She Wolf • |Book 2|

• Chapter Ten •

"Home," came Ser Alwin's voice. Beside Rhaella, he pulled his horse to a stop, leaned forward in the saddle and stared out across the frosted cover grounds that led up to Winterfell. "Can't say I missed it."

Rhaella turned her head to look at him, "Since when did you declare Winterfell your home, Ser Alwin?" She asked.

He sat up, taking the loose reins into his hands, "Since you refused to give up your right as Queen, your Grace." And with that, he rode on, falling into line with the men riding toward the large castle just below.

From where she sat, able to watch as he rode on past her people, riding to take the lead, she smiled. He had been a difficult man, but loyal. That much she knew. But she did not originally see him remaining in Winterfell after it was all over. He was not one for the cold. Yet, if he called this his home now, how many others would do so out of love for her?

Beneath her she felt her horse shift, the slight tug of the reins pulled her attention away from her people to the approach of another beside her.

"Can't say I'm excited to see this place again," Mystic murmured, violet eyes fixed on the castle.

"You despise anything that is not fighting," Rhaella teased.

"What can I say, I tasted blood and thirst for more."

"Sweet niece," Rhaella turned to her sister's daughter, "you will find that there is another much like you within those walls. Don't let her size fool you."

"Men underestimate me alone for my sex." Was all Mystic said to that.

Rhaella nodded, her smile growing, "Many underestimated many of us."

"And look now where you are?" Sia's soft voice carried long before she appeared beside Rhaella. "Your Grace." She continued on, falling back into line with the wagons carrying supplies and food.

"Shall we join them? Or are you afraid to see him again?"

Her lips parted, deeply she sighed, "I fear no man," she told herself.

"No, but there is a woman within those walls that brought a man you love to his knees. I dare say, you fear more of what you are about to see than any man."

"I have it in my power to wed you to Ser Alwin, you know this?" Rhaella growled.

"You do," Mystic spurred her horse foward, "and you can, but then you would be down a knight."

There was to be no announcement made upon her return. Nor would their be a celebration held. She did not send word beforehand, so when she passed through the gates dressed in a worn black cloak, face hidden beneath her hood, no one paid her any mind.

Ser Alwin had already set to ordering men around to unload the wagons and take the horses. Her direwolves had gone their own ways long before they had even reached Winterfell. She was completely free to merge into the shadows and move about unnoticed.

What made the task of sneaking about even easier, was that an intruder has entered their home and was now put on trial to answer for his many great crimes.

In the middle of it all, in the great large hall where their meeting was taking place Ser Jaime Lannister stood. He had once been a man cloth in gold with a golden aura of confidence to match. Yet the man that stood before them did not look like a man she once knew. Even the dirty captive that once belonged to her late husband looked nothing like the very same man before her.

He had not been the only face new at Winterfell. In the seat placed at the head of the table, sat Daenerys in Jon Snow's former chair. He say beside her now, on the left. And to Daenerys right, her face twisted in a loathsome expression, sat Sansa.

Through the room Rhaella walked silently in the shadows, masked by the darkness of her cloak. All was on Jaime Lannister, not a soul appeared to notice her. Except for Bran. She felt his eyes the moment she entered the room, following her as she made her way to him.

She came to a spot just off to the side of Bran when a voice she hardly remembered called out. The last she had seen of the man responsible, he had been quick to respond with something witty and sip from a cup filled to the brim with wine. Yet like his older brother, he took looked nothing like the man she once knew.

On Tyrion Lannister's chest, a silver hand gleamed as he sank back into his seat beside another familiar face. Varys, a man well known for whispering in many ears, including her's.

To say she did not know Tyrion was traveling with Daenerys would have been a lie. She had been there when Jon recieved a letter from him. Yet, as she looked from Tyrion to Varys, she could not disguise the pang of pain she felt.

In the shadows she remained, watching and listening as the case against Ser Jaime was presented and another came to his defense. It was upon Sansa's pardon that the doors open, emitting two great white direwolves, one with eyes of blue and the other a deep ruby red. They were followed by Ser Alwin and her Queen's guard.

Up at the table, Jon Snow sat up in his chair. Beside him Ghost now stood, while Winter went to Sansa. They watched as Ser Alwin came up beside Jaime Lannister and bowed only to Sansa.

"My lady," he said.

Her own eyes were not on him, but searching the room frantically. Her previous expression had changed, as did her tone, "Where is she?" She asked calmly.

"Where is whom?" Came Daenerys from beside her, irritated already by Sansa's pardon on Jaime. It had been made worse by the lack of recognition from the man that stood before them.

And yet, Ser Alwin continued on as if there were no others in the room, "Her grace is around, I'm sure." He replied, paying no mind at all to Daenerys.

But Rhaella had been. Her gaze had been fixed on the foreign queen from the moment she reminded the room of her presence. And her opinion had been set.

From beside her darkness brushed past, heading swiftly for the table. Winter had just left Sansa's side. As soon as she settled beside Ghost, Sansa was on her feet.

"Welcome home, your grace," the Lady of Winterfell said.

Benches began scrapping against stone as the North knelt to their knees and bowed their heads. Amongst them only one remained standing on the right side of the hall.

She lowered her hood and stepped forward, her direwolves including Ghost coming to her side.

"I was not aware you had returned," Jon Snow spoke up.

"No one was," Rhaella replied. "I have returned, and with more mouths to feed, unfortunately." She had directed the last part to Sansa, a small jest stemming from an argument they had before she left Winterfell. "But I have brought with me food to feed them. I could never let my people starve."

"Your people?" Daenerys stood up to remind them all she was there.

"Yes," Rhaella responded, her tone equally challenging as Daenerys and just as hostile. "My people."

"I thought they were your people?" She turned to Jon.

"She married their previous king," he replied gruffly. "When I told you the North was divided, this is what I had meant."

"And now it's united," Rhaella said, "as it should be. How it will remain until they say otherwise."

She did not give Daenerys the satisfaction of the last word. With the northerners and her wolves, she left the hall.

•A.N•

A pretty long one. And pretty gosh darn fresh. With this final season, I've been understanding how I want this to go.