Chapter 1
Lexa Stark was drunk. She had never been very partial to the mead served at Winterfell, an attribute she had inherited from her northern father. The Starks had always been noted for their vigilance and preparedness, traits Lexa valued too much to let alcohol inhibit. But tonight was a special case.
“Lex”, a soft, anxious voice drew her from out of the depths of her cup. She attempted to ignore the way the main hall swirled and blurred as she focused on the blonde, fur-clad child beside her.
“What, Aden?” her voice came out harsher than she had intended.
The younger boy bit his lip, and a slightly timid look stole over his features as he played with the ends of his blonde curls. Lexa sighed and attempted to gain some semblance of control over her tone. She knew her brother only ever played with his hair when he was anxious, and she felt instantly chastened at the idea that she was making the night harder for him.
“Sit down”, she murmured, gentler this time, as she patted the empty spot beside her on the bench. Aden complied, shuffling forward along the flagstones and then plopping down beside her.
“What is it?” she asked as he turned to face her, making little effort to reign in his sniffling as he did so.
“Do you have to go, Lexa? I was thinking that maybe if we went and talked to father together, we could get him to change his mind about King’s Landing. You could just tell him that you don’t have any interest in leaving and that you don’t want to get married, and that Octavia can take care of herself” he broke off cheeks flushed, and the beginnings of a hopeful smile on his lips. Lexa resisted the urge to take another long sip from her drink. She had imbibed quite enough, and she owed it to Aden to be as present as she could for him.
“Aden, I understand that this will be difficult for you”, she struggled to find the right words to comfort him and leave him feeling stronger than ever, “but I have a duty to father and to Winterfell, just as you do being a Stark. As much as this pains me to part with you, the North’s interests require greater representation at King’s landing if we are to prepare for the winter going forward. Our people need me to do this, and who am I to refuse?”
“Then let me go with you!” Aden cried, burrowing closer to Lexa and slipping his thin arms around her waist.
“You also have a duty to the North, Aden. Someone needs to stay here and watch over Winterfell, and there’s no one here with more heart than you”. Lexa was proud that she had managed to keep her words from slurring.
Aden’s chin quivered slightly, and a solitary tear made a track down the dust on his face, but he nodded stiffly, still hanging on tightly to his sister.
“I know”, he whispered quietly, and part of Lexa’s heart felt as though it were breaking. She almost felt like crying herself, but that would be absurd. She hadn’t cried since she was five, six at the latest. And besides, someone needed to be strong for all of them, and that burden, as usual fell to Lexa, as the eldest of the Stark children.
“Well, well, well, I just heard the news”, a scathing, sour sounding voice tore Lexa from her thoughts, “Winterfell’s own beloved Khaleesi is planning to play at joining the royal court”.
Lexa looked up into the familiar brown eyes of her best friend, and was only slightly surprised at the intensity of the fire she found within them.
“Anya”, she began, stung at the venom that seemed to flow so freely off the tongue of her companion, “please don’t call me that”.
But Anya merely sneered before sauntering away. Lexa had the sensation that she had been punched somewhere in the stomach. It was one thing for the servants and jealous wards to call her khaleesi behind her back or locked doors, but it was entirely another for her greatest companion to address her so caustically to her face.
Not that Lexa was at all ashamed of her Dothraki mother. In fact, as a girl growing up, nothing had given her more joy than stealing a horse from the stables and riding around with Anya, pretending they were both Khals in their own right. She had even refused to cut her hair until it had grown past her knees, and her father had taken her aside and said it was not becoming for a Stark to act like a savage.
“But mother was Dothraki, and you married her! Was she a savage?” Lexa had shrieked back at him.
Her father had shut down as he always did at the mention of Lexa’s mother, and his face had become entirely impassive.
“Titus, cut her hair off, to the shoulder at least. Hold her down or tie her up if you have to. And Lexa, for the sake of the seven, wipe that paint off of your face. You are a sight to be ashamed of”. He had barked before storming from the room.
After many months, her hair had grown back, and Lexa could almost forget her father’s cruelty. But that was the last time that Lexa had given herself the striking dark war paint around the eyes that she imagined her mother might have worn before she died.
Aden shifted beside her, his small form drawing her again from her memories, “don’t let it get to you, Heda. She’s probably just feeling sad that you’re leaving and she has to stay here like me. She doesn’t mean it. Besides, I think it’s exciting that you’re half Dothraki. It’s loads more interesting than being half Stark, and half Greyjoy”.
Lexa stifled a laugh, and drew her half-brother in closer to her.
“Are you kidding, Greyjoy’s are totally badass” Lexa murmured teasingly into his curls, proud that her brother was becoming so mature.
“Yeah, right. Our emblem is literally a stupid squid”, Aden muttered darkly.
“It’s a kraken, dork. One of the most formidable creatures to inhabit the sea. We’ve been over this.” Lexa deadpanned, sliding to her feet.
For a moment she had to steady herself against the long wooden table. She definitely needed to watch how much she drank in future.
“Where are you going?” Aden asked suddenly, a concerned look on his face.
“I should probably go find Anya. You know how she is. ”, Lexa explained, struggling to be heard over the din of the feast.
“I wouldn’t”, Aden’s face grew a little pale, “Unless you have a death wish. Last time she was mad at me—remember when I borrowed that dagger from her and then lost it by accident—I swear she almost cut off my hand. And I have a feeling she’s way more angry at you right now than she’s ever been at me”. Aden shuddered slightly at the memory.
“I’ll just have to take my chances”, Lexa smiled, endeared partially by her brother’s concern, and partially by Anya’s impressive reputation. She was friends with the Karstark ward for a reason.
As she stumbled out of the main hall, a cold hand on her shoulder halted her in her tracks.
“Titus”, Lexa exhaled slightly in surprise. The balding man had always set her a little on edge, although her father seemed to trust him completely.
“Alexandria”, Titus inclined his head slightly, his cold eyes scouring Lexa’s with something that Lexa could not discern.
The two stood awkwardly in the doorway for a long moment, and Lexa looked past him into the open-air courtyard, hoping to spy Anya in the faintly falling snow.
“I wanted to wish you luck on your excursion outside the North. And to warn you that the Landing is very different from Winterfell. People are often not what they appear to be at court, especially in times like these”. Titus began in his usual ominous drone.
“Yes, yes, I know. Winter is coming. The political climate in King’s landing is volatile at best, which isn’t helped by the fact that the Targaryen’s have a history of madness, and the bloodline itself is unstable. I’m aware, Titus”, Lexa sighed, impatient to find her friend, and then to get something substantial to drink, if she was going to avoid a hang-over in the morning.
Titus frowned slightly at her, but continued nonetheless, “I am fond of your younger sister, but I think we both know who has more sense between the two of you. You must be vigilant always. Do not let yourself be fooled into complacency. Take care of yourself and Octavia. I fear that we are sending you both into a powder-keg just waiting to go off”.
Lexa nodded stiffly, biting the inside of her cheek before striding past him into the open air. She drew her furs more tightly around her middle as the cold winds hit her. Although she had grown used to the brutal temperatures and constant cold fronts that had come to characterize Winterfell, she still had to brace herself against the chill.
Just as she was rounding the corner to the stables, squinting through the snow that was falling heavier now in the silver moonlight, a strong hand gripped her bicep and dragged her inside. The smell of horseshit and sweet hay hit her nose and she easily twisted out of the grip of her assailant.
“I was looking for you”, Lexa murmured coolly.
Anya snorted, looking away in equal parts disappointment and amusement.
“Well, you were doing a pretty shoddy job of it, Stark. I never thought I would see the day when you got well and truly smashed”.
“Shut up” Lexa quipped, to inebriated to come up with an adequately witty rejoinder.
The two stood together in companionable silence for a few minutes, broken ever so often with the sound of hoofs against the wooden stall doors, or a whinny from one of the mares towards the back.
“Why are you doing this, Lex?” Anya broke at last.
Lexa felt herself lean slightly into the older girl, and allowed herself a moment to close her eyes and just linger in the present.
“I think he’s wants to marry me off”, Lexa whispered at last, still not opening her eyes. Beside her, Anya stiffened.
“What? To who?”
“The Targaryen boy. Coronation should be happening any day now once the Old Dragon dies, and they want their little crown prince wedded and bedded before then”.
“But I thought he was engaged to the Lannister girl. What’s her name again?”
“Clarke”, Lexa murmured, “Her name is Clarke, I think”.
“Right. So what would he want with you? No offense”, Anya continued, and Lexa realized that she was shaking slightly.
“From what I can ascertain, it sounds like the Targaryen’s are realizing that their grasp on the iron throne is getting tenuous. The Old Dragon wasn’t exactly beloved, was he? And the North has always been a formidable ally and a perilous enemy. Father says they’re interested in potentially building ties with Winterfell, given that the Lannister’s are also experiencing a bit of a decline”.
“Shit”, Anya muttered, and Lexa simply nodded.
The two of them stood together, watching as their breath moved off towards the ceiling in delicate clouds.
“Well, from what I’ve heard, the Targaryen prince is actually supposed to be somewhat sane. At least there’s that”, Anya whispered at last, sounding slightly strangled.
“Yeah, I guess we should be thankful he got a Barantheon for a father”, Lexa whispers back. She tries not to think about all the inbreeding that went into making half of the crown prince.
“And he’s descended from the Mother of Dragon’s, right?”
“Sure, but he’s also descended from the Mad King.”
Another long pause followed, in which Anya’s warm hand sought out Lexa’s icy cold one.
“Gods, I’m so sorry Lex”.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I owe it to the North and my people”.
Anya’s fingers tightened their hold on Lexa’s before she whispered in a mangled hush, “What if we just ran for it Lex, just you and me? We could make it to the wall, take the black. You wouldn’t have to wed a potentially psychotic king, and we could spend the rest of our days just serving Westeros. Fighting off wildlings and white walkers. Maybe you could even meet some Dothraki on the other side of the wall”.
“Anya—“, Lexa began, feeling suddenly exhausted.
“Forget your people, Lexa. You know you could never love a man, and that you’re not built for court life.”
Lexa stared in silence at her closest friend, her green eyes heavy with an anguish that she couldn’t seem to voice.
“I can’t Anya. I’m sorry. This is what is best for the North. Even if we don’t end up engaged, I can ensure that the North’s interests are properly represented, and I’ll be able to watch over Octavia while she explores the world outside of Winterfell”.
After another long silence Anya nodded curtly. For a moment, Lexa was sure that she was going to rush off again, abandoning her for a second time in the cold night air, but instead Anya surprised her. She wrapped her long, muscled arms around Lexa’s shoulders and drew her in for a quick embrace.
“Be safe, Heda. I have absolute faith in you”.
“And I you”, Lexa replied into Anya’s thick hair, “Watch over Aden for me?” she asked as the two girls separated.
“Of course. As long as he stops losing my daggers, that is. If he looses one more I can’t guarantee he’ll be around when you return”.
“You better be kidding”, Lexa laughed as the two exited the stables, walking off into the crisp northern night.