Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. All characters belong to George R.R. Martin. I only own the OC characters.

Chapter 1

The Warmth of Ice

I was born in the cold. My first cries were heard as snow began to fall from the grey cloudy sky. I was conceived in fire.

My father knew many secrets about the Targaryen family. In fact, he knew that one of his ancestors was a Targaryen bastard. Thus, why we were so close to the Targaryen House in the first place. The Targaryen family was so close, literally and figuratively. Between the incest and extramarital children, they accepted anyone who shared their blood, even if they weren't pure Targaryen blood.

My mother was related to Stark's, distantly though. So distantly that they did not recognize her as a relative. Another one of her ancestors is believed to be related to the Targaryen family as well.

In the midst of the rebellion, my father secluded my mother, who was carrying me, as best as he could. But with battles breaking out everywhere, there were only so many places they could hide. It was when my parents found Rhaegar Targaryen that they felt safe. That didn't last long either. Lyanna Stark was their and both her and my mother where carrying children. There had been handmaidens and doulas. But there was one that my mother and Lyanna Stark shared.

This doula had an affiliation with blood magic and such. My mother trusted her and the doula helped Lyanna Stark give birth. It is unclear what all happened next. Next thing I knew, was told, Eddard Stark brought his nephew, which he declared as his bastard son to spare his life, my mother who was heavily pregnant with me, and the doula to Winterfell.

Ned Stark named his 'son' Jon Snow after his mentor, Jon Arryn. A month upon our arrival, I was born. And it was an event that one wished they had and had not seen. There was so much blood. The maids kept bringing cloths and rags, but the bleeding would not stop. The doula was chanting as mother screamed in agony. I later learned that she was chanting in Valyrian. My mother died of blood loss as I came into the world. The first thing I heard was her last agonizing scream. The next was the chanting doula. After that, Catelyn Stark ordering the doula to be ceased and me being placed in her arms. But, the doula was do with her chanting by time the Winterfell guards apprehended her.

I was restless after my birth. My mother was dead and I was told that I apparently refused to take any from any other woman that Catelyn Stark hired. So, Catelyn gave up on hiring any one because I grew sick and she then offered her milk to me. I drank from her till I was two. Jon was the same exact way as well. Catelyn treated the both of us as though we were her own. But she still harbored some ill feelings towards the both of us. There was a reluctance in her eyes. In her eyes I could see that she did not truly want to take care of an orphaned war child and a child that is the result of a love that started Robert's Rebellion. Lady Catelyn Stark was raised to turn her head from anyone not of highborn blood. She was raised to look down and sneer at bastard born out of wedlock and such. But her heart could not allow her to turn her back on helpless babes. Her heart was not made of stone.

Only her, Ned, and my mother had known of Jon's true parentage. As babies, Jon and I shared a crib. Though he was months older than me, we were inseparable. He was my other half. There was something different about me, in me. Something that always told me to stay with him, it could be my brain or my heart. His name was my first word. Well, my nickname for him anyway, Snowflake. I love the snow. I love his last name because it was something I love. Whenever he was discouraged by being called a bastard, I reminded him that I was there with him and that words should never hurt him when I am beside him. Swords and axes are what kills, but words wound so deeply.

Wherever he went, so did I. People thought that we behaved like twins. We were so connected. As we grew into children instead of babes, they began separating us. They said that I needed to learn how to be a lady and Jon needed to learn how to be a man. I hated that. That was the first thing I ever hated, how our world limited me and other girls. I knew thay I was capable of more. I knew that I would not let those expectations limit my mind or body.

On my second name day, I received gifts from Oberyn Martell and his wife, Ellaria Sand, along with Doran Martell. They sent me books on the many languages across the Narrow Sea and ancient tongues. There was also books on the culture of Dorne. Though I was too young to read them, my Septa read them to me. Lady Stark, Catelyn, had removed the books that were all about weapons and fighting from me though. In her mind, it was not a woman's place to learn such things. She upheld this belief and once she gave birth to Sansa, she was distracted enough so that I would temporarily borrow the books and have Ned Stark read them to me. Even though he did not want to go against his wife's will, he believed that every child, boy or girl, should know about weapons and fighting. He just prefered that women not have to. And since I could talk more than adequately at the age of two, I would tell him,

"Most of the time women do not have a choice and once there is no one to protect them, a woman should always be able to protect herself. Having a dagger does not guarantee safety, knowing how to use it does."

Ned laughed and stated that he prayed the gods for his children to be as wise as me. From then on, the bedtime stories he would tell Jon, Robb, and I were from the Dornish books. Lady Stark never knew. As we grew older, Robb got his own room but I threw a huge fit when they tried to move Jon's things from our room. The look on Jon's face was thay of confusion and shock. For hours no one could find a way to calm me. For hours they endured my unworldly loud screams. They finally gave up and my Snowflake hugged me as I collected myself. He thanked me and we played in our room the rest of the day.

When I reached the age of 5, it was decided that I was to go to Dorne for 6 months. But with the journey to and from, I would be gone for a year. Jon was pleased for me being able to go places and I was having conflicting feelings. I wanted to go but I didn't want to leave my snowflake alone. In the end, I went to Dorne. I promised to bring back things for Jon: a Dornish dagger, several Dornish books on war tactis, and a set of Dornish chest plates. Oberyn was very kind to me. He let me play with his daughters and he showed me his weapons. He knew how to keep a child entertained too. My first visit to Dorne was a dream to me. I learned so much about the world and the truth beyond what Lady Stark and my Septa told me, that when I returned to Winterfell, I no longer believed in the tales of Prince Charming's and damsels in distress.

My name is Bellana Amberdone and I am the last of my name. I have no brothers or sisters. No half brothers or sisters either. my parents had siblings once, but they all either were killed, died young, or were long gone before Robert's Rebellion even started. The Stark's are the only true family I've ever known. But the Martell's are the only family I've ever felt like I was a part of. Sure the Stark's treat me respectfully and as a child. The Martell's, however, they give me the undeniable truth of the world and treat me as their equal, not as a damaged child.

Sometimes while I'd reside in Dorne, I would think about never going back to Winterfell. I didn't mind the cold and I liked the heat of the south. But my thoughts always drifted to my Snowflake. He is the warmth that I want to keep with me at all times. He is my best friend that I will always bestow my trust upon.