Winter's Song
They say that things just can not grow
Beneath the winter snow
Or so I have been told
They say we're buried far
Just like a distant star
I simply can not hold
-.-
Chapter One
The Forgotten House
Timeline: Seventeen years after Robert's Rebellion
Fia
House Baltimoore - The Hailstrom
_._
Deep into the wolfswood that was nestled by the thick canopies of trees stood a large wall made of stone and timber. Moss had grown across the damp rocks yet the crags between the walls can let someone peek into the quiet land. It was miles away from kingsroad and the villages that surrounded it were destroyed, leaving rubble and ruin that was covered with snow and dirt of past winters. The Northerners had whispered that the old Baltimoore stronghold was haunted, deserted by the Lord and Lady Baltimoore during the Targaryen reign. However, beyond the stone wall was the seat of House Baltimoore, Hailstrom; and its inhabitants are very much alive.
Whilst the Starks had been true with those who were loyal with their family, the Baltimoores were branded as a disgrace. During Robert's Rebellion, the Baltimoores had not heeded the call for the banner to aid their ward. Instead, they ignored their lord's orders and holed themselves in Hailstrom. Their sigil which was a white crescent moon was forever tarnished with the Warden of the North. Their words; "Blood Above All" spoke true and they were dismissed as cowards and traitors.
The dark somber atmosphere was ever present in Hailstrom; the bleak air had hung over the Baltimoore land. The smallfolks who served under the house had decreased more than half. The firm lord had slowly began to fade into a shell of a once proud man now sits on his wooden throne while his lordly sword that bore the house sigil was slowly devoured by rust. Alfrid Baltimoore, the decisive and virtuous lord was now a decrypted man whose skin turned into a shade of sallow tone that will make any man's flesh squirm and his hair was brittle and grey like dirtied snow. Unlike the lords of the North who had the scars in their bodies to show their bravery; his skin was smooth and unblemished but now they hung from his bones like old rags as he spent his time drinking.
Lady Jayne Baltimoore nee Slate had grown weary with her husband's attitude ever since the usurper had gained the iron throne. The strong-willed woman had always supported Alfrid ever since their betrothal but now her faith with him had faded. There were talks that the Baltimoore matriarch had chosen to wear dark coloured dresses to show her sorrow. The eldest son, Quiltin had taken over his father's duties such as leading the small council and assuring the stock of gold and grain but he always honoured his father's order; never communicate with the outside world. The boy was lean and sickly when he was a babe and the maester had trouble keeping him healthy but he grew up to be a fine young man with his mother's features and in a healthy physical state. His brown curls were the same colours as chestnuts and his dark blue eyes was deep with wisdom.
Quiltin was followed by a daughter, Fianne, who had cried for hours after being born. A fussy child who won't sit still and proved to be rather stubborn, a trait that was passed on to every Baltimoore it seems.
Two years after her came Rotcher, a sweet boy who was innocent to the world. His cherubic round face and black hair was a grand mixture of Slate and Baltimoore heritage but he was a crybaby who demanded attention if he wanted something.
Jayne had asked her husband to plan a betrothal with their children and an influential house but he won't yield. For now, the Baltimoores were thought of as an extinct house and Alfrid Baltimoore would keep it that way.
-.-
The Godswood that had stood the test of time was occupied not by Lord Baltimoore but a lady of five and ten. Her long black hair that fell on the middle of her back was tied in a traditional Northern braid and her coat was made with thick mountain lion fur to shield her from the coming winter. Fianne Baltimoore opened her eyes to reveal two gray blue orbs that turns to liquid silver whenever she steps in the sun's light. Her face was unlike her mother's delicate features that inspired songs of maiden fair and the ladies that graced the castles. She shared her father's strong jowls and a rather large forehead which she kept hidden with her hair. The clothes she wore beneath the coat was simple linen winter dress of gray with black highlights and her feet was covered with fur lined shoes that was two sizes too big for her. Usually a lady wears silk or high quality fabric but practical-wise, Fia preferred comfort over vanity. Plus there weren't any seamstress who would work with such limited material.
She took a long deep breath and noted the puff of air that exited her lips. Winter was coming and she overheard the small council talk about the decline of food and they will be forced to take food from the smallfolk. There was a moment of unrest when the Master of Coin had told them that their supply of gold can't support the pay for the hunters and trappers so hunting became a hard chore. Not many abled men can help them and it caused a series of distress within council and the men had begun to hotly debate over the solution that it pushed Quiltin to his limit as his voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.
Never had she hear such a terrifying sound that came from her usually docile brother. Maybe the hardships of acting as the lord had cornered her brother like a wounded beast trying to keep the attackers at bay. It pained her to see Quiltin like that. He was her best friend and confidante; the anchor that kept her hopes that their house will restore its honour. But as she watched the shadows under his eyes grew, so did her anger towards her father who just sat on the chair made out of beech and watched the days ran by with an apathetic attitude. It wasn't fair for her mother, for Quiltin who had to grow up by the age of two and, for Rotcher and for the people who had served their house for generations.
Fia shook her head before she sat by the weirwood tree that overlooked the pond and quietly brushed the pale bark with her fingers. The tips of her fingers was filled with fresh callouses by playing the harp. Her mother was an accomplished musician who spent most of her time writing songs and singing. She tried to sing songs like her but she had failed miserably and even earned the name 'Fia the Toneless'. The harp was a proper instrument for a lady but she didn't have the grace or the patience to properly play the damned thing to its fullest.
Her eyes gazed upon the tree where a face was carved. It was a grave face- a face of someone who will broke into tears any moment. These were trying times, she could see the foundations of their house crack to the earth and her father could care any less that Fia could hardly blame her mother for acting so cold towards Alfrid.
As if the gods heard her thoughts, soft footfalls were heard and there stood her mother. Jayne was an epitome of timeless grace. Her face may have aged but her beauty was still evident under those crow-feet lines. Her chestnut hair was kept into an elaborate bun and her posture demanded respect. The brooch that signified their house, a crescent moon pin fashioned from silver, was pinned to her maroon dress. Worry was ever present in her eyes as she looked upon her only daughter and this time it was mixed with a foreign emotion she had not seen for so long; hope.
"I hope I didn't disturb you in the middle of a prayer my love" she said as she approached Fia.
"Not at all, I was just in deep thought" she answered honestly and gestured her mother to sit with her by the bench. She watched the older woman play with her fingers; no doubt Jayne was thinking hard about something.
Then her mother sighed and looked over the pond where several red heart-shaped leaves floated upon the surface, "It's been more than a turn of moon that I've visited this place. Sometimes I wonder if the gods listened to my prayers at all. Your brother is doing everything he can to save this house from ruin but he could only do so much."
Fia bit her lip as she notice a single tear fall from her mother's eye but the woman carried on with her speech, "House Baltimoore's name and reputation had sunk lower into the mud as time passed. We need allies if we want to keep our house alive but your father-" Her hands squeezed tightly together "-Insisted that we can do this without help. Gods help us, he's a stubborn fool. Quiltin had asked if we can offer our fruits to neighboring houses but we can't give everything lest we find ourselves hungry in the coming winter."
"Is there anything I can do mother?" she asked. It was irritating to see everyone around her suffer and yet she can't do anything to help. What good can a young lady who had no special talent offer for her people?
Jayne faced her daughter and held her hands with her own. Her dark sapphire eyes held her daughter's grayish blue ones with determination, "I had sent a raven to your Aunt Kendra. You shall pose as her ward and she will send you to Winterfell under the guise of finding work. Through you, we may be able to gain the alliance we need."
Fia blinked as the information slowly seeped into her brain; her mother's younger sister was the lady of House Tallhart. Surely she can find allies in Tallhart as well.
"Winterfell? Why can't Aunt Kendra take me in House Tallhart as her own ward?"
Jayne shook her head and patted the back of her hand in a soothing manner, "We had talked about that matter but she assured me that you will find greater opportunities in Winterfell. My daughter" she cajoled as she gently lifted Fia's chin to look up to her, "Be vigilant. Your father isn't aware of this and I will tell him that I have sent you to study being a proper lady to Kendra. He will be difficult but he will yield once I soothe his worries but Quiltin was told of the plan and he gave his blessing as the acting-lord of this house."
Fia felt the need to say no, that her place was in Hailstrom with her family. But she needed to be brave, she had to be. Maybe it was the self-importance or the ignorance of her young mind but she took this mission by the heart. So she bowed to her lady-mother and said, "I shall do as you asked."
Jayne gave Fia a tired smile as she brushed the bangs that covered Fia's wider than normal forehead, "I'm proud of you my sweetling. Perhaps it is confidence but I'm sure that you'll restore this house's honour."
The statement almost shook her resolve. The future of her family rested on her shoulders. She must be successful in bringing allies and she hoped that by the time comes; her father would snap out of his deluded state and come join them in the real world.
"... Have you already planned Quiltin's betrothal?" she quietly asked.
Her mother's face said it all; her lips pursed and an annoyed expression came to play on her face. "I wanted to ask if he could try and create an alliance with House Forrester but (of course) your father wouldn't allow it."
Fia wanted to berate her mother for being so lenient with her lord-father but she held her tongue. One of the difficulties of being a lady was to know your proper place, even if you're in the right. One thing had left her wondering though...
"What is to be my work in Winterfell?" Maybe she could find work in the kitchens. Anything is better than nothing... except working in a whorehouse which (thankfully) doesn't exist in the walls of Hailstrom.
Jayne smiled widely for the first time in years, "You'll be Lady Sansa Stark's handmaiden."
_._
Next Chapters on Winter's Song
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'Jon Snow… Lord Stark's bastard?'
.
'Who are you?'
'I'm… Fianne Holt my lady'
.
'There are instances that people don't appear what they claim to be… why should I trust you?'
.
'Remember child, the North remembers'
.
A/N: My first Game of Thrones fanfic. Yes, I know some if not most, fans hated OC's pairing with canon characters and I may be flogged by Dany/Jon and Ygritte/Jon fans but please understand that if you don't like the pairing then please don't read this. It's short yes but it's just an introduction to the main character. I didn't want to make a Mary Sue character and I also didn't want her to be overly beautiful because I'm more focused on the character development and personality.
I will interchange between POVs and I will try my best to keep them within character. This is a mixture of the books, the tv show AND the telltale games because I want to use the characters especially the Forresters.
Please leave a fave/alert and a review so I will know whether to continue this or not because I won't continue writing something that no one reads. Comments and suggestions are duly noted just please.. NO FLAMES.
No reviews = No updates
Until next time. Bye bye~
Pronunciations:
Fianne – Fee-uhnn
'Fia' – Fee-yuh
Quiltin- Kil-tin