( ACT 2: chapter 3 )
𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚂, 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙳𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂
a 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 chapter

"Rickon, put that bread down, it's for supper!" The curly haired Stark boy immediately drew his hand back from the loaf of bread he was prepared to bite into at the sound of Alysanne's voice reprimanding him. 

He frowned when he looked back and found the brown haired girl staring at him from where she was sitting at one of the tables of Winterfell's kitchens. "But I'm hungry!" He said stubbornly, in an attempt to ignore his future good sister's command, reaching for the loaf again with a petulant pout on his lips. 

When she saw him reaching for the bread again, Alysanne stood up, her silver northern dress brushing against the stone floors as she hastily walked to where Rickon was standing, perched on a table and a chair that he'd piled up to reach the bread, which his mother had stowed away safely, knowing he'd come sniff it out. "Dinner is too soon to eat, sweet boy, you will eat then." She said firmly, though the whole ordeal was slightly comical. 

She extended a hand out for him to take so he could get down easily rather than balancing himself on that poorly placed chair which could very well fall with him on it since it did not appear to be very stable. "Come Rickon, take my hand." 

The boy surveyed the loaf of bread, then turned his gaze to the un-bandaged hand that Alysanne had presented to him. "Fine." He declared with the finality of a boy of six that only he could muster. 

Though just as he readied his small hand to grasp Alysanne's uninjured one, he leaned too close to the side, and the chair that had so far successfully supported the boy's weight suddenly lurched to the side, causing the boy to begin falling with her. 

Immediately, at the sound of Rickon's gasp as he missed the hand she had extended to him, Alysanne instinctively raised both hands above her head, hoping to catch the boy if he was to stumble and fall. And fall he did, two of the fragile feet of the chair suddenly giving way, causing Rickon to immediately slip as he was thrown from the safety of the chair and towards Alysanne.

Unable to control his fall, the boy could not control the way his body violently collided against Alysanne's, his shoulders slamming into her chin as his hands immediately searched for a fulcrum. Which is why he also could not control his hands, who upon finding support on the girl's collarbone could not help but press against her chest as the weight of falling against the girl brought him down once more, his fingernails digging into the bandaged wound which had begun to bleed again at the strain of catching Rickon. 

As soon as the pain begun to register to the girl, she hissed in pain, flinching at the sensation of Rickon's grimy nails digging into the wound which had yet to begin fully healing despite the numerous days which had gone by since the attack. "Ow!" She could not help but exclaim, despite Rickon immediately trying to remove his hands. 

The boy sobbed at the girl's pained expression and the few tears which she wasn't able to prevent from slipping. "Sorry, Aly!" He cried, shimmying down so both feet were on the ground. "Are you alright?" He squeezed her uninjured hand as she worked to steady herself. 

Alysanne could tell the boy was stressed, so she shot him a reassuring smile. "Don't you worry," She ruffled his hair, her hand then encompassing his cheek as she squeezed it slightly. "I'm quite alright."

Just as the boy was about to apologize once more, the door of the kitchens swung upon to reveal a worried Robb Stark, who'd no doubt rushed to the scene at the sound of the chair hitting the ground and breaking into pieces. "Alysanne?" The boy had not been sleeping well since Bran's attack, and it was starting to show itself on his boyish face, which was now starting to hold all the bearings of a young man. "What are you doing up? You should be resting." 

His eyes raked over Alysanne's figure, stopping on the bandaged wound across her chest, which was now oozing with blood from the impact of Rickon's fingers. He sighed, and guilt immediately blossomed in Alysanne's heart for making him worry. He already had enough to worry about, as now Lord of Winterfell in his father's absence, but also having to have stepped into the role of his mother as Lady of Winterfell while Alysanne had been injured and unconscious. 

Apologies she wished to proclaim profusely died on her lips when Robb turned his frustration to the boy of six that was hiding in the folds of Alysanne's dress. "Rickon, I've told you not to come bother Alysanne, she needs to rest." 

"But she tells the best stories, brother!" Rickon's spirited defense bubbled forth, his genuine enthusiasm tugging at Alysanne's heartstrings.

At his words, Alysanne smiled. "You like my stories from the South, eh?" 

However, Robb's lingering dissatisfaction was palpable, casting a shadow over the moment. Alysanne was swift to address him, her tone soft. "Truly, Robb," she emphasized, her gaze meeting his, conveying the sincerity of her words. "I am well, as I assure you."

Inquiry still etched across his features, Robb probed further. "What were you both doing in the kitchens, then?"

Rickon piped up with youthful honesty, his excitement contagious. "Bran asked us to bring him some bread!"

Robb's skepticism cast a knowing look toward Alysanne. "Is that so?"

Alysanne's tone took on a teasing edge, though her affection was evident. "Rickon Stark, you little fibber," she chided, a playful glint in her eyes. "If my mother were here, she'd likely wash your mouth with soap for such tales."

Though endeared by the scene unfolding between his betrothed and his younger brother, Robb was the one to redirect their conversation to serious matters, a bittersweet reminder of the role he now bared. "I'm going to check on Bran." He told Rickon, eying the loaf of bread on the shelf that had fallen just like Rickon though it had ended up on the table, luckily. "You can give that loaf of bread to Alysanne, she'll bring it to him." 

Rickon's youthful curiosity wasn't easily quelled. "Can't I go myself?" he questioned, his desire to see his brother evident in his pleading eyes.

Robb's response, while gentle, carried a hint of authority. "You'll have the chance to see Bran in the morning. Come along now."

Rickon's gaze shifted towards Alysanne, seeking a silent permission that lingered in the air.

In response, Alysanne offered a subtle nod towards the loaf of bread, her unspoken encouragement carrying in the gesture.

As he gave it to her, and her and Robb began to walk away, Alysanne's fingers subtly tore off a fragment of the bread, offering it to the young boy with a conspiratorial smile. Rickon's delight was met with a playful hush from Alysanne, before she followed Robb towards Bran's room.  

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Their steps echoed through Winterfell's corridors as they made their way towards Bran's chambers. The physical discomfort Alysanne concealed wasn't lost on Robb, his observant gaze catching her wince with each step, the bandaged wound on her chest still oozing slightly. A task for later, he noted internally, planning to help her tend to the wound's care once they were done with their current errand.

Robb, seeking to shift her focus, extended his arm for Alysanne to take, a subtle gesture of support, but it did not go unnoticed by his betrothed, who accepted his arm gladly. He then playfully interjected, attempting to ease the atmosphere with a touch of humor. "He likes you more than me, you know?" he mused, referring to their earlier interaction with Rickon.

Alysanne's laughter, a melody of disbelief and amusement, filled the air. "He absolutely does not, Robb."

With a glint of mischief in his eyes, Robb persisted. "Oh, believe me, I truly think he does. He listens to you more than he listens to our own mother."

Alysanne blushed at the high compliment. "Now you're just exaggerating." She tried to wave off, though Robb was sure that Rickon's affection for her meant a lot to the girl, whether she would admit it or not yet. 

"I promise you I am not." He assured her as they reached the door to Bran's room, his bedchamber half a turn above Rickon's in one of the towers at Winterfell.

Robb gently pushed the wooden door open, allowing for both him and Alysanne to slip into the room where they were greeted by the sight of Bran, wide awake albeit a little terrified, and Old Nan, sitting vigil over him as she knitted. 

At the sound of the door opening, Bran flinched, while Old Nan simply looked up at the pair she'd had the pleasure of watching over since they had themselves been younger than Bran. 

Robb smiled at Bran's slightly scared expression. "What are you telling him now?" He teased gently. 

"Only what the little lord wants to hear." The old woman replied, casting aside her needlework. 

"Get your supper." Robb instructed. "I want some time with him." 

Not one to disobey any order, no matter who they were given by, it did not take much for Old Nan to cast aside her needlework and hobble towards the door, Alysanne casting a warm smile to the woman who'd nursed her multiple times in her first few years as she kept falling sick to the weather she was no yet used to. 

The door closed, and Robb turned towards Bran. "When we were eight, she told Alysanne and I that the sky is blue because we live in the eye of a blue eyed giant named Macumber." 

Alysanne smiled softly at the memory of her, Jon and Robb sitting at the dinner table with Old Nan on one of the nights both Ned and Lady Catelyn had been out of Winterfell for business. 

Bran shrugged, unmoved by this story. "Maybe we do."

"How do you feel?" Alysanne noticed the boy was shivering only slightly, so she headed to the wardrobe to extract one of the many furs Lady Catelyn had left for him in case he grew cold while Robb pressed him for answers. 

"You still don't remember anything, Bran?" Alysanne tried to press slightly as she laid the new layer of fur over Bran's form. "Can't you recall how you fell?" 

"Bran..." Robb started, catching the boy's attention as he turned away from Alysanne to look at his brother. "I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain...a thousand times. You never fall." 

"I did, though." 

Robb glanced at Alysanne slightly, the girl signaling for him that they should stop pressing him. Perhaps try another day. 

"It's true, isn't it?" Bran suddenly piped up sadly. "What Maester Luwin says about my legs." 

Robb stared down at Bran's unmoving legs bellow all the layers of fur before nodding slightly, his jaw clenched with anger at the fate his brother was now reduced to all because of one simple accident. 

"I'd rather be dead." Bran then declared stubbornly, prompting Robb's pale eyes to snap back towards his brother's. 

"Don't ever say that." He harshly stated. 

But Bran was not so easily convinced. "I'd rather, be dead." He repeated, his eyes glazing over from Robb's anger filled ones to Alysanne's sad ones before they went back to stare at his unmoving feet below the covers. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Robb closed the door to Bran's chamber, the young boy's pessimism indicating that he'd rather be left alone than forced to endure another's company, and once more offered his arm to Alysanne that she could lean on as they began to walk down the steps of the tower and back towards the principal corridors of Winterfell. 

They had barely made it down the steps that Alysanne was keeling over, her bandages now soaked through with blood. 

"Come with me." Robb urged, despite Alysanne trying to regain her composure and pretend everything was fine. "You need to change your bandage."

Before she could protest, Robb was leading her along the hall, more carrying her than supporting her, though she did not necessarily mind. His rooms were the closest to where they stood, so, in her weakened state, Alysanne surrendered to his guidance, his presence both grounding and reassuring. Each step blurred into the next, her consciousness clouded by pain as they entered his chambers.

As Robb gently guided her towards the bed, Alysanne's gaze remained fixed on his face, her trust in his care unwavering. "May I?" He gestured to her dress, which was now only narrowly avoiding being stained by the blood oozing from her open wound. 

She nodded, her throat suddenly very dry as she reached a hand up to sweep her brown reddish hair over her shoulder to make the task easier for him. His fingers worked with deftness and care, as he unbuttoned the back off her dress, lowering it slightly down her chest so he could see the wound and bandages in their entirety. 

Alysanne shivered when the cold air hit her bare back, though she shivered more when Robb's deft fingers accidentally brushed over the center of her back, her shoulder instantly straightening. She ran her tongue along her lip, trying to focus her gaze on the basin of warm water that had somehow appeared on the table closest to them as he gently unwrapped the stained bandages, his touch acting as a paradox of gentleness against the backdrop of her pain.

Her breaths were uneven, a mixture of pain and the effort to maintain her composure, to convince herself that this moment was fleeting.

His nose was now so close that the brown strands of her hair could now tickle it, and she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning across her cheeks as he concentrated in order to gently peel off the soaked bandages without making her wince. Though she could not help but, half her chest bare for him to see and the cold air slipping through the bottom of the wooden door making her shiver. 

The touch of fresh bandages against her skin snapped her back to the present, the coolness a stark contrast against the heat that seemed to simmer in the air. Their eyes met once again, lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a silent exchange of emotions that words could never encapsulate.

"Thank you," Alysanne's voice was soft, the gratitude genuine but layered with unspoken emotions that lingered like the echo of a song or remained hovering above them like the mist emanating from the boiling basin of water.

Robb's gaze remained fixed on her, his fingers gently securing the new bandages in place. His reply was a mere breath, a whisper that held a depth of feeling he wasn't ready to fully unravel. "Always, Alysanne."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The following days, on one of the rare tranquil mornings, Alysanne found herself overseeing Rickon's lessons with Maester Luwin, her keen eyes attentive to the young Stark's progress. 

Ever since Bran's accident, Rickon had been stuck to Alysanne like a baby wolf to its mother in the hours following its birth. The boy wished to always be with Alysanne, falling asleep with her in his chambers under the fascinating lull of her stories from the South, toddling across the hall to awake her in her chambers as soon as he woke up in his own. But it was not only that, for the boy was now too anxious to be alone that Alysanne had resorted to taking him everywhere with her while she tended to her duties as Lady of Winterfell in Catelyn's absence, which also meant accompanying the boy to his lessons, which he'd have refused to attend if she had not been there. 

As her gaze flitted between the boy and his tutor, a flicker of movement at the castle's gates caught her attention.

Alysanne's gaze shifted, and there, arriving from the North, were visitors.

"Wait here," She instructed Rickon, who'd been stuck on one of the many House sigils and words that Maester Luwin was asking him to name. Alysanne got up, her eyes leaving the Kraken sigil of House Greyjoy to instead focus on the two men who were just about to cross into Winterfell. 

Gathering her dress, she got closer, ready to greet them as her role indicated she should. Though once she saw who was upon the horses walking into the courtyard, she began to grow increasingly nervous, unsure of how to now greet her visitors. 

"Lord Tyrion," she acknowledged with a courteous smile, her eyes meeting the enigmatic gaze of the small yet charismatic lord. There was, though, a hint of weariness to her tone as she surveyed the Lannister man from where he was perched on his horse. 

Lady Catelyn had left Winterfell to go warn her husband about the lions' doings, and yet here was one of them, walking right into the wolf's den. 

Tyrion, "the Imp of House Lannister", seemed not to notice the weariness in her tone and instead offered a charming response. "Ah, the lovely Lady Alysanne of House Tyrell. It is a pleasure to find you here."

"We were hoping to borrow one of your beds for the night, my Lady. We're journeying to King's Landing and the road is long." 

His companion spoke of their wearisome journey from the Wall to Winterfell, and their need for lodging. Alysanne extended her hospitality, as the lady of the castle was ought to do. "Of course, Lord Tyrion. I'll summon the Lord of Winterfell to receive you, while I arrange for your accommodations."

'Thank you, my lady." The companion expressed gratitude for her kindness, to which Alysanne replied with a modest humility. "I do only what the Lady of Winterfell would do." 

As their conversation continued, Tyrion's keen and observant eyes didn't fail to notice Alysanne's bandaged hand and the discreet bandages concealed beneath her Northern attire. His perceptive gaze lingered for a moment, noting the inconspicuous clues that hinted at a recent injury or ailment.

He most likely thought to mention it, yet did not, as before he could open his mouth to utter the words, Lady Alysanne had turned away and was already walking back to the castle, leaving them to dismount on their own. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

It did not take long to find the man she was set to marry, for Alysanne knew Robb would be where he'd been the past few days, locked up in his father's quarters studying the accounts with the help of the maesters. On more than one occasion, he'd been absent in the Great Hall to break fast with them or during supper and lunch, so Alysanne had begun bringing him portion of what they would have eaten, just like she used to do for Jon on formal occasions. 

Which is why it was no surprise to her when she opened the door to find the boy of seven and ten hunched over piles of papers, his fingers attempting to soothe the crease between his brows. 

 "I thought you'd be resting." Were the first words he addressed to Alysanne, knowing she had been the one to enter without needing to look up. 

Alysanne's pale eyes met his own dubious ones as he lifted his head when she did not answer, her own filled with that same weariness yet a hint of resolve. "Lord Tyrion Lannister is here, with a brother of the Knight's Watch," she replied, her voice carrying a note of seriousness.

Robb's brow furrowed at the mention of the Lannisters. "Lannister... What does he want now?" His mistrust of the House of the golden lions was palpable. 

Alysanne sighed, recognizing the tension in his tone. "Only our hospitality, which they are owed." She reminded him before he could act, choosing instead to set down a plate of the meal they'd had for lunch in front of him. "I shall go make their beds."

Robb's concern deepened, his protective instincts kicking in as he stood up from behind the table he'd been reviewing the accounts at, the plate of food long forgotten now. "The maids can do that," he argued. "You should be resting."

Alysanne turned around just as she'd begun walking away, walking back to him so they were now face to face, only inches apart. 

"It is not fair to you that I don't attend my duties if I can," she insisted, her voice gentle but resolute. "Besides, making a bed is not a strenuous task." She tried to laugh it off as a joke, but it did seem to land well with Robb. 

Before they could continue their discussion, a man of Winterfell entered the room, a reminder of the impending visitors. "My Lord, Lord Tyrion and his companion await."

Alysanne turned her attention to Robb, her eyes imploring him to be courteous. "Go, be courteous."

Robb's shoulders tensed, a flicker of frustration crossing his features as his shoulders hunched tiredly. "I shall do only what is expected of me." He then walked around the table, pushing his chair to the side in order to walk towards the door. 

"Robb," The boy turned around at the sound of Alysanne's gentle voice, calling him to a halt. "you don't know that they did anything." She reminded him. "Until then, they are owed a Lord's welcome." 

He did not answer, instead walked out of the room, leaving Alysanne to her own thoughts. 

"This will not end well." She whispered, to no one in particular save for the crows which had been circling the window ever since she had walked in. One had managed to land on the windowsill to stare at her with big beady black eyes as she picked up Robb's uneaten plate and walked out herself. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Alysanne had just received word that Lord Tyrion was preparing to depart from Winterfell's courtyard. With a sense of urgency, she made her way to the courtyard, where the Lannister lord was already atop his horse, seemingly ready to bid their home farewell. Theon Greyjoy stood before Tyrion, and from the looks of their conversation, it was clear that the Ironborn was not particularly pleased.

"Are you leaving, my Lord?" Alysanne inquired, her tone gracious and hospitable. "I have beds made for you."

Tyrion acknowledged her kindness with a wry smile. "You are kind, Lady Alysanne. Perhaps you should be the one to teach that future husband of yours the courtesies a Lord owes his visitors."

It seems Robb has not graced Tyrion Lannister with the hospitality a guest is owed, Alysanne realized bitterly. 

Alysanne's expression displayed curiosity and concern as she pressed further, "Will you not be staying here, then?"

Theon interjected, his tone carrying a hint of bitterness, "No, Aly, they'll be staying at the brothel outside these walls."

Alysanne's response was a simple "Oh," though her disapproval and slight embarrassment at the mention of such place as a brothel was evident.

Tyrion, ever the master of wit, thought another jab at Theon to be appropriate for the moment. "Come now, Greyjoy, only savage men talk about such crude things to noble women."

Clearly, Tyrion had said something to Theon before Alysanne's arrival to have him riled up like he proved to be. "Careful, imp." He warned, the threat he wished to put forth dying immediately as all of them knew the Greyjoy boy could do nothing without a Stark's command.  

Tyrion, of course, knew this quite well. "Do not fret, Greyjoy, I'm leaving, don't get your breaches in a knot." So he could not resist a parting jab at Theon, who appeared to be agitated as he turned around and stalked off towards the castle.

Once Theon was out of sight, Tyrion turned his back to Alysanne with a nod. "My Lady." At his farewell, she reciprocated his nod, anxious for him to leave so she could return to the inside of the castle and demand an explanation for what had taken place. 

And just as he was turning his horse around and towards the gates, the Lannister added with an air of casualness, "Oh, my apologies I forgot to mention." Her gaze snapped back towards him as he turned around. "Jon Snow asked me to pass along a message." 

Alysanne's interest piqued. Ever since Jon had left, all the events that had followed had kept her from being able to be alone with her own thoughts much, and a part of her mind had somehow managed to push thoughts of Jon further away from anything she could access. Perhaps it knew that if Alysanne Tyrell began to think of Jon Snow, she never would cease to. 

So, one could only imagine the tremors of her heart at suddenly receiving news form him. 

Alysanne did her best to keep her voice neutral, and polite, when she answered Lord Tyrion's remark. "He did? How is he fairing on at the Wall?" 

Tyrion's response was laden with cynicism. "He'll manage, if he doesn't get killed by all those rapists, thieves, and murderers."

Alysanne could only offer another "Oh." in response.

Tyrion seemed to soften as he continued. "You're right, so crude of me to talk of such things in front of a Lady." Though he was surely being sarcastic, he paused briefly. "Jon Snow sends his well wishes to his brother, says he would be here if he could."

Alysanne listened to Tyrion's words with a conflicting emotions, her heart racing at the mention of Jon Snow. She had longed to hear from him, yet the reality of his message was not what she had hoped for. 

Stupid girl, she heard her Grandmother's voice sharp and reprimanding in her head, did you so foolishly believe he would ask of you? What a naive, stupid little lovesick fool you must be to allow yourself to think that. 

Her Grandmother was right. She was a lovesick, selfish fool to wish that Jon Snow would ask of her. 

Just as she readied herself to offer another carefully measured, lie-filled answer to Tyrion dismissing her own sentiments at news from Jon, he interjected before she could even ponder what she should say. 

"Spare me your lies, my Lady. I have no use for them and do not judge. That fool wishes to ask after you yet has somehow gotten it in his thick skull that it would be best for you if he did not." 

Alysanne could not answer to that, she only gave a slight nod.

"Farewell, Alysanne Tyrell. Your hospitality will be remembered. 

"Farewell, my Lord," Alysanne replied, watching as Tyrion Lannister rode out of Winterfell, Jon Snow now more than ever on her mind as she was left in the dust shaken up by the galloping away of Lannister's horse.

Olenna Tyrell's voice still echoed in her mind, criticizing her for allowing herself to hope for something that may never come to pass. Standing in the courtyard, now more than ever, Alysanne felt foolish and lovesick, yet she still could not bring herself to rebuff the feelings that had taken root in her heart and refused to leave.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and made her way back into Winterfell, her thoughts now plagued by Jon Snow. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

And another chapter done! This one was quite short but I did manage to squeeze in episode 3 and 4 of GOT which means season 1 is already almost halfway done ! 

I gotta admit, I'm really enjoying writing season 1, since not much happens in Winterfell during the first few episodes, it really allows me to include some non-canon scenes like Robb bandaging up Alysanne, or Rickon being cute with Alysanne :) 

Which brings me to my next question, I was thinking of including 2-3 scenes during season 1 of Jon at the Wall, because I figured his POV would be quite nice to have in regards to him thinking of Alysanne / worrying about her / having flashbacks of them as kids. Would y'all be interested in seeing this? 

I was thinking of including 2-3 scenes of Jon at the Wall for each season until / if he's not reunited with Alysanne. Let me know what you think. 

I don't have much else to say, season 1 is pretty simple to write in regards to Alysanne's character however I know it's gonna get so much harder when I have to start including the Frey so RIP me in advance lmao 

Thank you for reading, see you in the next chapter :)