As years slowly passed, discontented whispers died, those with objections to a marriage between wolf and mockingbird won over piecemeal. Some, already old men when Robb Stark called his banners to march southward, simply passed; others possessed sensibilities altogether more courtly, capable of persuasion via grants of land, raised incomes, the arrangement of marriages to young, comely brides. All the rest found their complaints worn smooth by time’s passage: no plague struck crops or livestock, no spirits stole away children in the night, no mighty storm swept across the continent to punish Winterfell for housing so unlikely a match. They were forever joined. Across council table eyes would meet, beryl and sapphire, and through corridors they would stroll with fingers intertwined. Gradually it was no longer the Stark Queen and Lord Baelish who occupied a northern keep, but them, they, together as one. A shift seen as readily between the pair as in their kingdom, an unhurried intermixing of experience and innocence which promised to draw forth Spring’s green shoots even from under the deepest of Winter’s snows.
“You’re always so strong, and I’m always… not. I’m useless in a fight. All I know hot to do is kick and scream until someone comes to save me. Please teach me.” You asked. You knew Allison didn’t want you anywhere near a fight, but leaving you defenseless wasn’t a good way to keep you safe.
“Alright.” She agreed.
First, she taught you hand-to-hand combat, though it was all but useless against werewolves and most supernatural creatures. Still, it couldn’t hurt to know it.
“Punch fast, and hard, but don’t lose your balance. Don’t go for the face, go for the throat; it hurts them more and it’s a lot easier on your knuckles.” Allison said, and you punched at her. She evaded your attack and paused before executing a counter-attack.
“Dodge, and once they are off balance, strike. Use their own moves against them.” She went slowly, giving you plenty of time to grab her shoulder and twist her arm out of the way.
“Don’t forget your legs; kicking is just as useful as punching, especially when your opponent isn’t expecting it. A snap kick to the groin and then an elbow to the face does wonders. Stance steady.” She said. Over and over the two of you went through the moves, until they felt more natural.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Allison said, and smiled at you. “You’re doing well. Let’s start with the weapons.”
You didn’t even bother with the bow. It takes years and years of practice, Allison said, so it’s best to start out with a gun. The first time you shot it, the recoil nearly sent you flying.
“Hold it like this.” She said, wrapping her arms around you to show the correct way to hold it. Her sudden closeness surprised you, and your face flushed red. She smiled and kissed you before pulling away.
You hit the target, dead center. You imagined yourself protecting Allison, finally proving to the pack you aren’t just a useless human. Proving to yourself that you are stronger than you imagined.