Her eyes were blue like the deep sea sparkling in the summer when the sun hit as she watched the nobles dance till they became tired and limp. She didn't understand how anyone could celebrate during the war. One side said that it was over and the other side said that it was far from it. How could anyone tell?

The world often confused her greatly. They drank and they drank...till they became tired and limp. The noble ladies at the tables kept on glancing in her direction and then would turn to each other and giggle. She knew that they were making fun of her, mocking her.

She couldn't do anything about it for four reasons. Sometimes they were said and other times they were hit into her head either by hand, fist, or whatever was near.

One...she was a girl.

Two…she was seven namedays old.

Three...she was little.

Four...she was a bastard.

Vhaera Rivers knew nothing of her mother or father. This had always been her life. She would always be a servant. Never the lady or the queen or a noble. Her life would be lived in rags and filth. Her lord would always taunt her in the shadows of his castle, telling her that when she would be older that her life may get better so long as she obeys him. He said that she was meant for beauty...and his bed. The lord told her that he could tell how beautiful a girl would become by the color of their hair.

Her hair was the color of the moon which many found odd yet enticing. No one asked her about it because she would not give them an answer. Her whole life has been filled with silence. She would not speak. She could speak, but refused to. Vhaera wasn't scared so much as she didn't see the point of it if no one listened.

She didn't look for friends because there were none. She was all alone. The lord was always there...watching her. The lord always talked to her, he mostly talked about the war and the coming of winter...that is what most talked about these days.

They all thought that she was stupid because she didn't speak, but she wasn't. Vhaera listened with a curious ear and a puzzled mind.

She spent early mornings and late evenings reading stories about dragons. They eased her into sleep and yet awoke her. Her head became filled with the tales even more when she heard of the Dragon Queen.

Three magnificent creatures soaring above Dragonstone, guarding their "mother". They were here in Westeros now, the Targaryens are returning to their throne. The Iron Throne…everyone vied for it. Vhaera had never seen it of course, but she would've liked too.

She wanted to see the dragons first though. They were a sight to behold, most thought that they were terrifying, but Vhaera foolishly thought differently.

She was of a different mind than most. Always.

Vhaera heard some other lords gather around a table and discuss the Dragon Queen. They said that she was powerful with three dragons, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki hordes as her allies. The lord and his other lords were very much so on the Lannister's side of the war.

She quietly picked up their empty place and brought them to the kitchen where the other servants were. She scrubbed every dish clean till her hands were wrinkled and whiter than her hair. Vhaera wanted to escape from the Riverlands and never return. She desperately wished to be far away from here and go somewhere where no one knew she was a servant, where there weren't monsters lurking in every shadow...waiting for her to grow.

She cherished her youth as it was the only thing that was saving her from the lord. It protected her. Vhaera tried to push those thoughts away, but couldn't find the strength to do it. Her mind often overpowered her and filled her head with thoughts and questions.

Vhaera walked back to her sleeping quarters where the other servants slept. As she laid down in hay bed, she looked to the window beside her and counted the stars. She knitted her brows in confusion when she saw that there wasn't any. She felt a cold breeze in the room as she sat up.

Everyone was gone. It was only her in bed still, there were no signs of light returning outside. It was still dark. She only knew that winter was something to be scared of. It seemed as if winter had come to the Riverlands.

Vhaera stood up from her bed as the door creaked open. She walked through it and found herself in snow suddenly. She looked behind her and realized that she was no longer in the castle.

Something chilled her as she saw that she wasn't alone. She wanted to say hello, but couldn't. Vhaera frowned as she saw that she was in the woods now and was a weirwood tree. A sign of the old gods.

"Who are you?" A voice asked.

Vhaera did not answer, it sounded like a boy. She saw a boy in front of the heart tree, he was wrapped in furs strapped to a chair with wheels. The invention interested her as she had never seen something like it before. The boy with brown hair stared impassively at her.

"It is not me you need to be frighten of."

She nodded. She knew that the chills she had weren't from him, they were from something else.

"You feel him too. The Night King."

Vhaera's eyes widened in shock as the white walkers were myths in the Riverlands and that was all they were.

"They are not myths. Never were. They waited...until now."

Vhaera wanted to know why she was here and why she was able to hear the boy's voice.

"This is the first time it has happened to you. I'm the Three Eyed Raven. It means that I know everything and haven seen everything as well. Except I haven't seen you. I haven't seen you anywhere in my visions. Why?"

Vhaera shrugged then pointed to the ice filled pond and then to herself. The boy nodded.

"You're from the Riverlands or the North."

She held up one finger as to tell him that the first one is correct then nodded.

"Your hair is like a Targaryen's. Are you one of them?"

She shrugged and shook her head. She came closer and pointed to him.

"My name was Bran Stark of Winterfell. It's strange that they still call me that. My family that is."

Vhaera knew much about the Starks from the lord and he would talk about them being traitors and didn't understand why they went against the crown. She never asked him why.

"They tried to kill me...they killed my father, my mother, my brothers, Robb and Rickon, and so many others."

Vhaera nodded in understanding. She could see that as a very good reason to start a war.

"How old are you?"

Vhaera held up seven fingers and Bran nodded.

"You're young yet your mind is beyond your age."

Vhaera shook her head and chuckled lightly. She wasn't that smart...she just liked to read and her curiosity got the better of her which led to her questions about everything of the world.

"Why won't you speak?"

Vhaera thought then just to see if he could actually read her thoughts, I don't see the point if no one listens.

Bran nodded then which confirmed Vhaera's suspicions.

"So you can speak. I may see your reasoning. No one listens to children."

No one listens to anyone.

"Sometimes, they do."

I don't want to leave. I don't want to go back to the castle.

"Why?"

The lord hurts me. He says that he's waiting for me to grow so that he may bed me. He's always there in the shadows. It's not just home though...it's everyone. It's horrible.

"Where are you? Where is this 'lord'?"

Before she could tell him, Vhaera was being woken up by a loud noise. She sat up in her bed, noting that it was now day. She rubbed her eyes and looked to see everyone scurrying about the room. One of the other girls said to her, "M'lord wants to see you in the hall."

Vhaera nodded and dressed quickly before walking to the kitchens. She grabbed the tray of food for the lord to break his fast. She walked carefully to the hall and saw him waiting for her. He wasn't old with grey hair, but he could've been old enough to be her father.

He had long straight hair, the color of a raven's wings. He always wore dark colors, but mostly black. He had a sharp jaw and a thin mouth which rarely smiled. His eyes were grey, a frightening kind to her. He was lean and tall, he had long fingers, they appeared to be bony like sticks.

The lord stared at her and kept on until she placed the food on the table in front of him. They were always alone, no one ever bothered him whenever he ate. He only allowed her to be in the room. She used to think it was because she was silent, even her feet were.

Now she knew it was because he liked to look at her. He would make her stand directly in front of him as he ate. She was to never move unless he gestured for her to do so. Vhaera never talked, but he did.

He didn't have a wife. Not anymore. She died before Vhaera was born. He talked about her very little. The lord spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts, "Who is Bran?"

Vhaera was stunned as she knew that he wouldn't let anyone hear her and was jealous of anyone who tried to talk to her. Also, she was shocked that he somehow knew of Bran. How did he know what her dreams were about? Was she not safe even in her dreams? This seemed to terrify her.

"The servants say that you spoke of him in your sleep," he continued. "He's a traitor, you know? A Stark."

His voice was filled with disgust as he said this. She didn't like it suddenly. Bran was nice to her, he listened to her.

"The North is filled with them," he said with revulsion as he then spat on the ground. He reached across the table in an instant, grabbing her upper arm as she whimpered in pain. "How do you know if him, Vhaera?!"

She shook her head, casting her head down as his hand tightened around her arm even more. She was sure that he would leave bruises again. They were ugly and always angry.

He kept his eyes on her for another moment before shoving her away. She fell onto her knees and rubbed her arm as a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly as she looked up at the lord and furiously shaking her head. He stood up from his chair and then gently petted her head with a sigh.

"I know that you would never," he trailed off. The lord curled a strand of curl around his finger before rubbing it between his fingers. "Remember that I will not be nice to you forever should you disobey me, Vhaera. After all I did for you, I took you into my home when you were just a babe. I gave you a name and a home. Do not forget that, Vhaera."

That's right. Vhaera wasn't really her name, he gave it to her when he grew tired of calling her Rivers. She hated her name.

The lord kissed the top of her head before leaving her. Vhaera then couldn't hold her tears back as she thought of her name. It was another thing he owned of her. He held her name, body, rank, but not her mind. It belonged to her only.

Vhaera wanted to be back in the snow with Bran Stark. She wanted him to save her, but she knew deep down that no one would save her.

Vhaera Rivers was all alone.

TBC…

I'm sooty for the late update! For all of my stories, I had them all planned out, but I couldn't find myself to write them. Until now. I do have the next chapter written already. I will update my other GOT stories this month! I promise since I'll be starting school again for this semester.

This chapter was going to be the next one, but then I was like let's give her a back story. I'm sorry that it's sad and you may want to kill me even more next chapter, but I really wanted to show how messed up the world is. It's not even a smudge of corruption in GOT honestly. There's more to come! Got many ideas that I know I will be hated for because there's no happiness in GOT!

I hoped you liked this chapter.

REVIEW. FOLLOW. FAVORITE. Until next time...