“You wished to see me, my Lord?” enquired Thea as she took a seat in the empty chair opposite the long table in the Lord of Winterfell’s solar.

She avoided the spot where Lord Manderly tripped. Luckily for everyone, the man didn’t actually fall. Thea wasn’t sure if she could have helped him stand back up without the help of magic.
Funny how she already seemed to know that room like the back of her hand. The tattooed one and the scared one. Damn Umbridge and all her blasted kitten pictures.

“Yes I did, my Lady. Apologies for interrupting your morning.” nodded Lord Stark pulling her out of her strange and slightly murderous imagination.

“You didn’t interrupt, my Lord.”

The day was extremely muddy and rainy. Unfortunately for her and her friends, they had to cancel the horse trip they had scheduled. What a pity. Instead, Dacey and Alysane were with their mother, Wylla was helping her grandfather, and so far she hadn’t seen Alys.

“May I inquire what you wished to talk to me about?”

“I-”

For the first time since she knew him, she saw Lord Stark uncomfortable. The man played with his long bony fingers, moved documents around, shuffling papers as he sat as straight as he could. His lips were set in a thin line, his brow furrowed. if she didn’t know better she would say he looked afraid.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?”

He cleared his throat. The rain and wind howled outside.

“ I- Yes. Yes. I am sure you noticed my… dare I say distraction of these past few days.”

That was one way of putting it. She barely saw him for the last couple of days. And when she did he always seemed deep in thought. He barely paid attention to his children when they talked to him and asked more than once to repeat whatever they were saying to him.

“Yes, I did My Lord. Though I wouldn’t dare mention it. I don’t wish to intrude in your private affairs.”

“You are not my lady, I assure you.” he waved his hand, shooing away her worries. “Well then, on to the subject I suppose.” He paused. For some reason Thea dreaded this chat. “I have been talking to Lord Bolton lately. I suppose you know what I am talking about.” she nodded silently, “I didn’t make much of the matter at the moment, but later that same day, Lord Bolton brought it up again. Now I am no man for politics and tricks of the mind, I much prefer honesty. However, in this case I must confess that Lord Bolton’s words stayed in my mind…”

A heavy rock fell within her stomach. Had Lord Bolton noticed something amiss with her story? Was he trying to bring the matter to Lord Stark? Had he heard something, noticed something, suspected something? Was it something she had told Domeric? No. No, there was nothing suspicious with her conversations with Domeric. But then what? What would this strange eyed man have to say about her?”

“I am afraid I don’t know your meaning, my Lord.”

He looked her straight in the eyes.

“Marriage.”

Oh…

Her heart stopped. Her blood froze in her veins. Thunder rumbled outside, so loud it seemed to want to brust the very lands. Then the sky lightened up with the flashing strike of lightning. Thea shivered. Let it blow. Let it blow and take everything within. Let it show how utterly  furious she was.

How dare he. How dare he even think about broaching such a subject after the meeting the other day. Knowing what she told those lords. What it cost her. How. Dare. He.

Her blood ran a burning line of fire through her frozen veins, feeding the anger growing inside her. It roared through her ears, melded with the magic beating inside her, answering the call of her wrath. Something cracked in the air.

How could he. How dare he? Hadn’t she come here, to Westeros in this unknown world to gain the independence she oh so wished for? To escape what others mistakenly thought was best for her? And this man who knew her for so little time had the audacity to arm himself as God Almighty and decide something like that? For her? Marriage? He was nuts!

The tips of her fingers burned with the need to reach for her wand. She did just that. Her hand grabbing the familiar wood within the sleeve of her dress. She didn’t care that he saw her. In a second he wouldn’t remember a thing. Yes. Erasing his memory. Taking everything even vaguely related to that stupid, terrible idea. Curse him even, so every thought of marrying her to anyone would be met with pain.

She had the spell on the tip of her tongue...

It never occured to me before, an alliance between House Bolton and House Stark… But maybe it could be a satisfying option. Lord Domeric doesn’t seem to be a bad catch…” Oh how Domeric was wrong! “He may turn out to be a good husband for my Sansa.”

There was no way in Heaven or hell for her to-

…Wait what?! Who?!

Thea blinked once. Twice. She- He- Did she heard him correctly? She looked owlishly at Lord Stark’s impassive face, the dots slowly connecting inside her head.

“What?” she squeaked pitifully.

Her finger convulsed against the warm wood of her wand.

“Yes, I can guess quite easily what my lady must be thinking.” Lord Eddard continued oblivious to Thea’s confusion, “I confess I have never imagined marrying one of my girls to a Bolton. The gods only know the deepness of the quarrel opposite our families for what seems to be forever now. And I am fully trusting you in this confession…”

As blood rapidly fled her cheeks, Thea pretended to scratch her arms, as an excuse as to why she had stuck her fingers inside her sleeve so abruptly and awkwardly. Just as quickly her cheeks ignited with boiling blood. To think she had been this close to bewitch the poor man! What was wrong with her?! To consider cursing him so violently for something he hadn’t even done! All because her fears took control over her rationality.

She fought off the hysterical laughter stuck in her throat. Luckily she was the only one to know how embarrassing this whole situation had been. Lord Stark was by no means debating a possible marriage between The and Domeric. He was thinking of his daughter.
…
His daughter. Who was years younger than the Bolton heir.

“My Lord… Lady Sansa is…” she debated on the appropriate word to use, “she is still a child…”

“ I am aware of that fact, my lady.” snapped the Lord, “However there are even younger maidens already engaged, or even married. Babies in arms, or still in their mother’s wombs but still, already promised. I have never wished such a fate for my daughters. Or any of my children. But an alliance between our houses wouldn’t be a bad thing. The feuds and bloodshed between us, mayhaps matrimony is what we need to resolve the situation definitely. Roose’s son doesn’t seem like a bad catch from what I have seen these past few days. He appeared intelligent, honest, gentlemanly and kind.
And he had lived in the South of Westeros for a while. Sansa would like that.”

Lord Stark paused, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“I am…aware that she has not bled yet. Of course, the contract would stipulate a time limit. I will not tolerate anything less than my daughter being six and ten for her wedding day. I insist on this clause in the contract.”

Contract, Amalthea fought the repulsion she felt at the simple word, contracts dictate the lives of the noble and common folk here. Another oddity. Marriage contracts had been common back home of course, and in certain places they remained the main way to get married. But still…

“And, if it is not too bold of me to ask, would I inquire if such a contract had already been signed?” Did the people involved could even have a say in the way in which their destiny was going to be decided? “And why are you telling me this?”

Father crossed his hands in front of his chest.

“Nothing had been signed yet. The contract hasn’t even been written. There are no obligations or promises of any kind. I am telling you this Lady Amalthea because I need to ask a favor from you. You seem to have formed quite a few friendships among our guests. The Mormonts girls, and even Lord Domeric if I am not mistaken. You know him, saw him interact with other, pairs, ladies, even Sansa herself. The two of them have danced during the banquet and never in my life have I ever seen such a satisfied smile on Roose’s face. I wanted to ask if you think he would be a man who would treat my little girl well.”

Oh…ooh! Tricky question. A dangerous one with that, one she wasn’t sure she wished to answer.

“My Lord, I feel like you may be asking too much of me.”

“My Lady-”

“Wouldn’t it be better if the subject was to be discussed between you and your daughter.”

Ned was pensive.

“I should discuss this with my wife. But Catelyn would never agree, she wishes for a southern alliance for our Sansa.” he paused, “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something wrong?”

It was all it took for her to explode.

“Actually, Lord Stark, there is. I didn’t want to say anything to you for fear of offending you or your lady wife, nor did I want to get involved, but I have been here for a few months now due to your kindness and I’ve seen and heard things that make me extremely uncomfortable. The way your daughters are being teached , for example." The man's face morphed in shock. “I'm sure dear Septa Mordane has the best intentions in the world, I don't doubt that, but the way she teaches your daughters to me seems wrong and I often had to bite my tongue to keep from rebuke.”

"What do you mean?"

“She shows extreme favoritism when she teaches, toward Sansa and Jeyne especially. She rarely pays attention to little Arya and I know she feels bad about it. She is never good enough but Septa Mordane has not spent any time teaching her anything since I first joined them in their lessons.‘Your stitches aren't good enough, Lady Arya! Why you cannot be more like your sister, what beautiful stitches she makes with her nymph hands. If you weren't so weirdly wild, always playing in the mud and chasing the boys, you might be better’.” The imitation was poorly made at best but the message was sent. “Sansa and Jeyne find it funny. I don’t think they understand how hurtful these kind of words can be. I can not deny that Sansa is changing toward her sister. But Arya confessed to me being called “horseface” sometimes, when there is no one to scold the girls. From what she told me, when the subject was brought to Lady Stark she was completely ignored.”

Amalthea paused to breathe.

“Sansa is extremely focused and obsessed with the idea of the South and the stories she had been told about it since childhood. I am worried she might forget to live and enjoy the time she has with her family because of this perfect picture she has of the South. Her eagerness to get married and give her future husband an heir could cost her precious time with the family she has now.”

She paused again. Lord Stark was entirely focused on her.

“My Lord, your daughters are noble, yes. But they remain children. Arya is witty, dramatic and determined, but she still enjoy more gentle sides of life, like dancing with her brothers when no one is there to find faults in her steps. Sansa is a gentle soul, a porcelain doll who loves songs and embroidery. But she has a spark in her eyes, a fire waiting for an opportunity to consume her. I confess to you, here and now, that she seemed to sho interest in the handling of a bow and arrow, but she refused to try. The idea she had of a woman didn’t compute with the maniment of any weapon. And because Arya acted maliciously toward her. Something I made a point to scold her about, but the separation between the two is deep and their differences are made even deeper by this unfair favoritism.

With one last breath, she quickly added.

“And Jon! My Lord, the way he is treated because of his birth… this is disgusting.” she spat those last words.

“I-” Lord Stark swallowed, disturbed, “I had no idea this was how things looked from an outsider’s point of view, I-” the man sighed, resting his elbow on the table tiredly.

He rubbed his forehead, looking like he was chasing a bad headache. Thea looked down flushed with her outburst and embarrassment.

With one last sighed, and fell back against his chair.

“I am not a bad man my Lady.” he claimed softly, “But sometimes, sometimes I think I can be a bad father. For my girls.” she looked up in surprise, “don’t look at me like that, it is true. There are things about my daughters that I don’t know. Daughters are so different from sons. My Sansa is a little lady, like her mother. She always had been. My Arya is stubborn as a bull, playful, witty… like Ly-” his voice shook and stopped abruptly. “I do not know how to raise daughters. This is my wife’s duty and I-”

That was sad.

“My Lord, I don’t know what to tell you. I apologize for talking to you in such a way, I took my frustrations out on you. It wasn’t fair to you my Lord. But I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut anymore.”

Silence.

“Thank you, for bringing this to my attention. Catelyn wants a southern wedding for Sansa but I can not afford to do this.  Not after the offense my own father made toward the Northern lords. They may not have shown it, but they were deeply insulted by every wedding Lord Rickard Stark arranged for his children south of the Twins.     And the North remembers.”

He looked up, finally daring to find her eyes.

“Forgive me. Politics are not my strong point. I don’t even know how they weren’t offended by your harsh words the other night. The support of Lord Umber and Lady Momont was what helped you. But if I dare to try to marry my children, at least the oldest ones to a southerned I will never hear the end of it.  I can not afford such a thing. Robb and Sansa have to marry in the North.” he explained  sadly, “A marital alliance between the Stark and Boltons would be advantageous. But I will not force my girl into anything she doesn’t want. Which is why I request your help, my lady.”

“My help my Lord?”

“Would you talk to Sansa and try to find out if she would be willing for such a match?”

Me?! Why me?!

“Why me, my Lord? I am not sure that I am the right person for this task.”

“If I suggest it myself, I fear Sansa would say yes because she thinks this is her duty, and not because she wishes to do it. And if Catelyn is the one talking to her she will make her say no and I will never know if that was her choice or her mothers. I want to know her opinion. And I see the way Sansa looks at you. She admires you. And you seem to have the best wishes for my daughter’s future.”

“I-” Thea opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to refuse. But the despair bleeding through that man’s words stopped her.

“Alright. I consent to help you with this task.”

“You have my deepest thanks, my lady.”

“What about Jon?”

Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she shouldn’t intricate herself even more in the complications that surrounded the Starks. But she couldn’t remain silent, not since she started talking.

“ My Lord, he is unhappy here. He is looked down on by your wife and anyone else that could share her opinions. I understand her pain, my lord, but I will never understand or agree with the way she treats Jon.” she paused. “I wished to ask you something.”

Immediately she regretted that last bit.

“What is it?” enquired Lord Stark with a long suffering expression on his face.

“When Moat Cailin is rebuilt, I want Jon to join me as a member of my household.”

The man remained silent for a long time. Contemplating. He played with his long bony fingers, mumbling something to himself and Thea felt the tension build up in the air, only broken by the rain hitting the windows.

“If it is his decision, he will have my blessing.”

Her heart leapt in her chest and she bit back a smile threatening to slit her face in half. She restrained herself, confronted with Lord Stark’s falling countenance.  It mustn't be easy for the man to know that three of his children were in such complicated situations. So far from what he thought they were. Oh she dreaded for the day when Lady Catelyn would discover Thea’s involvement in all of this. She was going to be even more hated after that. Perhaps even thrown out of Winterfell for her trouble…Oh well, in this eventuality, at least she’d go with a clear conscience knowing it was for a good reason.

A while later, right before leaving, something clicked in her brain.

“Oh! I almost forgot! Here.” she fumbled through the fabric bag she had strapped to her slender waist, and pulled out the folded paper. “I am sorry for the state of it, I have never been gifted in the art of drawing.”

Stark blinked.

“And what is this?”

“A symbol of the Peverell House.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had already decided before."

"I did. But then I had this… dream and I just couldn’t get it out of my head. And with my new winged friend it feels… right.I'm sorry if there's any problem with the change."

He shook his head.

“Very well then.” he looked up, studying her with intense eyes. “As to the previous matter?”

“I’ll do my best my Lord,” she bowed on her way out of the room.

Thea spent the rest of the day lost in thoughts, so distracted she didn’t even hear the countless attempts her friends made to wake her up during dinner. The ladies, finally fed up with her lack of attention, made a catapult with the cutlery and a piece of black bread that ended up stuck in the middle of her forehead like some parody of the holy medicine.

"Ouch!"

Alysanne burst in a loud laugh, drawing the attention of the room to their table.

“Can we have your attention now?” questioned Alys amusement barely concealed.

“What’s even wrong with you? You are acting weird.”

“Even more than usual.”

“Alysane!” scold Dacey.

"What? It is true."

“Nothing. It must be this rainy day that puts me in a bad mood.” she denied, pulling out the piece of bread still stuck in the middle of her forehead. She winced at the berry jam gluing it to her skin. “Disgusting.”

Alysanne smiled brilliantly, full of pride in the success of her self assigned mission.

“Well, you better change that attitude because we will not put up with your moods.”

“You have jam on your forehead,” pointed Wylla helpfully with the tip of her fork.

“I hate you all. So much.”

The only answer she got for her trouble was the tinkling laugh of little Rickon sitting beside her. He cupped her face in his little hands and promptly licked her forehead.

“Rickon!” protested Sansa on Thea’s other side. Jeyne next to her, gasps in indignation.

The little boy hummed in appreciation. “This is good!” he claimed loudly. That kid seemed to become wilder by the day recently.

Thea suspected it was because of the growing lack of time his mother had for him, leaving him more often than not on his own device. She understood the need Lady Catelyn had to portray herself as a good hostess for her guests. But it didn’t mean she approved.

Maybe she should have mentioned that to Lord Stark too…

"You are my favorite Stark, did you know that little lord?" Dacey’s melodic laugh resonated around them, eclipsing the others. “Here, take all the jam. You deserved it!”

“Thank you, Rickon,” Thea laughed naturally. She discreetly wiped the sticky drool from her skin as Sansa chided her little brother who was completely ignoring her.

Children. At least that served to ease her thoughts. Now how to mention what she wanted…?

“Any idea if it'll rain tomorrow too?” asked Alys between bites.

Wylla shrugged, sipped her wine and thoughtfully examined the ends of a lock of green hair who apparently according to Alysanne was fading to reveal the blond strands underneath.

“I’m not sure. Maybe. Maybe not, you know how unpredictable the northern weather is. Though I think we will have summer snow soon.”

“Ugh the rain ruined all our plans!”

“What were you going to do today anyway?” enquired Jeyne curiously.

Thea didn’t really know what to think of that girl. She was nice enough when she wished to be -especially around them for there seemed to be some kind of admiration on her part, oddly coupled with a disapprobation to some of their antics, mainly Wylla’s hair for “as colorful and beautiful as it is my lady what would your future husband think?!”- but she had been pretty mean to Arya on more than one occasion. Though if she wanted to work on Sansa, the witch knew she had to make an effort to work with Jeyne too.

"We were going on a ride."

"Oh I see."

"We will have to leave it for tomorrow."

“Oh will you? And how is it that you wonderful ladies never think to invite these humble and beautiful gentlemen to join you in your… adventures?” interrupted Theon.

The Greyjoy boy was sitting at the table closest to theirs, next to Jon, Robb and Bran and, to Thea’s astonishment, Domeric Bolton and his brother. And Alys’s brothers, Thea noticed as an afterthought. Okay then. Apparently none of the boys used the high table anymore and their seats had been taken by several lords and ladies buzzing around the Stark parents.

“Were you listening to our entire conversation?” accused Alys with a fierce glare at her sheepish brothers.

“ ‘tis not our fault you ladies speak loud enough to be heard from the other side of the room.” defended Theon bravely.

Alysanne threw another piece of bread -seriously what was her problem with the damn bread?!-  in the Greyjoy’s direction. He swerved away in a joyous laugh and the poor piece of food lost itself within Robb’s fiery curls. The frowning Stark boy tossed away the offending projectile and carried on with his brooding mood. For some strange reason Robb hadn’t stopped frowing for days now. Thea, to be honest, didn’t even bother trying to figure out why he was acting like that. He had looked coldly at her the sole time she tried to question him. All red hair were the same apparently. Ron had had so many mood swings over the course of their friendship she was still surprised just remembering the numbers.

“Dear lady Mormont, you have an awfully bad aim, did you know that? Maybe I could be of assistance?”

“I think if anything, I would be the one teaching you things, kraken. Like how to meet your drowned god sooner than expected if you can’t stop listening to private conversations.”

Theon’s smile disappeared, and returned the cold stare with a freezing one of his own.

“You don’t know how to appreciate a joke.”

“Forgive the interruptions my ladies.” apologized Domeric Bolton.

No one else in their table bothered with a word.

To say the entire situation wasn’t intensely embarrassing would have been a big ugly lie. It really was, at least for Thea. She had to sit next to Sansa, so close to Domeric without the two of them having any clue of what would soon happen to them. Or, at least, Sansa had no clue. She wasn’t certain about Domeric.
As people around them resumed their conversations, Thea filled her lungs with air and focused her attention on Sansa.

“Actually,” she started awkwardly, “I was thinking of visiting the hot springs tomorrow, if the weather permits it of course. Your brother mentioned them when I first arrived and I haven’t had the occasion to see them yet. And, as Wylla said, if the summer snow comes I might not have this chance again. Would you care to join me lady Sansa?”

Merlin, could she be more obvious?

The little redhead looked confused. She spared a glance at Arya across the table right next to Alysanne almost wary of her sister’s potential reaction. Thea understood, as she was quite certain that if wild Arya hadn’t been so engrossed with what the Mormont girl was telling (something about childhood and hunting a bear with Dacey) would demand to know why she wasn’t also invited.

“Swim? Isn’t that… dangerous for us to go so far in the woods?”

“We could swim. Or just enjoy the view. We don’t have to actually go in the water. I would merely ask for  your company, if you want you can even bring one of your many sewing works I wouldn’t mind.” she added after a moment of reflection “You only have classes in the morning if I am not mistaken?”

“Why yes but-”

“I need to discuss something with you my lady.” confessed Thea. It was better  to get straight to the point.

Now the girl looked worried.

“Is everything alright my lady?”

“Yes, yes of course. But I still need to have that discussion. Preferably alone.”

Sansa contemplated her demand for a moment.

“Can Jeyne come too?” the girl bounced slightly, as if pinched by something. Her friend is no doubt.

…Apparently alone didn’t mean the same thing for everyone.

“I-” Should she have that conversation with Jeyne here too? They both looked pleading. And attached to the hip. Very well then. “ Yes you can. You are welcome to come along, lady Jeyne.”

"Thank you, Lady Peverell." The Poole girl smiled brightly, but she also looked curious.

Thea nodded with a finality she wasn’t sure how to feel about.

“Tomorrow then. If the gods are good.”

And I am sure I’ll have a fantastic night thinking about it… she added mentally with a grim set on her face.

As expected, Amalthea spent the majority of the night thinking about her mission and how she was supposed to work this all out. Should she be blund and go straight to business? Wait for the best moment? What if the girl cried? What if she screamed, kicked, threw a tantrum?  Oh she prayed this peculiar scenario wouldn’t happen. Sansa was too well-taught to actually throw a tantrum of modern-spoiled-like-a-Malfoy- child proportions, but the possibility was still there. Gods, why did Lord Stark have to throw her in such a sticky situation?! She could get why he did it. But why?!

Anyway. She didn’t sleep a wink. Instead she used the stone. 
In the morning, when she caught up with Sansa and Jeyne, she was glad the two of them were polite enough not to mention the circle under her eyes.
They were followed closely by the familiar silhouette of Markus the guard who had taken her to Lord Stark when she first arrived at Winterfell with Kreacher. Sansa explained his presence as a condition from her Lord Father when he heard about their schedule of the day. Thea was glad for the man’s thinking. With only her dagger satcher to her thigh she was suddenly confronted with how little she would be able to defend herself in case of a highly improbable attack. The little fit of paranoïa kicked her awake more efficiently than any cup of coffee would have. There was very little probability that the guard would actually be needed but to have him here was still good.

It didn't take them long to enter the Godswood in the midst of small talk.

“I don’t quite remember when was the last time I swam in the springs.” confessed Sansa softly, “We used to go there together all the time when we were children. This is where Mother taught us all to swim. I don’t think I’ve been there since Rickon’s birth.” She had a small smile on her face, as she made her way through the trees, bushes and fallen dry branches.

“That sounds entertaining.” smiled Thea, “The land around the house of one of my best friends had a pretty big lake. The best time of the year was when we could get together and simply enjoy the water, the warmth of the sun and each other's presence.” her smile turned softer at the memory, “We tied a rope to a thick branch one time, from one of the trees at the edge of the lake. We used to make bets on who would go farther into the water swinging on the rope.”

“Do you miss it?”

"Very."

“So do I.” she confessed softly. Thea’s heart ached for the girl and the pain she suddenly seemed to carry in her blue eyes.

The witch had seen all the Stark children play with each other at some point since she arrived at Winterfell. But Sansa never really participated. Was it because it was against being the perfect little lady? The notion so intricate in her mind she no longer felt comfortable or free enough to even be with her siblings without having to be perfect all the time? Or maybe she’s reading too much stuff in this. Maybe she just isn’t into the same games as her siblings? There is nothing wrong with that. Hermione prefered books too. She was too mature for children’s games. Maybe Sansa was of the same type. Or maybe it’s her siblings who don’t identify with her anymore.

“Are we really going swimming today?” asked Jeyne doubtfully.

Thea shrugged.

“Why not? The day is mild, neither too hot nor too cold and from what I understand, the water in the springs is actually warm. Take advantage of the fact that you are not locked in a room with Septa Mordane.”
There was a second of silence, broken only by Markus’s muffed laugh. The guard had a kind, friendly smile under his brown beard, shaggy hair and crooked nose.

“She is quite boring sometimes,” confessed Sansa with a guilty little smile. She looked almost afraid of being overheard, as if someone would suddenly jump out of a bush and yell at her for the trouble.

“A little bit, yes.” agreed her friend with her own smile. “Not that much if you know how to deal with her though. We just have to listen to her and  follow her advice and orders, there is no reason for her to turn into a boring old woman.”

In this regard, it is better not to express my opinion.

"We are almost there, my Ladies." interrupted Markus."It is just ahead."

They didn't take long to arrive.

The hot springs were situated inside a mildly large cave. Or, well it looked mildly large from the outside. Markus went to check if no one was inside, as the girls watched him disappear within the darkness of the stones. Then he returned, with a nod of his head, calmly informing them  of the emptiness of the cave. He posted himself right outside, in an attempt to give them some kind of privacy.

They had to get down a little bit apparently, within a long corridor of uneven stones cut naturally to something that looked like stairs.

The inside was beautiful. One large pool separated into three smaller ones, all made of natural stones with a crystal-clear blue water as bright and shimmering as a thousand of tiny sapphires joined togethers. Soft white vapor exhaled on top of it, twisted in the air in pearly tones. The walls around it were dark and irregular, cavities here and there, with one wall covered in green and red moss showing above the water. She smiled as she remembered her younger eleven years old self and her doubts between stalactites and stalagmites. Hagrid, bless his pure half-giant heart, had explained the difference in the M. Surprisingly the water wasn’t reflecting anything beyond the blue of its own colors.

"It's beautiful." Amalthea exhaled, stunned.

“Yes. It truly is.” confirmed Jeyne dreamily.

Thea was already sweating profusely in her dress, riding breeches and boots. She didn’t want to imagine what the girls were feeling in their heavy furred cloak and their sheep wooled dresses.

“It’s been so long…” sighed Sansa sadly.

“I've never been here before.” confessed Jeyne.

“Neither did I.” laughed Thea good naturedly. “Shall we?”

Without further ado, without being intimidated, she descended the few remaining natural stoned stairs, and quickly undressed.

"What are you doing?" gasped Jeyne, shocked.

Thea raised an eyebrow.

“I am going to enter the water… what does it look like?”

Jeyne blushed furiously.

“Do we have to undress?!”

“Well unless you want to wet your beautiful dress, that would be the wisest course of action.”

She had to repress a laugh, knowing that embarrassment was different for everyone and she coudln’t know what triggered it in Jeyne. She had been like that once upon a time after all.

“If you are wearing underclothes you can keep them if it makes you more comfortable.”

Jeyne blushed furiously but nodded and slowly began to remove her own clothes, following Sansa’s lead. Thea turned away, sparing them the little modesty they could have in such a place. With no underclothes, Thea didn’t spare a minute to jump in the deliciously warm water.
She sank down to her chin with a delighted shiver down her spine and savored the slow disappearance of the tension in her shoulders and neck. Her eyes closed, she barely felt the water move. When she looked up again both girls were in the pool, each in a corner as far as possible from each other, and from Thea, their underclothes soaked through.

"I should have visited this place a long time ago." commented Thea airily.

She brushed the wet hair out of her eyes, the long locks floating around her like a dark inky stain in the clear water. The younger girls slowly let go of their shyness as they slowly dared to swarm around in the pool. Jeyne struggled significantly more than her friend, obviously unused to such a situation.

“When we were younger we used to jump off that rock over there.” commented Sansa, pointing to a boulder, more protruding rock opposite to where she was currently soaking. “once, Robb sneaked up behind me and jumped into the water with me in his arms. I tried to scream but he was laughing too hard to care. When he grew tired of it he simply put me over his shoulder and dived in again with me.”

“He is so beautiful,” sighed Jeyne dreamily.

“Jeyne!”

Jeyne giggled.

“I know, I know. But it’s true!”

After a pause, the brown haired girl tried again.

“He’s been in a bad mood these past few days. Have you noticed?”

Thea raised a brow. So she hadn’t been the only one to notice.

Sansa looked pensive.

“I don’t really know why.”

Jeyne hummed.

“He is still attractive, even when he doesn’t smile.”

“Jeyne!”

“What?! It’s true!” the girl sighed again, eyes on the wall.

Thea was conflicted. Why was that line of conversation bothering her? Was it because of the girl's age? She remembers Parvati and Lavender having the same kind of discussions back in Hogwarts when they were that age. Why would it be different?
Maybe she was just tired and easily moody? Maybe her periods were closer than expected? She was always in a bad mood during those.

“Oh Sansa you can’t deny it. Your brother is very handsome. Boths are. A shame Jon is a bastard.”

“Stop talking about my brothers Jeyne!” blushed the red haired beauty.

Thea blinked. Now that she thought about it, this was the perfect opportunity for a good old boy talk! How couldn’t she think of that before?

“There is an exceptional bunch of handsome lords these days in Winterfell.” she commented innocently, “ don’t you think lady Sansa?”

Jeyne didn’t need more encouragement, for, to Thea’s utter delight, she jumped right to the bone.

“Yes! Oh wasn’t it you Sansa who sang the praises of the “oh so handsome and noble Lord Domeric” not two days ago?!”

Sansa’s blush reached the color of her hair, much to her friend’s amusement.

“He is rather dashing…” approved Thea with a mischievous smile.

“Oh he- I mean I-”

“Actually,” she carried on, deaf to the girl’s sputtering, “this is exactly whom I wished to discuss with you.”

Sansa blinked.

“With me?”

Thea nodded.

“I saw you look at him the other day and I got curious. What do you think of Lord Domeric? Truly?”

The girl blushed confusedly.

“I don’t really know… why would you ask me?”

“Are you interested in him, lady Amalthea?”

Woops. Wrong turn. Aboart.

“No, not really, but I do have eyes.” she smiled mischievously.

Close call.

Jeyne humed pensively and Thea thanked all the deities she knew she agreed to have this girl around for this particular conversation. Boy talk was never her thing, and she was far too unfamiliar with Sansa to efficiently talk about that without sounding pushy or strange.

“Didn’t you say you would like to have the occasion to dance with him the other day Sansa?”

“I- what of it?”

“Do you like him?” teased the brown haired girl.

The girl bickered a moment and Thea took the opportunity as it was and observed the red haired reaction. From little she could gather, it seemed like Sansa wasn’t entirely indifferent to Domeric Bolton’s charm. Which was a good thing, if Lord Stark carried on with his plot to marry the two of them.

Still… How was she supposed to bring up the subject of marriage without being pushy? She had not been raised with the idea of arranged marriage! She hated the idea of arranged marriage! She didn’t know how this kind of thing was supposed to come along in a conversation.
Digging within her Gryffindor courage, Thea dared talk again.

“Could you marry him? If you had the chance?” to the girl’s surprised look, she quickly added, “Or would you carry on with the idea of marrying a southern lord?”

“I-”

“Oh that would be fantastic!” chirped Jeyne happily, “Imagine Sansa! You would be Lady Bolton! The Boltons are the second biggest family in the North!”

“I suppose…”

The conversation was turning into something opposite from what Thea wanted, so she tried to take control of it.

“But would you see yourself happy with him? As his wife?”

Sansa seemed to only grow more suspicious.

“Do you know something my Lady?”

Woops.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you… You’ve talked with Lord Domeric before.”

“Yes I have, indeed.”

“Has he… spoken of an interest in… courting lady Sansa?” enquired Jeyne.

“Not really. I was…I have been talking with Lord Domeric once or twice. He is nice enough and I can’t help but notice how… good you would look together. How well matched you two could be.” she stopped talking afraid of what else could come out of her babbling mouth.

Sansa looked pensive, and Jeyne nodded enthusiastically.

“And you would be Lady of the Dreadfort! Imagine Sansa!”

“I don’t think this should be your main motivation. Hypothetically speaking of course.”

Both girls blinked.

“If you were to be betrothed to someone like Domeric Bolton, you would spend the rest of your life with him. What is exterior beauty when you are to grow old with someone. Beauty fades. Some people can be as beautiful on the outside as they are monstrous on the inside.” like Lucius Malfoy, or Tom Riddle. “You are young, and I hope you will never have to understand how awful things can be despite their pretty exteriors. There is so much more in someone than their faces.”

Jeyne looked like she didn't believe her and definitely didn't agree, but she didn't talk again.

“I think I could be happy with him. Hypothetically.” confessed Sansa.

“Why do you think that? You don’t know him.”

“I don’t know him well. But he seems like a good man. And… I think I would like to know him better.”

Well that was a better mindset already.

“I am pleased to hear you say that. Lord Stark was worried you would feel obligated to answer if he asked you those things.”

Thea fell back on the water, missing the frozen expression on both Sansa and Jeyne's faces. With her goal accomplished, she allowed herself to relax in the water. The following thirty minutes were quiet and peaceful for Thea. She heard the girl whispering between each other, non doubt continuing the conversation, but Thea didn’t really want to dig any deeper as of now. She didn’t know when she would be able to come back here, so she better enjoy it while she could.

After thirty wonderful minutes, they slowly came out of the water. The skin on their fingers was as wrinkled as the skin on a mandrake’s face, and Thea had to wince a couple of times while pushing her hair away from her wet skin to leave some room for the clothes.

“I hope to come back here soon, this was enchanting.” sighed Thea happily.

“I don’t know if we will be able to join you again. We do have classes most of the time.” observed Sansa, her voice taking an odd intonation.

“Of course, of course, I wouldn’t take you from your studies.”

Why did she sound so odd suddenly? Had something happened that she missed. Sansa looked back at Jeyne, before sparing an odd look in Thea’s direction. She frowned when she found the witch’s green eyes looking back.
Jeyne was clearly frowning.

“Is there a problem?”

Jeyne opened her mouth, but Sansa stomped harder on the rocky steps involuntarily walking on her friend’s foot.

“Nothing, lady Amalthea.”

Hm…

“Where is Markus anyway?” grumbled Jeyne grumpily.
What was happening?

They approached the tall silhouette of their guard, Thea behind the girls, lost in her thoughts.

“My ladies. Did you have fun?” smiled the man.

“It was a pleasant time for Markus.” conceded Sansa.

It had been a little bit more than pleasant in Thea’s opinion, but apparently she was the only one who had a good time. What was she missing?

“Good. We should get back now. It is getting rather late af-”

It happened fast.

Something shone in the sunlight, right behind the guard. Markus’s eyes bulged on his face, so slowly it felt like time itself was slowing down. His word stuck in his throat replaced by  a thick rope of red jerking out of his quickly paling lips. His hands jerked up to his chest. No, his neck. Blood quickly covered his chest plate, his hands, his arms. He tried to grab his sword, but his legs gave up on his weight and he promptly fell face down on the grow. His body twitched and kicked, and gasped and gurgled as he choked on his own blood.

Then he stopped.

That’s when the girls started screaming.

“Not very good at his job, this one.” cackled the assassin with a smirk on his lips.

He kicked Markus’s body with a contemptuous sound and then swiped his knife on the corpse’s clothes.

“He didn’t even notice we were here. And we’ve been here for a while now! Waiting for you distinguished ladies to finally be done with your womanly activities. Do not worry, we didn’t mind waiting. In fact it was quite fun, listening to that fool’s whistling. I have never heard anyone whistle the Bear and the Maiden Fair as well as he did. He might have been good at something after all.”

He clicked his tongue as his smile grew. She didn’t even had the time to pull out her dagger or wand. She barely had the time to recognize the twisted face of the assassin.

“Catch them.”

The girls screamed louder. Thea cursed taking a step back, right against the men who were there to seize them from behind.

Hello guys, I know it's been a long time and I'm sorry. I just don't feel like writing this story, I haven't written anything for the last few months. I feel that this chapter is kinda bad but I didn't want to star longer without giving you something because I keep getting comments from you and I feel bad. I have a little bit of the next chapter written with maybe 3.5k words, but I have no idea when I will finish or publish it. Once again I apologize, I just have a huge writers block and I can't write as much as I want to.

In case if you are wondering, the new House Peverell symbol looks like this:

It was made by the very talented Anmewrie and I love it so much! Thank you!