulder, "I might. It is a shame there's no knights to claim it."

The clopping of hooves soon followed her. It slowed as Robb caught up. As he went to speak to her again, a quiet yapping cut him off. A grey puppy had streaked right across the courtyard, narrowly avoiding getting trampled by all the hunters. It now padded along between them, its tongue wagging as it stared up at them. With a click of his tongue, it jumped right up onto his lap.

"Gods, isn't that marvellous? Is it yours?"

He nodded eagerly and presented the pup to her by the scruff of its neck. "This is Grey Wind. He's only a few weeks old. Go on, you can pet him if you like."

She didn't dare. As cute as it was, she only knew of one creature that could grow to such a size in little time. "It's a direwolf," she gasped.

"He won't harm you, I promise. He's well-trained. Here."

Before she could protest, he had taken her hand and placed it palm-down on the creature's fur. She winced, waited, but nothing happened. The pup gave a yawn and a soft whine. With a tentative stroke, it was clear that it was truly harmless. It nuzzled into her hand and gave it a big lick. Gasping, she recoiled and held the afflicted limb up to show Robb. "He's slobbered all over me!"

He anticipated her next idea and took the pup back, veering his horse away as she tried to wipe the saliva off on him. Both laughing, a game of chase started up. He sped up and she nudged her steed on, arm still outstretched.

"Robb."

Freezing, the pair looked to where his father and the King stood. The lord fixed his son with a disapproving look. They immediately put a stop to their game. The second they were unobserved again, the boy looked to her and burst into poorly stifled snickers. She played along until she could get close enough to run her soppy hand across his back. With a gasp, he shifted away. "No, that's disgusting!"

"You said he was harmless," she reminded him.

"He is."

"Tell that to your cloak."

—

The hunting party paraded into the forest that lay at the edge of the castle. Though they were freer here, a procession still had to be followed. Aryadne's father and Lord Stark lead the way with their servants, then her brother Joffrey with his Hound, her uncle Tyrion and gaunt, sullen man she came to know as Robb's uncle Benjen. She rode alongside Robb. They chatted idly about everything and nothing in particular. She was sure she had never spoken so much in her life.

"Grey Wind," she mused to herself, watching the cub follow behind them, always keeping at a safe distance and never snapping at the hooves like many dogs liked to do.

Robb's attention shifted from the trees to her face. His brows furrowed. "What of him?"

"It is an unusual name. No doubt for the colour of his fur?"

"He's a fast blighter. Runs faster than the wind. All my enemies will see is a blur of grey heading towards them," he replied with an affectionate glance at the creature.