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Chapter 8 - BLOOD AND SNOW;THE DIREWOLF'S LEGACY Game of thrones.A song of ice and fire.CHAPTER 1

·GAME OF THRONES

" Blood and Snow: The Direwolf 's Legacy"

CHAPTER 1

Advise : Fragments of the Game of Thrones book were used to carry out this fanfic

since there are certain points that remain the same as the original. Thank you.

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Arya I

The day had dawned fresh and clear, with a invigorating cold that It marked the end of

summer. They set out with the dawn to see the beheading of a man. There were twenty of

them in all, and Arya rode among them, nervous and excited. It was the first time she was

considered sufficiently eldest to accompany her father and brothers to witness the justice of

the king. It was the ninth year of summer and the tenth of Arya's life.

The man had been taken from a small fort in the hills. Robb believed that he was a savage,

who was a beta like everyone beyond the wall, who had put his sword at the service of

Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the-Wall. Arya got excited just thinking about it, because

she remembered well the stories that her old dad told her about the famous betas. Men and

women considered unworthy by all the gods, both new and old, and who therefore did not

inherit the typical characteristics of an alpha or an omega, making them beta. The savages

were cruel, the common people called them, slavers, murderers and

thieves. They mated with giants and evil spirits, they took the children from the cribs in the

middle of the night and drank blood from polished horns, which for that reason had been

condemned to be betas forever, making them easily identifiable when they passed the wall

because they had no smell.

But the man they saw tied hand and foot to the wall of the fort, awaiting the king's justice, he

was old and bony, little taller than Robb. There was lost both ears and a finger in some frost,

and was dressed all in black, like a brother of the Night's Watch, although the furs he wore

were dirty and tattered.

And it gave off a clear smell of fear, so strong that even Arya, standing meters away, could

differentiate it.

The breath of the man and the horse mingled in clouds of vapor in the cold morning when his

lord father had the bonds that tied the man to the wall cut and dragged before it. Robb andJon remained mounted, very still and upright, while Arya, on her mare's back, tried to appear

that he was more than ten years old and that it was not the first time he had seen something

like that. A light breeze blew through the door of the fort. Above fluttered the banner of the

Stark of Winterfell: a direwolf running across an ice-white field. Arya's father stood solemnly

on his horse, his long hair chestnut tree shaken by the wind. He had a very short beard, dotted

with gray, that made him look older than his thirty-five years. That day He wore a grim

expression and Arya, when she had ridden beside him, noticed that his odor that always

smelled like snow in the middle of summer was more like a snow blizzard.

On that cold morning there were questions and answers, but later Arya would not remember

much of what had been said there. At last his lord father gave an order, and two of the guards

dragged the ragged man to a stump hornbeam located in the center of the square. They forced

him to rest his head on the hard black wood. Lord Stark dismounted and Jory Cassel, Captain

of the personal guard of his house, he brought him the sword. It was called Ice. It was as wide

as a man's hand and in upright position was even taller than Robb. The blade was made of

Valyrian steel, forged with enchantments and black as smoke. No edge was comparable to

those of Valyrian steel.

Her father took off his gloves and gavve their to Rodrik Cassel, uncle of Jory and master of

guns in Winterfell, and he brandished Ice with both hands.

"In the name of Robert of House Baratheon, the first of his name, king of the Andals and the

Rhoy Nar and the First Men, lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Kingdom; and

by order of Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Guardian of the North, I sentence

you to death."

He raised the greatsword above his head.

Her father and he cut off the man's head with one blow, firm and sure. The blood, red like

summer wine, splashed on the snow. One of the horses reared and he had to be held by the

reins to prevent him from galloping away. Arya does not could look away from the blood.

The snow that surrounded the stump he drank with greed and turned red before his eyes.

The head bounced off a thick root and continued to roll.

Arya then heard someone approaching and barely stopped from jumping on her mare when a

hand rested on her shoulder making her look at Jon, who offered her a proud smile.

"You did well, like a little alpha."

"Not so little anymore." Arya countered making her half-brother nod.

On the long walk back to Winterfell it seemed to get colder, although the wind had already

ceased and the sun was shining high in the sky.

Arya was riding with her brothers.

"The deserter died a brave man." Robb said.He was strong and corpulent, and it seemed to grow visibly; He had his mother's light skin,

and also the auburn hair and blue eyes of the Tullys of Riverrun, which Sansa said were the

reason why every omega who saw him wanted to marry Robb.

Arya only thought all omegas were idiots, except her mother, Theon and Bran, of course.

"At least I had courage. "

"No." Jon Snow said in a calm voice. "That wasn't courage. He was dead scary. You could

see it in his eyes, Stark."

Jon's eyes were such a dark gray that they almost seemed black, and they focused on

everything, although on this occasion Arya thought she had made a mistake because she also

believed that the man had seemed brave, at least for someone who is going to die without be

able to avoid it.

Jon was about Robb's age, with a difference of almost a year between them, but they were

nothing alike. Jon was slender, and Robb was muscular; He was dark-skinned, and Robb was

red-haired; was agile and light, while his half-brother was strong and fast.

"Let the Others take his eyes." Robb cursed without showing himself impressed. "He died a

man. A race to the bridge?"

"OK." Jon agreed, spurring his mount.

Robb swore and bolted after him, and they galloped together down the trail below. Robb was

laughing and provoking him, and Jon galloped silently and focused. The hooves of their

horses raised clouds of snow.

Arya did not hesitate to follow them, soon joining Jon in Robb's laughter, forgetting for a

moment at least the scene they had just witnessed, but just in a moment Robb stopped

suddenly.

"But what...? Father, Jory, come quickly!"

Arya stopped her mare as did Jon his horse and they both shared a look before getting off,

approaching where Robb was next to a wolf of such size that if it weren't for the fact that she

was already dead, Arya would not have been able to react shocked.

"What is that...? How?"

"She's a direwolf."

"There have never been direwolves to the south the wall."

"Now yes."

Arya listened to her father talk to Jory but her gaze remained on the wolf and Robb when he

approached her, moving the animal revealing six miniature direwolves.Children.

"Direwolves in the kingdom, after so many years," murmured Hullen, the senior groom. "I do

not like this."

"It's a sign," Jory said.

"It's nothing more than a dead animal, Jory," said the children's father with the frown he

seemed worried. The snow crunched under his boots as he walked around the body. " What

killed her?"

"There's something in his throat," Robb pointed out, proud of having found the answered

even before his father asked the question. There, just below of the jaw.

Her father knelt down and felt under the beast's head. He gave a tug, and raised the object for

others to see. It was a fragment of two spans of antler of deer, already without tips, soaked in

blood. There was a sudden silence in the group. The men looked at the flagpole, uneasy, and

no one dared to say anything. Even Arya realized that they were afraid, although she didn't

understand why.

"It's incredible that she lived long enough to give birth," her father said as he threw the

flagpole aside and wiped his hands in the snow. His voice broke the spell.

"Maybe he didn't live that long," Jory said. "It is said... Maybe she was already dead. when

the puppies were born."

"Born from the dead," another man intervened. " Even worse luck."

"It doesn't matter," said Hullen. "Soon they will be dead too."

"No. "Arya finally intervened just as one of the little wolves, a girl, had approached her as

she got off her mare, brushing against her leg. "There are six of their and there are six of us,

we can take them, father." she asked looking at her father before looking at her half brother

for help which, as always, Jon gave her.

"The direwolf is the symbol of your house, my lord. And Theon and I can share the sixth."

Everyone looked at their father to which Arya saw him sigh before letting the silence

lengthen and finally taking two of the puppies in his arms, giving them to Jon, who gave

them to Robb.

"Fine but they will be your responsibility. I will not allow the servants waste your time with

this. If you want those puppies, you will have to feed you. Understood? " Arya nodded

hastily. The cub, which she had bent down to pick up, was she wriggled in her arms and

licked her face with a warm tongue. " Also you will have to educate them," her father

continued. " It is essential that you train them. The dog handler won't want to know anything

about these monsters, he'll tell you. I assure. And may the gods help you if you neglect them,

if you treat them badly or if you do not you train They are not dogs; They will not tease youto get food, nor will they will go if you kick them. A direwolf is capable of ripping off his

arm a man as easily as a dog kills a rat. Are you sure you want that responsibility?"

"Yes, father," Arya said.

"Yes," Robb and Jon agreed.

"And despite everything you do, the puppies may die."

"They won't die," Robb said. " We will not allow it."

" Then you can keep them. Jory, Desmond, collect the rest of the puppies. It's time for us to

return to Winterfell. "

Only when they were back on horseback and moving did Arya allow herself to enjoy the

sweet taste of victory. He carried the puppy between the folds of leather garments to give it

warmth and protect her it in on the long ride of back home. She was wondering what name

she was going to give her.

Maybe....Lyanna as her aut or Elliare...or...not.

Nymeria,...yes, this is perfect name for her.

Nymeria.

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