Nearly a decade before the Game of Thrones, Rose Tyrell engaged an affair that sent ripples through the richest families of Westeros. With relationships and reputations ravaged, Robb Stark's capture of Jaime Lannister reunites two lost lovers on a j...
As time passes, the concept of a life becomes quite humorous.
A second, a glance, a conversation, or event can become the most momentous moment in a persons life yet in its memory, it manifests itself to only that: a memory. Sometimes, if one is particularly fond of the moment, the recollection is filled with a fluttering positivity. The others who lie on the side of soured emotions would likely wish to bury those who find it positive six feet under with no means of escape.
A memory, however fond or not, can be a catalyst for movement. Stored in the back of an enemies mind for weaponizing, hidden beneath a facade of happiness to bury the pain—the multitudes of a memory's worth is endless. When remembered or introduced to the individual who wishes to spark change, a simple moment in time can alter the events of the world as they know it.
Westeros was no stranger to change.
It was no stranger to memory, it was no stranger to the secrets of the people who inhabit its land. As a cold breeze blew throughout the camp, shrouded by riverbanks and salty air, it was as if winter was arriving faster than anticipated. With winter came the chill. Tightening cloaks and igniting fires, travelers of the great land were reminded of the memory of warmth, of home. Two camps designated themselves victims of the impending chill: Robb Stark and his allied soldiers on a mission to ensure his houses survival post decapitation of its head; and Renly Baratheon, an enemy of the throne in pursuit of his "rightful" position on it.
Each army was engulfed in the early embrace of winter. Each army was joined by other prominent houses, each with their own secrets, their own memories.
The memories of a long-lost winter where secrets went to die and families re-reevaluated their goals. Memories of hushed whispers, stolen kisses, and nights of passion burned into the pits of hell that followed those cold years. Memories that had separated two people for good until two armies stuck in the Riverlands nearly converged with purpose.
Memories like those weren't meant to stay secret forever. And if they hadn't been hushed by the taboo words of others, those scorned never forgot the fractured families and individuals who paid heavy prices for the most sacred emotion in all of eternity: love.
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She had not thought of that memory in a long while. But something about the chill that ran through camp jolted her mind to that unsavory place. Rose Tyrell had been fixated on the scene before her: a fight for the honor and recognition of their King, though she would be amiss if she claimed she was truly listening or paying attention to the reality of the scene. Her eyes were there, her mind was wandering elsewhere in the hypothetical fields of spring.
Her mind hadn't travelled to those memories since... well, since that day. Only in her dreams did she allow for the unsettling nature of revelation come to light. For now, many years past, Rose had another mission.
