Okay, so I'm really new at this FanFiction stuff. But I've been having Game of Thrones withdrawals since the second season finale, and I figured this would be a great outlet. Basically, this starts out around the first episode, and tells of a stranger entering Winterfell, and her interactions with the Stark household.

I hope to have the second chapter up tomorrow – maybe even a third, because these are pretty short chapters. I apologize for countless grammatical errors, because I'm on summer break and really haven't written much since school ended. Oh, and I wrote this late at night, so I'm going to put this up before I get a chance to read it in the morning (whilst fully functional) and realize how much I hate it and delete it. So this is it. No regrets...

-J

Chapter 1 – The Girl

The masked stranger dropped the coins on the counter. They rattled for a bit before finally settling.

"You can get a fortnight out of that," The innkeeper nodded and plucked the coins off the table, looking in the eyes of the stranger, and the only uncovered portion of the strangers face. When the stranger didn't reply, the innkeeper nodded towards a room next to the door, "That one aint got any renters." The stranger turned curtly, and retired to the room, without uttering a word.

The stranger had many feminine qualities. The slender body, the lithe movements, even the eyes were strikingly female. However, the stranger walked so briskly – not to mention the sword swinging at their side, or the long bow mounted to their back. The ideas bounced around the head of the innkeep, as he was trying to slowly determine the identity of this odd character. He was getting nowhere. The strip of cloth stretched across the strangers face, just below the striking green eyes, was all that remained between his questions and his answers. The stranger was always in and out. Sometimes leaving just before dawn, sometimes just after dusk. But the stranger never entered or left the inn unless it was dark. Giving the innkeeper only candle light to stare.

"I'm a woman," the stranger nearly sighed, just before leaving on one of her morning escapades.

"Well, I-" The innkeeper was stunned. As the stranger never even glanced at him.

"Cut the horse shit. Don't act like I can't see you staring at me. Trying to figure me out," The stranger began approaching the desk, walking a little too hasty for the innkeepers liking. She stopped just inches away from the innkeeper's face, hands pressed against the wooden surface, leaning into his cautious stare. "Any other assumptions you'd like to inform me of?"

When the inkeep didn't reply, she leaned closer – revealing the blade she held in her hand.

"No. None, milady!" The innkeeper burst out, utterly terrified.

"Good," she said, relaxing. "My identity is none of your business," she paused, "Now , If you please…" she gestured toward the coin purse on the counter. The innkeeper handed it to her, shakily. After pocketing her catch, she began walking toward the door, backwards. "Oh, and I'm no lady." Just as she was about to pivot, and turn out the door she bumped into something. No. Someone. She recognized the clang of armor and instantly drew her blade, facing her opponent.

"Are you patronizing my friend, here?" The stranger looked over her opponent, weighing her options. She started at his face, he had black curls, and had minimal facial hair. There wasn't a menacing look on his face, more like a quizzical one. She couldn't tell if his question was genuine, or if he was questioning her next move. He was medium sized, but much bigger than her. Her eyes shifted down, as he was drawing his sword. Slowly. Maybe he was cautious. Maybe he was reluctant to fight a woman. Either way, she had to make her decision. Her blade spoke for her, as she began swinging and slashing at him.

She was skilled in battle, much better than the man expected. He had no desire to fight a woman, and merely defended himself. Maybe she would hit hard enough to lose her sword, then he could subdue her. Her strikes were random, yet methodical. She fought as though her life depended on it. How could he tell her it didn't? He thought of yielding, but that might mean suffering a stab wound at the hands of a woman. If he retreated, it would mean he was a coward. A coward and a bastard…. That doesn't really have a nice ring to it. So he continued blocking each blow. And each blow took that much more out of him. He didn't even notice the innkeep had escaped out the door, until the inkeep returned with two men. He recognized them instantly. His brother, as well as Theon Greyjoy- who was almost doubled over laughing.

"Jon!" Robb yelled, suppressing a laugh himself. So, the innkeeper's tale was actually true. Jon Snow being beaten in combat, by a woman. The girl began backing toward the wall, at the sight of her two new opponents. Her eyes shifted between the three.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Robb inquired, approaching the cornered woman.

"He drew his sword on me…" the woman started, staring at the floor.

"Oh please," Jon scoffed, "you were threatening that innkeeper, and I resolved the dispute."

"By getting your ass beaten by a woman?" Theon choked out, in between laughs.

"She was robbing me!" The innkeeper shouted, "This man saved me," he motioned toward Jon.

"Is that true?" Robb asked the woman. The woman tossed to coin purse at the feet of the innkeeper, and nodded. "Then you will have to answer to my father."