( ACT 2: chapter 1 )
𝚆𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶
a 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 chapter

On their last day together, Alysanne had woken up late and had slept through the first half of her needling lesson with the Septa. She couldn't have known that this would have been her last opportunity to take a class from the woman because within the next few weeks, she would become Lady of Winterfell alongside Robb, and within the next few months, they would be at war.

Theon Greyjoy, Lord Eddard's ward, had been the only one left in the hall by the time she had woken up and gotten herself dressed to have her morning supper.

"Well, well," The Greyjoy boy wore an all-knowing smirk as he turned around on the bench he was sitting on to greet her. "If it isn't the yellow canary walking into the wolf's den."

She had hastily slipped on one of her Northern dresses along with a pair of furry winter boots to keep her feet warm throughout the day but had not had the time to straighten out the style in which she usually wore her hair. The Southern girls usually kept their hair in high, intricate braids. Their locks were supposed to be trapped in restricting, noticeable coiffes, while the Northern girls usually wore their hair down, sometimes in looser braids, other time only halfway in braids or barely at all. In the years she had been at Winterfell, Alysanne had gradually ceased to wear the green and yellow dresses, reflective of the house she had been born into, as she outgrew them. By the time she had celebrated her thirteenth name day, she had fully transitioned to the thick and warm grey, dark blue and brown dresses the Stark girls wore. Her braids had gradually gotten looser, her hair longer and her scalp no longer ached at the end of the day.

She sat down besides him. "You're getting a late start, too." She pointed out, reaching into his plate to steal a piece of warm bread covered in honey.

He laughed, his grey eyes sparkling with amusement, just like they usually did when he was about to say something that would make her blush. "Had a late night at the whorehouse with Ros."

Alysanne blushed, her cheeks felt hot, and she looked away as Theon burst into a fit of laughter. Ever since they'd been children, he'd always gotten a good laugh out of making her blush. It had started with comments in front of Jon and Robb, most likely trying to provoke them, saying things such as "If Alysanne was not betrothed to Robb, I'd love to warm her bed." Which always made Alysanne turn beetroot red. Though despite the blushing, she remained camped on the fact that Theon's comments did not bother her.

"The boys are helping Bran with his archery in the courtyard. You might want to come laugh at the scene with me."

Being the only two children of the Stark family who weren't Starks by blood, the two had gotten close quickly when they had met. They both knew it would be wise not to indulge in stories of home in front of the rest of the Starks, so Alysanne listened to Theon's tales about the Iron Islands, where he was from, while he dutifully listened when she would occasionally voice her concerns about home. Theon, spending a lot of his free time in the brothel outside Winterfell, would often tell her of any gossip or news he heard from the whores concerning home. This was the only news she would get of Highgarden and her family.

"They say your father is looking to marry your sister soon."

Alysanne rolled her eyes at that. "It is not him who seeks to do so, it is surely my grandmother, the Queen of Thorns." Ever since news of her mother's passing had reached her, Alysanne could only imagine how much the news of Mace Tyrell's wife dying had made Olenna Tyrell happy. She had always detested her mother after all, and Alysanne could not blame her for it even if she tried.

They finished their meal quickly, already looking to move on to the next activity of the day as they were already getting a late start to their duties.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The weather outside was grey and grimy by the time Alysanne made it to courtyard, it was practically close to lunchtime, yet Bran didn't seem any closer to hitting that target. She walked over to the gallery above the courtyard, from where she could see Jon and Robb supervising Bran's shooting. She approached the spot where Lord Stark and his wife were watching the scene from and curtsied when they both turned to face her after noticing her presence.

"My lord," She greeted Ned. "My lady," Catelyn nodded warmly at her, inviting her to stand by them. The woman reached out to place her hand around Alysanne's shoulders, trying to bring back warmth into her pale skin, by rubbing it comfortingly back and forth, with the firm yet assuaging grip only a mother could muster.

"Bran is making such progress." Alysanne whispered to Cat, much to the mother's delight, who nodded and smiled down at her oldest son and second youngest boy.

Robb noticed Alysanne first, turning to give her a small, content smille, which she returned shyly.

Loving Robb was safe for Alysanne, it was familiar and secure. It was all she had ever known and despite not loving him in the way she thought a wife should, it felt right. She could picture it if she tried; marrying him on a cold winter morning, being by his side when his father would eventually make him Lord of Winterfell and her, his lady, bringing their children into the world and raising them like they had been, here in Winterfell. She could picture being well into her advanced age, greying hair, and marrying off her children with Robb by her side, to hold her from falling apart as her daughter would leave Winterfell to live in another castle. This picture was what she had been raised to make, it was expected of her and felt all too familiar.

She watched Jon place both his hands on Bran's shoulders, whispering something in the boy's ear that they could not hear from where they stood. Once he seemed to finish what he was saying, the both of them turned to look up at where Alysanne stood along with Catelyn and Ned.

She smiled reassuringly at Bran, nodding her head towards the target he was aiming his arrows at in an encouraging manner. Besides her, Cat smiled at her boy while Ned gave him a firm, father's nod. He smiled uncertainly at the three of them before turning around and returning his focus to the target.

He pulled the string back, the two fingers that were pulling it brushing against the corner of his mouth.

Despite not being granted the permission to train in archery, just like the boys, Alysanne could tell he was too tense by the way he stood. His stood way too stiff and his elbow was too high placed. He did not stop to turn his focus on the target before letting the arrow fly. And when it did, missing the target by quite a lot and going over the bush behind it, she could not help but feel for the stressed out boy when Jon burst out laughing, and Robb turned away to chuckle while Rickon, the youngest outwardly laughed at his brother's face.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned's strong voice brought the boys back to their quiet disposition they had had moments prior as he chastised them for mocking their brother. "Keep practising, Bran." He encouraged the boy.

Bran uncertainly turned his gaze to Alysanne. She smiled again at him, encouraging and warm, "Go on." She mouthed to him as he turned away, focusing on the target once again. Jon leaned forward to say something to him again.

"Relax your bow arm." Robb's voice carried through the courtyard, like a true future Lord of Winterfell and even akin to a king.

Bran, just as Robb suggested, and Alysanne noticed earlier, finally relaxed and lowered his elbow. This time, he took a breath before firing the arrow. Unfortunately for him, another whizzed past his head and came to lodge itself close to the centre of the target. That was not Bran's arrow. The boys turned around, surprised, while Ned, Cat and Alysanne looked down, only to find a shocked, yet proud Arya Stark looking at the target she had just hit as she lowered the practise bow she had managed to get ahold of while sneaking away from the Septa's needling lesson, no doubt.

She barely had the time to curtsy in an insolent and proud manner before Bran had dropped his bow and was charging at her, most likely a little embarrassed and flustered at having been upstaged by his sister, who was only his elder by one year. The boys broke out into laughter at the scene. "Go on, Bran!" Robb laughed.

"Faster!" Jon teased as the boy leaped over the wooden fence while his sister ran away.

Alysanne couldn't help but laugh too at the scene. These little displays were a daily occurence in Winterfell as they were not in Highgarden, so the fifteen year old could not help but bask in these moments while she could.

"Lord Stark!" She almost failed to notice Ser Rodrik's presence, still clinging to the moment that was slowly fading as Robb and Jon started clearing out the archery range as they practise was now over, since their pupil had run off in an attempt to wrestle his sister.

Behind the Master at arms of Winterfell stood Theon, who smirked at Alysanne once their gaze met. She brushed him off with a roll of her eyes just as Ser Rodrik started to speak.

"A guardsman just rode in from the hills." Despite standing behind them, Alysanne could feel Ned's smile drop at what his sworn Master at arms was implying. "They've captured a deserter from the Night's Watch."

Besides Ned, Alysanne could see the change in Catelyn's posture as she tensed at the news. The woman was not one to be able to withstand violence, especially not when her husband was the once committing it. But there lied the duty of the Lord of Winterfell. It was Ned Stark's obligation, to make sure deserters of the Night's Watch did not go unpunished for breaking their sworn oath to the brotherhood they had joined.

Ned Stark took a moment to answer, before instructing Theon to tell the lads to saddle their horses. The boy nodded at the command and walked away.

"Do you have to?" Catelyn spoke up, clearly still uncomfortable with the idea of her husband taking a man's head clean off on their lands.

Ned turned to look at her. "He swore an oath, Cat." He was firm, but not harsh. Simply laying out the simple, cold truth at his wife's feet.

"Law is law, my lady." Ser Rodrik added, most likely trying to convey the obligations that Ned Stark's position entailed and not that the her husband was content with killing a man.

Catelyn shook her head, but did not protest, looking away from the two men before her husband's next sentence had her sharply turning her head back around.

"Tell Bran he's coming too." The Lord of Winterfell instructed his man, who nodded at the command before marching off.

Cat waited until the man had at least reached the door before speaking up. "Ned." Her husband turned to look at her. "Ten is too young to see such things."

"He won't be a boy forever." Ned spoke, darkly. "And winter is coming."

Winter is coming. The words of House Stark, one of only a few house mottoes to be a warning rather than a boast. The words referred to House Stark's vigilance. It was an expression that meant one should always be prepared. As rulers of the North, they must always be ready for anything that could happen—and eventually, something will.

As Ned walked away, followed hastily by Catelyn, Alysanne returned her gaze to the courtyard, watching Rickon run to gather arrows and hand them off to his Jon, for him to stow them away safely.

Loving Jon Snow was dangerous, it was unfamiliar and forbidden. Loving him meant her heartbeat quickening when he would walk into a room, it meant her eyes furiously avoiding him or longing stares when they thought no one was looking. It meant being constantly terrified of someone finding out, risking their positions and their status for feelings they could never act on. Loving him was pointless, because it meant certain doom. She was promised to another, and he would leave Winterfell soon enough, never to return. Yet loving Jon Snow was exhilarating, it made her feel alive. It amounted to clasped hands in dark rooms, unspoken words held back by closed lips, side eyes and avoiding the other when one walked into a room.

Jon eventually felt her eyes burning a hole into the top of his head and stilled, slowly looking up to meet her gaze. No one was looking at them, no ones was looking for them. Her eyes bore into his like she was trying to yell something out at him but did not have the strength to speak the words. Four years of this, of biting their tongues and staring at each other above someone's shoulder, not being able to say what they were dying to say.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

"Lysa!" He closed his mouth quickly enough once he heard Robb calling out to his future wife by the nickname he had crafted for her.

He lowered his gaze and went back to shoving arrows into their storage space, mainly so he wouldn't have to look on as Robb embraced Alysanne and she reciprocated the hug. And as he led her away from the gallery and into the warmth of the castle, Jon cursed himself for daring to feel jealous. That was his brother. His brother, who was head over heels in love with his future bride.

Jon had no right to ever think of Alysanne as his. No matter how much the thought clawed at his heart, threatening to rip apart his most vital organ.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Robb was as still as a marble statue as Winterfell's barber scraped his blade alongside the side of the boy's face. In front of him, Jon was standing, barely clothed, in one of the only streams of light that slipped through the poorly hammered roof and to his right, Theon, also wearing minimal clothing was leaning against one of the wooden pillars besides him. 

"Why is your mother so dead set on us getting pretty for the King?" Jon asked, his brooding face and deep frown conveying that he clearly was not happy about having to get a trim and a fade just for one morbidly fat king. 

"It's for the queen, I bet." Theon piped up snarkily while the barber finished off Robb. "I hear she's a sleek bit of mink." 

"I hear the prince is a right royal prick." Robb muttered. He was worried for his little sister. He wanted her to make a good marriage with an honest man, only she was apparently being thrust into what would soon come to be an insufferable royal marriage to an insufferable royal boy. 

"Think of all those girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick." Theon spoke again, not sensing the broody atmosphere that had settled over the room. 

Before either boys could respond, the barber silently slapped Robb's shoulder, indicating he was finished and should get up for Jon to sit down in his place. 

Robb got up fast, flexing his muscles as he walked past Jon and slapped him on the back. "Go on, Tommy shear him good. He hasn't met a girl he likes better than his own hair."

"Speaking of pricks." Theon turned to look at Robb, "Stabbed our Alysanne with yours yet?"

Robb tensed. Theon's comments about Alysanne had always bothered him more than they bothered her. Unlike his future bride, he did not share the complicity with Theon that she shared, and took offense to any comment putting her worth in question. 

"I would never defile her like that before marrying her." 

 -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

In order to greet King Robert Baratheon and his men, Catelyn had them lined up in the courtyard in front of the entrance to the castle. She had Rickon at her left side and her husband to her right. Besides Ned was Robb, besides Robb was Alysanne, who was supposed to precede Sansa then Arya, then Bran, though Arya was knowhere to be found in the line up as the King marched his men and family into the grounds of Winterfell. 

"Where's Arya?" Catelyn had stepped out of the line-up to look at the empty slot in between Sansa and Bran. "Sansa," She called out to her eldest daughter. "Where is your sister?" 

Sansa shrugged in an uninterested manner. 

"I know you know where she is...." Alysanne whispered teasingly in Sansa's ear. 

The younger girl had always looked up to Alysanne. As a young girl, Alysanne's word was practically akin the the old gods' to Sansa, who used to toddle after the older girl everywhere she went. Now, she was growing into a moody girl of thirteen, who, despite still admiring her future sister in law greatly, had started understanding the meaning of a particularly great word known as 'No'. 

Sansa did not answer immediately, though her desire to be considered a grown up in Alysanne's eyes won over stubbornness and she decided to answer. "I do, I just don't care." 

Just as Alysanne was about to roll her eyes at the girl only two years younger than her, little Arya Stark emerged from the crowd and raced forward to reach her family before the King could. Alysanne pointed out to Robb that she was wearing his old sparring helmet. The boy let out an amused chuckle just as Ned reached out to stop Arya from running past him by grasping her bony arm in his strong hand. "Hey, hey, hey." 

She stopped running just as he lifted the helmet off her head. "What are you doing with that on?" 

Alysanne heard Jon chuckle behind her. "Gon on." Ned gently nudged her towards the end of the lineup. 

Arya stomped past Alysanne and her sister, before shoving Bran in order to create a space for her. "Move." 

Arya had barely fit herself into the small slot between Bran and Sansa, that the King's men were trotting into the courtyard, a floating blond head behind them, surrounded by red and gold banners, the Lannister's colors. That mop of blond hair most likely belonged to the King's son that they were talking of betrothing Sansa to. Though as soon as Alysanne got a glimpse of the arrogant smirk on his face, she knew the soft hearted Sansa was getting herself into a hell of a troubled marriage with this man. 

"So you're thinking what I'm thinking." Robb had leaned forward to discreetly whisper the words in Alysanne's ear as the both watched him smirk at Sansa, who softly smiled back. 

Alysanne turned around to face the boy she'd been betrothed to for almost ten years. "That he's a right royal prick and an arsehole?" 

Robb nodded darkly. "I don't like this." He muttered as the red and gold carriage most likely transporting the queen, Cersei Lannister stopped before them and the King emerged on his horse right behind it. 

As soon as they saw him, everyone, including Ned and Cat, dropped to one knee on the dusty ground, kneeling before the king, despite how fat and red he looked to Alysanne. When she lifted her head slightly, Alysanne could see the white horse's hooves stop a few feet away from them, and two squire boys hurry forward with a stool that would help the king get off his horse. 

As soon as she saw those expensive boots hit the ground, she did not let them out of her sight as the king marched towards them in an determined fashion, slightly grunting every few steps. 

Alysanne had heard stories of King Robert's rebellion in her lesson as a young girl, how he had killed Rhaegar Targaryen at the Battle of the Trident for abducting his betrothed, Lyanna Stark, Ned Stark's sister and rebelled against the Targaryen rule. This man did not look like the Robert Baratheon from the stories. He was red faced, fat and slow, such you would expect from a rich lord who had never seen the battlefield, not from the King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

He stopped before Ned, taking one look at his old friend before gesturing for him to get up. Once Ned Stark had risen, so did the rest of them, despite Alysanne having been looking up at the King for a few minutes now and not at the ground like she was supposed to. "Your Grace." Ned greeted, lowering his head out of respect. 

A few seconds of silence, during which the king looked at the man before him suspiciously. Then, "You got fat." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Alysanne could see Cat look away, semi-stunned by the comment, most likely. Ned, on the other hand, raised his eyebrows, looking at the king's protruding stomach without saying a word, yet his look said everything. 

Thankfully, the king then burst into an airy laughter. Both of them did as they embraced. 

Then the man turned to greet Catelyn. "Cat!" 

She smiled politely, "Your Grace," And seemed slightly thrown off and uncomfortable when he too, pulled her into a hug. He then ruffled Rickon's hair before moving back towards Ned. "Nine years...Why haven't I seen you?" He questioned sharply, "Where the hell have you been?"

Ned smiled. "Guarding the North for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours."

Behind King Robert, Alysanne saw the door of the carriage opening and one of the most beautifully cold woman she had ever seen stepped out of it. Long golden hair, sharp features and an unimpressed look, Cersei Lannister had it all as she walked down the stairs and onto Northern ground. 

Besides her, Arya turned to ask Sansa, quite loudly, "Where's the imp?"

The girl of thirteen blushed, furiously embarrassed. "Will you shut up?" 

Alysanne elbowed her to be quiet. 

"Who have we here?" Robert asked as he moved towards Robert and Alysanne. "You must be Robb." He concluded, getting one good look at the auburn haired boy. "And you," He smiled lazily at Alysanne, "You must be the youngest Tyrell girl." 

"Your Grace." She curtsied, wondering how in the Seven Kingdoms did the king know anything about her other than who she was to Robb. 

"My, you're a pretty one." He said to Sansa. 

He did have to bend down to talk to little Arya. "And your name is?" 

"Arya." She answered, rising on the tip of her toes to speak to him, Alysanne noted. 

"Ooh," He noted when standing in front of Bran. "Show us your muscles." To which Bran flexed his bicep. 

The king chuckled. "You'll be a soldier one day." 

Alysanne had to disagree at that. It was hard to imagine soft hearted, curious, Bran who liked to climb trees and the walls of Winterfell out on the battlefield. 

Besides her, Alysanne could see Arya craning her neck to get a good look at one of the soldiers who was moving to take off his golden helmet, probably a Lannister. And when he did, a mane of silky sandy hair tumbled free. "That's Jaime Lannister," Arya whispered next to her. "The Queen's twin brother." They did look alike, the queen and her brother. Both had strong features, jawline and cheekbones, defined lips and long blond hair

"Would you please, shut up?" Sansa ordered as the queen approached them. 

She looked imperious and snobbish as she advanced towards Lord Stark, taking in the sight of the grey skies of the Northern lands and imposing castle of Winterfell, no doubt comparing it to King's Landing, which in comparison, was much warmer and colorful than here. Though a queen should at least make an attempt to hide her disdain. When she held out her hand for Ned to kiss, it was with a small, condescending smile. 

"My queen." He said, and she only gave him a small, uncomfortable smile, like she would to a beggar in the street. She barely smiled when Catelyn gave the same greeting. 

Before anything else could be said, King Robert spoke up gruffly. "Take me to your crypts, I want to pay my respects." He directed his order to Ned. 

The queen did not seem pleased that her husband had ridden all this way to pay respect to a woman who had died seventeen years ago. "We've been riding for a month, my love." Her suggestion was only a carefully concealed reproach. "Surely the dead can wait." 

But the King's word was law. "Ned." He ignored his wife's words and instead nodded at Lord Stark, an order to take him to his crypts to pay respect to Lyanna Stark, the man's sister and Robert's betrothed. 

As the two walked away, Ayra looked up at Alysanne curiously. "Where's the imp?"

Both Sansa and Alysanne did not speak to answer, but the queen had certainly heard Arya's comment and she turned away, walking to her twin brother, Jamie, who until then had been contently observing Alysanne through cat-like grey eyes. The girl only noticed the knight's eyes on her when the queen walked up to him.

"Where is our brother?" She asked him. "Go and find that little beast." She then ordered her twin.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Alysanne was convinced she had not seen a sumptuous feast like the one before her since she the day she had been brought to Winterfell by her mother, father and grandmother. A boar and two pigs had been slaughtered for the occasion, four barrels of wine had been brought up from the cellar just for the supper and the great hall was packed to the brim with not only the inhabitants of Winterfell, but some distinct friends of the Starks from neighboring towns. 

As per usual, she was seated besides Robb, alongside a couple of his friends in Winterfell, and his brothers while Arya and Sansa were seated at the table across from them. The queen, King, Catelyn and Ned were presiding the feast, sitting slightly above them on the dais. 

"Mhm," Robb said to her between two mouthfuls of chicken. "You should bring something to Jon. He must be starving outside."

She stilled, though he did not notice. She had not been alone in a room with Jon without anyone with them for a few months now. She had no idea what she would say to him, what she could possibly be allowed to say to him without putting her virtue in question. 

But her future husband had suggested doing something nice for the unlucky boy who'd been exiled to the stables simply for being a bastard in an attempt to not upset the royal family with his presence. On one hand, she did see why Catelyn thought to exclude Jon from the feast, but on the other, she thought the presence of a bastard could not possibly offend the King, since he was presently fondling a village woman's behind in front of his wife and the whole room. 

"I'll bring him some stew and chicken." She said to Robb finally, shoveling whatever was in the dishes in front of her into a spare plate. After making sure Catelyn would not notice her leave the feast, she pressed a chaste kiss to Robb's cheek and slipped out of the room through one of the small wooden side doors. 

It did not take her long to find the boy. 

Jon Snow had abandoned his sword in front of a straw dummy and was presently huddled in a dark space in the courtyard, talking lowly to his uncle, Benjen Stark, who by the looks of it, had just ridden into Winterfell. Alysanne guessed as much judging by the sloppily tied reins of his horse and the packed bag still on the tired animal's back. 

Uncle Benjen looked calm, yet slightly worried, and Jon, from what Alysanne could gather by his twitching and tensing, was antsy and hurried. It did not take an expert for Alysanne to realize Jon was pestering his uncle about the Night Guard again. 

Lord Stark's second brother was the first to notice her holding the warm plate out of the two. He looked at her, then back at Jon, saying something to him that Alysanne could not have heard even if she strained her ears. Then, with a pat on the boy's shoulder, he walked away, but not before lowering his head to greet Robb Stark's betrothed. 

"Good morrow, Alysanne." Then, he was gone. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

"The Wall isn't going anywhere." 

Jon protested at his uncle's suggestion that he wasn't yet ready to leave Winterfell. "I'm ready to swear your oath."

Benjen Stark looked away for a moment, as if he'd seen someone exit the castle. "You don't understand what you'd be giving up." He said finally to the boy. "We have no families. None of us will ever father sons."

Jon shook his head. "I don't care about that." He was lying, of course he was. 

Benjen looked away again, this time he'd definitely seen something, or rather someone. "You might, if you knew what it meant." He nodded his head at the boy, indicating that he should turn around to see what he was looking at. 

Jon turned around sharply, irritated that his uncle was yet again trying to dissuade him by implying he was too young and too naive to know what he was getting into. Though he stilled immediately once he realized who, not what, he was looking at. 

There she stood, in the pale moonlight, curly brown hair falling in soft ringlets and a loose half braid. Her usually blue eyes, shone grey and wide thanks to the greyish light the moon above their heads was shining on her own head, like a halo for an angle. In that moment, Jon swore none of the stories he had heard of the beauty of warrior princesses such as Princess Nymeria or goddesses like Mother Rhoyne could compare to how beautiful Alysanne Tyrell looked in the moonlight.    

He was too busy gawking at her to hear Uncle Benjen greet the young girl before walking towards the inside of the castle, but not before one good slap on the shoulder that prompted him to close his mouth shut. It felt oddly dry. 

They stood like that, both of them, Jon staring at her and Alysanne hesitantly shuffling on her two feet, unsure of what to do or say. 

Finally, she spoke, but not before handing him the plate of food that was most likely the cause of her being here in the first place. "I take it you're going through with your decision to leave Winterfell." 

He sighed sadly, embarrassed at what she was suggesting. "Don't be like that, Aly." He said, too harshly for his taste. "You know I have to leave." 

The girl frowned. She may have succeeded him by two years, but she was as smart as a whip and she knew much more than him. "Do you truly not think me capable of understanding why you wish to leave?"

"Then don't make this any harder than it has to be!" He regretted yelling as soon as he saw her jump in surprise and drop the goblet of wine she'd carried out for him. It fell to the ground with a metallic clang, wine spilling over the ground and on the the front of her grey dress. 

A look of fury crossed her face, the same one he'd seen in this same barn, ten years earlier, when she'd yelled at him for calling her annoying. She kicked the goblet at her feet in a fit of rage and just as her mouth opened, no doubt to let loose a few colourful choice words in his direction, something unexpected happened. 

"Are you sure it is wise to yell at the man you love while your husband is having dinner just a few doors away?" 

Jon turned around sharply, only to be met with Tyrion Lannister's all knowing smirk. He was holding one of the same goblets of wine that Alysanne had just spilled, and Jon cursed himself for not noticing him earlier, standing next to a bay of hay, concealed easily to one stupid man who would simply just glance over his small stature. 

"What are you doing back there?" He questioned angrily. 

The man just took a sip of his wine, ignoring Jon and turning to look at Alysanne, who'd bend down to pick up the goblet she had dropped. "Do continue to yell at him. Though it would be wiser to not do it in a courtyard where an indiscreet ear could hear it all."

"You're Tyrion Lannister," Jon pointed out once the man stepped into the illuminating stream of moonlight. "The queen's brother?" 

"My greatest accomplishment." The man they called 'The Imp' said sullenly. "And you," He looked up at Jon, slurring his words. "You're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?"

Jon flinched at the insult, turning to walk away. "Did I offend you? Sorry." Tyrion's insincere words brought him to a halt. 

He turned around, as Tyrion approached him. "You are the bastard though." 

The queen's younger brother turned to look at Alysanne. "You must be the Tyrell girl." Alysanne nodded, because all the anger and things she wanted to say had been knocked out of her when the man had made his presence known. "I've seen your brother, Ser Loras at court. A fine knight, I'm sure."

Alysanne had not heard of her family in years. The idea, no the truth, that some people saw her brothers and sister regularly hurt to hear. 

"Tyrells do make good knights." She said to Lord Tyrion, because she knew not of what else she could possibly say to make this already horrible situation worse. 

The man smiled, just slightly. "Go back to the dining hall, girl. I swear I will not speak a word of what I saw today" 

Alysanne nodded, then looked at Jon, hoping he would say something, just anything to end this evening off on a semi-good note. She foolishly hoped he would say something to retract his previous harsh words, but he didn't, he only looked away. 

There was a beat of silence, during which Alysanne barely lingered before she decided to walk away and back to the warmth of the castle. Once she was out of earsight, Tyrion turned to look at Jon. 

"I do believe your little plan to be a complete arse to her has worked." 

Jon frowned sadly. "I don't want her getting attached."

"Then, you're an idiot." The older man's words only served to anger Jon more. "If you did not want her to get attached, you should have pushed her away when you first had the chance. Now it is too late."

He began to walk away, "Do not think that this isn't as much your fault as it is hers." 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

First ep is done! The only issues I have with this chapter is because the episode is so long and I wanted to fit it all into one chapter, I had a tough time talking about the characters' feelings, so I hope I at least did a decent job with this. I should be getting more into descriptive writing in the next few chapters, as Robb and therefore Alysanne's appearances in a lot of season 1 are minor.