Prologue
Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, gazed upon the grounds of his ancestral home as he basked in the crisp afternoon air accustomed of summers in the North.
The grounds filled with the sound of wood striking wood, followed by a chorus of childish taunts and giggles. The high lord could not hide the smile that touched his lips as he gazed upon the sight below him from his perch on the archway above.
Under the watchful eye of master-at-arms Ser Rodrik Cassel, his eldest son and heir to Winterfell, Robb, was in the midst of a "duel." A frustrated Ser Rodrik would often shout instructions as the battle with wooden weapons intensified, but his training fell on deaf ears.
In any other situation, Lord Eddard knew Robb would take heed to Ser Rodrik's wisdom. Despite being just a boy of twelve years, Robb took to his training easily and hungrily. The young lad was maturing fast into the Lord he was destined to be.
But today was a different type of battle. It was not his heir learning to wield a sword that he would one day used command armies. Today he was a twelve-year-old battling for his pride. Today he was truly a child.
Robb had one supporter in his corner - Theon of House Greyjoy. Lord Eddard had taken Theon hostage after Lord Balon Greyjoy's failed rebellion against the King of Westeros, Robert Baratheon.
Theon served as Lord Eddard's ward and was close to all of his children, especially to Robb. That rang true today as Theon taunted Robb's opponent and cheer on the young Stark when his blows connected.
Robb's opponent was not without a supporter. Jon Snow took the side against his half-brother. Snow, the bastard name of the North, was a reminder of Jon's heritage and the bane of Eddard's honor.
He cared and treated Jon as if he were a trueborn son. Jon even held more the appearance of a Stark than his brothers. Robb had the fair coloring of the Tullys of Riverun, his mother's family, where Jon had the dark features characteristic of the Starks.
It was Robb's opponent that warmed Lord Eddard's heart and brought a laugh to his lips.
She was a sight to be seen, at times almost a wild as those that live beyond the Wall.
Her raven black hair was long and tangled from running and playing amongst the grounds of Winterfell.
Her cherub face fitting for a child was covered in mud and scratches and faint bruises, matching the faded green dress she wore that was tattered and stained.
Her brilliant green eyes, a striking trait from her father's side of the family, shone bright and fierce with intensity as she matched Robb's attacks.
Though Robb's age, she was much smaller. He was powerful and pushed her back with each blow from his wooden sword, but she would not give up. Her speed played to her advantage, as she was able to whirl around hits and give solid slaps to Robb's knees.
Fierce as her uncle, Lord Eddard thought, and as proud as her aunt for neither the young warrior princess or his son wanted to lose this "battle."
Lord Eddard tightened his cloak. The chill in the air was fierce and a late summer snow would soon be falling. The dueling children in the yard were drenched in a light sweat that betrayed the nature of the weather for Lord Eddard knew that the summer was waning fast.
Winter is Coming.
With that thought, he knew the summer children he saw playing in the yard did not know what the darkness of winter welcomed to the realm.
With their musical laughter cutting the air, he did not have the heart to break their summer dreams and warn them of the winter that was rising swiftly.
No. Not today, but soon. They must be ready. The long warm season only forewarns for an even longer and crueler winter.
"Why is she not with Sansa practicing her stitching with Septa Mordane?" a voice called behind him and interrupted his fears of the winter to come.
His wife Lady Catelyn Stark soon joined him as she surveyed the scene below with a knowing look she often gave when the young warrior was in her presence.
Her gaze faltered as she looked upon the Jon Snow. Catelyn did not hide her feelings for the bastard. She wrapped her hands around her swelled stomach. A new young Stark would soon be born to Winterfell.
"She was," Lord Eddard commented, "but you know as well as I, she is cunning as a fox and never stays for long."
"She is too smart for her own good," Catelyn said with her smile returning as she watched the battle play out. "She is a fitting challenge for Robb."
Lord Eddard knew his wife was not speaking of being just a good challenge for his eldest son on the battlefield alone. It would not be many more years before Robb would be of age and a marriage would be arranged.
Catelyn had her eye on the young girl since she first visited Winterfell seven years ago. Long before she was untamable and ferocious as one of the boys.
In those days, she was a timid and quiet child, but it did not take the Stark boys long to break her shell.
She and Robb grew up together and were as thick as thieves. It seemed to Catelyn it was inevitable for the two to be wed one day. Though still young, a fitting match they did seem to make. For everything Robb, was not, she was. Highborn with ties to two of the most powerful families within the kingdom, he supposed no finer match could be made for his son.
"She belongs here," Catelyn finished when Lord Eddard did not reply for he was still trapped in his musing. "King's Landing is no longer her home. You know that as well as I."
"But at the end of the day, it is my lady," Lord Eddard said gravely. "A raven from King's Landing came this morning. Ser Jaime Lannister rides to Winterfell to return her to her family. The little one's yearly visit soon comes to an end."
"The Kingslayer," Catelyn spat. "The boys will be heartbroken when they hear the news, and so will she."
Catelyn ended with a tone heavy with sadness that matched her lord husband's. Over the years, it seemed harder and harder for the Starks, especially the Stark children, to bid farewell to the young girl. She was much a part of the Stark family as any of those that bore the name.
Though as wild as the wind, Catelyn had come to see the girl as her own daughter through the years as the child spent months at a time in Winterfell with the Starks.
Before the birth of Sansa, the girl was the only daughter Catelyn had come to know and love. Catelyn and Eddard had practically raised the child more than her own family had.
Though Catelyn had disapproved of the decision at the time of her first visit, she felt the young girl needed her own flesh and blood more than ever, she was grateful the gods had brought her into her family's life for she had seen the joy her friendship brought to Robb.
"I believe it is best to not spoil their last days together," Lord Eddard spoke as the laughter below grew louder. "The Kingslayer will not be here tomorrow. Gods know I do not want to exchange their laughter for tears."
"Tears only last so long. She will not be gone long before she is back in our midst again," Catelyn countered.
"I wish that were true, my love," Eddard spoke. His face revealed that more bitter news would follow and crushed Catelyn's want to see the light in the situation. "It seems this will be her last visit. She is much too wild for the likes of her family. She will be twelve on her name day and is over due to learn the ways of the court and to be a proper lady of the South."
"Her cousins are also of suitable age to be companions," Lord Eddard continued when his wife did not answer. He could she the anger rushing to her face and the protectiveness she felt towards the girl boiling.
Losing her would be like losing one of their own for both of them, though Lord Eddard knew this day would come.
"It is time, Cat. We knew this was not permanent."
"But wild?" Catelyn responded heatedly.
She took offense that the child's family thought she had become wild since spending her days with the boys in the North. It was an insult to the Starks and the North. "She is just a child. She is meant to be a tad unruly."
As if on cue, the young girl decided to display the hint of the wildness that her family mentioned and wished to squash.
During the childish taunts of battle, Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow were swapping chides about the champions they backed in the duel. During the war of words, Theon slighted Jon by calling the boy a bastard, as he often did, yet Theon made a costly mistake by using the term in front of the dueling lady.
She was fiercely loyal to all of the Stark children she had befriended throughout her time at Winterfell, but Lord Eddard could not deny the special bond she had with Jon Snow. A bond that only an orphan and a bastard could forge for they understand each other in ways no one else could possible grasps.
She protected Jon as if he were her own brother. Lord Eddard's affection grew deeper for the young one as he witness the love she had for all his children, but especially that of the boy that was unwanted by other members of his family.
She put her affection for Jon Snow on display as she dropped her wooden sword in mid-swing as the word "bastard" reached her ears. She instantly turned her wrath on the young Greyjoy. Lord Eddard could not hear the words she spoke to his ward for her voice that was once loudly calling out taunts to his eldest son fell deathly silent.
Before Theon could retaliate with words of his own, she had balled up her fist and threw a punch that connected soundly with his nose.
With her scrawny arms, the hit could not have packed much force, but the shock of the blow placed Theon on his back much to laughter of both Jon and Robb. Even from high above, Lord Eddard spotted a tiny trail of blood leaving his ward's nose.
Ser Rodrick already turned on the girl with scolds so loud all of Winterfell would be able to hear the invoke punishment for her outburst.
Lady Catelyn release a gasp after witnessing the scene below and her face flushed a light shade of pink of embarrassment from just defending the girl moments ago.
"She is just a child," Lord Eddard teased. "She is meant to be unruly."
A sly smile touched his features as he repeated his wife statement with a shake of his head.
"He is a horrible influence," Catelyn muttered darkly. Lord Eddard did not have to venture a guess that the reference was meant for Jon. "You need to punish them all for this outburst."
"I believe she handled Theon's punishment," Lord Eddard quietly joked. "I do not believe the boys will let him forget this for quite some time. As for her, Ser Rodrick has it under control."
After a stern talking, the master-at-arms was using a nearby twig to strike the girl firmly on her outstretched hands as punishment. If she planned to fight like a boy, she would receive punishment like a boy. The several strikes left small marks on her hands and sliced the skin once or twice as red blood welled up on her porcelain skin.
Lord Eddard mused it would be another scar to go with countless other marks, bruises and scabs the girl accumulated during her time in Winterfell.
If she wanted to cry, she dared not let a tear fall. Not in front of the boys, she would not dare. Her pride was much too large, and she would not give them the satisfaction that she was weaker.
"She reminds me much of my sister," Lord Eddard whispered quietly as he remembered ghosts of his past.
"All the more reason she is meant to be a Stark," Lady Catelyn countered. "Don't let them take her Ned."
"They are her family," Lord Eddard replied defeated. "We cannot deny them their own blood."
"Robb will be devastated," Catelyn's motherly concerns cried as she thought of her eldest son losing one of his closest friends.
"It will do him well," Lord Eddard commented. "He needs to grow strong to lead. This may well be the course that sees him grow into a man, and the gods only know what she will grow into if she stays running wild in the North. If she is to one day be the Lady of Winterfell, she needs her aunt's graces and charm. I know the little lion; she will find her way back. She always does."
Catelyn's smile found her lips once more. She watched the young girl picked up her sword once again before smacking Robb on the back and bulleting through the grounds with him hot on her heels. Ser Rodrick continued shouting after the children as if the short break in action never occurred.
Her lord husband was right. She would grace Winterfell with her presence again. She was too stubborn and determined. She would find a way back to the Starks.
"She will be the death of him someday," she joked as she smiled sweetly at the two children chasing each other as if nothing else in the world ever mattered.
Lord Eddard matched her gaze with a smile of his own.
"There are worse ways to die."