Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine, anything you do not recognise is mine... pretty simple, right? Happy reading!
The North is a wonderful place as equally dangerous as it is beautiful. A place where winter rules paramount and Houses both Great and Small are bound to each other by a history that runs as deep as the roots of the Heart Trees.
A place where children's bedtime stories whisper of direwolves, bears and giants, and the blue-eyed dead who once terrorised the land.
It is here in the North, hidden amongst the Northern Mountains where the Last River begins its journey that one can find the ivy-covered walls of Evergreen. Perched atop a rocky hill that protrudes from the meeting point of all the northern streams, the fortress, infamous for its glittering glasshouses stands guard over the meadows of Dawn's Steppe.
Courage and Compassion… they were the words of House Gale. The same words that were neatly stitched onto the eagle banner that hung beside my Father's banner on the wall in the Great Hall.
Upon the marriage of my parents, they had joined not only their Houses, though also their lands. Now our lands stretched beyond the confines of Evergreen, extending out across the meadows and mountains as far as imagination could stretch. Well, maybe not that far -
"Eira, you'll never believe what I heard!" the bell-like voice of my little sister pulled me from my thoughts. I turned away from the window to face her. She swayed eagerly back and forth from her heels to her toes looking precisely as a mischievous little sister should. Her loose mahogany curls were decorated with random bits of golden straw, and her innocent silver eyes were wide with excitement.
I smiled at her, lightly chewing my bottom lip to prevent my laughter as I patted the spot next to me on the window seat, "And what have you heard, bright one?". Her smile grew at my gesture, revealing her adorable dimples.
"Well!" she began, plopping down beside me, "I heard that the Starks are coming to visit, not just the Lord and Lady Stark, but their children as well. How exciting is that! I mean the last visitors we had were the Umbers, and they don't have any children my age."
"Have you been eavesdropping again?" I questioned, my brow raised as I attempted to pull the closest thing to a disapproving look.
Seren flashed me a sheepish look, her eyes shifting to the floor, "I didn't mean to, honest! I was up in the loft reading a book, the one about all the Houses of Westeros when I overheard Father telling Ser Niclas the news. I couldn't help but hear…"
"Well… I won't tell Mother, if," I paused for a moment trying to regain her attention. Her gaze flicked from the floor to me, "You promise not to eavesdrop again."
"I promise!" she replied, "I'll try really hard not to."
I wrapped an arm around Seren pulling her into an embrace, "That's all I ask… I don't want you to get in trouble."
"Who's in trouble?"
My eyes shot towards the doorway where our eldest brother leant lazily, his arms folded across his chest and a 'charming' smirk pulling at his lips.
"Aiden!" Seren cried, leaping from her seat, flying across the room and into his awaiting arms, "You're home."
His smirk melted into the smile that only the youngest of our family could put on his face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her little legs wrapped around his waist as tightly as her arms wound around his neck.
"Hello, little star," Aiden mumbled, "I missed you."
Seren pulled away, her big silver eyes scanning his face, "I missed you too."
"You shall have to tell me about all of the adventures you've had since I've been gone," he smiled, placing the child back on her feet.
I rose to my feet, gently fixing my dress before I made my way across the room to embrace him.
"Dear sister, you grow more beautiful every day," he said, wrapping me in a warm brotherly hug, "Soon father will need my help to chase all your suitors away."
A gasp escaped my lips as I pulled myself from his embrace. "You wouldn't dare!"
Seren giggled, and Aiden's deep chuckles were quick to join. I felt my cheeks warm slightly though I too joined their laughter.
"Father sent me to find you both for supper. He has some important news for us all."
"Important news?" I questioned, my brow rising in mock surprise as I shared a look with my sister. "I wonder what it's about." Seren smothered a giggle behind her tiny hand as she slipped out of the room leaving the two of us together.
Aiden shrugged his shoulders in the way that Mother so openly despised, his face barely masking his suspicion, "The sooner we get to supper the sooner we will find out." I nodded in agreement following Aiden through the door.
The hallways of Evergreen were beautiful. The walls were covered in intricate carvings that depicted the stories of Westeros, of the North and the people who lived here. The ceilings were made of glass allowing sunlight to illuminate the upper floor during the day. Whoever had first designed the castle had placed a lot of thought into it.
"Was that straw I saw in Seren's hair?" Aiden asked, his kind amber eyes coming to rest on me.
I laughed nodding in response, "You didn't imagine that. I almost laughed at Seren when she came bursting into the solar."
He shook his head a smile pulling at his lips, "Hiding in the stables again I bet. What will we do with our wild northern star?"
I sighed, sharing a look with my fellow 'first-born', "What can we do with her but love her?"
A comfortable silence fell upon us as we arrived at the doors to the Great Hall.
"There you are," a familiar voice called, "Marc, I found them!"
"Where were they?" a matching voice answered, as the identical form of our other, younger twin brother appeared. "Never mind, hurry up we're late, and I'm starving," Marc huffed pushing open the door. Chatter filled the hall, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air.
"You're starving? I was the one that missed out on dinner today!" Bryn huffed, hurrying after his twin.
We took our seats at the table offering our parents a smile and warm greeting as we served out what we desired to eat. Seren sat between the ebony headed Marc and Bryn recalling some aspect of one of her lessons. Mother (on one end of the table) and Father (on the other) both seemed interested in whatever she was saying. Aiden and I sat opposite our other siblings, merely content with the task of eating and listening to the familiar noise of Supper.
My eyes drifted to the lifelike images that adorned the walls of the Great Hall, a tribute to the Battle of Dawn.
Wildflowers and thistle of House Norrey danced in the mountain air as the Last River flowed silently passed. In the distance, the familiar walls of Evergreen watched over a raging battle. Arrows protruded from crumpled bodies, warriors stood forever locked in the deadly dance struggling to gain the upper hand as an eagle soared high above them in the moon-filled sky. An ancient fir tree (House Liddle's sigil) stood resolute against the gory scene, its large roots curled tightly around its foes. Amidst it all, the imposing figure of a rearing horse (the same steed illustrated on the banner of my Father's house), its armour-clad rider, Morgan, wielding the enchanted sword Golau.
Grandfather had once told us the story of the Ghost Horse, a mythical steed made of mist and snow who none could ride except he who was destined to do so. The beast was a sign, warning of the dark times that were to come. Upon his arrival, a shining star that burned by both day and night appeared in the sky above the point where all the streams meet. It had summoned the people of the Northern Mountains… According to Father, this was how our House, House Whyte, acquired its motto: 'Light Calls Us'.
Legends say that the Ghost Horse will return one day to claim another rider. When I was younger, I had once entertained the idea that I would be the one, the legendary rider who would rid our lands of those who sought to harm us.
My Diwrnod y Crwydro Ceffylau (Day of the Wandering Horse) came and went. I walked the plains of Dawn's Steppe well into the night, losing myself in the starlit darkness before I finally stumbled upon my destined mount. Unlike the mythical beast of legend, of which I had so frequently dreamed about, a gentle golden filly chose me. I had named her Sundancer, for she was indeed an image of grace.
"Really?" Seren squeaked, her voice laced in a mixture of both surprise and fear. My eyes rapidly zeroed in on the apprehensive face of my sister as she nervously fiddled with the tiny little corkscrew curl that brushed against her cheek.
"Yes, little one," the baritone voice of our Father answered, "It is time you found a companion."