A Boy

279 AC

A Boy

"What is a pretty little thing like you doing out here, alone?" The smooth voice of the man stood in front of her asked.

Ellena blinked, she was sure it was Roose Bolton, the Lord of the Dreadfort, that was looking down at her. She hoped he remembered her from past feasts and jousts that her father had held, even if their introductions were fleeting.

Roose knew her all too well, having taken a liking to the young girl when he had seen her as a woman grown at a tourney that Rickard had hosted not too long ago. "Would your lord father be pleased to know you were here alone?"

Ellena let out a breath of air, glad to know she would not have to remind, or rather plead to him, of her father's name. Especially not with all the stories that Lyanna and Ellena had found out from the women of Winterfell's household – how Roose would take to servants and maids, setting his late lady wife aside for the warmth of an unknown woman. "I only came for fresh air, my lord," Ellena responded, moving away as Roose neared her.

"You need not fear me," Roose said, his voice never wavering, not raising nor falling. "I will escort you back, a young woman of your beauty should not be leaving her home alone." He offered Ellena his hand, and she took it.

She looked around, "my lord – your horse?" Had he walked from the Dreadfort to Winterfell? That seemed a little extreme even for a Bolton. The very same house known to have a dead man as their sigil.

"She is already in the stables of Winterfell, comfortable no doubt," Roose responded, leading them from the woods and down the Kingsroad back to Winterfell.

She had not seen the Bolton banners nor Bolton men amongst the other houses when she had left, Ellena questioned how he had seen her leave or even found her. He tapped her hand rhythmically and Ellena's eyes moved to their joined hands. She knew better than to question him, so walked in silence. When they were in eyesight of the castle, Ellena noticed the banners of Arryn flying high and a procession making their way into the castle. She wanted to free her hand from Roose's, but his grip tightened as he felt her try to do so. The pair passed the narrow road of Wintertown, many villagers and passers sending them suspicious looks, and finally were at the gates.

Let go you maniac! Ellena had wanted to shout but held her tongue as Roose led them back into the castle. He nodded to the newly arrived and to Ellena's family who had stood in a row to greet Ned as if he were making a show of having her beside him. Rickard gave her a disapproving look, his grey eyes telling her he had seen her walk through the gates with Roose.

"Thank you, my lord," Ellena smiled stiffly, shaking her hand free from Roose's cold and pale ones.

Before the excitement overtook her and before she got a chance to search the disbanding party for Ned, Roose gently took her hand back, this time gripping it tightly. "I hope you will dance with me at the feast."

"Of course, now if you don't mind, I must go greet my brother," she took her hand away forcefully, her pleasant words not doing enough to hide her discomfort.

"What was that about?" A foreign voice sounded behind her. It was deep and sounded identical to Rickard's.

Ellena spun around, looking at the grown man in front of her. Ned. He was much taller now, with hair that reached his neck and stature that showed his age. He wore a grey tunic with a dark coat to match, much different to the thick brown breeches and shirt he had left in. Ellena threw her hands around his neck, squealing as she did so. "Ned!"

Her quiet brother let out a small chuckle, patting her back. "I missed you too." He noted how much Ellena had grown, resembling Rickard most barely. He had greeted his sister, Lyanna and brother, Benjen just before making his way to Ellena. Their father had turned away from him for a brief moment to welcome his escort to Winterfell. Ellena noticed Rickard behind Ned waiting to greet his son and turned Ned around. "Father."

Rickard nodded back to him; he had not changed in the slightest. "I hope you didn't get into too many fights?" He queered, taking Ned's head in his hand and kissing it. Rickard had heard nothing but praise from Lord Jon Arryn about his son but knew Ned would be proud telling him all he had gotten up to himself.

"No, but when I did, I won them all," Ned boasted, remembering his father's words when he had first left Winterfell. He was never one to gloat but believed he had done his father and house proud at the Vale, training with seasoned Knights and beating some as of recently.

Rickard let out a hearty laugh, ruffling his hair, "aye? Good lad."

It seemed her wishes were granted, as the Dustin and Ryswell parties had arrived as soon as the Arryn's were escorted to their designated places. Ellena who had been chattering away with Benjen, Lyanna and Ned, waited impatiently, craning her neck to see where Brandon was. He rode through the gates atop a dark brown horse, he had gotten taller. If that were even possible. Next to him rode a fiery-haired man, Ellena assumed that was William Dustin, the one that their father had said was a bad influence on Brandon.

As the bastard, Ellena had been stood at the end of the line for greetings, now even further that Ned had been added to the mix. Brandon unmounted his horse, handing the reins to a stable boy and making his way over to his father. Behind him followed Dustin's and Ryswell's bowing to Rickard and shaking the hands of the children as they went along.

She felt her knees go weak and legs become wobbly as Brandon's body stood in front of her. He pulled her into a hug gruffly, and they both let out sighs.

"Gods, you look beautiful," Brandon whispered to her, kissing her cheek as they parted.

Ellena noticed his wear; breeches, a tunic, a woollen jacket, a belt with a sword at the side and as always, a coat. The only thing that had truly changed about him was his size, having grown taller and wider. His hands were the size of her face, and Ellena felt herself grow weak at the thought. It most certainly was the wolfs-blood that had aged him so, the blood that their father had appointed to Lyanna and Brandon.

"It's good to see you in flesh," Ellena smiled, patting his shoulders and taking her hands away from his body awkwardly.

Ned, who had been speaking to William, looked down the line to see who was holding it up. What on...

Brandon placed a kiss on her forehead before moving away to allow Lord Dustin the chance to greet her. Ellena smiled, bowed and gave those who took her hand the usual pleasantries, how was your trip, we are glad to see you safe, I hear the town is well.

"What was that?" William asked Brandon once he had finished his greetings.

"My sister whom I missed greatly," Brandon shrugged back, wanting to make his peer feel as if the question was outlandish. William nodded back slowly in response.

The slim figure of Barbrey Ryswell came to Ellena, smiling at the younger girl. "Hello, Lady Snow," Barbrey said, her words cold and sharp. Ellena felt unworthy standing in front of the tall girl. Her hair was twisted into a simple Southern-style, unlike her own, and her dress favoured her body brilliantly.

Ellena was the only one wearing a dress in her family, Lyanna having chosen to wear her usual leather breeches and shirt, layered with a tunic and golden belt. It was a surprise Rickard hadn't forced Lyanna into one, but it seemed he had given up. Everyone knew her as a wild-wolf anyway and she was young still.

"Lady Ryswell," Ellena smiled back, she had been taught by her Septa to never engage in hostile words with other ladies, so that exactly what she was to do. "How did your journey fare?"

"Fine, thank you," they were the last two left to greet each other, so the line had now dispersed. Barbrey looked behind Ellena, watching as Brandon played around with his natural siblings. "Brandon has told me much about you."

"Good things I hope," Ellena joked, wanting to leave the conversation with Barbrey. What is it with unwanted words today? She thought to herself, waiting on the Ryswell girl's response.

Barbrey cocked her head to the side, "some were." She smiled at Ellena once more, the same stiff smile as before, and moved away.

...

The Great Hall had been transformed to hold a great feast, with the houses in attendance having their banners proudly hung high around the room as well as those of high rank being seated at the lords' table. Ellena enjoyed the sight, the hundreds of feasting lords and ladies, as well as their households, dressed in fine wear and dining to their heart's contents. The room was loud with chatter and music, the brightly lit room smelled of all sorts of meats; veal, chicken, beef, rabbit and ham. Ellena recalled how Rickard and Benjen had gone hunting a sennight before the feast, leaving a whining Lyanna behind to complain to her sister.

They hadn't had a feast in so long, but she couldn't eat all the food in front of her, especially not have eating more lemon cakes than her stomach could take.

Brandon, who had been sat next to her, had kept one hand on her thigh for the duration of the night. He was talking with his father, William and Lord Dustin about a lesson on castle minding he had learnt. Ellena had tried to ignore it, laughing along with Ned as Lyanna tried to throw a cut of veal at Benjen.

"What of Robert?" Lyanna asked Ned they all knew that their father planned on making the betrothal official that night, as well as toasting to Ned's health, and Lyanna wanted to know all about the boy she was promised to.

"Ooo, wanting to know about your betrothed. This is very unlike you Lyanna," Ellena teased. Lyanna stuck her tongue out, threatening her with the same punishment that Benjen had received.

Ned grimaced, unsure of how to tell her the truth without making Robert look like an insatiable sex-crazed man. "He is ..."

"He is ...?" Lyanna asked him, raising one brow.

"He is a good man, and I'm sure you'll like him when you meet him," Ned responded. That was good enough for Lyanna, she nodded back to Ned and smiled to herself. At least he had not said anything outrageous.

As the night went along, the music began to grow louder, and tables were pushed together to make space for a bigger dancing area. Benjen stood from his seat, mouth full of food, and threw a grape towards Ned to try and take his attention from talking with Lyanna.

"Oi!" Rickard shouted over the loud musicians and their instruments, "those are expensive Benjen." Benjen huffed, stuffing one into his already full mouth and leaving the table.

Ellena had finally mustered the courage to pull Brandon from his many conversations, he was always one to be energetic in talking, but it surprised Ellena that he wasn't showing her any notice. "How did Barrowton treat you Brandon?" she asked him, craning her neck to get his attention with her face.

Brandon turned his head around, patting her thigh, his hand hadn't moved as of yet. "It treats me well, and Winterfell?" Brandon said, pulling a plate from beside him and taking as much food as he saw fit.

He had just eaten! He poured a cup of ale, swinging back in one gulp, he poured another.

Ellena watched him with slightly wide eyes, "are they feeding you?" she asked him, nudging Brandon playfully. Brandon laughed, chewing his food and wiping his lips. "Winterfell is well. I have heard from Ned all his stories of the Vale and the Moon Door – has he told them to you yet?"

"It sounds gruesome," Brandon said, shivering at the thought of falling from such heights.

"And I am lucky father went back on his words of turning me to a Septa." He had already known that though, they had sent letters to each other frequently enough to know exactly what the other was up to. Well ... Brandon might've kept out certain details here and there.

Their conversation was cut short by Roose, who had stepped up from his seat and was now stood behind them. Brandon subtly took his hand from Ellena's thigh and placed it on his own, not wanting the lord to grow suspicious and have reason to call any attention to them.

"Ellena," Roose called, holding his hand out for her. For a man who was invited to his sworn lords' home to feast and drink, Roose seemed sober. Though he was never known to drink ale, Ellena was sure he'd have at least tried the spiced wine on offer. She had had a little bit of it, and it tasted foreign, far too exotic for Winterfell. "I remember a dance being promised earlier."

She nodded her head, standing from her seat and taking Roose's hand. She had promised to dance with him and was looking forward to dancing, either way, this would be her first feast as a woman grown. Perhaps this would show Brandon to ask her for a dance – even if they were siblings – and it would not look that odd.

Rickard watched as his bastard daughter was escorted by Roose onto the dancing area and as he gripped her waist tightly. "Brandon," the inebriated father whispered to his son. "Have they taken a liking to each other?"

Brandon felt his face pale, no amount of ale could make him jest his father's question off. He shrugged, turning to the dancing couple. Ellena let out a squeal as Roose moved her about roughly, and Lyanna snorted watching her sister being flung about. "I don't know," Brandon responded.

"Oh Ned, go save our sister," Lyanna pouted, not wanting Ellena to be in the hands of a Bolton any longer

"You will do no such thing," Rickard told his standing son, his mind turning as he saw a small smile creep on Roose's face. Brandon turned away from the dancing couple and back to the table, his mood souring considerably.

"That is a beautiful dress," Roose told Ellena, she placed her hand on his shoulder to brace herself from the turning and twisting.

"Thank you," she puffed, feeling herself grow hot at the fast-paced dance. It wasn't such a good idea to dance after she had just eaten.

"Did you make it yourself?" Roose asked, trying to make little small talk. The dress was different from the one she had worn earlier and looked confused in style.

Neither Northern nor Southern. Ellena had copied it from a dress she had seen in Lyanna's room but had changed it ever so slightly to show her growing cleavage vaguely. She was experimenting with new designs and patterns, with no motherly figure outside of her Septa to scold her of indecency Ellena took it upon herself to do as she pleased. "I did, is it that badly made?"

Roose chuckled, his pale eyes wandering down her body as he did so. "No, it is just different." She was glad when the musicians ended their song and the two parted to clap and cheer for them. Her fears of Roose, even if they had just come from the words of maids and gossips, still made her question his sanity. Roose escorted her back to her seat, thanking her for the dance and moving away.

"Was he to your liking?" Brandon muttered beside her, tapping his empty ale cup on the table bitterly and clenching his jaw. He hadn't even looked to her as he spoke.

Ellena frowned at his words but couldn't respond as behind her, the heir to Bear Island, Jorah Mormont stood with a smile on his face.

"I will not end the night without a dance, my lady. I promise to be much more gentle than Lord Bolton," Jorah laughed, his eyes twinkled and cheeks were flushed red from drink and heat.

She grinned at the young lord, "well then man up and do something about it," Ellena whispered to Brandon before standing back up and taking Jorah's hand. There was no need for his harsh words and if he had wanted to speak with her than he would have paid more attention to her than William Dustin. "Aye I hope you will be gentle," she said, and Jorah chuckled.

...