CYEL
"Ah! I got you," Cyel exclaimed when she finally got Rickon.
Robb and Antea wanted to talk to Lady Catelyn. They wanted their mother to leave Bran's room, even just sometimes. Things had to be taken care of after the visit of the King, and her children needed their mother.
Cyel had seen Lady Catelyn when she went to visit Bran, but the little lady never dared to speak to her, and Lady Stark never even seemed to notice her presence. She had never seen Lady Catelyn so distraught, so desperate. There had been whispers inside the castle, voices that said that Lady Stark should have composed herself. And maybe it needed to be done; she was the lady of Winterfell, and she was supposed to rule alongside Lord Stark's heir.
But Cyel wondered about Catelyn, the mother.
Could a mother really recover from a grief so grave, like having their own child lying on his bed, with the possibility of dying at any moment?
Maybe even a strong woman like Catelyn Stark couldn't manage to pretend that everything was alright after all.
"Cyel, no!" He argued, kicking his legs. Cyel took a breath before sitting on Rickon's bed, putting him on her lap, and hugging him.
Since Antea was busy that night, she asked Cyel to take Rickon to sleep. It wasn't the first time for the girl, but usually they would all sit together, with Rickon and his brothers, now it was different and it felt more complicated, even because the boy didn't want to lay down.
Rickon was restless, saying that no one cared if he was awake or asleep. He had been running around Cyel for the past half hour. Shaggydog was, of course, in the chamber, waving his black tail every time Rickon ran past him.
In the end, Cyel was able to get him in her arms, but Rickon tried to get out of her grip, so she tiredly yet stubbornly picked him up. "It's time for bed, little lord."
"No!" Rickon exclaimed stubbornly as Cyel took a deep breath.
"Sweetie, please. It's late," she said softly. Rickon didn't answer; he only sniffed, looking at his feet.
"Why Robb and Antea are not here?" his voice was broken, but he didn't dare to look up. "Why Mother doesn't want to see me?" Cyel closed her eyes, trying to stop tears from falling down. "Why did everyone leave me?" Rickon was just three. All of this must have been so confusing to him, he couldn't understand what was happening; his father and sisters had gone away and so did Jon. He hadn't seen or spoken to his mother in two weeks, and his older brothers were very busy during those days. It was normal for him to feel abandoned. Deep in her heart, Cyel understood what he felt.
"Listen to me, Rickon, listen," she said, turning him to face her. His blue eyes were puffed and red, and his lip was between his teeth to try not to cry. "Your family loves you very much, you know that, don't you?" Cyel said with a smile, "Just sometimes family can't be together all the time, but that doesn't mean that their love for you stops." She moved his hair from his forehead.
"How do you know?" the boy asked pouting.
"My family is not all here," she answered sweetly. "But I love all of them, and they all love me." Rickon seemed to think about her words, and he rubbed his eyes before asking, "Do you promise?" Cyel pretended to be shocked by that.
"Did I ever lie to you, my little lord?" she said, starting to tickle him. Rickon let out a loud laugh as he tried to push her hand away. Cyel smiled, looking at him. She had always seen that wild boy happy; it was so strange to see him so sad. Rickon was too young to be sad. All of them could be, but not him.
"But now," she exclaimed before standing up, and with the boy in her arms, she moved aside the covers of the bed. "It is time to sleep, for real." Cyel put Rickon down before positioning the fur blankets around him. The boy laid down, only his face visible to Cyel, who smiled. But Rickon seemed deep in thoughts once again.
"Cyel, will I be alone again tomorrow?" Cyel shook her head with a smile.
"You are lucky," she said. I have no duty for tomorrow, so you…" She pocked his chest. "… And I am going to play as long as you want." His smile was wide.
"You, I, and Shaggy!" He exclaimed. Cyel's eyes fell on the black direwolf, who looked at them before turning to look again out of the window.
"Of course," she answered. "You'll choose the game."
"I already know the game," he exclaimed happily. "Run and chase!" She should have known; Rickon loved to run around the field of Winterfell.
"Very well," Cyel said. "Run and chase, it is." They laughed at each other before Cyel spoke again.
"Now, sleep," he puffed, rolling his eyes. Everything was a good reason to Rickon to not going to sleep "Come on, I'll tell you a story" his eyes lighted up in a moment, Rickon loved stories. But before she could start to talk, a howling made her turn.
"It's Bran's…" she muttered, looking at the window. That direwolf really loved Bran. He had been staying out of his window since he had fallen from that tower. He was singing to him, for him, hoping for Bran to wake up.
Suddenly, Shaggydog started to sing along with his brother, and not after long, even the other two howls joined them. Grey Wind and Shadow. They were all singing, praying for Bran. She felt her eyes watering, those creatures were like people and they were suffering like all of them.
Will you ever wake up? Cyel wondered sadly.
Two weeks, two weeks without Bran running around, without hearing him laugh, without playing or talking with him. It still seemed a nightmare to her. To all of them.
"Do you miss him?" At Rickon's sudden words, Cyel had to breathe to control the tears threatening to slip from her eyes. "It's alright, you know? I miss him too," she bit her lips before turning and looking at Rickon with a forced smile.
"So, what about that story?"
Cyel was tired, walking to her and her mother's chamber. She hadn't slept that much those days; her mother was still ill, so Cyel often woke up to make sure she was alright. Not that she had difficulties waking up, but the thought of Bran possibly dying was hunting her everywhere, especially at night.
It hadn't taken too long for Rickon to fall asleep, and that she was glad of. Trying to be strong was becoming difficult; Cyel missed Bran. She missed him so much.
Maester Luwin had told her that the great danger had passed, but then why was Bran still unconscious? Why were his eyes still open and empty?
Suddenly, she stopped when she heard loud steps and voices echoing in the corridor. After a moment, Robb and many soldiers appear behind the corner. When Robb saw Cyel, he immediately walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"You shouldn't be outside, Cyel." His tone was urgent and worried.
"My lord, what is happening?" She asked, looking uncomfortably at her friend in the eyes. Soldiers were passing by them with quick steps while Antea approached them with Theon.
"There is a fire." A shiver ran down her spine. Her thought went immediately to her mother, she was sick in bed; she must have been moved to safety. Robb seemed to understand what she was thinking about because he squeezed her arms gently but urgently. "It's the library tower."
Cyel let out a breath of relief. Her chamber was on the other side of the castle, and her mother was safe.
"Cyel, why are you out?! " exclaimed Theon with worry in his voice once he and Antea stopped next to them. "Go in your chamber."
But Cyel didn't answer him, returning her attention to Robb.
"Antea, come back to Mother; she can't be alone," Robb said, turning to his sister, but Antea shook her head.
"Rickon could wake up and get scared," Antea said back. "I have to go to him," Robb groaned. They were wasting time. Robb and Theon should have been outside, but Robb was right; the lady wasn't alone.
"I'll go to the lady." At her words, They all turned towards Cyel. Theon seemed to not agree with her; he was always overprotective of her. "Trust me, my lord."
Robb took a grave breath, and then he nodded quickly.
"Very well," he said before thanking Cyel and running away with Theon, who shook his head as their eyes met. Antea thanked her, too, before running in the direction of Rickon's room. Cyel immediately raced towards Bran's chamber.
Winterfell was darker that night, and it almost scared her. It was quiet without soldiers and servants around. They all were surely helping with the fire—even a fire! They really didn't need that. How did it happen? Maybe a candle had fallen. Cyel just hoped that no one was inside the library tower that night.
The girl climbed up the stairs that led to Bran's chamber. When she arrived in front of the door, she noticed it was closed. Why would the lady or his children close it in the rush of the moment?
When she got closer, she heard strange sounds, groans, and the sounds of bodies fighting. Without thinking twice, Cyel entered the room. Before her, there was a short man with blond hair and dark clothes. He was holding Lady Catelyn, who was trying to get out of his grip. The man hadn't seen Cyel because she was behind his back, so the girl ran to him and jumped on his back, covering his eyes with her hands.
The man groaned, but he let go of the lady, too busy trying to stop Cyel from scratching his face with her nails. He tried to take her off of him, but Cyel clanged to him. She wouldn't let him hurt her lady. Then suddenly the man pushed her against the wall. When her back hit the cold stone hard, she let out a gasp. She closed her eyes for the pain, and the man managed to make the girl fall, and then he pushed her to the floor next to Catelyn.
"It's mercy," he said, holding a knife and walking towards Bran.
He wasn't there for the lady. He wanted to kill Bran.
"No!" Cyel got up at the same time as Lady Catelyn. She didn't even know how she could stop him, but she would have found a way.
They both ran to the man, who turned quickly and pushed the woman again, making her fall on the floor, before turning to Cyel and slapping her across the cheek hard. The girl fell next to Bran's bed, her eyes full of tears from the pain. Her back was badly hurt, and in her mouth, she could taste blood, but she was determined to stop that man.
"Stay away!" Cyel said, gripping the furs on Bran's bed to stand up, but as she moved, the man slapped her once again, making her fall down on the floor.
Her face was hurting, and her cheek was stinging, but she would not stop. Cyel was about to stand up again when a shadow ran into the chamber and jumped on the man, who started to scream in agony on the floor. Blood was on the floor, and piercing screams and groans echoed in the chamber. Cyel's eyes were fixed on the crimson pool not far from the bed. She was shacking for what was happening before her, and then she realized who had saved all of them from that murderer: Bran's direwolf.
He looked at the murderer under him, with his mouth covered in blood, like he wanted to be sure that the man was dead; then he looked at Lady Catelyn and licked her hands before turning to Cyel and doing the same on her cheek, then the direwolf jumped on the bed to lay next to Bran.
The girl stood up, still shaking, and when a tear rolled down her cheeks, she realized she was crying. She didn't even know why, or maybe she did; she couldn't think straight. But then she realized that the lady was still on the floor, so Cyel quickly whipped the tears away and ran to her lady without looking at the body of the man at her feet. When she got closer, Cyel noticed her lady's hands covered in blood, on each of her palms a huge and deep cut. She had fought against that dagger with her bare hands. Lady Catelyn was truly brave.
"My lady," she called softly to the woman who had her gaze fixed on the gold-eyed direwolf. "My lady, we need to find Maester Luwin," Lady Catelyn looked at her; her eyes were different as if she had seen Cyel for the first time. She studied her face for a moment, her gaze stopped on the girl's cheek and lips red for the blood, before muttering:
"Thank you." Then the woman got up, her bloody hands still up in front of her chest, and, looking at the direwolf, she got closer to him before muttering another thank you to the creature. Then suddenly, the lady started to laugh hysterically by herself. Cyel looked at the woman before her, and everything came crashing on her: all the fear, all the pain. Her legs gave in, and she fell on the floor, taking deep breaths to try and calm herself down.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but they were found like that by Robb, Theon, and Ser Rodrick. They looked at them for a moment before the Stark boy ran to his mother, followed by Ser Rodrick, who was examining the dead man, and Theon, who knelt in front of Cyel.
"What has he done to you?" He muttered angrily, touching her still swollen cheek, but the moment he brushed her skin, she moved her face for the stinging pain.
"Cyel.." she looked at her friend, shaking, and more tears ran down her cheeks from her brown eyes.
"No, no, little one," Theon said, hugging her close to him. "It's alright. You're safe now." She nodded against his shoulder, ignoring the pain in her back, clenching her hands to the fur of his cape. She felt less terrified in that moment, feeling Theon's arms around her. Then she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell on Bran, still unconscious, unaware of what was happening around him.
That man wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill an innocent boy of seven. Why? Why would he do such a thing?
Maester Luwin and Antea rushed into the room some minutes later, and they immediately kneeled to check on the lady. Robb must have sent someone to call them because the man was already giving the exhausted lady poppies' milk. She fell asleep almost immediately, and Robb ordered four men to take his mother to her chambers and guard the door.
Cyel had been looking at Bran all along, not a moment her eyes diverted from him. Just now, she realized the great danger she and her lady had been through.
She could have died. But at that moment, when that man was approaching with the shining dagger towards her, she didn't even care about getting hurt. She didn't know if call it bravery or stupidity, but all that mattered was that Bran was alive, that was all she cared about.
"Cyel, how are you feeling?" Cyel looked away from Bran to meet Robb's eyes. The young lord had kneeled in front of her with a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine, Robb," she answered in a whisper, glad that her body had stopped shaking as she felt Theon rubbing her back. Then suddenly, two arms wrapped around her neck.
"Cyel," Antea said before breaking the hug with a serious expression. "What were you thinking?!"
"Antea is right!" Cyel closed her eyes. Their voices were too loud for her ears. "You should have gotten help."
"He is right!" Antea exclaimed.
"Leave her alone," Robb said, trying to calm them down.
"I'm sorry," Cyel muttered in a whisper. "When I came in, that man was trying to kill the lady." She shivered at the memory. "I…didn't have time to think." Antea took her hand, trying to comfort her.
"Thank you," Robb spoke softly, "For saving our mother." She wasn't the one who saved her, but surely, they already knew that by looking at the body, so Cyel nodded.
"Why would he want to kill the lady?" At Theon's words, Cyel's eyes fell on the bed once again.
"He wasn't," Cyel said to herself, her eyes never leaving the shape of Bran's body under the covers. Her head was pounding, her back hurt like the seven hells, and in her mouth, she could still feel the metallic taste of blood.
"What do you mean?" but before the girl could answer to Antea's question the Maester's voice made them turn.
"I need to visit Lady Sand, my lords." Robb and Theon nodded. They looked at the girl one last time before leaving the room and closing the door behind them.
"Do you want me to stay?" Antea asked. "I'll attend Bran tonight, but I can sit here if you need me to," Cyel shook her head, looking at the lady.
"Go to him," she said. "It's more important." Antea frowned at her words, her eyes moving from Cyel to Bran. "I'll leave as soon as the Maester has done." Antea's eyes were still fixed on her unconscious brother before she nodded to Cyel and stood up.
"Does it hurt somewhere, Cyel?" the Maester said, sitting in front of her.
"There are going to be guards outside of this room tonight?" She asked while looking at Bran.
"Of course, my lady," Maester Luwin said, studying her face closely. "They are already here." Cyel turned to the man with a small smile and nodded her head.
"My back," she said. "My back hurts."
It had been four days since the attack, and Lady Catelyn was still sleeping. It wasn't just for the milk of poppies; that was the first time in two weeks that the lady had closed her eyes. Cyel was feeling better. There were still bruises on her back, but they were fading more and more every day, and her cheek wasn't swollen anymore.
Phelya got mad at Cyel when the Maester told her what had happened. Of course, as a mother she was worried for her, but Cyel didn't want for her to stress, it wasn't healthy in her condition. In the last days she had calmed down, but Phelya seemed to overthink about something, Cyel didn't dare to ask, afraid to argue with her mother again. Cyel was very sorry to have caused so much trouble to Phelya, but she didn't regret helping her lady and Bran; she was glad for that moment of bravery that took over her that night.
"You are not eating with the Starks today. Since you feel better?" Phelya stated, looking up from her plate. Cyel usually ate with the Starks as their ward, but lately, there was no one to break their fast. The lady was still asleep, and Antea was taking care of her younger brothers. Cyel would have helped her, but the Maester told her to rest and not to stress her back, so he gave her the milk of the poppies, so she hadn't been very helpful those days. And Robb and Theon were busy with the soldiers to find out who was the blond man who attacked Lady Catelyn.
Cyel had thought about him constantly. She wanted to understand who he was and why he wanted to kill Bran. She was hoping that Robb would find those answers soon. Cyel was just hoping that there weren't others hiding in Winterfell who were planning to kill him.
"I think I'll go to pay Bran a visit," the girl answered, sipping her milk. "Maybe I can help Antea with her duties," her mother said, studying her with her blue eyes.
"The Maester said that you need rest," Cyel said, putting down her cup before slowly standing up from her chair.
"I've rested for three days, Mother," she said, walking to her box of jewels. Everything that her father had ever sent her was in there. She chose a hairband with silver leaves on it and hidden under them there was a snake with orange eyes.
"I'm fine, don't worry," she answered sweetly, turning to the woman.
"Though I am worried," her mother said, making the girl look at her feet. "What happened had been extremely dangerous."
"We really need to talk about this?" Cyel almost pleaded; she still had nightmares about what happened. And the pain on her back was a constant reminder that it had not been a fantasy.
"We need to," her mother said. "You almost died."
Cyel took a shaky breath at those words. She had acted without thinking; as soon as she saw that man holding her lady, she was desperately trying to get free. She could still see the blood and the knife. And when he turned towards Bran…
It's mercy, he had said.
Mercy.
"There was no time to think," Cyel said, biting her lips. "I couldn't… That man… Mother." In her eyes, she could feel tears. She was not able to put into words everything that she was feeling, but something was sure: "I won't apologize for what I did."
Her mother shook her head. "I do not want you to apologize; you've protected our lady. As all of us should do," she said, and Cyel felt somewhat relieved by those words, hating the thought of her mother being angry at her. "But you are my Sun, Cyel. I beg of you to do the right thing and always help your lord liege, but do not go into danger blindly. Do not act like your father," That made Cyel let out a melancholic chuckle.
"What if it runs in the family?" Cyel asked, "You're impulsive too."
Phelya nodded at her with kind eyes. "That I am, but remember that in your veins, there's Prince Doran's blood as well. He had always admired your mind."
Her uncle Doran Martell, Head of the House Martell, had never hidden his admiration for Cyel's manners. He often said to her that her eyes were observative and her words were well thought. He even added sometimes that while Cyel's drive was similar to his, the one his daughter, Arienne, had was much more similar to Oberyn's.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Cyel and her mother looked at each other before Phelya spoke.
"Come in."
Theon Greyjoy made his entrance into the Chamber. On his leather jerkin, the shape of a Kraken was visible. The Kraken was the banner of House Greyjoy, lords of the Iron Islands. Theon always wore something with a Kraken on it. It was important for them wards to wear something that reminded to everyone which house they belonged to.
"Good morrow," he said with his wide smile to them.
"Theon, it's good to see you," Phelya replied, fixing the covers around her.
"Likewise," he bowed his head. "How are you feeling, lady Rosemberg?" Phelya nodded politely.
"I'm feeling better today. Thank you," Theon smiled again before turning to Cyel. He seemed happy to see her up. He had visited her only the morning after the attack, with Robb, after that they had been so busy finding out more informations about that man. While Antea had visited every day, even if just for a few minutes, before going back to Rickon or Bran.
"You are still standing; that's good," Theon exclaimed.
"You would be bored without me" Cyel smiled to her friend, who rolled his eyes with a laugh. She was speaking the truth, though. Cyel considered Theon as if he was her brother and she felt that he considered her a little sister, even if he had never told out loud.
After a moment, Theon's eyes clouded, and his expression became serious.
"The lady woke up." At his words, Cyel stepped closer to him.
"Really?" She asked, relieved. Theon nodded silently.
"How is she feeling?" Even Phelya seemed happy by the news. The two women had become close friends in the past seven years. Phelya wanted to visit Lady Catelyn, but she couldn't get up from bed.
"She just woke up," Theon kept saying. "That's why I'm here. She wants to talk to us. And she wants you there, Cyel." Probably, she wanted to know what had happened those days. Cyel was surprised that the lady wanted her there. But she nodded her head nonetheless to let Theon know she was ready to follow him.
When she was at the door, she turned to Phelya, who gave her an encouraging smile.
"I'll see you later, Mother." Then Cyel closed the wooden door before following Theon in the large corridors of Winterfell.
She had missed doing it, walking around in Winterfell and seeing all the people that lived there, even if now most of the people she grew up with had gone South with lord Eddard.
While she was passing by a group of servants, she saw them smiling happily at her, bowing their heads, and immediately Cyel did the same. The servants of Winterfell were so kind and always willing to help their children when they were up to something. Once, Lylith, a servant who usually worked in the kitchen, hid Bran and Cyel, who were running from Theon after a prank, and then she gave them freshly made waffles, which they ate with Arya and Sansa.
It seemed it had happened so long before, a life before. Everything had changed so fast; they had to grow up so fast. Cyel didn't feel like a girl of eleven anymore; it was so strange.
"Have you found out anything?" Cyel asked with a low voice, walking closer to Theon. Her friend understood that she was asking about the blond man because he looked around before answering in a whisper. "Something," he said, "But I'll tell you later."
She was eager to know, but if he couldn't tell her now, that man mustn't have been a common man. Maybe he wanted to hurt lord Stark by hurting his son, but why? Lord and Lady Stark were good lords, always taking care of the needs of their people. Why would someone do that to the lords of Winterfell?
They arrived in front of the chamber of the lady, and at the same time, Robb arrived as well, with the new captain of the guard, Hallis Mollen, and Ser Rodrick Cassel. The young lord was dressed in lather, and his sword hung on his waist. He seemed a true lord, so different from the always funny boy she grew up with. He seemed older than his fifteen years.
"Cyel," he said relieved as he made long steps towards her. He put his hands in her arms affectionately, and Cyel looked up at him with a smile.
"Lady Cyel," Ser Rodrick said when he saw her, Cyel bowed her head as a greeting. "How are you feeling?"
"Quite well, thank you, Ser Rodrick," she answered politely.
"We are all glad to hear it," Robb said, giving Cyel a gentle smile, before he turned to open the door of his mother's chamber.
The lady was sitting in her bed. With her were already Maester Luwin and Antea. The man was changing the lady's bandages on her hands, and Cyel realized just now how deep that cut was. The dagger used by that man should have been very sharp. Antea was sitting on a chair next to her mother. She was watching closely the Maester's movements, but when they entered the room, she raised her gaze, and when she noticed Cyel, she smiled widely to her.
The lady looked at them, too. Her eyes fell on her eldest son, maybe even surprised by how much older Robb looked. Then the lady looked at Cyel, studying her face for a moment before speaking.
"Who was he?" She was talking about the man.
"No one knew him, my lady," Hallis Mollan said. "But some people saw him around Winterfell in the past few weeks."
"A man of the King," the lady said, and then her face became hard, almost angry. "A man of the Lannisters," Cyel looked closely at her lady.
How could she be so sure?
The lady seemed absolutely certain of what she was saying.
"We found this where he was sleeping." Robb took from his pocket a brown leather bag. "In here, there are ninety silver stags." Cyel eyes widened. He had been paid with so many coins. Someone very rich wanted for Bran to die.
But why? Cyel wondered.
"It's good to know my son's life was not sold cheaply," the lady said bitterly, and she was right. Maybe lady Catelyn was right, that man could have been a man of Lannisters'. Hearing what her father told her about the lords of Casterly Rock, Cyel wouldn't be surprised.
But the reason? What was the reason?
"Mother," Antea exclaimed, her eyes wide open. Are you saying they were here for Bran?"
"That's madness." Theon shifted next to Cyel.
"It is the truth," Cyel spoke, and everyone's eyes fixed on the girl. "That man wanted to kill Bran. If it hadn't been for his direwolf, that man would have succeeded." Her voice was full of dread, thinking about what could have happened. And maybe he would have killed even the lady and myself." Catelyn was looking at her, nodding her head slowly. Her eyes lighted up when Cyel mentioned her boy's direwolf.
"That is what you meant that night." Cyel frowned at Robb's words. What happened after the attack was very confused in her mind. She remembered just bits and pieces of the conversation she had. The fear took the best of her.
"But why?" He added, "Why would someone want to do it? Gods, he is just seven, helpless and sleeping…"
"You are going to rule the North Robb," the lady said with a challenging look. "Think it through. Answer your own question. Why would anyone want to kill a sleeping child?" Robb wore a pensive expression on his face, but he wasn't the only one. Everyone was doing the same.
Cyel's head was full of questions. There must have been something that she hadn't paid attention to. If someone so rich had paid that man so much, it meant that they wanted Bran to be dead as soon as possible. They didn't want him to wake up. They were afraid of something that Bran knew… Or something that he saw…
"Someone doesn't want him to wake up," Robb said, giving voice to Cyel's thoughts. "Bran must know something." Catelyn looked at her son proudly.
"Very good," the lady said before turning to the new captain of guard. "We must keep Bran safe. If there was one killer, there could be others."
"Put one man in Bran's chamber, night and day," Robb demanded. "One out of his door, two at the bottom of the stairs. No one enters that room without mine, my mother's, or Antea's warrant."
"Do it now," the lady added. Hallis bowed his head, assuring he would have followed their orders.
"And let his wolf stay in his room," the young lord said. Lady Catelyn nodded her head vigorously, agreeing with her son. That creature had saved her son; surely now she trusted him.
"And Cyel," the lady of Winterfell added. Cyel looked at her lady with wide eyes, unsure she had heard her right. "Lady Cyel is free to visit him." Hallis bowed his head and left.
Cyel and the lady were still looking at each other, there was something in her lady blue eyes, but Cyel wasn't able to name it. She was glad that the lady trusted her that much, but she felt shocked nonetheless.
All of this involved the Starks. But Cyel wasn't a Stark, why the lady had made that decision?
"My lady," Ser Rodrick's voice made the both of them look away and turn to him. "I examined the dagger. It's Valyrian steel, and surely no man like that could have one."
Valyrian steel weapons were extremely rare, no common man could own it. In Cyel's mind, there was just a House in the Seven Kingdoms so rich to pay that much and with a blade like that. Lannisters.
"Close the door," the lady said in her usual calm voice. It was incredible how she seemed to come back in herself. The attack must have woken her up from grief; she was again the lady Catelyn they all knew.
"What I'm going to tell you must not leave this room," the lady said sternly. If I'm right, then my husband and my girls are in extreme danger." At her words, Antea's eyes were a mixture of fear and anger, and she immediately got closer to her mother. "You must swear that nothing you'll know will leave this room," the lady said sternly. When the lady looked at her daughter, she immediately nodded.
Lannisters, there was no mistake. Cyel was sure.
When she had met them, she didn't want to judge, but what her father, Prince Oberyn Martell, had always told her about them was right. They were capable of everything. Her mind thought about her late aunt, Elia, and her children. How could she not?
The treason of the Lannisters, the murder of Aegon and Rheanys before their mother's eyes, and Elia's savage and merciless death. That was a story that was well known in her family, especially to all the Sand Snakes. They all had to know; they all had to remember.
The lady was right. Lord Eddard and his daughters were in danger.
"I swear it, my lady," Cyel vowed confidently. "On my life," Lady Stark seemed pleased by her words.
"Lord Stark is like a father to me," Theon said. "I swear." Everyone in the room did the same, and soon, the lady started to explain her theory.
Apparently, lady Lysa Arryn, lady Catelyn's sister, had written to the lords of Winterfell to let them know that the Lannisters had killed her husband, Jon Arryn. That's why lord Eddard had gone South.
Lannisters…
What did you see, Bran? She thought to herself. It must have been something important. Maybe he found out that they had killed lord Arryn. But if they wanted to kill him, they must have known he knew. Cyel eyes widened in shock with realization.
I never fall, Bran's words echoed in her mind.
"It comes to my attention that Jamie Lannister never left the castle for the hunt the day that Bran fell."
Bran was good, too good at climbing, and he had never flipped. He climbed trees and walls with ease, with rain, with snow. The Broken Tower was his favorite place to climb. He could never have fallen.
"He had been thrown," Cyle said with a disgusted voice. That monster pushed Bran down, and the next days, he walked among them, talked, and ate with them.
"That's what I think, too," Catelyn agreed with her.
"This is a monstrous suggestion," Ser Rodrick said. But Antea scoffed.
"The number of coincidences isn't a sufficient proof?" The young lady said angrily "He is the Kingslayer, he wouldn't even bait an eye before doing something so terrible. We all know how he gained that name." Cyel nodded in response to her friend's words.
"Not even the Kingslayer would have been able to murder a child," Ser Rodrick insisted.
"Oh, would he?" Theon said sarcastically, "I wonder."
"A Lannister has no qualm of killing to achieve their purposes," Cyel growled, using her father's words.
"Bran was too skilled," Maester Luwin said. Apparently, everyone believed the lady's words.
"Gods," Robb exclaimed with his face twisted in anger. "If it's true, they will pay for it." Cyel couldn't agree more. "I'll kill him myself," he swore, swinging his new steel sword. Antea was immediately next to him, telling her twin to put the weapon away.
"This dagger is proof then, my lady," Ser Rodrick said, now admitting to believing her. Cyel was sure he just wanted to think rationally, but there was too much proof to ignore.
"Someone must go to King's Landing," Lady Catelyn stated, looking at the shining blade.
"I'll go," exclaimed Robb, but the lady stopped him.
"No, your place is here," she was right; he was the lord of Winterfell, and he couldn't leave. The lady started to look at each of them, studying them, before speaking again, "I'll go myself." They all gasped at this.
"My lady, is that wise?" Maester Luwin asked uncertainly, but Antea stepped forward.
"She won't go alone," she said. "Because I'm coming with you." She was so determined. Cyel had never seen her friend like this. "And Shadow will be with us."
"No, you are not coming, Antea," Lady Catelyn said, but Antea shook her head.
"You said Father and the girls are in danger," she answered confidently. "Robb can't come with you, so I will. The Lannisters had already hurt one of my brothers; they won't touch someone else in our family. Let me help you stop them." Antea was angry, but she was so stubborn that no one would have ever made her change her mind. Robb looked at her like she was crazy, and he surely was hoping for his mother to refuse.
"Alright, Antea," the lady said after some moments of silence, "You can come with me."
At that point, Robb stepped forward. "No, wait! You can't go!" he exclaimed. "Not both of you!" Cyel felt for Robb. He was truly in pain, and another important part of his family was going away.
"Robb," Antea said, putting her hands on her brother's shoulders. "You know that one of us has to go with Mother. With Shadow with us we will be fine."
"Yes, but…" Robb argued with sadness in his voice, knowing he couldn't leave the North. "What about Bran?" Antea looked down, and the lady answered:
"I did everything I could. Bran is in the Gods' and Maester Luwin's hands. And as you two reminded me, Robb, I have other children" Cyel could just imagine what the lady was going through, no one of her family was safe now, it was right for her to go. Bran wasn't alone, and they would have come back soon for sure. They had to.
"Then I'll send Hallis and his guardsmen with you," Robb said, but the lady shook her head.
"No," she said. "We have to travel unnoticed; we can't be accompanied by so many men." Robb bit his lips, frustrated. Antea nodded to her mother, she clearly agreed with her.
"Then let me escort you." At Theon's words, everyone turned to him. His eyes were fixed on Antea, and he seemed impatient to get an answer. Sometimes Cyel thought that Theon hadn't just a crush on the young lady. He was truly in love with Antea Stark. Cyel could see it in his eyes more than ever. He had never looked at other girls in that way.
"No, Theon," Antea said with a smile, clearly appreciating his bravery. The smile on Theon's face fell in the moment those words left her mouth.
"Why?" He asked, walking closer to her. "I'm good with bow and arrows. No one will ever approach you, my lady; I won't let them," he was pleading with her with his eyes.
"I know you wouldn't," Antea said sweetly. But I need you to stay here. Robb needs you." Theon looked at his feet before meeting Antea's eyes again. "He is too stubborn; you are the only one he'll listen to when I'll be away." Antea smiled encouragingly. "Can you do it for me?" They looked at each other for a moment.
"Anything," Theon answered, bowing his head. Cyel looked at Theon who was now standing next to her, his eyes were sad but his posture hid it well. Antea was still looking at him when Ser Rodrick spoke:
"Then I'll come with you." Lady Catelyn nodded at the man.
"We won't take the Kingsroad," she stated, looking at Antea and Rodrick. "Go get ready; we leave today."
Every one of them got out of the lady's chamber, and Cyel followed Antea to her chamber. The lady didn't need to pack anything; she just had to change her clothes and pick another dress to take with her.
"Are you sure, Antea?" Cyel asked, already knowing that her friend would never change her mind; she was too angry to change her mind.
"That monster," she growled. "They won't touch someone from my family again."
"I know you are angry," Cyel said. She would have left, too; she would have even written to her father if she hadn't sworn not to tell anyone what they had found out. But if the lady is gone, you'll be needed here." Robb and Rickon needed her, and Bran needed her.
"They'll be fine," Antea said, turning to Cyel calmer than before. "They won't be alone. You'll be here."
"Me?" Antea nodded her head.
"Of course, they all love you very much," she exclaimed. "And I won't be away long," said Antea, rubbing her hands against her dress. "I'm ready."
The girl had chosen a plane grey dress without embroideries. It was the simplest dress she had. She made a wise choice; they had to be unseen during their journey.
Just a few weeks before, Antea shivered just at the thought of going South, but now she had a fire in her eyes, a fire that had never lit her eyes in that way before. She seemed a grown woman to Cyel, now more than ever. The Starks women were truly brave.
"I'll see you soon, my friend," Antea said, hugging Cyel close. "Make the boys behave, even Theon," Cyel laughed. Her looking out for them wouldn't be a problem, or at least she hoped. The one that she was most worried about was Rickon.
"Be careful on the road" Cyel said before letting her friend go, Antea smiled at her before walking out of the room. Surely, she went to say goodbye to her brothers.
Cyel went to her room to check on her mother, but she found her asleep, so she decided to visit Bran. She wouldn't have been useful to Robb and Antea, and she really wanted to see Bran.
When she entered, she saw Bran's direwolf lying next to him. Guarding him, protecting him. As he saw her, the direwolf raised his head, and his golden eyes fixed on the lady. They looked at each other for a moment before he waved his tail and got back in his previous position.
Taking it as a sign that she could make her entrance, Cyel sat there next to Bran. She could barely recognize him. He was so thin that she could see his bones. He was eating nothing but herbs, water, and honey, after all. And his eyes. They were open and empty, nothing like the sweet and joyful eyes that she remembered.
How could Jaime Lannister have done something like that? She couldn't believe that someone could have been so evil to do something so horrible.
Cyel had heard the Kingslayer talking about Bran to lord Tyrion one morning as she was walking by the hall where the two brothers were breaking their fast. She heard him say that it was better for Bran to die since his back and legs were broken. Since he could not walk anymore. All because of Jamie Lannister. And he dared to speak about Bran's life, about Bran's future.
Cyel regretted not listening to her father's words closely. She wanted to believe that people could be good, and she didn't want to judge before knowing. She had been too naive.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, moving Bran's hair from his forehead. "I should have come with you." he wouldn't have been on that tower if she had been with him, and he would have been awake now. Cyel missed him, Winterfell was so quite without Bran's laughs. She knew that the greatest danger had passed, but then why wasn't he awake?
"Please, wake up," she whispered before the sound of knocking made her turn. On the door, there was Lady Catelyn. Immediately, Cyel stood up and bowed her head. The lady stepped in, walking closer to the bed. She had come to say goodbye to her son.
"I'll leave you alone, my lady," Cyel said, but before she could move away from the bed, Catelyn stopped her.
"No, stay," she said softly before walking closer to Bran. She looked at him affectionately for a moment before giving him a kiss on the forehead.
"I wanted to thank you, Cyel," the lady said, turning to the girl. "For that night. You didn't save just my life, but Bran's too." Cyel shook her head.
"I've done nothing," she replied softly, before turning to the wolf lying on the bed. "He is the one to thank." The direwolf tuned to the girl, who pet his head with a thankful smile.
"You apologized to Bran," the lady said after a moment of silence, and Cyel immediately looked down. "Why?" Cyel didn't want to answer; she didn't want the lady to know how she had let down Bran, but in the end, she took a breath to take courage before looking at the lady again.
"He asked for me to join him that day," Cyel said, thinking back at her last conversation with Bran. Tears started to form in her eyes. I didn't want to say goodbye to him. That's why I stood back." A soft sob left her lips. I should have been with him, but I wasn't."
Cyel could feel her Lady looking at her, and she felt afraid. Afraid of what Lady Catelyn must be thinking, of the anger she may feel. But when Cyel looked up in Catelyn Stark's eyes, there was no sign of anger or disappointment.
"It was not your fault, Cyel," the lady got closer to the girl. "No one here blames you. And I'm more than sure that he wouldn't blame you." Cyel turned to Bran. She looked at his empty eyes, so different from the ones she knew. She was glad to hear those words, but she couldn't stop from feeling guilty. She was afraid she would never stop blaming herself.
"You know, I watched you." At the lady's words, Cyel turned to her. "I've always watched the two of you." A small, sad smile appeared on the woman's face. "You were always so happy around each other. Your laughs echoed in the castle constantly. I've never seen him so happy with anyone else. And I know that for you is the same." Cyel felt her cheeks blush, she didn't even know why. "You've lost that special light in your eyes since it happened. I've noticed it… And my children, too." Then, the lady looked Cyel in the eyes. "You know, why I'm telling you this?" Cyel shook her head softly. Then the lady took her hand.
"There is no one I trust more with Bran than you," Cyel said, looking at the lady with surprise in her eyes. I know he is very special to you, as much as you are special to him. And that's all Ned and I had ever wanted." At those words, Cyel realized what the lady was telling her.
They had chosen. It was Bran.
"But now I want to ask you something." Cyel looked at the lady again. "And I want you to answer, not because of the promise between our countries, but because you are honestly sure you can keep this promise."
Cyel turned towards Bran for a moment, and even if she didn't know what Lady Stark was about to ask her, Cyel didn't hesitate to answer.
"Of course, my lady" Catelyn squeezed Cyel's hand.
"Bran's life won't be easy from now on," the lady's voice cracked for a moment. She was right; Bran's legs couldn't move anymore. His life wouldn't be like his brothers' or any other young lord's.
"He'll need help," the lady added. "Help him, protect him. Protect him from anything that feels like a threat." Cyel looked her lady in the eyes; she didn't want to be rushed, but that promise sounded so easy to her. She had cared about Bran all her life, and now she wasn't just his friend anymore.
"My lady," she spoke, surprised to herself about how strong her own voice sounded "Bran had always been special to me, and believe my words: I won't ever let any harm come to him. I swear it, my lady," lady Catelyn smiled at her, a real smile, a natural one.
"Thank you," she said, squeezing Cyel's hand more. Some tears slipped from her eyes, but then she wiped them away.
"It's time for me to go," Catelyn said, fixing the skirt of her dress. "Farewell, Cyel," the girl bowed at the lady as a goodbye. The lady smiled again, then looked at Bran before turning to walk away.
"Be safe on the road," Cyel said before her lady exited the room. Lady Catelyn looked at her affectionately and nodded in silence before closing the door behind her.
It had been two weeks since the lady and Antea had left Winterfell. Cyel spent her days with her mother and taking care of Rickon, but she spent all her free time sitting next to Bran. She talked to him, telling him what was going on around Winterfell, how Robb was becoming a lord everyday; when people were around, he didn't joke anymore, and Theon was trying to ease his mood, taking care of Robb in his own way. Days went on in Winterfell, and even Bran's birthday had passed. She almost hoped he would have woken up that day, but he didn't.
Bran's direwolf liked having Cyel around. When she felt most sad, he usually licked her hand or face. He hadn't moved from that bed, never, and he always studied whoever entered the chamber, making Cyel feel safe and relieved.
One evening, Cyel was in Bran's chamber, sitting on her usual chair next to the bed. She had cut his hair some days before; he had never had it that long. A servant offered to do it, but Cyel insisted on being the one to do it.
"Do you want to hear a story, sweet lady?" Cyel looked at Old Nan. She was a very old and sweet woman; she had taken care of all of the Starks, and she knew many stories. In those days, she had kept company to Cyel when she was alone with Bran.
"No, gratitude," Cyel answered sweetly; the woman smiled at her. "You should take a rest," the girl added. "It's getting late."
"As you wish, my lady," Old Nan said before standing up. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Cyel answered, smiling at the woman. Then she turned to her needlework. She was training with new embroideries to add to a dress that she was sewing for her mother.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but suddenly, she heard Bran's direwolf shift on the bed. Cyel looked at the door afraid of a new attack, that wolf was always so quiet. Her heart hammered inside her chest, waiting for the wooden door to open, but no one ever entered. She took a breath before looking again at the direwolf, who seemed to have calmed down. Cyel was about to return her attention to the needlework when she saw a movement. It was for a moment, for a single moment, but she was sure Bran's hand had moved. It moved, she was sure.
Immediately, Cyel stood up, letting her needlework fall on the floor. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dark orange gown to move it so that she could sit on the bed next to Bran. She looked at his hand, waiting for any sign of movement, but there was none. But she couldn't have imagined that she couldn't.
"Bran," she called softly, and she waited, hoping for his eyes to move, blink, or do anything other than stare blankly at the ceiling. But nothing.
She must have been tired; it was very late. But Cyel was so sure of what she had seen. Or maybe she was just wishing so much for him to wake up.
Cyel was about to stand up and go back to her chamber, but then she met the golden eyes of the direwolf stopping her. He was looking at her as if he was trying to communicate something. As he was trying to stop her from leaving.
What do you know? She thought. What did he want to tell her?
She then turned back towards Bran. Could she really have imagined his hand moving? After a moment, she decided to get closer once again. Cyel looked closely at Bran's face, and she searched his eyes for any sign of life. For all that time, she had avoided looking into his eyes for too long, but not now. She had to see.
Then suddenly, very slowly, Bran blinked his eyes.
"Oh, gods," she whispered. He blinked again like he was beginning to see again. Her heart was beating fast, afraid she was imagining everything. She had dreamt before of him waking up, and she dreaded that suddenly she would have left her slumber to come back to their sad reality. But it didn't happen, Bran's eyes moved and bliked until he seemed to realize that she was in front of him.
"Bran," she whispered with tears in her eyes as he smiled at her. She immediately stood up and run out of the room.
"Guards!" she cried, her cheeks wet from tears. "Guards! Call Lord Stark! Brandon is awake!" The guards at the bottom of the stairs ran away in a moment. "He is awake," she muttered to herself with a smile. He was awake; it was no dream. Bran was safe.
She then ran up the stairs, and when she entered the room, Bran and his direwolf were looking at each other. It seemed like they were talking to each other silently, in a language that just the two of them knew.
Suddenly, Robb ran inside the room, with Theon close behind. He was about to say something when Bran looked up at them.
"Summer," he said, petting his direwolf "His name is Summer".