what’s not to like?

it will still be the same every day

To their horror, concerns about the stores start in the 6th year of the winter. Despite  the yearly harvests, cities and towns alike were wary of newcomers and new beggars. Winterfell was no exception, but it’s different in the north. Everyone had their parts to play and in turn, they earn their shares. That was why the Harvests were in place in the north. Every reaping brought food in plenty to Winterfell, but more yet they brought material needs: clothes, tools, specialty trades.

Gwen had learned that it was a remarkable system, even when she was on the periphery. Now, after been in the heart of things, and when the supplies are so strained - it was an ideal system for ideal times. When White Harbor can offer an excess amount of sea goods, they traded for wood and iron tools. Winterfell’s harvests ensured that these pacts were honored and they were year after year. Winter was coming, after all.

“They say there’s a heavy tax on entry into King’s Landing now,” Rickon says, bouncing his little niece on his knees. “And travelers are more likely to be robbed before they even get to the gates. If they’re brave enough to travel at all.” More people come to Winterfell everyday, most of them fleeing The Gift and Last Hearth.  

Soon, even Robb has to concede. “We can’t hold this many, and we can’t feed them either. They would have been better suited if they stayed where they were. The Harvest was meant to see them through.” But even he didn’t mention that Winterfell held a larger share, being the capital of the North. 

“So we leave them to starve?” she asks, incredulous. She didn’t need to be persistent, he already knew what must be done. These were Northmen, and it didn’t matter where north they had come.

“We’ll be lucky if we last the next two years,” Robb sighs. “But it would’ve been what my father wanted.” 

It’s a slow trek to King’s Landing even on the Kingsroad and Gwen was having trouble keeping Sansa from fussing from anxiousness. “What if we’ll be late and everything is over by then time we get there?” Gwen just tugs at her plait while she’s twisting it and says, “The tourney will hardly start without your lord father present. We’ll make good time, m’lady.”

One night, Lady Catelyn sends the girls off to bed early because of a spat. Unfortunately that meant a rather tense evening in the tent. They bore the punishment well until the close quarters ended up in a throwing match of brushes and clothes and in some cases boots. Thankfully, a shout from Gwen was enough and the girls sheepishly crawled into their beds. 

Later, as she finds herself unable to fall asleep, she hears voices outside. Then, Robb’s head ducks into the tent. “Are the girls asleep?” At her nod, he beckons her out. “They’ll be fine on their own for a time, would you mind a walk with me?” She worries her lip, thinking of leaving the girls by themselves. Sansa was only four-and-ten, and Arya even younger. Still… Suddenly, another head ducked into the tent.

“I’ll keep an eye out, Gwen. You go on,” Ser Desmond encouraged. Robb’s wide grin tells her she has no proper excuse to refuse now. 

I’m going to have to hang upside down again, aren’t I?

The King of Camelot was worse than all of the Doctor’s run-ins with Queen Elizabeth I, especially when Uther thought interdimensional particle absorbsance was “magic”. Still, King Uther really did just sentence him to burn tomorrow at dawn and the TARDIS along with him.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I would love to meet that appointment, but unfortunately I’ve got two girls coming for me, and I’ll tell you something fantastic,” the Doctor looked around to make sure everyone present was listening to him. “They are very good.”

-

“Does he always get into so much trouble?” Gwen asks, rushing alongside Martha through the castle halls.

“Oh, this isn’t even half of it,” Martha breathes. “I get him out of it in the end though, in the same proper shape and I can’t say I’ve never needed help in a pinch either. It’s always a blast though. You should come with us!”

Gwen smiles, leading them through a doorway to dodge some guards. Maybe she might.