'when shall we three meet again; in thunder, lightning, or in rain?'

_______

REYONA WAS TIRED. Though she was unable to muster up enough courage to return to the godswood alone, Reyona dedicated much of her nights to prayer. Steadfast over her worn book, she would whisper out her window, focusing on the rustling wind in the trees, envisioning the old gods carrying her pleads away on the cold, night breeze, sending them to the heavens and beyond.

     Her watch tarried over the heart tree from her height, the thought of what lurked in the woods drawing her curiosity. Reyona was sure her name had been called out, beckoning her to explore deeper. In the window, she laid eyes on her own reflection.

     Her eyes and nose were worn red, puffy and dry from endless nights and wet tears. Reyona, seated in a chair at the wide window of her chambers, watched as the morning sun of her final morning in Winterfell breached the horizon, scorching the sky with soft red tears and golden beams.

     Reyona rubbed her sore eyes and fixed the thick tendrils of hair that splayed down her shoulders. She inhaled the stale air of her room before tenderly standing and pushing open the window frame, a gust of wind wrapping her in its icy embrace, sending her black curls into a flurry around her head before distinguishing itself.

     Tucking her prayerbook into a pocket in her dress's bodice, Reyona whistled for Lyanna to follow her as she left her room, making her route to Bran's sick bed. This would be the last time she would see her brother for some time and she sought a proper goodbye on her end, even if Bran would never hear it.

     Keeping her gaze low, Reyona shielded her steel eyes from the looks of small-folk and passing cloaks. It was a lady's responsibility to appear calm and collected at all hours, no matter how dire a situation seemed. Lyanna panted by her side dutifully until she caught wind of Lady, Sansa's direwolf, playing in the distance.

     Lyanna whimpered for her master's attention. Reyona ran her hand through her wolf's dark scalp and nodded. "All right, go on." At the command, Lyanna took off, barreling to her sister in record time.

     The visage of a large, armored man passed Reyona's path and she halted, catching the attention of the Hound. Reyona parted her wild hair, using her tender fingers to tuck half of the mane behind an ear, offering Sir Clegane a stooped curtsy.

     "Sir Clegane," she spoke softly, lips faltering only a moment over his title, "are you enjoying your stay in the North?"

      Reyona picked at her thumbnail, keeping her hands busy as Clegane searched her over. She felt scorched by his gaze, her heart responding like a caged bird as his solemn grimace lifted to a casual stance. 

      His long strands of brown hair were gathered over his burnt face, though he did not seem to care how she was visibly attempting to only stare at his un-burnt features, afraid of wounding him. 

      "I am."

      Reyona halted her restless picking and dropped her hands to her sides, swallowing a rise in her throat. It was clear that Clegane would not elaborate further, so she pressed on. "It must be rather cold for your tastes; I've never been farther than White Harbor, myself."

     "The Reach will be quite a journey," he said. 

     Reyona's lips quivered with a flicker of a simper, pleased that she was holding a civil discourse with the soldier. "Will you be traveling with our party?" 

     "I go where the Prince goes."

     The wind picked up, blustering over the pair as they stood, each watching the other with interest. Reyona smiled, finding herself glad that Clegane would be joining the Tyrells and the Lannisters on their decent. "Then, I am sure our journey will be a peaceful one, ser." Reyona bowed her head and lifted the train of her dress skirts, taking her leave of Sandor Clegane, but not before catching a glimpse of the budding half-smile on his face.

     However, the flutter in Reyona's chest was extinguished once she entered Bran's sick room. Reminded of her younger brother's fight to cling to life, she found the fear return in its rightful place. 

          It was a spacious room with wide windows that peered out over the wall of Winterfell, showing a view of the town nestled beneath the castle stead. On the walls, direwolf tapestries clung to sharp rods, as did animal pelts from prized kills.

     And, as Reyona had expected, her mother sat dutifully beside Brandon's unconscious side, fingers stitching away as she weaved and knotted her prayer wheel. 

     Lady Catelyn's hands halted with a start, meeting her eldest daughter's gaze with a watery one. "Reyona," she whispered, immediately returning to her work, "you startled me."

     "Sorry, Mother. I only came to say my goodbyes to Bran," Reyona admitted. Her mother continued on, muttering prayers to the Seven under her breath and nodding to show that she was half listening to what her daughter was speaking. 

     Reyona's thick boots echoed off the stone walls as she approached Bran's bedside. He seemed too frail, with his halo of brown hair splayed against the feathered pillows and three layers of animal skin over his thin frame.

     Reyona scooted a chair closer to him and sat, lightly placing her hands over one of his. It was warm to the touch, which sparked a glimmer of hope within her. Perhaps Bran would remain resilient and pull through just fine. 

     "Good morning, Bran," Reyona started. There was a creak of restlessness as Lady Stark shifted in her chair, a frown on her brow but nothing more. 

      Reyona turned her attention back to her brother and smiled, trying to memorize how he appeared in that moment. She wanted to commit everything to memory, so she could keep him in her mind if the worst should befall him. 

     "I am leaving today, Bran," her tone was chipper, but inside she could feel her fear mounting, "for Highgarden. Now we will see if Old Nan's tales reign true. If I happen to come across a pumpkin the size of a carriage, I shall have it sent to you and Rickon at once." Reyona chuckled, a breath of a laugh.

     She squeezed his palm, sniffling as tears collected in her eyes. Meekly, she brushed a hand against her cheeks, rubbing at her eyes to keep them from falling. "I shall write weekly, I promise. And," she looked up at her mother and smiled before looking back down at Bran, "if Mother will allow, perhaps the Lady Olenna will agree to you and Rickon visiting us in the Reach -- when you're older, of course."

     Reyona caught the way her mother's stance grew ridged at her words, but she didn't mind it. She would say whatever she wished, it was her goodbyes after all.

     The door to Bran's chambers opened and Reyona glanced behind her shoulder to watch Jon Snow carefully make his way inside the room. Reyona's stomach clenched as both she and her half-brother sized up Lady Catelyn's reaction to his appearance. 

     Peering darkly from behind her long, red tresses, Lady Stark turned from Jon and addressed her daughter, voice tight and withdrawn from emotion. "Reyona, could you find the handmaiden and ask her to bring me more twine? I am running short."

     Reyona quickly stood, the chair scraping at the sound of her ejection from it. "Yes, Mother." Her tone was soft, but an undercurrent raged beneath the surface.

     Jon stooped his head as she passed. Gripping the cold, iron door handle, Reyona closed the chamber behind her. 

     It was no secret that her mother despised Jon Snow. As a child, Reyona was forbidden to play with him. She would watch as Robb and Theon and Jon played with swords away from her mother's watchful gaze, galavanting and trudging through the mud and slip of Winterfell. All the while, Reyona was stuffed up in towers with her Mother and little sisters Sansa and Arya. They had been too young to be much fun, and she longed to play with the boys. 

     However, that changed when Jon got the pox one fateful year. While her mother's hatred for the bastard remained as resilient as ever, Reyona was permitted to join the boys on their adventures. Only then, she couldn't convince them to allow her along due to the fact that she was a girl. Girls couldn't fight boys.

     Reyona had been too soft spoken when she was younger to try and blend with their ways and eventually gave up her efforts. It was Arya, the spunk of the Stark girls, who really put them in their place.

     Reyona picked at the dry skin of her thumbnail absentmindedly, a bad habit of hers, as she walked the long, stone halls. Her ears picked up the voices of people in the courtyard as they bustled about. The sound of Winterfell echoed in the halls.

     Descending the stairs and rounding a corner, Reyona could not find a handmaid. Flicking the dry skin off her finger, Reyona peered out one of the high windows that overlooked the courtyard and watched as the King's party began to gather, preparing their leave. 

     Just as well, the Tyrells would be making their leave soon too. Turning on her heel, Reyona ascended the tower stairs and was nearly trampled by Jon, who was stalking away, as fast as he could, from the chamber.

     "Jon?" Reyona called, reaching out and lightly touching his cloaked shoulder as he passed her. Jon paused but did not speak, his eyes telling Reyona everything she would need. He merely shook his head and stalked away.

     She watched him go, his head hung low and his shoulders slumped forward like a chastised beast. It was a stance she knew all too well. Angered, Reyona thrust open the chamber door, startling her mother who seemed to be crying.

     "What did you say to him?" Reyona bit out, feeling her heart soften at her mother's tears. Reyona fought to keep her anger stout, recalling the wounded look on Jon's face to keep herself from caving, as she always did when it came to her mother's behavior.

           "Reyona, please," Lady Catelyn's face darkened.

     It was then, with the sound of a rustle in the corner of the room, that Reyona realised she was not alone with her mother. Stepping into the midst of the room, she turned to see her father standing silently in the background. His features seemed worn, tired even. 

     Reyona hardened her brow and squared her shoulders, feeling her pulse slow as she sighed heavily. Crossing the room in a few long paces, Reyona clasped her hands together and guarded her words carefully. "I didn't find a handmaiden, Mother." 

     Stooping down, Reyona kissed Bran's feverish head and whispered one last goodbye into his ear, brushing his bangs down as she did. "The old gods are protecting you, Brandon."

     Ser Clegane passed Reyona in the halls as she returned from Bran's chamber. She was hoping to catch Jon once more before they both left. Clegane reached out a gloved fist and pulled Reyona aside, his marred face glowering down at Reyona. "Those who walk with a purpose walk with determination. Where are you going, little rose?"

     Reyona yanked her arm away from his grasp, looking down the halls to find that it was only her and the Hound. No one else was present. She wanted to feel afraid. She wanted to feel like the young woman that she was. But, no horror came as Reyona stared into the Hound's eyes. No disgust came as she took in the left side of his features, trailing every scorch and divot with her mind. Only pity was present. 

     "I'm searching for my brother, Jon."

     "Your brother?" He scoffed, brown eyes on fire with some unknown joke in their pools. "And, since when have little ladies and lords considered bastards true blood?"

     Reyona's skin echoed the words back in annoyance. She tucked a stray curl back behind her ear and tilted her chin up, an air of vexation in her movement. "Since when have knights pulled ladies aside and pestered them?" Only after the words left her mouth did Reyona remember her education on being a 'proper lady'. 

     Proper ladies were not meant to respond brashly to knights that were pledged to serve them. 'Always graceful, never distasteful', Septa drilled into their heads, Arya and Reyona especially. That lesson went nowhere good, as it would seem.

     "You've got a mouth on ya'," he snorted, "and, I'm no knight. I pulled you aside because of her Grace, the Queen, desires to meet with you, little lady."

     "Me?" Reyona's confident facade faltered. Her mind trailed back to the conversation she had overheard her mother and Maester Luwin conversing about. "Whatever for?"

     "As though I know what her Grace wants," he scoffed, growling as his words bit out. He lightly grabbed Reyona's forearm and began to lead her away, not needed to use force to get her to follow along diligently. 

     Reyona kept her head down as they walked, feeling the burning eyes of smallfolk as she passed with the beast of a man, practically lugged through the mud and thoroughly coating the bottom train of her wool dress in wet earth. "I suggest you release your hold on me at once," she hissed under her breath, "I shall follow you, but you wouldn't want to bring my honor into question, now would you?" Reyona pulled her arm away once more, this time for good, as Clegane recoiled from her. 

     The Hound led Reyona to the large, golden carriage that the Queen had arrived in. Maids and page boys alike were flittering about, grabbing luggage and cases of wine, stocking the carriages for the long journey ahead. A few wandering eyes landed on Reyona and Clegane, but none were brave enough to approach.

     Reyona waited nervously as he knocked respectfully on the wooden entrance, his gruff voice calling to the people inside. "I've brought the she-wolf, your Grace."

     The sound of light footsteps echoed from inside until, finally, the door opened up to display Queen Cersei, a withering smile on her lips. She seemed tired, restless with a golden goblet in her hand. Her smile soon turned sour with the glow in her green eyes.

      "What have you done with her, dog?" She snapped, shooting Ser Clegane a sharp glare after she eyed the thick mud on Reyona's dress skirts. "This is no way to treat a lady. Leave us at once." Clegane offered the queen a botched bow, stalking away at her command.

     "I'm sorry, dear one. Did he hurt you?" The queen spoke softly, beckoning Reyona into her carriage and motioning to a spot across from her, a cushioned seat. "Please sit, little rose."

     Reyona took in her surroundings. The red walls were decorated in gold bobbles and ornaments, candles flickered lowly throughout the place to shed light in every corner, and there seemed to be enough room to fit a whole procession of handmaids.

     "Thank you, your Grace," Reyona murmured, slowly lowering herself down onto the cushion with unease in the pit of her stomach. Reyona was not sure why the Queen wanted to talk privately with her, nor why she'd had the Hound drag Reyona to her presence. "I hope this does not come off rude, but why have you summoned me here?"

     "Curious," she mused, green eyes twinkling, "your aunt was too."

     Reyona's brow rose and she crossed her arms over her waist, leaning forward. "You knew my aunt?"

      "Oh, no my dear girl. I only have heard tales," she chuckled, but the smile did not reach her eyes and her words felt cold. "I did see her from afar once, however. You look a lot like her."

     "I have been told, your Grace." This conversation was dipping down to a territory that was unnerving to Reyona, and she could feel worry begin to rear its ugly head. "They have called me the 'reincarnated wolf' if I am not mistaken."

     Queen Cersei nodded, her blonde locks bouncing as she did, framing her face nicely. "Indeed, they do," she noted how Reyona shifted, uncomfortably in the cushion. "No need to feel threatened, little rose. I shall not hurt you. I visited your brother, Bran, earlier this morning. I am told that you were the one to find him?"

     A furrow carved into Reyona's brow and she shifted around once more, breathing in the strong scent of flowers and spices that perfumed the carriage around them. "Yes, your Grace. He was badly broken. Maester says he may yet recover, but there is nothing certain when it comes to the gods."

     "Yes," she watched Reyona with dead eyes, "I imagine you are right. I shall pray every morning and every night that the Mother return your brother to you." She grabbed a goblet of wine from beside her cushioned chair and peered at Reyona over the rim, "Reyona, are you happy to be a ward of Highgarden?"

      Reyona, though confused about why the Queen would ask her such a question, nodded quickly and smiled. Something warned Reyona that she was unable to see the greater picture that the Queen was painting. "I am, your Grace. It shall be an exciting adventure."

    "Good, good," the Queen nodded, taking a long sip from her wine. Reyona sat quietly, making sure her posture was perfect as the Queen continued to drink. After she had finished off the contents in her goblet, Queen Cersei offered Reyona her hand. "It has been nice meeting you, little rose. I am sure that we will have more time for small talk when you come to King's Landing for the Tourney of the Hand."

     "I was not aware that there would be one, your Grace," Reyona's voice was soft and unsure in the heat of the carriage. The walls seemed to be getting closer and closer, closing in on her and trapping Reyona alone with the Queen for eternity. Reyona found herself wondering if the Queen always been this frightful as she took her hand. "But, if there is, I will attend."

     "Most certainly there will be one, little rose," she chuckled, this time the light touched her eyes, but in a dark manner. The Queen poured another glass of wine for herself, topping off the glass. "Knowing my Lord husband, he will not wait for the tourney. He enjoys a great celebration."

     "Then, I shall greatly look forward to it, your Grace." Reyona bowed her head, standing in her presence without being properly excused. Reyona knew it was disrespectful, but she was smart enough to realise when her presence was no longer desired. "Thank you for your time, your Grace; however, I am leaving today as well and have more deeds to accomplish before then. I pray you can forgive me."

     "Of course," she smiled lightly, a motherly grin lifting the corners of her mouth, displaying her brilliant teeth. "Be safe, I shall pray to the Traveller for your safe keeping on the King's Road." The Queen ordered her handmaiden to open the carriage door, standing to see Reyona out, tipping her goblet towards the young Stark as she returned to the outside world. "Fair well."

     Breathing in the brisk air as it fanned her face, Reyona pulled her furs tighter around her body, dodging Sandor Clegane as he paced beside the domain that the Queen was hiding away in. Reyona spared him a small glare, feeling an unsettled churn in her chest at the way he'd grabbed her. 

     Reyona had never been touched that way, ever. She was unsure whether to be fearful of him or find it inspired that he treated Reyona like any other silly, little girl.

♛ ♛ ♛

     Reyona's heart was heavy as she entered the dining hall, meeting the sight of her brothers Robb and Rickon eating lunch with Theon Greyjoy in the quiet of the afternoon. Robb and Theon stood as she entered, Rickon, too young to fully know the proper way to address a lady, remained seated as he gnawed on a pheasant.

     Robb's face remained stoic as she joined them. He was dressed in a light fur and dark leathers, dressed for the occasion. Reyona broke into a wide grin as she drew closer, wrapping Robb in a warm hug. "Brother," she sighed, pulling away. "I will miss you."

     "And I you," Robb assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He had their mother's eyes, and Reyona felt comforted by the pools of blue. 

     Reyona turned to Theon and assessed him. "Theon," she said, voice tight, "I will also miss you." Reyona could see the surprise on Theon's face and she refrained herself from laughing. Theon, while not always being her most fun companion, had grown up with her, and she would miss him all the same.

     She stretched out her hand for Theon and he quickly took it, tightly shaking it with a smirk on his face, eyes holding a gleam of mischief. "You be good, Yona."

     "As should you," she quipped.

     Rickon watched from the side, grease and meat smeared on his cheeks as his older siblings exchange their goodbyes. Reyona smiled sweetly at him and grabbed a thick handkerchief on the table and dabbed at his face, earning a giggle and sputter from the little boy.

     Once the mess was cleared, Reyona took Rickon into her arms and hugged him tightly to herself, kissing the top of his head. "Little Rickon," she said as she pulled away from him, "don't forget about me in my absence. I shall send for you and Brandon to visit Highgarden soon enough." 

     Robb and Theon wished Reyona luck on the journey one last time as she took her leave of them. There was only one last person that she wanted to see off before she left, but Reyona feared that she may have missed her opportunity.

     Following behind Robb, Reyona trailed through the castle in search of Jon Snow.

     Townspeople rushed passed with blank stares, eyes settling on the Stark family then moving along to their tasks at hand. Reyona offered genuine smiles to those that watched her, feeling sad that this would be the last time in a long while she would see any of them again. 

     Having finally caught up to Jon, Reyona watched as he and her elder brother shared their goodbyes from one Stark to a Snow. Reyona averted her eyes as they hugged, not wanting to impose on their private moment. Jon adjusted the saddle on his steed as Robb departed and Reyona approached.

     "Daring to leave without a proper send-off, are you?" Reyona clasped her hands behind her back as she stepped closer, a sheepish smile on Jon's mouth as she chastised him.

     "I would never dream of it," he retorted, stopping his adjustments to face her with a full smile now. Reyona grinned back, but it did not last. It flickered out, like a flame on wet wood.

     Jon could sense her worry, so he took one of her slim hands into his, squeezing it tightly in both of his palms. "Reyona, do not fear for me."

     Reyona pressed his hands in return. "As long as you do not fear for me, Snow."

     "As I said before," Jon quipped, dropping her hand. "I would never dream of it."

     Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Reyona sized her half-brother up, glancing around the two of them to see if anyone was watching them before she thrust herself onto him, entangling her arms around his frame for a brief moment. Just as suddenly, she let go. "I will miss you, Jon. If you can receive them, I shall write you from the Reach."

     "And have all the lads think I'm breaking my vows?"

     Reyona balked and bowed her head. "Fine, then I shan't. We will never speak again, Jon Snow," she jested with a true grin, "and it shall be your doing. Remember that."

     "I shall," he chuckled, returning back to the steed before him as he tightened one last thing on its saddle. "I will miss you too, Reyona," he admitted, eyes low.

     Reyona was grateful to hear it. "Women aren't allowed at the Wall, but, perhaps you will receive a task to Highgarden and we shall meet again soon." She tried to keep her voice hopeful, but both she and her half brother knew that this could and would very well be the last time they would ever meet.

      "Perhaps. Goodbye, Reyona." 

     "Gods fair you well, Jon."

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hope you guys are still enjoying it so far ! 

[ a serious thank you to both rhaegaI and harmonyrules for being so supportive of this book. ya'll keep me inspired, and you guys should check out their books. they are two amazing authors.]