Disclaimer: I do not own GRRM nor David Benioff and D.B. Weiss's creations, I simply plan to build off of the lovely vision all three have created in books and television. This is my first dabble into the GOT universe, so bare with me and hopefully you enjoy the ride!

Prologue

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?"

Edgar Allan Poe

There were two sets of cries that day; one of a babe and the other from her father. Jory Cassel's cries however, were not ones of joy as many would suspect, but were instead those of anguish. It had been a day he and his wife Elianna had been waiting for nine months for, and it had not ended as they had expected.

It was thought to have gone smoothly, and after the birth the couple would have their beautiful baby to complete their family. But no, the Old Gods had a different sort of fate in store for the Cassel's. Many people in Winterfell came to pity Jory Cassel that summer's day, for not too long before that he had learned of his father Martyn's death. Many had hoped that things would get better the youngest Cassel, and with the proclamation that Elianna Cassel was starting the birthing process, everyone figured things would get better. Perhaps this was to be Martyn Cassel, the second of his name.

The pregnancy was not a breeze for Elianna as much has she prayed to the Old Gods that it would be. Elianna hailed from House Stane, and at the ripe age of three and ten summers was sent to Winterfell in order to become a proper lady and marry "the young Cassel boy," as her parents told her so.

The city and stronghold was a far cry from Skagos and their clans, but in ways it was not so different. The weather was certainly similar, and though the temperature was far less bitter, she found herself absolutely pleased that the snow continued to fall here on the mainland. People lived in homes that looked different from that on Skagos, yet they worshipped the same Gods in the same manner, all tales of sacrifice and cannibalism was nothing but hogwash and legend.

Maybe it had been like that in the days of the First Men, but the clans of Skagos had all but changed to much more civilized ways, but the gossips on Westeros and of the North would have none of that. No, even the Pooles, from which the Cassels arranged her to stay with and train her as a "proper" lady, would whisper about her when they thought she was sleeping.

She had proved them wrong though; she was excellent at needlepoint, her etiquette nearly perfect, and speech as prompt and proper as it should be. Yes it would seem that the "Skagg" woman was proving to be a surprise to all of those whom encountered her. Jory Cassel, though wary of her at first, had always been kind and dutiful to Elianna and when he began to show more interest in her, well, she was pleased with herself. She vowed when she was under that Weirwood Tree that she would be the most dutiful of wives, the most loving and understanding, and she had done so up until her last moments.

The day the Cassel's found out they were to have a child was a happy one for them. The two had been trying for years to conceive a child, and when the time finally came it was like a blessing from the Gods. Elianna's family even stated that they would come to visit once the babe was born, whom she had only seen briefly on her wedding day.

"We shall name him Martyn, for my father," Jory told his wife late one night as he ran his hands over her ever expanding womb, "he will be a brave warrior as his grandfather is."

Elianna simply sent her husband a bright yet sleepy smile, silently adoring her husband's pride in his father. How she had gotten so lucky to have been married off to a loving, kind man such as Jory? The Old Gods truly were watching over her.

"And he will be your spitting image; raven hair and eyes of ice blue. We will be the envy of every parent in Winterfell, our gorgeous child." His enthusiastic musing were tarnished with tired undertones, and a yawn that could make a lion cringe.

The couple remained in a pleasant silence until Elianna felt her husband slip off into a deep slumber, his arms and hands still tenderly touching her womb where the baby was growing. Before she went to blow out the last candle lighting their bedside, Elie pressed a soft kiss to Jory's forehead.

"If it is a girl, I – I'd like to call her Alerie." It was a mere whisper in his ear, and Elianna blew the candle out before she could even wonder if he had heard her or not.

xxx

Jory Cassel considered himself a rather carefree and jovial individual, and despite his wife's mood swings he retained that nature about him. Being one of the Guards of House Stark was not an easy one, especially with the Lord of Winterfell gone along with a majority of the Guard. Nevertheless, he tried his hardest not to skimp on his duties as a husband when he returned home. This usually entailed a great deal of listening, a task that he never really minded, but when he was tired and Elianna was having one of her mood swings it often proved to be difficult.

His father had told him being a husband would be one of the most difficult yet rewarding jobs he would ever encounter. How right he was; when he had wished to help Elie off of her swollen feet, she had cursed in Old Tongue (no doubt directed at him), before bursting into tears that he thought her weak because she was a woman. Dumbstruck, Jory would usually let his wife vent before she tired herself out and simply allowed him to help her. It was a vicious cycle, which often led him to be tired the following morning, but he persevered because it was the honorable and right thing to do.

He did in fact love his wife, he just had not told her this yet. He knew from experience that many arranged marriages had ended up with both parties loving each other. When he had first met Elianna, he had still been a boy, and an incredibly nervous one.

Jory was of course drawn in by her looks, she was a classic beauty of the North, but what really struck him was how elegant she was. He was no exception to holding judgments and biases upon the Skagosi, and he half expected his bride-to-be to be a flesh-eating savage that only spoke in the Old Tongue. But no, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the young Skane daughter was elegant, eloquent, and well read. She was quite the jewel, and as he began to court her (as his father told him he should despite the betrothal) he found himself wanting to know more and more about her.

It is when she became pregnant did he realize he loved his wife. Jory wanted to burst those words to her when she told him the news, but instead he bit his tongue. He did not know why he did that, halt from professing his love like other husbands did, but it was just how it worked out in that moment.

If anything he was nervous that she would reject him, and why wouldn't she? She was beautiful, intelligent, she could even shoot an arrow far better than him, and Gods knew that she would hardly need him to love her. The Guard did not know this as a truth, but what he knew was a truth was that he needed her like he needed air and water. She was his light; her laughter alone enough to lift his spirits on a weary day, and now she was giving him the greatest gift a wife could give a husband, a child.

Jory did the best he could while Elie was pregnant to comfort her and shower her with affection. He may not have been able to physically say the words 'I love you,' but he thought that perhaps in this case actions could really speak louder than words. Every morning before he was off to go about his duties in Winterfell he tried to fix her up a nice breakfast. The key word here is tried.

Despite his most valiant efforts, anything he tried to cook ended up burnt and in pieces. He would then run to the market to pick up something sweet for her, kiss his wife goodbye, and leave before she even woke up. Breakfast in bed every morning for her, and every evening when he would see the sweet eaten he would smile to himself. He just hoped he was being a good husband and one that she would grow to love as he did her. He knew it would take more than just gifts to be a good husband, even a loving one, but he hoped that she knew he was trying his hardest.

Robert's Rebellion was proving to be much longer than Jory anticipated it would, but he should have known better. Wars were not won in a matter of days, no it would take much longer, but he guessed he was just anxious for his father to return from battle. He had only been able to write him once by raven, to tell him that he was to be a grandfather, but he had never gotten a reply back. It had not been said that he had been slain, so he had high hopes that either the raven carrying the letter was lost to Westeros or there was too much battle occurring for him to actually reply properly.

He had yet to move into the Stark household as his uncle Rodrick and father had done; Jory stated he would wait until the baby was born and he wanted to spend as much alone time with his wife as possible. He was there enough as it was, and even Elianna would occasionally venture there, more oft than not to converse with Lady Stark, whom herself was with child.

He was incredibly thankful of Catelyn's kindness towards his wife, because he knew that deep down she was every bit as wary as the other people of Winterfell were towards the Skagosi woman. All of that aside, she was nothing but gracious and pleasant towards Elianna, and the two seemed to forge a small friendship in dealing with their pregnancies. Lady Stark was due much earlier before Elie, but not terribly so, and every time he went to check on his Goodwife they were always talking about how their children would be the best of friends and inseparable. Yes, Elianna had found a confidant in Lady Stark, and for that alone Jory would be forever grateful.

He was out in the Godswood when he received word that his father had perished in battle. Never in all of his years had he expected to father to die; yes he knew the time would come like it did for them all, but to think of such a grim subject was beyond him. But now, it was flung into his face, a very real fact that he could not change despite all of his wishes and prayers.

He remained frozen in his spot after he received the news; seemingly dead to the world as he stared on into the eyes of the weirwood, carved eyes crying the tears he had yet to shed. Elianna had fetched him later that night, before the sun had fallen, the woman of nine months pregnant taking him into her arms and whispering soothing words in Old Tongue into his ear. The pain heavy in his heart and on his shoulders wanted him to drown in its depths, yet Elie stayed with him, kept him above the waters of despair.

And then he cried in her arms.

xxx

Winterfell seemed to be nothing but a haze of bittersweet feelings; its people and all of those loyal to the Starks disillusioned. The war had ended; the Mad King was no more and Lyanna Stark's kidnapper was vanquished. All should have been as right as a fairytale, yet that was not what the Gods had just planned. The she-wolf was dying, that much was told to the citizens, but it was the waiting that pained them. And even though her beloved Robert was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms, of the Realm of Westeros, some felt as though the battle was all for naught.

Jory Cassel and his wife Elianna were one of the many that believed this was otherwise. Despite the loss of his father, a death he was still grieving, he still had his uncle, he still had Elie, and soon a new edition to the Cassel family. It may have been a time of uncertainty, but both he and his wife were thankful that their child would be born after the war. The child would grow during a peaceful time in Westeros, where winter had not yet come.

He thanked the Gods for that every morning and night.

"I think – I think it's happening!"

Elianna was seated in their small living quarters, hunched over when Jory had arrived home. Apparently the birth pains had been increasing in intensity and length of time. His father had told him that would happen, and when it did to fetch the maester. In a panic, Jory dashed out from the home and fetched Maester Luwin, who slowly followed the speeding father to be.

When the two men had reached Elie it was truly a sight to see. And by sight to see, it really was quite gruesome. There was a large pool of blood around her legs, and she was letting out cries of anguish. Sweat had doused her skin and she was sucking in air as though she had been deprived it her whole life.

"Maester Luwin, wha – " but before Jory could continue, the elder pushed him aside, making a beeline straight for the Skagosi woman.

"I've seen this before, but we need to deliver quickly or it will be traumatic for both the baby and Elianna." Luwin immediately got to work, shooing Jory to sit with his wife and help her relax and calm despite the extraordinary pain she was clearly in.

"Love, I need you to look at me, can you do that?" Elianna complied, but not without giving her husband a sharp look as a wave of intense pain hit her.

Time seemed to meld together as Jory continued to try and calm Elie down, breathing with her in a soothing rhythm while the maester tried his best to control the bleeding that was occurring. So far he was having no luck, and although the baby seemed to be intent to try and push its way out, the cervical opening did not seem like it could stretch much further.

"Elianna, dear, I need to make a cut in order to help the baby out. I would give you Milk of Poppy, but I'm afraid with the state you're in right now, it will do more harm then good." The woman let out an anguished cry before nodding her head, Jory kissed her forehead, eyes widened in worry.

"Maester, isn't there anyth – " but the young Cassel was cut off by the elder man giving him a wild and distressed look.

"I've tried all I can, this is the only way." The stern yet desperate tone cut Jory to the core, causing him to nod silently before gripping his wife's hands. Not having the stomach to look, Jory kept his eyes locked with Elie's as Maester Luwin began the cut. Her anguished cries only intensified, but Jory kept his hands wound around his wife's, acting as her anchor in the wake of pain.

"Alright, Elianna, I'm going to need you to push," Luwin said, hands heavily bloodied.

"I don't – I don't think I can," her tired pale form was shaking with exhaustion, tears streaming freely down her face. Jory brought her to en face using his hands to cup her face.

"Listen to me, Elie. Everything is going to be fine," she proceeded to let out a few pants of air, as Jory licked his cracked lips, "We're going to do this together, alright?"

Sky blue eyes bore into his brown ones, hope clearly reflected in them along with another feeling Jory could not quite discern. She slowly nodded her head, and he placed a soft kiss to her tear stained cheeks.

"Ready?" Elianna nodded, took in a deep breath and pushed, more cries erupting from her lips. She took in a greedy breath, resting before the maester instructed her to push once more. This continued five more times, until it was announced the baby was crowning.

"Just a couple more Lady Cassel, just a couple more pushes and your baby will be here." Despite the maester's excited tone Jory held concern for his wife, whom seemed to continue to pale throughout the pushing, her breaths more rapid and shallow, yet her tremors had ceased. With a deep breath, a forceful push and scream, Elianna collapsed into her husband's arms, breaths still shallow and eyes fluttering shut.

"It's a girl," cried Maester Luwin, whom cradled the screaming pink infant in his arms, going about to wrap her in cloth. Jory, overjoyed, peppered his wife with kisses.

"Did you hear that, Elie, a little girl!" Jory's excited smile stopped abruptly when his wife did not respond.

"Elianna."

No response.

"Elianna!"

Even as he shook her there was no movement. The breathing had ceased, skin felt awfully cold to the touch. Alerted, the maester placed the now swaddled infant in a nearby crib, hurried over, look of horror on his face. The afterbirth had followed too rapidly, and only half had come out. It was a bloodier scene than previously, the Skagosi woman's pale legs soaked in red, drips falling onto the floor.

"You have to wake up!" Jory's voice had taken on a high volume, as close to a scream as one could get with out actually doing so. Tears welled in his eyes as he continued to try and rouse Elianna while Maester Luwin investigated the scene, grim look on his face as he felt for pulses at any point which he could find. He felt none.

"Jory…"

"She has to wake up…" though the young man was still hysterical, he sounded much more defeated than he had earlier. The maester placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, causing tear filled brown eyes to stare up at him.

"I'm sorry, I thought if we had gotten her to deliver the baby sooner, it would be fine, there would be no complications. Jory I'm – " but the maester's saddened words were cut off by Jory raising his had to silence the elder man.

"She's gone?" The whisper of the question was met with a silent nod, causing the guard to double over in breath. A few silent tears made their way down his face before he looked back up.

"May I – "

"Of course, take all the time you need. I'll be back to claim and clean her," Maester Luwin told him solemnly, giving him a soft squeeze of the shoulder before exiting the house.

Jory stumbled in front of his deceased wife, his Elianna, cupping her face oh so gently as he looked down upon her. Gone. She was gone. What had he done to offend the Gods? First they had taken his father, now his wife, his good sweet wife.

He shook his head of such thoughts, no he could not blame the Gods, and he would not blame Maester Luwin. It was just, Jory felt so hollow, so empty. He would never hear her laugh again, nor see the way her nose would wrinkle when she was frustrated, the softness of her lips upon his like a rose petal. Gone, all of her gone.

"I love you, I'm – I'm sorry I never had the nerve to tell you," Jory said, voice shaky from grief.

He placed a soft kiss upon her forehead, each of her cheeks, and finally her lips, before more tears slipped down from his eyes. And then he heard a cry; a cry so loud it probably could have waken half of Winterfell. The baby. As fast as his legs would carry him, Jory knelt down and lifted the small bundle from the crib, the infant's cries settling easily. Eyes still glassy, Jory stared at the small bundle in his arms, scrunched and pink everywhere except for the beige cloth she was wrapped in.

"A girl," he said softly, and as he placed his hand over one of the babe's own she opened her eyes and gripped one of her father's large fingers. Ice blue. Her eyes were her mother's, icy blue orbs blinking up at him, tiny mouth blowing bubbles. Ever so slowly, he uncovered the head to reveal a tuft of raven black hair. Black, just as her mother's hair. Letting out a silent cry he thanked the Gods; she was her mother's child, just as he had hoped.

And Gods be good he would not have it any other way.

"Alerie," he cooed to the infant, whom gripped his finger tighter in response.

"Alerie Cassel, the most precious jewel in Winterfell," he placed a small kiss on her forehead, "just like your mother."

A/N: Oh hey there readers! Like I stated earlier, this is my first dabble into GOT so I hope to do it some justice. This is merely a prologue, for the rest of the story will be told through Alerie's POV a majority of the time, and when the time comes there will be chapters with the other OC involved. I look forward to constructive criticism, and I hope anyone who reads this has any sort of feedback for me, so long as it is in a polite professional manner. I hope all who read enjoy this and remember, reviews are very much appreciated! Thank you all!