The Snow Keep

Of all the people she didn't want to see, Ser Arys Dayne topped the list. Tall, handsome, charming, most people would find Lady Melicent 's aversion to Ser Arys difficult to understand. The Dornishman had come to Karhold at the age of fourteen as squire to Melly's uncle Ser Robert Karstark. He was a third son to Ser Edric Dayne, and was prone to long speeches about the valor and glory of his uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.  He also enjoyed boasting about Dayne's greatsword, Dawn, which was said to be forged from the heart of a falling star. He also told endless tales of Prince Oberyn Martell, the infamous Red Viper of Dorne. With his poisoned blades and bastards scattered all over Dorne, Melicent thought the Red Viper's lascivious exploits to be unimpressive and his questionable tactics made him seem dishounourable. Arys, however, seemed to idolize the Dornish Prince. Arys was five years older than Melicent , and developed a fascination wit

The serving girl led the way to her chamber in the King's Pyre Tower and Melicent followed. By now she could have found her way on her own, as the castle’s layout was not as complex as it first seemed. Now, however, she followed the girl blindly. She was lost in thought, surprised at herself, at her actions, her reactions. She did not want him to go. When they arrived, she was relieved to find the rooms she shared with Nella to be empty, but for their ladies maid, Mynne. She had had very little sleep, and wished to just go to bed, but she knew she would need to face her family before long. Thinking perhaps a bath would refresh her, she asked the serving girl to wait and had Mynne gather fresh clothes and toiletries. Then the serving girl led them back down through the huge castle and across the Inner Ward until they reached the Bathhouse.  She settled into one of the large tubs and tried to clear her mind. It was no use though, as she well knew. Melicent closed her e

http://magpiesocks.tumblr.com/ Sansa Sansa sat trembling beneath The Hound’s cloak,she could smell smoke and blood,she looked at her hand it was spotted with gore and dirt where she had stroked Sandor Clegane’s cheek.     She still didn't know why she did it,it felt right and when she touched him the dread she had felt for so long now seemed to seep away. The Hound’s tears were still wet on her finger’s ,she really thought that when she opened her eyes he’d still be there,but he was gone. It frightened her to realize that she wanted him there. The one person she wanted and needed was one of the most frightening people she had ever met,she should be wishing for her father, her brothers, one of the many knights she had kept in her heart but they had all let her down.

http://magpiesocks.tumblr.com/ Sandor He closed his eyes to stop the tears from falling,the soft hand cupping the ruined part of his face was burning him harder than the coals that made the scar so long ago. The fury,lust and violence he felt when he touched he knife to her throat left him the moment he heard her strained thin little voice,a little voice for a little bird and yet this wisp of a woman had unmanned him with one touch,her hand felt like it was burning through to his soul.   Sandor stood, disgusted with what he had planned to do to the trembling body that lay prostrate on the bed. He ripped the ruined white cloak from his shoulders hating it and its rules and its glories, it seemed to shout at him without a voice “RUINED” “RUINED” everything about him was ruined,and he ruined everything He thew the kings guard cloak from him as if it was on fire,”I AM NO SER!” It represented everything he was not and could never be,but he would do one honorable thing,

They led her into the cottage, the Elder Brother helping her to the soft pallet covered with furs and blankets. A fire burned, and cheese, bread and a flagon of cider sat on a low table. “Thank you” she said, remembering her courtesies but her voice so low she did not know if they heard her. “Lady…Alayne,” the Elder Brother paused “you have traveled far on dangerous roads. Whatever you run from will not find you here. Rest and we will speak tomorrow.” They filed out, and she lay back, staring into the flames. She prayed, for sleep, for courage, and for something she knew could not be true. A noise outside made her leap up. She couldn’t be sure how long she slept, but the fire was dull and darkness crowded in. She pulled the furs to her chest, scrambling into the shadows as the sound came again. Someone, or something was outside. Her breath caught in her throat as a huge darkness entered the cottage, bending to fit through the low door and slowly moving into the

1.  He nods to her. He often sees her in the lobby beside the mail slots. She looks up quickly, nods back, then rushes away. Her loose sleeves flap behind her like wings. 2. He hears her. Sometimes begging, sometimes crying. But he turns up the TV and drinks his coffee. 3. She waits in the hallway, right in the middle, on the border of his front door and hers. The hall light makes the red in her hair shine, but the bruise on her face is purple. 4. “He’s left me. He. Left. Me.” She laughs, and as she does her lip splits. She doesn’t laugh again for a while. 5. One day he comes home and she is drunk. She begins to cry so he reaches out to touch her hair. She flinches, so he drops his hand. “What happened to your face?” she asks. “My brother.”       “We’ll fix each other” she says, and starts to sing. 6. She kisses his cheek in the morning, and when he gets home. Always on the scarred side. “Must be love” the guys at work say. “We’ll fix each other” she’d said, and he runs his

Lord Gregor stood in the middle of the Hall of the Hundred Hearths and watched his betrothed run lightly after the serving girl. He stood and watched as she left the hall. And he stood there after she had gone, watching the empty doorway. He had sent her away once, but she’d come back. If she came back again…   But she did not come back again, so after several moments, he turned and left the hall. Upon arriving at his chambers, he yelled for his squire to bring hot water and fresh clothes. His squire, Joss Stilwood, knew better than to question his Lord, though he’d already laid out clean clothes this morning. Gregor noticed that Joss had polished his armour and laid it out for him. This was good, he had already delayed much longer than he had meant to. He washed himself and dressed, then Joss helped him with his armour. First went on boiled leather, then chain mail over that. Then the thickest, heaviest plate armour ever made in the Seven Kingdoms. It was so incredibly heavy that n

Lord Gregor leaned back in his chair and frowned. Melicent d id not know what to do or say. He did kill his second wife. He’d said so. But how…and why? What had happened between them? She dared not ask. She dared not speak at all. She felt the bravery she had shown earlier begin to drain slowly, replaced by a strange calm. All were silent, speechless until Nella spoke. “And will my sister be safe with you…?” and then added bitingly “My Lord…” Nella’s face was dark with anger. Melicent closed her eyes for a moment. This will not go well… Gregor, still frowning, seemed to consider for a moment. “I do not know. I cannot guarantee her safety, no… but I will not hurt her purposefully.” he said thoughtfully. “How kind of you to say so, Ser.” Nella retorted and laughed bitterly. “I feel so much better knowing she will possibly be safe with you.” she laughed bitterly “Nella, stop this!” their father said sharply, rising to his feet. “Remember yourself, girl! We are guests here!” “G

Nella ran through the Godswood, jumping over roots and vaulting downed trees. Unlike her sister Melicent , Nella had never met a tree she couldn’t climb. Two girls could hardly be more different. Nella was the younger by two years. Where Melicent took after their mother with green eyes and flowing chestnut hair, Nella resembled her father’s side of the family, as she had inherited the Karstark’s deep brown eyes and hair, so thick and dark it was nearly black. Despite their differences, they were extremely close friends. Nella, the bolder, was extremely protective of her sister. She’d woken up when the sun was just about to come up. Melicent was gone, not in the window seat, not in the small sitting room that they shared with the other girls. She had begun to feel a flutter of worry in her tummy then. Where in the world could she have gone in this terrible place, in the middle of the night? It felt wrong to Nella somehow. She dressed quickly and pinned her hair back without waking M

Lord Gregor looked down at Melicent and smiled, darkly. He walked away from her and sat down on one of the huge roots of the Heart Tree, then he leaned back and looked her over once more. She was a bit over five feet tall, with fair skin that glowed in the soft light of the clearing. Her flowing chestnut hair was unbound and fell in soft waves to the small of her back. Her eyes were big and green, she had soft features that made her look young, yet she was beautiful enough that she looked by no means a child. He admired the curve of her hips, small waist and full breasts.  “I am most pleased with you, my Lady. My last wife was not so beautiful as you.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “She is dead now.” She blushed. “I’m so sorry to hear that my Lord.” she said quickly, as she seemed to not quite know how else to respond. “You must miss her very much.” “Hmmph.” He grumbled. “Miss her? No. I don’t miss her. You’re a funny little creature … I think perhaps you will amuse me more t

She wept as she’d never wept before, and time passed. Mist rolled in and it grew cooler. She curled up against the Heart Tree and laid her head on one of its huge white roots. She slept and woke and wept and prayed. She asked the Old Gods to keep her family, her remaining people, her homeland safe. I need to know what to do…Will the Lord of Harrenhal turn us out if Father refuses him? Will he turn on us? He is a brutal man who shows no mercy to those who anger him… Just then she heard a sound, a light step on the mossy ground. She raised her head and froze. Just steps away was a fawn, a little doe, just days old. She paused, then moved toward Melicent on spindly legs. She was delicate, yet clumsy in her movements, picking up each foot carefully, as though walking was a task she had not yet mastered. Melicent remained where she was, afraid to move and startle the fawn. In a moment they were face to face. The fawn lowered her head and nuzzled Melicent ’s hair. The gir l held her br

She hurried after the girl who slowed her pace a little to let Melicent catch up. “Thank you for showing me the way” she said, a little breathlessly. “This place is so big, I can’t imagine I’d ever learn my way round.” “Yes m'Lady.” the girl said quietly. “What is your name? “Weasel, m'Lady.” the girl said. “Weasel? But that’s not a name for a little girl!” Poor thing, she thought. ”Don’t you have another name?” The girl looked at her for a long time as if considering her. And then, as though Melicent had somehow had met her approval, she said “Arry.” Melicent  smiled “ You know, somehow Arry, you remind me of my sister, Nella.” “You…you remind me of my sister too… Lady Melicent .” “Oh? What is your sister’s name?” Arry looked down at her feet. “It doesn't matter. She’s gone now.” “I’m so sorry. I lost a brother when I was younger. I miss him dreadfully.” Melicent thought of her younger brother Godric who had been killed in a fall from a horse whe