Alaric leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he studied the figure on the floor. "Get up."
The demon rose in one fluid motion. He stood tall and still, his eyes locked on Alaric, waiting.
"My Monarch," he said, bowing low. "A servant is easier to command if he has a name. Right now, I am nothing. What should I be called?"
Alaric looked at the man's sharp, intelligent face. He didn't want anything grand or dramatic.
"Dae," Alaric said.
The demon bowed again, his forehead nearly touching his knees. "Dae," he repeated. "A good name. What is your first command? I am ready to work."
Alaric glanced at the girl sleeping on the bed before looking back at the demon. "For now, just learn. Move through Winterfell. Map out every hallway, every guard rotation, and every face in this castle. I want you to know this place better than the Starks do."
A spark lit up Dae's brown eyes, though he kept his head down. "Information. I can do that. I'll move through the shadows and listen to the gossip. No one will see me but you."
"Don't cause any trouble," Alaric warned.
"As you wish, Master," Dae whispered. He stepped back into a dark corner. His body blurred, blending into the gloom until the corner was empty.
Alaric stood up from the window. The blue screen vanished as he turned away from the dying fire. He walked over to the large bed where Roslin lay still under the thick furs. He lifted the edge of the blanket—which stayed at a steady, comfortable warmth—and slid in beside her.
The movement made Roslin stir. She opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light. When she saw it was him, she relaxed. She didn't say anything, but she moved over to make room and leaned against his side with a quiet sigh.
She reached out and locked her fingers with his, tucking her head against his shoulder. Alaric used his free hand to gently brush some hair away from her face. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. Inside the thick stone walls of Winterfell, they both finally fell into a deep sleep.
...
The stone walls of Winterfell were cold, but the room stayed warm. As the grey morning light came through the window, Alaric woke up. He was a light sleeper, and his new powers made his senses even sharper. Beside him, Roslin started to wake. She breathed in quick, soft gasps as she realized where she was.
Roslin blinked, her face heating up as she realized she was still tucked into the crook of Alaric's arm. She started to scramble back, an apology already forming, but Alaric leaned in. He pressed his lips to hers, slow and heavy. Roslin's eyes stayed wide for a second before they drifted shut. Her fingers bunched into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
When he pulled away, she was breathless. "Good morning, Roslin," he said.
"Good morning, My Lord," she whispered. Her hands shook, but she didn't look away.
Alaric reached for the laces of her gown. His movements were steady, unhurried. Roslin's face went dark pink, but she didn't pull back. Instead, her trembling fingers reached for the buttons on his tunic to help. She didn't feel the fear she had heard the maids at the Twins whisper about—the stories of bruised skin and cruel husbands. Alaric hadn't raised a hand to her. He had fed her and kept her safe.
She watched him, her gaze lingering on his face. She wasn't just doing this because he was her master; she wanted to be there.
"My Lord," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his chest. "I'm glad it was you who found me."
Alaric didn't answer, but his hand settled firmly on the small of her back.
Hours later, the room was quiet. The scent of woodsmoke and sweat hung in the air. Roslin lay draped across Alaric's chest, her skin warm and her limbs heavy. She took a shaky breath, tracing the white lines of a scar on his shoulder. Her body ached, but her expression was calm.
Alaric kept his hand on her back, feeling the steady thrum of her heart. He glanced at the window where the morning sun was starting to cut through the frost. It was time to move.
"My Lo..." Roslin started. She hesitated, her fingers tugging at the edge of the furs. "The maids at the Twins... they talked about a medicine. A tea. To stop a child from coming. Is it possible to get some? I don't want to carry a baby before we are wed."