Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or any of the characters.

Chapter One

The wind whipped around her as Zora Blackmyre leaned against the railing of Winterfell. She pulled her furs closer to her to block out the chill, but truthfully she was not that cold. She was Northborn, and as such she was well-adapted to this weather. Her family home of Myrewood was farther North than Winterfell and this yearly trip was like going to Dorne for her.

Below her four teenage boys were sparring. They were paired off, but all evenly matched. One pair, a boy with curly auburn hair and dark eyes, against on with straight, honey colored hair, seemed to be drawing to a close. The curly haired boy was seeming to gain the edge, slowly overpowering his opponent. Zora watched intensely as the curly haired boy suddenly got the other's sword out of his hands and across the field. She drew a quick breath as the curly haired boy approached his opponent, who was frantically trying to get to his sword, with a jaunt in his step. Just before the fatal blow was struck, the boy on the ground cried out.

"I yield!"

Zora scoffed and leaned forward on her forearms. She muttered under her breath "Coward."

The curly haired boy grinned and offered his opponent a hand up. "Better luck next time, Zerryn." He said, his voice echoing up to Zora above him. "Maybe next year you will finally win!"

Zerryn grimaced and glanced up at his sister, who was staring down at him in disappointment. Robb Stark followed his gaze to Zora, to whom he gave a mock bow.

"Lady Zora! Did you come to see your brother's tragic defeat? This is what, the eighth year in a row?" The other two boys had finished their spar and came over to join Robb and Zerryn, who was stretching out his sword arm.

Zora smirked down at him. "Contrary to appearances, my brother is a talented fighter. There is only one fighter at Myrewood that he has not managed to beat yet, which, I believe, is better than your record, Lord Stark."

"Is that so?" Robb looked at Zerryn, apparently impressed. One of the other boys scoffed skeptically. Zerryn only looked at his sister with a knowing shake of his head. "And who is this fighter?"

"Just the only undefeated sword fighter at Myrewood. Undefeated for the last five years. So Zerryn's loss is not as bad in that context."

"He should come to Winterfell with you next year. I'd like to try my hand at him, see if he is worth the reputation." One of the other boys twirled his sword in his hand as he spoke. "I find it hard to believe that a Blackmyre man is better than an ironborn." The other boy, one with darker curls than Robb's, shook his head quietly at the boy who had spoken.

Robb chuckled. "It seems that Theon is skeptical. Maybe next year we can test out this swordsman and see how he matches up against an ironborn and a Stark."

A slight smile played at Zora's lips. "As a matter of fact, they came with us this year."

Robb turned towards the stables, where most of Lord Blackmyre's men were gathered. "Which one is this legend?"

"My money is on the large one with the scar on his face. He looks like a right brute." Theon came forward and took Robb's sword from him, his face glowing with anticipation. "But I bet you could still win, Robb." He moved to put the sparring swords away.

Robb glanced at the man referenced . "Well, Lady Zora, is Theon right, is this the man? Because if it is not then I have to say I'm disappointed. None of the other men look to be much of a threat, no offense meant to your father of course."

Zora shook her head, her smile becoming larger. "No offense taken. Blackmyre men are not known for their size but for their skill." She paused a moment. "But no, the sword fighter is not among those."

Robb looked back at Zora with raised eyebrows. "Who is the man, then?"

Zora leaned farther forward over the railing, her grin now the largest it had been yet. "Who said anything about a man?"

Zerryn let out a chuckle, and the other boy laughed as well. Robb only looked at Zora, disbelief on his face. "You can't be serious."

Zora cocked her eyebrow at him. "Scared, Stark? Need I remind you of my first victory, right here in this courtyard eight years ago?" She gestured around them as Robb's face lost all emotion and his jaw tightened. "I had never held a sword before that day, but I was somehow able to defeat the future Lord of Winterfell." She paused, smirking at him before continuing. "How well do you remember our fight, Stark? Because I remember it like it was yesterday."

Robb didn't say anything, only meeting her mocking gaze a moment before leaving the courtyard. The other boys followed him, while Zerryn climbed the stairs to stand next to his sister. She was watching Robb's progress back into Winterfell, her smirk still at her lips.

"You could let that go, you know." Zerryn said quietly. Zora looked at her brother and raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious."

Zora opened her mouth, but Zerryn held up his hand to silence her. "All I'm saying is, it might not be a good idea to embarrass Robb Stark at every turn you get. You were only seven after all. That was a long time ago."

"Yes, and he was nine. It's not my fault that he still gets embarrassed by it."

"Yes it is, my dear sister. If you would not persist in bringing it up every year, then he would not continued to be embarrassed by it." Zerryn paused a moment, looking after Robb. "Although, if I'm honest I think it's part of why he trains so hard. He doesn't want anyone else to be able to mock him for losing."

Zora laughed. "If that's the case then he needs to get a thicker skin. As much as I would like to take credit for inspiring one of the best sword fighters in the North, I think everyone would much prefer that he trains to be the best, not to quiet the mockery of a girl he lost to when he was nine."

"Why will you never let it go?"

Zora hesitated. "I'm not sure." She admitted. "Part of me thinks it's because he can be arrogant, and that angers me. But it's also because-," She broke off, looking after Robb again, although he could no longer be seen.

"Because...?" Zerryn prompted.

"Because...when we were children and we would visit Winterfell, I thought he was incredible." She glanced at Zerryn. "Not more incredible than my brother, or father, of course. But he was kind and he was the son of Ned Stark. I wanted nothing more than to play with him and be close to him. But, because I was a girl and his friend's younger sister, he always pushed me away. He was never cruel, but he was not overly kind. I looked up to him regardless. That day, Greyjoy had been being particularly ruthless. You remember how he used to tease me mercilessly?"

Zerryn nodded silently, his face growing grave at the memory.

"Arrogant prick." Zora said bitterly. "Well, that day Greyjoy saw me watching Robb train and began tormenting me, saying things about how I was weak and a girl and 'all I would be good for was spreading my legs and letting a lord have his way with me.'" Zora paused, gripping the railing tightly.

"And all Robb did was laugh." She took a breath, looking down at her hands, and closed her eyes against the memory. "This boy, who I looked at and admired, instead of defending me or stopping him, just laughed while this vile boy said these things to me." She laughed bitterly. "I had spent my childhood watching him get better and better at the sword, and suddenly I was so angry I heard myself challenging him to a fight."

Zerryn broke in. "Why didn't you challenge Theon? He was the one acting like a prick."

She shook her head. "I didn't know Theon. That was just after he came to live with the Starks. Robb was my idol, and he failed me that day. All I knew was I wanted to beat him at his game."

Zerryn laughed. "And you were seven."

Zora shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I think he was so shocked, and he didn't want to back away from a fight in front of Theon, so he said yes." She stopped and grinned. "I remember, when I picked up the sparring sword, my anger was fading and I was left scared out of my wits. But then that sword somehow fit into my hand perfectly. And I knew I was going to beat him." She looked at her brother.

"And the rest is history." He said, smiling at his sister. She nodded, still remembering the feeling of the sword in her hand and Robb's face when he realized that she was going to beat him.

Zerryn poked his sister. "You may have put your childhood idol in his place, but the man he is today is not laughing at you." He looked seriously at her. "I think you need to apologize to him. It's time to let this go. 'Mistakes will happen,' after all."

She rolled her eyes at him, smiling. "Our house's words have found many purposes over the centuries. I'm not sure this instance is as fitting as most."

When he didn't stop looking her with that serious expression, she relented. "Alright fine, if the situation calls for it I will apologize and then never mention it again. Satsified?"

Zerryn smiled at her. "Yes. And Father will be too."

"What does Father have to do with this?"

Zerryn hesitated a moment before responding. "Because I think he is toying with the idea of a betrothal between you and Robb." Zora sputtered in disbelief, but Zerryn continued before she could break in. "I said toying with. Nothing is certain yet. But I just think it would be a lot easier for you and Robb if you weren't at each other's throats day and night if it were to move forward. Or even if it weren't."

Zora was silent, staring straight ahead. Zerryn watched her closely. He said cautiously, "The Starks are good people. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it?"

Zora met her brother's gaze before speaking. "No, it wouldn't," she relented. "He's gotten a lot less arrogant in the past few years. I suspect he is behind Theon's improvement as well. At some times Robb's downright tolerable."

Her brother laughed. "Well that's high praise coming from you." He paused, grinning at her. "If I'm honest, I think the two of you are perfect for each other."

She swatted at him playfully, and then the Blackmyre siblings turned to go into the keep.