Summary: Ever since Rhiannon was lost in the forest all those years ago, Catelyn has prayed to the seven for her return, safe and well. Rhiannon was never seen nor heard of again. But, Anna still lived on. Found and fostered by the Forest Folk, she had no memories of her life before then. It has been over ten years. But, Catelyn still waits for her daughters return.

Disclaimer: I do not own GoT. It's owners do, both TV show and book series. I also do not own the song featured Noble Maiden Fair. All rights go to the producer or whatever. It's the song from Brave if you're wondering, but I am using the English translation of the Scottish Gaelic lyrics. The only thing I own is Rhiannon/Anna and the Forest Folk.

Just to say, this is inspired from a couple of different things. Mostly Disney films. Anastasia (I know that's not Disney), Brave, different ones i cant think of at the minute. I'm still a child at heart, I apologize.

prequel

High pitched giggles could be heard in the dark hallways of Winterfell keep. Catelyn could hear them spilling from her eldest daughters bed chambers. She had just put her youngest daughter to bed, and now it looked like she was going to have to coax the eccentric six-year old to go to sleep. She would also have to scold which ever one of the boys that were up having Rhiannon giggling like she was. Her oldest, Robb, doted on his younger sister, as did her husbands bastard, Jon Snow. As she approached the door, she could her the muttered speech of one deep voice and one child-like voice.

"Can I have another story, father?" The little six year old asked from her bed. Rhiannon was a little ball of energy. Rising at the break of dawn and only going to bed well after the sun had fallen again. Her long, dark brown hair always hung in a single braid down her back. Her brown eyes were like that of deer, and were full of adventure and mischief. She had a bright smile that could light up an entire dreary old dungeon. And now, as the moon was rising high in the night sky, Rhiannon was still adamant to go to sleep.

"Just one more, then," Catelyn heard her husband speak, bringing a smile to her face. Eddard thought hard. He had told her every story he knew, apart from the violent ones he'd save later when the boys were older and they needed to be taught a lesson. Catelyn was the one who'd be able to make up stories in order to get the children to fall asleep. He thought back to a story his father once told him. "Um, one evening an old First Man told his grandson about the battle that goes on inside people."

Rhiannon's brow furrowed together. "Is this going to be boring?"

"No, child," He told her. Rhiannon relaxed. "The First Man said, 'My son, the battle is between two wolves inside of us all. One is evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.' The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: 'Which wolf wins?'"

"The strongest?" Rhiannon asked, straightening herself up in the bed, with a big smile on her face. She assumed she had gotten it right.

"The one you feed," Eddard corrected her. Rhiannon furrowed her brow again.

"But, the one that feeds more will be stronger," Rhiannon stated, making her father chuckle.

"Sometimes, I think you're too clever for your own good," He told her, a wide smile spread across her face again. Catelyn knocked gently on the door to her daughters bedchambers.

"Alright, bed," Catelyn demanded.

"Mother," Rhiannon moaned, as her father motioned himself of the end of her bed,

"Your mother is right, child," Eddard told her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead "It is time for bed."

"Father, can I go riding tomorrow too?" Rhiannon asked, as he walked towards the door.

"Ugh," He looked to Catelyn, who was giving him a stern look. "What your mother says."

"Please, please, please, mother," Rhiannon pleaded, folding up her tiny hands into one another. "I promise to be careful."

Catelyn sighed. "You may go once." Rhiannon smiled brightly again, brushing the hair from her face. Rhiannon jumped out from under the firs and ran to her mother. She wrapped her arms around her mothers legs lovingly. "Careful."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, mother," Rhiannon cheered, bouncing up and own.

"Bed, now." Catelyn demanded, before turning to her husband of almost ten years. "We'll talk shortly." When she looked back, Rhiannon was climbing her way back into the bed that was for too big of her. Rhiannon was small for her age. People often mistake her for approaching her fifth name day, instead of halfway to her seventh.

"Mother, I'm not tired," Rhiannon pouted, crossing her legs in front of her. Her long brown hair hung messily around her face.

"But, you must sleep," Catelyn said, sitting next to her on the bed and running her thin fingers through her daughters hair. Rhiannon was the image of a Stark. Dark hair and dark eyes. The only one of her children to take the Stark features. The youngest Arya also possessed a mop of black hair since she was born, but her eyes were blue, a Tully feature. "Did you not brush your hair?" Her oldest daughter shook her head in reply. Catelyn grabbed a hold of the hairbrush was pulled Rhiannon closer.

"Mother," Rhiannon began, playing with the ends of her nightdress, as her mother combed through her messy hair.

"Yes, child?"

"Do you think the baby will be a boy?" Rhiannon asked.

"Why do you ask that?" Catelyn asked. She was going to have another baby in no more than four moons, only just over a year since Arya was born.

"Because I want another brother," Rhiannon stated.

"Wouldn't you like another sister?" Catelyn asked, smiling slightly.

"I already have two," Catelyn chuckled.

"As long as the babe has it's health," Catelyn said. "Maybe if you wish hard enough. There we are. Bed."

"Mother," Rhiannon's voice echoed through the stone room again as Catelyn stood up. Finally, she was beginning to sound tired. Catelyn thanked the seven that she wouldn't be up all night with Rhiannon's energy. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Yes, child?" Catelyn asked, looking down into her daughters brown doe eyes.

"Will you sing me your song?" Rhiannon asked, snuggling up in the soft furry blankets. Catelyn sat back down beside her drifting daughter. This was the song her mother sang to her when she was little, and Catelyn had always sang it to Rhiannon. If she was lively enough, Rhiannon would even join in. She knew the words well enough.

"Little baby, hear my voice. I am beside you, O maiden fair." Catelyn sang, running her hands over her daughters hair. "Our young lady, grow and see, your land, your own faithful land. Sun and moon, guide us to the hour of our glory and honor. Little baby, our young lady. Noble maiden fair." Catelyn watched as Rhiannon's heavy eyes gave up and slowly closed. She planted a soft kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

"Rhiannon, get back here," Septa Mordane called to the young girl, who had run off quickly from her chambers. She had been brought in only last year to begin to school the eldest daughter of the Lord and Lady of Winterfell in everything a future lady should know. Unfortunately for Rhiannon, horse riding through the woodlands of the North was not something a little lady should be doing. Septa Mordane had often been strict with Rhiannon, but only because she disobeyed the woman more than enough times. She couldn't wait until their next daughter Sansa came to schooling age. Even at three name days, she was already quite a young little lady. Prim, proper and polite, the was Septa Mordane's dream. A child who couldn't wait to learn how to play the harp or embroider her house sigil onto fabrics. Rhiannon was reluctant. She wanted to go outside. All of the time. Septa Mordane had compromised a number of times for Rhiannon, allowing her to have her lessons outside. But, Rhiannon often became distracted by one thing or another. A loud giggle escaped Rhiannon's lips as she quickly ran down the hallways of the keep. Septa Mordane was hot on her heels, trying to walk as quickly as she would while still keeping her steps graceful. "Child, you must return at once."

"But, Septa, mother said I could go riding today." Rhiannon said, as she bounced down the stone stairway.

"Once you finish your lessons, my dear," Mordane spoke, following the brown headed child. "Riding is no place for a lady."

"I'm not a lady, am I?" Rhiannon asked, stopping and turning towards her tutor for a few moments. Almost taunting her. "I am merely a child."

"You will be a lady someday, Rhiannon," Mordane said, exasperated from the chasing. Rhiannon made it out to the stables. Immediately her eyes landed on her father, who was saddling up his horse for the ride.

"Father," Rhiannon said, happily running into Ned's arms. He turned just in time to see the six-year old running towards him. He scooped her up into his arms. She was getting big. "Septa says I can't go riding. I told her Mother allows me."

"You should listen to your Septa, child," Ned told her, sternly. Her brown eyes grew bigger as she held her tongue. "You shouldn't be disobeying her."

"Ah, my lord, you have caught her," Mordane said approaching them, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, she's fast, isn't she?" Ned said, bouncing her up and down.

"I'll take her back inside to continue her lessons," Mordane offered, folding her hands in front of her.

"There is no need. Her horse is already saddled," Ned told the Septa, as a huge grin spread across the child's face and her eyes lit up. He gently put her back down onto the ground. "Why don't you go find where your brothers have gone. Tell them we'll be heading out shortly."

"Yes, father," Rhiannon said, happily running off to search for Robb and Jon.

"Are you sure that Rhiannon should be riding?" Mordane asked, cautiously "She's a young girl, and hopefully a future lady. She would be better learning needlework and music rather than horse riding and archery."

"She's my daughter. If she wishes to ride horses, then so be it. If you excuse me," Ned told the woman before stalking off to take care of other business before he left.

Rhiannon searched around the grounds within the walls of Winterfell. Although extremely strong, many did consider Winterfell to be a relatively small regional capital, compared to the likes of Casterly Rock in the Westerlands or Highgarden in the Reach. Not to Rhiannon. Winterfell felt like the size of the Westeros to the six year old. Although she had traveled often with either her father to the Eyrie in the Vale of Arryn or to her mothers home of Riverrun in the Riverlands, Winterfell always felt home for Rhiannon. Eventually she found the two boys sparring, deep in the Godswood.

"Father says to come along," Rhiannon called out, standing on the nearby rising of land, looking down on the two young boys, both merely two years older than herself. "We are leaving soon. He even told Septa Mordane that I was allowed to go. She wouldn't believe me." A huge smile was plastered on her face.

"You're going hunting?" A young Robb asked her. Rhiannon placed her little hands on her hips.

"Yes," She told him. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you're too young," Robb said walking past her. "And you're a girl." Robb knew to run at that moment. Rhiannon turned on her heels quickly and began to chase her older brother as fast as she could. Jon just laughed and ran after his half-siblings. Unfortunately, Robb was just too fast for her, and he bet Rhiannon to the courtyard, where Eddard and the other lords were saddling up.

"I may be a girl, but I can still hurt you," Rhiannon said, not realizing that Robb had stopped in front of her. She didn't have enough time to stop herself before she ran straight into the back of his. The two fell to the ground in a pile as Jon approached laughing.

"Deserves you right," he told Robb.

"Children, stop at once," Eddard told them, and Rhiannon finally rose from her position on top of her brother. "Mount your horses, we're leaving in a few moments." Rhiannon was helped up onto her horse, not much older than a foal. It had been a gift for the girls sixth nameday from the King, a close friend of her fathers.

Soon they were off and riding through the wild of the forests of the North. They started slow, so that the children accompanying them wouldn't fall behind. It wasn't a big hunt. If it were, Robb, Jon nor Rhiannon would have been allowed to go. Today was only a ceremonial hunt. It was the mark the nameday of Winterfell's founder, Benjen the builder. Rhiannon kept near the middle of the group as they paraded through the forest looking for game. She soon turned her head at the sound of the bickering of her brothers.

"Yes, I can" "No, you can't"

"What is the matter?" She asked, slowing down her horse long enough for the boys to catch up with her.

"He said I won't be able to catch something today," Rob told his sister, a whining sound in his voice. Her brothers always bickered. It was nothing new to her.

"He only speaks the truth," Rhiannon joking told her older brother. Her hands were not gripped tightly around the bridle, as they should have been. The horse moved over to the side of the trail in Rhiannon's loose grip. There was a sudden crack of thunder overhead. The clouds looming overhead had threatened to dampen their outing all day, but luckily it held off long enough. Rhiannon felt her horse rise up underneath her and jolt forward.

The faint calling of her name from her brothers faded into the distance as the young horse sprinted through the forest, dodging trees, stumps, bushes. All kinds of everything. Her grip obviously tightened on the reigns as she attempted to keep herself on her horse. She heard her name being called, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. The whole forest was passing by in a blur of trees. Next thing she knew, a tree branch hung overhead. Rhiannon moved her body out of the way to avoid it, but ultimately lost her balance. She tumbled off the horse, hitting the ground hard. She rolled over and behind a bunch of bushes, hitting her head on a large tree root sprawling out beside her.

All Rhiannon heard was another crack of thunder and felt a few droplets of rain on her cheeks before she descended into darkness.

"Rhiannon," Robb called after his sister, riding off in the direction that her horse had stampeded in. His half-brother was not far behind him, also calling her name. The clouds overhead had opened and rain was falling on the forest as it blended into a mesh of branches, leaves, bushes and tree trunks. There was no way the two of them could find Rhiannon, especially in this weather. Suddenly, they heard the quickened stomping of another, larger horses hooves. Their father and a number of the other Lords had followed them through the winding woods and descending droplets.

"Boys, what is it?" he questioned, gliding the horse to a stop. "What happened? Where's Rhiannon?"

"The thunder struck and her horse took off that way," Jon explained, pointing ahead of them.

"And did your sister not stop the horse?"

"No," Robb said. "It was galloping to fast."

"Lord Umber," Eddard called upon him. "Escort the boys back to Winterfell. We'll continue searching."

"But, father."

"No, but's," he interrupted his son. "I already have one child lost in the rain, I don't need two more."

Catelyn had been wrecked with nerves since the earlier return of her son and her husbands bastard to the keep. They brought news that she had not expected to hear. Her eldest daughter was lost in the woods. Everything that could happen to her dear little Rhiannon raced through her head. Catelyn had been praying to the Mother for, not only, the safe return of her daughter, but also of her husband and his banner men who searched for her. A sudden crack of thunder made Catelyn snap her head to the window. She saw a number of horses gallop down the hill into Winterfell. She soon sprung from her position and went to greet the men she they returned. Within moments of arriving down at the courtyard, Catelyn witnessed the men lead the horses into the stables and quickly seek shelter from the plummeting rain.

"My lord, what is the news?" Catelyn asked frantically.

"Nothing yet, my lady," Lord Karstark told her. "Your husband chose to continue searching and sent most of us on our way."

"That can't be all," Catelyn begged. "You must have found something."

"The woods are quite vast, my lady," he began, hesitating slightly. "but..."

"But, what?"

"But we found the young lady's horse," Lord Karstark informed her. "It was dead, Lady Catelyn."

"Was it attacked?"

"No," he shook his head. Catelyn looked down at the ground, a worried scowl on her face. "Perhaps it was natural causes, or perhaps..."

"It was poisoned."

"Possibly, your grace," He said, bowing his head and walking away. Catelyn stared out the gates of Winterfell, watching the rain plummet from the sky and bounce on the dirt road. She hoped that soon her husband will return with their daughter, safe.

Catelyn sat at the edge of her bed, hand resting on the swell of her belly. She couldn't sleep. Night had descended fast and the rain still hadn't settled over the North. Another flash of lightning struck and a rumble of thunder rattled. Catelyn feared for not only her daughter, missing in this dark, wet night, but for her husband who was tirelessly searching for her. She wished he would return soon. She wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew they were both in their beds. She also knew Ned wouldn't return until he found her, or knew...

No, she couldn't think on things like that. She banished the thoughts from her mind and rose. She grabbed a cloak to wrap over her body and made her way to the small Sept. Ned had built it for her almost eight years ago, when she first come to the North. The war was only over and Robb was only a babe. The time he had brought Jon Snow home with him.

Arriving at the Sept, Catelyn knelt down in front of the statue of the Mother and engrossed herself in silent prayer. She didn't know how long she sat there staring at the foot of the statue. She never heard the hard footsteps entering the Sept, not until she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. At first she assumed it was Maester Luwin, come to bid her to bed. But, when she felt the dampness of the hand seep through her cloak and slip, she knew who it was. She turned around quickly to find her husband standing there, soaking wet from head to toe. His hair stuck to his face and his furs looked heavy from the moisture they carried.

"Oh, Ned," She rose as quickly as she could in her condition. "Did you find her? Where is Rhiannon? Is she in her bed? She's bound to be soaking wet."

"Cat," He said, his face dejectedly looking to the ground. She knew in her heart something was wrong right then. She had been denying feeling it all evening. Now it's finally coming to the fore. He sighed heavily as he couldn't find the words. "I'm sorry, love..."

"No," tears began to form in her eyes,

"We couldn't find her," Ned said, as Catelyn buried herself in his chest. He was trying to be strong on the outside, but all he wanted to do was go back out and look for her, despite the rain and despite the darkness. "We searched the part of the forest we were in several times. All we found was..."

"Her horse," Catelyn sobbed.

"Yes," Ned said, lifting up her head to force her to look at him. "I promise, Catelyn. I will go out with a hundred men as soon as tomorrows light comes and the rain stops. I will find her."

After that moment, Catelyn felt an empty feeling inside her grow and she just knew, he wouldn't find their eldest daughter. But, she also knew that she wasn't dead.

In the days that followed, Ned went out on several rides throughout the forest in order to locate his missing daughter. All attempts came up empty handed. There seemed to be no sign of Rhiannon anywhere they had rode. They broadened the search, hoping that she had just wandered off a bit and was hiding near the foot of a great weir wood tree off the beaten path. But no. There was still no sign of the little girl of only six years. It was four days after her disappearance that something was found. A piece of her riding dress had torn off on a bush along the path her horse had galloped down. It wasn't the only thing they found. There was dried blood, near the base of the bush. It would have been sheltered from their great thunderstorm that night. Although he didn't want to admit, he had to accept that his daughter was gone. In the four days they searched anything could have happened. Wildlings, direwolves. It wasn't common, but a small pack usually make it down into the wolfswood once or twice a year. Eddard cried silent tears for a month for his lost daughter.

Catelyn had reacted differently. She refused to believe that her daughter was dead. She claimed it was her motherly instinct to know that their daughter was still alive. She claimed that perhaps some passers by found her. Or that she wandered down into Torrhen's Square or up to Deepwood Motte. It was a long way away, but she couldn't give up hope. She prayed to the Mother every day for Rhiannon's safe return. Before long, she birthed her child. A boy, just like Rhiannon had hoped. Little Brandon Stark. He was followed a few years later by Rickon, but still no return of their eldest sister. Sansa was young when it happens. She had little memories of her older sister. Arya was only a babe, she didn't have any memories of the time, let alone Rhiannon. A girl whom she had grown to be very like. On the other hand, Robb and Jon had many fond memories of their cheeky little sister. The girl that always got them into trouble when she felt like it. It was her specialty, her pastime. Robb remembered her the best. His little sister. His first little sister. He ended up blaming himself for a long time after she went missing and those feelings of guilt still wreck him today.

News of her disappearance and likely death spread through Westeros quickly. From the Wall to Sunspear, Eddard accept messages of condolences. King Robert offered the travel North to offer his condolences in person, but Ned told him no, that he had a kingdom to hold. He had only been King for five years. He was still warming into the position of ruler. The bells rang in Winterfell for a day and a night for the little Lady Rhiannon. Then as time went by, things returned to normal in Winterfell and in the North. The Starks continued about their business, but never forgot the daughter and sister they lost in the woods. They still celebrate her name day, even though she isn't with them. They never found a body, nor knew the truth of what really happened to the little Lady of Winterfell.

Blackness soon turned to light as her eyes fluttered open. As her eyesight began to focus on what was around her, her hearing returned also. She could hear people talking over her, their dark figuring standing tall at each side of her.

"She has been sleeping for hours," one male voice said. "What do we do with her?"

"I don't know," another spoke. "I suppose we wait until she wakes and take her to Markly."

"Where did she come from anyway?"

"I don't know," the second voice replied to the first. "Demmen says she was just laying there in the rain. He hoisted her up onto the saddle and took off when he heard Northerners coming."

"What were the Northerners doing out in the storm in the first place?" the first voice asked, in a mocking voice. "Aren't they scared of getting their pretty little heads wet?"

"She's awake," the second voice stated, seeing the girl moving about as she came back into consciousness. Her grey eyes finally focused on the two dirty faced men before her. "It's alright, girl. We're not going to hurt you."

"Unless she's a Northerner," the other one said. She sat up in the best, her face firm and her eyes staring at the two men.

"Does she look highborn to you?" the second man asked, rhetorically. She looked down to see her skirts tattered and torn. Her hands were charred in dirt and no doubt her face was too.

"No, I'm saying she could be a part of one of those lower high houses."

"What are you talking about?"

She sat and watched the two men argue for a few moments before seeing the exit to the hut flap open and shut. She looked back at them, watching their faces go red in heated argument. In that moment, she made a break for it. They hadn't noticed the little girl sprint off at all. She turned her head back to see if they would follow her and ran straight into something hard. Instead of falling to the ground, two firm hands grabbed her shoulders and steadied her against his body. Looking up, she saw a man with with hairs striking his long beard and hair. He had furs hanging over his body for heat.

"Where are you going child?" He asked in a kindly voice, bending down to her level. Her eyebrows were knitted together in fear. She didn't answer him. "You must be the girl Demmen told me about. How old are you?" She thought hard, looking to the ground, but nothing was coming to her. She looked back up to him and shook her head. "Do you know where you're from? How you got here? Who you family is?" A few moments of deep thought followed, but she shook her head again. "Do you speak the common tongue at least?"

"Yes," she finally answered. The man before her smiled widely.

"Then tell me your name, girl."

"R-e-agh-" She thought, with something minor coming to to her. "-na-"

"Anna?" he questioned, only catching that. It sounded familiar to her. She nodded her head in reply. "Well little Anna, you have no need to fear us. We are gentle here." Anna turned her head to look back into the hut. He could hear the argument still raging between the young men. "Never mind my nephews Gregor and Rewlyn, they are hot tempered. You'll be safe here, Anna. There's no need to be afraid."

"What is your name?" she asked, continuing to scrunch her eyebrows together.

"My name is Markly," he answered with a kind smile and pointed around to the large group of people around them. "I am their leader."

"Who are they?"

"We're the Forest Folk, sweet Anna," Markly told her and stood up straight, his old knees cracking. "Come, lets get a healer to look at those cuts."

"Okay."

As the years went on, Anna had become one with the Forest Folk. She grew up learning their ways, traditions, skills. She worship their Gods and grew up to be a fine young woman under Markly's protection. Markly's wife had died in childbed many years ago. In their vows, the Forest Folk swear to never lay with another woman outside of his marriage. Even if their wife dies. A downside to this, Markly had no heirs to lead the Forest Folk after his passing. Little Anna from the forest was his shot at it. He trained her himself. Everything to horse riding, archery and fighting with had been very good at anything she picked up, but horseback riding and archery were definitely her favorites. They never knew her name day nor her age. They went on by how old she looked. When she first bled, a woman of the tribe had said she must have been at least thirteen. That was three years ago. Anna was now a fine young woman of an estimated ten and six years. She was greatly desired among the men of the tribe. She knew one day she would become their leader and that she would have to marry and have an heir herself. But that time was far away. Or so she though.