King's Landing. There was not a place in the world more beautiful than this. Except of course, for Winterfell. Winterfell would always hold it's place in Alyria Stark's heart. It was her home. It was her life. But no matter how much the eldest Stark child loved Winterfell, she could not deny the beauty of the castle's vast expanse as it stretched greedily towards the sky above her. As she rode up to the castle's gates, Alyria let out a sigh.
Looking back at her siblings, the girl smiled. Brandon, the second eldest, rode beside her; the others, behind her. Brynn walked beside her, the direwolf staying as close to her side as possible.
In her mind, Alyria wondered about what would happen in the days to come. What would her life be like? Now that her father was Hand to the King of Westeros. Aegon, from what she'd heard, was a good king, a trustworthy man, and an honest one as well. Those same traits could be laid to her own father.
As the gates slowly swung open, Alyria rode through, her eyes scanning her surroundings. The city was hustling and bustling with life.
Well, here goes nothing.
(I know its short, but I'm being dragged out of my room. But I wanted to get this up. So, here you go.)