DYING EMBERS || ROBB STARK

E I G H T

"Mummy! Mummy!" A little girl runs through the sun bearing Castle, her sandle clad feet tap against the elegant floors clumsily as she runs through the halls with ease. She has no idea where she heads but trusts in the echoed laughter of her mother to guide her. Soft ringlets of light brown hair flow in the soft breeze of the desert, away from her sight as she is determined to find her mother and show her prize.

And so appears the maternal figure, like a goddess she appears, pushing a set of double doors open her smile is grand and as warm as the sun as she stops the child in her steps. Her lightweight cloak is like a cape as the wind pulls the soft pink material back to show the cut out dress she wears underneath, a change to the winter clothes she had now grown accustom to wear. She feels at home in them, the smell of sea salt and sand clinging to her senses as if to welcome her home after her travels and it's this that she hopes to find in her young daughter.

"Alma! What have you been up too?" The mother questions her bright child, the small 8 year old turns her mothers way and brightly smiles. Her eyes mirror both father and mother as they mix a warm brown with sea green, a perfect entanglement of colors that earned her the nickname of summer frost.

The bright child smiles, rosy full lips parting as she outstretches her hand to reveal a blue snake in her palm. It coils and hisses lowly, and the mother hides her string of fear with a smile as she bends down, dress flowing around her. "Oh my sweet, you've made a dangerous friend."

The snake doesn't appear to want to harm, despite its nature it seems to actually be quite comfortable in the little girls palm but even so the mother isn't comfortable. She caps her hand around the child's and gently takes the snake, careful not to frighten it. The young child observes this. "But mama, he was my friend!"

A few teeth are missing from her mouth and the words slightly slur, changing the tone of them from sadness to slight humor as the mother only chuckles lowly and walks towards the windowsill. She lets her palm open and extends the snake towards the trail of flowers to where it slithers off towards the Dornish waters. "Even so, you must learn to leave them be, not all are friendly, some are just cruel."

The young child nods, a wonder in her glossy eyes that makes the mother bend down to kiss her cheek with a gentle touch. When she pulls away the child looks out the window to the bright day, "when will father be back? I miss him and my brothers."

The mother feels for her child, she was a young babe but even so was close to her elder brothers, they treated her as an equal not simply a lady.

"They should be back soon, Uncle Oberyn wished to show them the boarders of Sunspear, you know your brother, Richard, will rule these lands one day and it is best he grows accustom to them." She extends her hand, the young child wrapping her own tightly. "Come let's find your grandfather, the old man must be waiting with some treats."

Alma nods, but her lips set firmly and she wonders what her life will be like when she is her mothers age. Her mother is so elegant, so regal and beautiful even at her young age she knows what true beauty is like, she see's it everyday when her mother sings to her as she brushes her hair or when she walks Winterfell and greets everyone with a smile. She sees it in the faces of men and women alike, true beauty is kindness, true beauty is being a humble person. She wonder if this will be her life one day, if she will have a place to call her own, if she will be queen like her Aunt Sansa or a Lady of some highborn lord. Her heart grows with fear at these ideas because she knows that none of these ideas amuse her, she is as wild as her aunt Arya. Her heart yearns for the comforting words of the women warrior, wishing that Braavos was not so far.