The Duty of a Family

Dyana had received another letter from her family in Starfall, congratulating her on her marriage to Prince Tommen Baratheon, they always reminded her not to make the same mistakes as her mother, the mistakes that made her Lady of Winterfell and bride of the prince second in the line of succession. She understood the world she was born into, a world where she had to obey and follow the laws of kings and lords, the world that told her how to live her life and that her only obligation was to continue the houses that have ruled Westeros since the beginning of her life, since the day that Garth Greenhand set off towards unknown lands.

She could not be like Ser Alvyn Wynfall, who had a brave and honorable father, who gave his life so that he could train in arms with Ser Rodrik Cassel and slowly walk the path of a skilled warrior and receive the fruits of years of hunting wildlings, bandits, rapists and all sorts of criminals when he finally became a knight, made a knight by King Robert himself when he defeated Jaime Lannister in the jousts. She could only go to Casterly Rock under the tutelage of Tywin Lannister and give little golden lions to Prince Tommen when he became a man like Jon, Tyron, Robb and Ser Alvyn.

The knight was not unknown to him, he still remembers when he was twelve years old and Ser Alvyn, being two years older, captured rabbits, squirrels, moles and other animals with soft skin, stripped them of their fur and leather, made hats for the blizzards, gloves for playing in the snow and her favorites were boots, capes and coats. He also sent the meat to the kitchen and the cooks made delicious pies and soups. She had seen, still in the arena's stands, Jon and Tyron enter his tent and then leave with Tyron handing Jon a bag apparently containing coins. After that, Alvyn won like never before even in the qualifiers, where he seemed to learn how to handle a jousting spear.

Today Alvyn looked more reserved, in his black plate armor with his house banner: a white shooting star on a dark background. Much like the Dayne sigil. The lady noticed the similarity and asked the knight.

"Do you have a great appreciation for my mother's house, Alvyn?"

The knight remained next to Lady Dyana, who was embroidering a golden lion on a red background, sitting in an armchair stuffed with animal skins, hunted by Alvyn. He swallowed hard and replied.

"I unfortunately don't have creativity, my lady, I like the stories about Arthur Dayne and I decided to praise his house"

Lady Dyana laughed at her words but still embroidered the golden lion.

"You've always been a terrible liar, Alvyn. Remember when I asked about those rabbits, the ones Ser made me cozy mittens with?"

Dyana's words flushed Alvyn's cheeks, and he swallowed again.

"I said that I had found a couple of little rabbits, old and dead from old age. I found them with their cold bodies in the forest and I made gloves from them for the blizzard that would come that night"

Dyana Stark looked at Alvyn with her violet eyes, smiled at his embarrassment and answered him.

"I already knew that you hunted and killed animals. I just wanted to know how you would react to my question. You ran to Ser Rodrik who slapped you for giving gifts to me, the granddaughter of the late Lord Stark and after a suitable punishment, Jon intervened and allowed his gifts to please me, even though there would never be a response to his love."

Ser Alvyn clenched his fists, enraged by the memory of never being able to have the lady of Winterfell as his own, for now she would be betrothed to a golden prince and he was just a dark commoner.

"Yes, Lady Stark"

Alvyn said without emotion in his voice

"However, I have earned the honor of being your sworn sword. I may not be Prince Tommen with his gold and the chance to inherit the kingdom. But I am a fair knight to my lady."

Dyana continued to weave the threads, finishing the lion's tail.

"Don't give up, Ser Alvyn Wynfall"

The lion was complete, golden and standing on both paws, roaring at the world.

"Lord Arryn has died but in King's Landing there are no deaths of convenience and a man who has a maester like Pycelle at his disposal would know his end is lurking."

"I don't understand Lady Stark"

Alvyn asked, he didn't care about the game of lords and how the board was below the Neck.

"Jon Arryn died by someone's hand. He meddled too much in Lannister affairs, which led to his death and the only way for Tywin Lannister to resolve the next conflict that will shake Westeros again"

Lady Stark felt the cloth with the Lannister lion, her expression serious and her complexion tense. She feared the lion of the west, the one who united the seven kingdoms in fear of her own person. Lord Tywin massacred the Reyne's, Tarbeck's, Darkling's and the Targaryens.

What would Ned Stark be to him?

It would be calling the kingdoms to yet another war in the Riverlands, pillaging and plundering villages, massacring men and women. All for power. Just like the Dance of Dragon's, all it takes is for the king to die and everyone throws themselves at the necks of their closest enemies, until only the frightened children survive.

"This could be your chance, Alvyn, join the battlefield with the Wolf Horde, kill commoners armed with swords made in Lannisport and capture Westerlander nobles, make a name for yourself, receive land, care for it and then come to my brother to receive his other prize. Prince Tommen Baratheon's widow as his wife"

Dyana got up from the armchair, went to the lit fireplace and threw the embroidery into the flames, watching it burn slowly before turning to a certain Being Alvyn Wynfall, her eyes shed tears as clear as morning dew. Dyana pulled her dress down, revealing her slender body and approaching Alvyn, she grabbed his dry lips and threw him onto the armchair.

Dasa district was the last in Tentown. Built and delimited by Lord Draneh Wyce, it was the poorest and most populous region of the gigantic town. There lived farmers, minor servants and criminals on the run. Dasa was the most wronged daughter of the ten daughters who named each region of the city, however, it was in Dasa that Saul had fun, playing dice with embezzlers and gangs of bandits, betting on dog or man fights, taking part in troubles in taverns, buying smuggled merchandise from Essos, fucking the most skilled Widow's Hug prostitutes in that region or going to the lowest quality brothels.

He liked the smell of desperation in Dasa and especially Tyrion Lannister's desperation when visiting the last city of Tentown. Since their arrival, Saul and Tyrion have been to every region of the largest city in Westeros. Starting in Frostport where they drank until they woke up on the stony beaches on the edge of the harbor. Then they went to Grinnora, Gilnora, Arnehild, Dayah, Mirie, Velwyn, Ygwen, Ulestin, Hadis and ended up in an alcoholic coma in Dasa.

To do this, they dressed appropriately for the most dangerous district: Saul wore a doublet made of fermented brown leather, green trousers made of thick linen and at his waist a steel sword made in a castle without great details but with a clean and cruel cut. Tyrion wore a black leather doublet, thick brown pants and carried a small dagger that covered the entire length of his withered legs. He became accustomed to walking through the stone mosaics of the former districts, smelling the good smells of the taverns and inns, with children playing in the streets and older women carrying their wooden basins loaded with clothes to the public washers. However, Dasa was dirty, the stone mosaics were stolen and only the muddy floor remained, there were no children in Dasa, even bastards were taken to Moat Cailin for the Wolf Horde in training for defense and hunting of slavers who would go beyond the wall, in Hardhome. The women were in the majority, prostitutes working in brothels, the gangs dominated all the regions except those of the Jolly Woman's Gate that would go to Hadis, as there were Wyce soldiers already bought with a lot of gold by Sunhall, they were incorruptible.

"Are you sure they're really incorruptible?"

Tyrion asked, looking at the gate behind him and the men laughing at his uneven gait.

"I don't think those men are honest and honorable"

Saul laughed and stroked the dwarf's dirty gold hair.

"They are not, imp, they are greedy and disgusting men. From the worst group of northern men, all these damned people belong to the Wall"

Tyrion slapped Saul's hand, not liking how intimate he had become with the youngest of the Wyce house.

"But by the grace of the gods, House Wyce has gold and their families with swords pointed at everyone's throats should these men disobey Orwen's orders."

Saul laughed loudly and Tyrion smirked.

"My father would gladly give all the gold in Casterly Rock to have an heir like his brother, Saul, I think that was why he gave Tommen's hand to Lady Stark."

The dwarf said and Saul agreed.

"Lady Stark is no fool, my dear dwarf friend, she is as perceptive and intelligent as Orwen. She has yet to lose to him at Cyvasse, even though Orwen is paying masters from Braavos in this little game to teach him the best tactics"

Tyrion looked sideways at Saul, he had tried to get something out of Lady Dyana Stark these last fourteen days with the young heir, but it had not been fruitful, at least until that moment.

"Does that mean Lady Stark won't let herself be carried away by my nephew's charms?"

Tyrion sighed in mock helplessness.

"Poor boy, he will be a collared lion, his claws will be cut and his mane combed. A disgrace for my father..."

Saul laughed at the words and Tyrion continued.

"But the queen will appreciate her daughter-in-law, she has always been a different kind of lady, preferring to gain political power like the good Queen Alyssane than to embroider dresses and pray to the Seven like Naerys. With enough power, Lady Stark can gain tax exemption for Frostport and White Harbor"

Saul tilted his head to the side and nodded slightly. They entered a tavern, the sound of instruments playing was loud and the room filled like a warm den in winter, the smell of beer mixed with the wine and the wooden mugs banged against each other and on the tables before Fall on the floor. Tyron feared the appearance of the men but enjoyed the smell of beer and meat cooking behind the barkeep's counter.

"I agree with you, Tyrion Lannister, but Dyana is not the kind of northerner who is direct and prefers to ride, hunt and bathe in frozen rivers like most. She hunts and rides but prefers to wear warm leathers and furs as dresses sewn and adorned in jewels, the guy Alvyn who defeated his brother in the jousts is a hunter who makes each of Dyana's clothes. She is a proud and cruel woman, she doesn't mind seeing you crawling in the mud so that she can step over her body, the clean part obviously"

Saul raised his fingers to form a three toward the tavern keeper who nodded and ordered beer and a whole roast chicken to be sent to Saul and Tyrion.

"She's the kind of wolf who would rather send her leader and pack out hunting for stag meat than breed and bathe in perfumes and silk."

"A shame that lions surround her in Lannisport and even more so in Casterly Rock"

Tyrion removed a wing and Saul removed a thigh.

"A lone wolf does not migrate alone, Tyrion"

Saul laughed and Tyrion too but with etiquette not a sincere laugh.

"Yesterday's beer clouds my thinking"

Tyrion said and Saul replied:

"Lady Stark is not the first to go west and there are wolves in Lannisport"

Winterfell fell from grace, on the last day of King Robert's stay, Brandon Stark plummeted from an empty Watchtower to crash to the ground, his small, broken body uncovered thanks to the howls of his nameless wolf. Lord Eddard Stark of Moat Cailin, had been called from the hunt he had participated in with King Robert in Wolfswood and returned in haste to Winterfell, where little Bran was being treated by the maester and Essosi healers of House Wyce of Frostport.

Jon has always liked Bran, no less than Arya and certainly Sansa but he liked him on the same level as Robb, at least before Ned Stark took Theon Greyjoy as a political hostage and he got too close to the Ironborn. But Bran never showed affection for Theon as he does for Jon, he felt in Bran the innocence he could never have as a child, as heir to the North and son of his father, who was loved by all the people. Seeing the boy fighting for his life, lying on a bed like a motionless sack of cloth, made him feel that terrifying chill that ran down his back as he entered the crypts of Winterfell. He felt scared about his cousin's future and what his life would be like when he woke up. There was still Heartapple left, at least half of a wineskin, that one was for him but desperation made him give it to Bran.

Ghost, his Direwolf, found after the arrest and execution of a Watch deserter, along with his brothers next to his mother who died with stag horns piercing her neck, lay down on top of his feet, he was already big like a normal dog and when he sneaked through the snow, he was unnoticeable to anyone. Bran's wolf had no name, he called it whatever and he would, it could be the Warg blood coursing through his veins, he thought, just like he and Robb who dreamed of being in the body of Ghost and Greywind respectively. The wolf bonded with him, and so the wolf felt his companion's distress and howled into the night. He howled for days after the fall and didn't stop, just to rest but he always came back.

Jon sat down on his spacious bed, removed his boots, and lay there to hear the wolf howl into the night again. His uncle Ned would be the hand of the king, Sansa the next queen, he the lord of Winterfell and Robb the ruler of Moat Cailin, Tyron would be with him but until his brother Orwen or lord Garvy called him to Sunhall, he would go with the little Waylar. Even Arya would return to White Harbor, learn to sail with lord Wyman Manderly, deceiving Lady Catelyn, who thought her daughter would be taught by septas how to behave like a southern lady. Dyana will live in Lannisport, with the Lannister branch that had the most connection with the Wyce through previously formed marriages. She will be a princess and he will be a lord of the largest kingdom of the seven kingdoms, even though she wants the position.

Jon still lying down, closed his eyes to rest from that long day, another long day would begin with the rooster crowing and he needed rest. However, he heard a knock on the door, it was loud but it belonged to small hands. There was a big, strong guard on the other side, guarding his lord, Jon thought about where he was and realized the danger. He reached under the pillows and picked up a dagger that had always been there, on the recommendation of Garvy Wyce himself. He approached the door, with a firm grip on the hilt of the blade, he looked to the side and saw Ghost, silent and with his ears pointed up with his tail slightly wagging. Jon realized a while ago that Ghost recognized danger and the way he was saying that one of her brothers was on the other side, he kept the dagger in his hands and turned the handle, still expecting the worst. But what he saw was pearl white, bright red falling like a waterfall, like a rubyfall and sky blue staring at him with embarrassed blush all around.

"Jon"

She said.

"Sansa"

He replied. With the dagger in hand, the grip loosened and Lady, the affectionate Direwolf approached Ghost, entering the room and welcoming her brother.

"Do you have something important to tell me?"

Jon behaved like Lord Stark in front of the crown prince's now fiancée, not the cousin who in his heart lived in that region where the heartbeat is unregulated.

"I..."

She stuttered.

"Yes, I have"

Jon gestured for her to continue.

"I... I like you, Jon Stark"

Jon felt his breath hitch, his mind clouding like wine mixing with clear water.

"I've liked you since the day Father brought you to Moat Cailin, when I was told you were my cousin and that someday I could marry you, to keep alive the house that ruled the north for millennia..."

Sansa approached her cousin, touching his cheeks, running her hand over his neck and then stroking his wavy locks.

"...I hate the prince... He is not noble like you, he is not kind and intelligent. He depends on that Hound to be his strength, he is not a lion... You are not one, you are a wolf, Jon, I want to be your wife"

Sansa brought her pink lips closer to his, and they touched tenderly, exchanging body heat in that sudden and clearly sincere union.

"Your father, the king, and any lord who benefits from your marriage will be upset if we do this, Sansa."

Jon responded by warning, but his sincere hands traveled over his cousin's body, going from her developing breasts, to her abdomen, then to her intimate area, passing his fingers over the moist area and resting on the twin mounds of her buttocks that perked up at her touch. He exchanged kisses with her with every sentence.

"Fuck them"

She answered.

"This is your fault, my lady"

Jon took her to bed, tore off her cotton dress.

That night, Jon and Sansa sincerely exchanged their mutual feelings.