The Crossed Rose - GoT - R.S.

Lady Stark

A/N: So, this story will roughly follow the show. There might be some changes here and there regarding the books, but nothing too drastic. In any case, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts and opinions - comments and votes are always very much appreciated!

"She was beautiful." Roslin commented, as she sat with Dahlia by a window way up high in one of their towers.

Nodding her head, Dahlia looked out to the fields below them.

"That she was."

And truly, Catelyn Stark was beautiful. With her deep red hair and her bright blue eyes, she looked as much as a Tully as she possibly could. But a Tully she wasn't any longer. No, as she had stood in front of their father just that morning, alone, but brave and proud, Dahlia could tell she had grown stronger and harsher with her years in the North. Now, Lady Catelyn was a Stark. If not by blood, clearly by heart.

Lord Frey had summoned all of his sons and daughters and grandsons and granddaughters. As soon as word that the Lady Stark would be arriving, they had all been ushered to the throne room to receive her and as the woman stood there, trying to talk to dear old Lord Frey, Dahlia could tell she was impressed. Perhaps impressed wasn't really the word. She was more... Shocked. And Dahlia couldn't blame her, really. It was one thing hearing about Lord Frey's many marriages and children. It was another entirely to see it. And yet another to walk into a room filled to the brim with enemies and stand tall to their patriarch.

Yet, Lady Stark had done it beautifully, acting like the true wolf she had grown to be in her time at Winterfell.

There she had stood, in place of her son, asking Lord Frey to let them pass by their bridge and they'd be on their way. On their way to King's Landing, most likely. Their way to Lord Stark. On their way to the Lannisters.

Lady Catelyn had asked for their gates to be opened. In exchange, no harm would come to Lord Frey or his family. It was said that Robb Stark had an army of 20.000 men just outside their castle towers and Dahlia was sure they could breach their walls should they want to.

And as she looked out into their camp, set not too far away as the white banner with the direwolf of the North wavered in the air, Dahlia wasn't entirely sure why they wouldn't.

"Sister?" Roslin called gently, snapping Dahlia out of her own thoughts as she turned to look at her instead. "What are you looking at?"

"The Stark's camp." Dahlia said, sending Roslin a small smile before pointing out the banners through the tower's window. "You see there? The wolf? That's the Starks sygyl. Winter is coming is their words. A warning."

"A warning for what?" Roslin asked quietly.

Dahlia stopped then, turning back to look at her little sister as she took her in. So small. So young... only thirteen years of age and she had just bled the moon before. She was a woman now, but everytime Dahlia saw her, she saw nothing but her baby sister. A baby sister she hadn't even met until two years before, since she wasn't even born when Dahlia was sent away, but a sister that had become her closest friend ever since leaving Margeary behind.

And Dahlia knew Roslin was still young. She still had time to learn and she would. But since their father didn't make an effort for his daughters to have the education they deserved, Dahlia was sure Roslin hadn't even heard the Stark words before. So, in a way, Dahlia had been lucky to have been sent away to Highgarden at such a young age because there, she grew with the Tyrells. She played with them, she feasted with them, she learned with them. The best Maesters and the best Septas, always ready to give Margaery and Dahlia as much knowledge as they could and as much as they would take. And Margaery Tyrell had taught Dahlia Frey never to refuse knowledge along with a very important lesson.