Wilting ♞ Sandor Clegane

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THE KINGDOM IS sent into turmoil by the alleged abduction of Lyanna by the Targaryen prince. Robert Baratheon vows to destroy House Targaryen for what they have done, and his wrath is enough to spur many of the great houses into action. Lord Rickard and Brandon march south to King's Landing in hopes of finding Lyanna, an explanation, and a promise Rhaegar would see a punishment befitting his crime, leaving Ned as the acting Lord of Winterfell.

When Rickard and Brandon ride off one morn with a red dawn painting the sky, Anya feels sick. Her stomach churns with guilt for having not just told them where Lyanna was and why she had left. By the time the banners are no longer in sight from the ramparts, she retches up her breakfast several times over. Benjen and Ned send her to see the maester, but there is no tonic or potion the old man can muster that can cure her sickness or absolve her guilt.

The weight of lordship sits heavily on Ned's shoulders, and with his own type of love, he will not allow any of it to fall upon Anya or Benjen. Ravens come and go, but Ned shares no news of the happenings on the Kingsroad or even when his father and brother arrive safely in King's Landing. So Benjen starts catching the ravens before their messages could be delivered, reading the scrolls for himself before mending the wax seals and putting them back in place, letting the bird loose to continue to the aviary.

A warm breeze carries a raven to the castle —Benjen and Anya are waiting to catch the bird before it can reach the aviary and maester. The parchment scroll on the raven's small leg bears the Targaryen seal. Anya takes it and reads the script, but her face falls, and silent tears gather in her eyes. Benjen takes the message to read for himself.

Word has reached Winterfell that Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark are dead. Murdered at the hands of the Mad King Aerys. When the weight of the words settles upon Benjen, Anya is gone. Fleeing to her chambers. Anya cries until tears will no longer fall. To her, their deaths are her fault —everything happening is her fault, all because she chose to honor a promise to Lyanna rather than be hated by her sister.

She ignores the knocking of Benjen and Ned, even Jory Cassel's sweet request that she let him in. Her mind will not rest as she ponders what could have been. What if I told father when I first realized she was leaving? What if I had told him as soon as she left? What if when Robert was screaming about her abduction and the atrocities that could occur to her at the hands of a Targaryen I told the truth? What if my father and brother were still alive?

A raucous noise from Winterfell's courtyard wakes her the following morn. Several hundred Stark bannermen from the nearest houses have rallied after hearing the news from King's Landing. Steel is being sharpened, armor mended and polished. Anya fumbles with the ties of her tunic and breeches and dons her own short sword. Her blue cloak stands out amongst the grey and brown leathers, and as she passes the men, they look upon her with pity. A proper lady would have taken their sympathies, but Anya Whent does not want pity. She wants a good deal of things that are not easily attainable —like justice.

Anya finds Ned overlooking the courtyard, his face set in a grim trance of determination. She's run a dozen sentences through her mind, but it all comes out as a desperate plea —the way she should have pleaded with Lyanna to stay. "I don't want you to go, Ned!"

Eddard turns at his sister's outburst. The first he's seen her in two days. "I must go," he says with a strained and unconvincing smile. "And you must stay with Benjen." They will need each other in his absence. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell," he reminds her, but Anya steps back, shaking her head.

"But I'm not a Stark!" It's a bitter reminder of the truth. She is not a wolf, just a bat.

He grips her shoulders. "You are!" Ned says, almost a shout. "You may not be a Stark by blood" —he moves a gloved hand to rest on her cheek—"but you are in name." She looks at him, bottom lip quivering. "You are Anya Stark," he adds, voice softer, "my sister."