CHAPTER EIGHT
word count: 2994

Taryn climbed the steps to the Lord's solar. Two months had turned the bloody cuts on her hands to jagged pale scars. The ache of the injury had lessened, it was a symbol of survival. Now her tired paces were revived with Taryn's more signature joy. It had been days since she had seen Robb about the castle. Taryn hoped it was not childish to admit that she missed him. But even more so, she was worried for him. Since the assassin had tried to kill Bran, all of Winterfell had been on high alert, desperate to know how a killer could have slipped into the walls. No one spoke of the assassin anymore — Taryn did not know who he was, or who had hired him, or how he had gotten his hands on a Valyrian steel dagger. They were questions Taryn had hoped Robb would be able to shed light on, but every time she tried to see him, Robb slipped through her grasp.

The hope in her heart dimmed when Taryn came to stop before the locked door, which had two guards standing in front of.

"I'm here to see Lord Stark," she offered politely. The words were unnatural and foreign on her tongue. Lord Stark was Robb's father, not Robb.

The guards stiffened. "Lord Stark isn't here," one of them replied. "He rode out at dawn."

"Oh. Thank you anyway."

Was he avoiding her? Taryn only wanted to go riding again, and Robb was the only person she trusted to accompany her. If Robb had not also been distant from his brothers, Taryn would have been certain that she had done something wrong to him. Weeks passed in agonising slowness after the assassin's attack, and it had taken days for Taryn to realise Lady Stark was no longer at Winterfell — not that Taryn knew where Catelyn was or why she had left, Taryn had barely seen Robb for long enough to be able to ask him such a question. He disappeared for days at a time, locked away with Maester Luwin, or visiting distant holdfasts with his captain of the guard. She tried going to him frequently. Soon the guards would just start giving her Robb's schedule, or worse tell her to give up. Sometimes Robb came to the door, a deep tiredness in his eyes with a brief flicker of light when he saw her, which quickly faded.

Instead, Taryn spent more time with the youngest Starks — morose, wild Rickon and isolated, bitter Brandon. When the ache of missing Taryn's own siblings cut deep as the Valyrian dagger, Taryn was glad there were others she could seek comfort in. The boys were so young and their family had left them behind. Taryn would not leave them behind too. The castle had been revived with commotion when Bran had suddenly awoken. He had no memory of the day he fell, and had lost the use of his legs. Which gave Taryn greater encouragement to draw him out of his dark room. In her own spiral, Taryn was beyond grateful to Jeyne and Lana for pulling her back to life, Taryn hoped she could offer a similar solace to Bran.

At breakfast, the Princess sat with her ladies, the youngest Starks, and the sparse members of Winterfell's household. Taryn had heard Robb had begun taking his meals in his chambers too, when he was not away, devoting himself to the upkeep of Winterfell and the North at all hours. Taryn understood the pressure Robb was under, she wanted to tell him that he needn't suffer through this alone: she could help him. Yet Robb seemed to have more time for every member of his household but his brothers and Taryn.

"My ladies and I are going to the village today," Taryn told the youngest Starks. "Is there anything I can bring back for you?"

Bran shrugged, picking at his food. Rickon gave it more thought. "Sweets, please," he answered with a toothy grin.

Taryn smiled. "An excellent choice."

Rickon pushed his plate away, his breakfast only half eaten. His smile had faded, face set back in sadness. "You'll come back soon, won't you? Sooner than Robb?"

Taryn rested a hand on his small shoulder. "I won't leave. Not forever. Neither will Robb, everything will get better soon."

***

The sun had reached its peak when Taryn and her ladies arrived at the village. They had passed beyond the winter town, which was left mostly empty during the years of summer and would offer little in the way of entertainment for the girls. The village they had found was a few miles from Winterfell, surrounded by farmland with streets too small for their wagon to go down. Taryn and her ladies left their guard and the edge of the village and rejected their offer to follow the girls to the market — Taryn had been to Flea Bottom unaccompanied before, a northern village would be pleasant in comparison.

The weekly market sat in the middle of the village, where every street led to. It was busy with residents and visiting farmers, small wooden stalls brimmed with food and crafts. Children ran underfoot while coins were passed between customers and vendors. There was far more order than what Taryn often saw in King's Landing. At home, the smallfolk were most often against each other and unafraid to steal, but here there felt a stronger sense of community. The residents and visitors were friendly and relaxed. As she became reminded of King's Landing again, homesickness hit her like a punch in the gut — she missed her home every day, her family and the people she had befriended over the years. It had been barely four months since Taryn had left the Red Keep and the city she was raised in, scarcely long enough to warrant a visit home. Still Taryn wished the distance between Winterfell and the capital was shorter.

Taryn, Lana and Jeyne stayed close by each other to be safe in their company. But the longer they stayed, Taryn felt comfortable in the crowd, and she felt bad that her friends had to stay so close to her. The Princess found herself at a toy stall. Taryn's fingers drifted over a small wooden lion, its details carved out with incredible precision. She drew it closer, enclosing the wooden creature in her fist, missing her siblings more than ever. Taryn's gaze lifted to where Lana and Jeyne were standing, two stalls down. They were looking at cakes, trying to decide between four flavours. Guilt snaked through Taryn's stomach — they had both left behind their families to come to King's Landing to serve their Princess, but it was another thing entirely to have brought them to Winterfell and allowed them to stay. Taryn knew Erielle and Alyssa had their own betrothals to greet them upon their return to King's Landing, though she had not heard from her friends yet. Jeyne and Lana had siblings, both were eldest daughters who had their families depending on them. Taryn had no choice but to stay at Winterfell, her friends, her ladies, had no such commitment. Taryn would let them return to the south if they asked, but an awful, selfish part of her wished the question would not come (Taryn did not want to be alone here).

"Oi, bugger off!" The vendor of the toy stall snapped at four children, none older than six, who were playing with knights and dolls at the edge of the table. "No paying, no playing!"

One of the little girls held out a few coppers, bottom lip stuck out, hope shining in her eyes, but the vendor sent her and her companions away.

Taryn set the wooden lion back on the table. "She had enough for a toy. Why did you refuse her?"

The vendor turned to her with a frown. "'Cause those children are good for nothin'. Little thieves, that's all they are. You give 'em one, they'll take 'em all."

"They're only children," Taryn argued, watching them run away through the crowd.

The vendor's eyes narrowed. "I'm tryin' to run a business, not a charity. I've got my own kids to feed."

Taryn opened her drawstring purse and withdrew a few gold coins. "For the dolls and the knights," she said as she handed the vendor the coins. "Might I have a bag?"

Flustered, the vendor nodded and quickly passed Taryn a paper bag. The vendor began counting out the change as the Princess carefully laid the toys in the bag.

"Oh, no. I don't want the change," Taryn said when the vendor tried to press a pile of gold and silver into her hands. "Please keep it, I insist. Just treat the children with more kindness next time, that's all I ask."

"O-of course, m'lady. Thank you."

Taryn moved on. She watched for the children until she saw them gathered on a corner at the edge of the market, hiding in the shadows of a slim alley. All skin and bone, they stared at the food stalls in a way that made Taryn realise she had never felt hungry in her life. As she came to stand before the children, she saw how their instincts urged them to run away — instincts which faded as Taryn crouched down to their heights.

"Here," she said as she offered the bag to the boy closest to her.

Rightfully suspicious, the boy was slow to take the bag and peek inside. He grinned and turned to show his friends. The children gasped happily and stared at Taryn. "Thank you, m'lady," the first boy said politely as the children took the toys out of the bag and immediately began to play together.

Taryn also brought out a handful of gold coins for the children to share between themselves. "Please take this too. Eat well."

Gold almost spilling between their fingers, the children stared at the young princess in awe. The children thanked Taryn profusely, tucking coins In the pockets before they ran off in search of food and their mothers. Taryn smiled as she watched them go until they were swallowed up by the crowds at the end of the alley.

"Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing with all that gold?"

Taryn turned to see a man approaching her from the other end of the alley. The man was grimy and lanky. He reeked of alcohol, even though it was still so early in the day. Tucking away her purse, Taryn started walking away quickly. The man, however, was far swifter than Taryn anticipated. He caught her, pinning her against the wall, inches from the edge of the gloom.

"Please leave me alone," Taryn requested, her voice calm. She did not want to cause a fuss, not if she could deal with this man before her trembling heart burst from her chest.

The man raised an eyebrow at her. "You have all that gold to waste on street rats, but you can't make an offer to an honest man just trying to get by?"

Taryn fumbled with the drawstrings as she brought her purse back into her hands, counting out five gold coins to press into the man's hand. He immediately pocketed the coins and began to look Taryn up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.

"My ladies and guards will be looking for me. Can I–"

The drunk leered closer to her. "Oh, you're a proper high born lass. What are you doing all the way out here? I didn't think it possible to get bored in a big fucking castle."

"I'm just visiting, please leave me alone."

Suddenly, there was the distinct scratch of steel being unsheathed before a slim blade was drawn against the drunken man's throat. "The Princess said to leave her alone."

Taryn stared at the owner of the sword — one of the Winterfell guards who had escorted her and her ladies to the village. Relief fell over Taryn like water quenching a fire.

"I didn't fucking do owt," the man conplained. The blade pressed harder against his throat, enough to draw a bead of blood. He threw his hands up in surrender, nearly tripping over his unsteady feet, before retreating down the other end of the alleyway, muttering to himself.

The guard lowered his blade and reached out to Taryn. "Are you alright, Your Grace?"

Taryn nodded. "Yes. Thank you..." She trailed off. Why did she not know the guard's name? She had seen him around Winterfell plenty of times, always close to Robb.

"Rhys. Pryor," the guard answered. He had soft blue eyes, dark blonde hair that fell in short curls, and a small scar across his right eye from brow to cheek. "Now, let me take you home."

Rhys walked Taryn back through the market, one hand against her back and the other positioned on his sword.

"Taryn!" Lana gave a soft huff, bringing the Princess into her arms. "We were so worried when we lost sight of you."

"Are you alright?" Jeyne asked, reading deeply into Taryn's eyes.

Taryn nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry I got lost."

Before they reached the wagon to board and leave, Rhys took Taryn aside. He took a sheathed dagger from his belt and set it in Taryn's nervous hands.

"Next time someone tries to mess with you," the guard said, "don't hesitate."

Taryn was already hesitating. The skin on her hands felt clammy, the blood had never left. She slid the dagger out of its leather sheath and stared at the short steel blade. Taryn's heart was in her throat. It was clean, unused. "I can't take this."

"It's a dangerous world. I hope you never have to use it." Rhys then gave her a comforting smile. "But if you do, you'll be glad to have it, Your Grace."

***

The sun was low when Robb arrived back at Winterfell. Another three day trip had taken him far from home, and Robb was more than grateful to be home. He joined both his brothers at supper for the first time in too long, the rarest spark of happiness despite the empty chairs around the table — the emptiness of three chairs in particular made Robb grow uneasy as the Stark brothers continued their meal.

"Where is Taryn?"

"She went out with her ladies," Bran replied. He spoke with his mouth full, but Robb did not scold him. "They were going to a village. Not sure if that's Winter Town or somewhere else."

Robb set his cutlery down. "Have you heard them arrive back? Who accompanied them?" Bran chewed at his bottom lip and shrugged.

It was luck that Taryn and her company rolled through the castle gates as Robb entered the courtyard. Taryn stepped down from the wagon, giggling with her ladies.

Robb was more than relieved to see her — Gods, anything could have happened to her. He trusted his guards (the two who had accompanied Taryn and her ladies were fine men) but the world beyond the boundaries of Winterfell was not so predictable. Beneath Taryn's cloak, Robb found a dagger strapped to her left hip. His ice-blue eyes flicked to Rhys — he'd become a member of the guard three months before the King's visit; Robb trusted him and would call him a friend, hopefully that would not change with their next conversation. Rhys glanced at Robb and looked away, an oddly guilty expression across his face. Robb surged forward.

"Nice of you to come home." His face was set in a frown. Robb watched Taryn's smile fade as she saw his expression. She was glad to see him. He was glad to see her too, her face made Robb soften a little. Perhaps he should have given her a kinder greeting — it was too long since they had properly seen each other. "You're missing supper."

Taryn sent Lana and Jeyne along to the Great Hall. She watched Robb's face, trying to read his expression, as she still tried to smile "We lost track of time."

"Did you not think to warn me that you were leaving?" Robb's tone was harder than he intended. "I would have had the whole castle turned over looking for you if not for Bran telling me you'd gone."

Taryn's head twitched in confusion. "I didn't realise I had to tell you everything I do."

Robb gave a hard sigh. "You don't. But you should not leave Winterfell. I want to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Taryn gave a scoff that took them both aback. "It's been two months since the assassin's attack. And you are never here for me to tell you anything! How do you plan to keep me safe? By keeping me in the dark? By letting your brothers feel abandoned?"

Her words cut like a blade. Robb had never heard Taryn raise her voice before. Even as children, they hadn't ever had an argument — not even over dessert. Why had he done this so wrong?

"Where is your mother?"

"That isn't any of your business, Taryn."

She began to walk away from him. Robb reached out to catch hold of her. Taryn's eyes were hollow as she stared up at him. "It is when Bran wastes away in his room and Rickon cries every time you leave. I want to help them, but I can't if we do not understand what is going on."

In two months there had been no answers about the assassin, and how he reached Bran's room unseen. There could be a traitor in the castle, in Robb's guard. The matter had gone quiet, but it was not over. "Swear to me you will not leave Winterfell again without me, or go anywhere alone."

Taryn scrunched her face up, bewildered. "You said I would be safe and free at Winterfell. This does not feel like freedom." She pulled out of his loose grip and walked away, leaving Robb alone to watch her go.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

rhys is played by hayden christensen my beloved 🤍 and yes i gave him the anakin skywalker scar too, sue me.