ORRINA
"Come with me."
Lord Eddard Stark did not have to yell, he didn't have to even raise his voice slightly. There was something about the Warden of the North's voice, quiet as it was, that demanded your attention. It was the same thing that made Orrina almost feel guilty and ashamed about trying to rip Theon Greyjoy's face off with her hands. But she remembered his cocky grin and the arrogance that radiated off of him and not even Lord Stark could make her feel bad about it.
Still, she bowed her head and followed alongside him, not speaking a word. Orrina had gained a reputation for her sharp tongue and her hair pin temper, but she wasn't an idiot. She wouldn't provoke Lord Stark, she didn't feel regret for her actions, but she would not humiliate herself by throwing a temper tantrum. She would take whatever her punishment might be with a bowed head, but a straight spine and clenched teeth.
Orrina was not surprised by Ned leading her to the Godswood. It was a quiet place, a place for the Old God's to watch over her as she was dealt her hand. Lord Stark led her to weirwood tree and kneeled before the tree, eyes closed and sat silently for a few moments. Orrina said nothing but followed suit, moving to her knees in a quiet prayer. She was not an overly religious person, but she still prayed to the Old Gods and found comfort in the stillness of the woods.
The pair of them sat like this for several beats, before Eddard turned to her with another sigh on his lips. "Tell me why you attacked Theon."
"Because he is a Greyjoy. And I am a Mormont of Bear Island." Orrina sat straighter and looked Lord Stark into his piercing grey eyes. "The Ironborn have never truly stopped their reaving and raping. They have come to our island, hoping to make saltwives of us. Your ward insulted me. It's how things are handled where I'm from."
Bear Island may be included in the Northern territory that Lord Stark resided over, but the culture of Bear Island was considerably different than the rest of the North. Orrina was raised with a weapon in her hand the second she could hold it. She was raised alongside her cousins who were fierce warriors of their own right. Her Aunt Maege taught her to wield a battle axe and how to throw a punch. Northern women were considered to be harder than their Southron counterparts, but still ladies none the less. It was unusual to see a woman carrying weapons and knowing how to use them.
By the time Orrina was eleven, she had killed her first man. An Ironborn. They had come to Bear Island near dusk, a small ship, only a few men but with the intention to take what they could and what they wanted. Orrina watched her Aunt Maege and cousin Dacey arm themselves once they noticed the ship on the horizon. She wasn't supposed to follow them but she was young and hot tempered.
He had snuck up on her, tried to grab her by the hair and dragged her to the edge of the water. She had been aiming for the Ironborn's skull when she swung her axe, barely having time to let out a scream by the time her weapon found purchase in his neck. Orrina still remembered the hot spray of blood, the taste of his life on her lips. She still had nightmares about the Ironborn. She never knew if he was a Greyjoy, or a Pyke. It didn't matter.
Orrina never stopped hating the Ironborn.
"We are not on Bear Island, Lady Orrina." Lord Starks words were firm and clear. Perhaps she was able to act like a wild animal in her home, but not here in Winterfell. She would not be allowed to handle things her way. "If Theon bothers you, he is my ward and I will deal with him." Part of Orrina doubted that, Theon Greyjoy was not treated like a ward here, he was raised alongside Eddard Stark's son and heir, he was afforded more of a position than Ned's bastard son.
Still, Orrina was not in a position to argue. She reminded herself that she would be leaving Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy behind in a few days after her grandfather collected his men. "I will avoid your ward until we leave, my Lord." She bowed her head respectively, missing the look on Lord Stark's face.
Another moment of quiet tension passed between them before Ned simply nodded his good byes and left Orrina in the Godswood by herself, knees pressed into the mud. It wasn't until she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She knew there were no threats to her inside the walls of Winterfell, but perhaps it was Theon seeking her out to make good on her promise of killing him. Orrina slowly rose to her feet, fingers curling around the dagger she kept on her person. She had left her axe and sword behind in the training circle, but she could make a dagger work.
However it was not Theon Greyjoy who came from behind a tree, it was Jon Snow.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting you," Orrina said with a sheepish look as she tucked her dagger away.
"I can go, I just..." Jon stuttered and let the sentence drop in mid air. He couldn't quite meet Orrina in the eye, perhaps he was embarrassed by her earlier actions.
"No, it's fine. Stay." She meant it truly. So far, she was the most intrigued by Jon Snow out of all the Stark children. Orrina had spent most of her time in Winterfell with Lady Stark and Sansa, and while they were very kind to her, she found herself looking for Jon. She had enjoyed their few and brief conversations. But he seemed like he lived on the outside of Winterfell, always in the shadows and always away from Catelyn Stark.
Orrina found herself in a similar way up North. She was not supposed to be at The Wall, and there were plenty of men who didn't like her presence and would rather her not be there. So, she kept to herself. She rarely interacted with any of the Black Brothers, save her grandfather and Maester Aemon. Sometimes Hobbs would make her a special treat for dinner, and Yoren was good for a laugh or two when he was at the Castle, as long as you could stomach the smell. But the people who tolerated her presence were few and far between.
She imagined Jon felt the same with his father's wife and his place in Winterfell, and it made her want to talk to him even more.
JON
Jon could count all the times he interacted with a girl outside of his sisters on one hand. Even though he sought out Orrina, he felt awkward now, standing in front of her in the middle of the woods, alone. After she likely got reprimanded by his father.
"I should have told my father what Greyjoy said to you," he said after an awkward pause. His father wasn't a harsh man, but he knew that his disappointment cut deep and even if Eddard Stark didn't really punish you, you never walked away from those conversations feeling good. Jon had been on the receiving end a few times, and knew the feeling all too well unfortunately.
"It's fine," Orrina waved it off, moving back off her feet, sitting down in the cold leaves under the tree. "Honestly, my grandfather has told me off worse." She shrugged and offered him a shy smile. Jon could feel a bit of heat creep up his neck. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. "Come sit down, Jon."
"I shouldn't," Jon shook his head, feeling like an idiot for refusing. It wasn't very often that people sought out his attention. He was never shunned, or really treated poorly, but being Lord Stark's bastard carried a weight on him. If people weren't avoiding him because of something that was beyond his control, it was his anger that kept them away.
Sometimes, he just couldn't help it. It was easy to give way to anger and be mad at his situation. He knew other bastard born children had it worse, so he always felt guilty after his outbursts. He just wished for once that he wasn't always living on the edge of his family, that he felt like a real brother to Robb, or Arya. Even Sansa. But it would never be allowed.
"Jon Snow, if you think I care about you being a bastard, you are a skilled swordsman, but a dumb man." Orrina said bluntly, brushing her brown hair out of her even darker eyes. "Half the man power at the Wall are bastards. My cousins are bastards. It doesn't matter to me."
"Your cousins?" Jon was intrigued now, even more so and finally brought himself to sit on a tree stump near her. He knew if Lady Stark saw them comfortably like this, she would have something to say to his father. And he would find himself on the receiving end of one of his lectures. It wasn't appropriate for him, a boy born from lust and unfaithfulness to be sitting unsupervised with a lady in the woods.
Not for the first time in his life, nor the last, Jon thought to hell with Catelyn Stark.
He didn't know much about the Mormonts of Bear Island. Just that Jeor Mormont was the Lord Commander and that his son fled the North for selling slaves. He knew that his sister, Maege was the head of their House and he knew their words, but that's it.
"Yes my cousins, technically." Jon watched as Orrina found a leaf, and began shredding it between calloused but delicate fingers. "My aunt said that Mormont women are skin changers, that they turn into bears and go find their lovers in the woods," she snorted in a way that reminded him of Arya. "It's a long about way of saying that all my cousins are bastards and that she's never going to get married."
Jon was taken aback by the casual way she spoke about her family. She seemed more amused than horrified as most people normally would be. He had spent most of his life obsessing over what it meant to be the honorable Eddard Stark's bastard and how that affected how people saw him. He expected most people to look down on him, but to hear Orrina describe her aunt and her cousins, was almost like a breath of fresh air.
"Don't look so shocked Jon Snow," she must have seen the confused look on his face. "Not everyone is so uptight about those things." Orrina said it so simply, like he shouldn't be bothered.
"Well you're not the one being treated differently for it." Jon had found his own leaf and torn it to bits in his lap without even noticing.
"No, not here I suppose." He looked up from his pile of blood red Weirwood tree leaves in time to see her shrug. "But you aren't the only person in the world to be treated like there's something wrong with you." Jon was used to Arya's attitude, but there weren't many girls who were willing to talk back like Orrina was.
"My father sold slaves, and nearly everyone outside of my family I've met has used that as an excuse to look down on me." She looked him dead in the eyes. "Everyone knows about Jorah Mormont, the head of House Mormont, who sold slaves to keep his young wife in pretty clothes, and fled like a craven to Essos instead of face his crime. I bear the burden of his reputation that he couldn't face."
Jon knew that all too well, too many times he had heard comments about how honorable his father was, and how he ended up with a bastard son. It was so easy to forget that he wasn't the only one dealing with these problems when he rarely interacted outside of his privileged family members.
"I didn't think about it like that," Jon brushed off his pant leg. "I just thought with you being a highborn Lady and all," he trailed off. He wasn't good at this sort of thing.
"Well now you know, you aren't the only one." Orrina wasn't snappy or rude with him, just to the point. He liked that. And he felt something underneath her words, something that made him feel not so alone. Maybe it was her tone, or the way the corners of her mouth upturned slightly and he could see the beginning of dimples in her cheeks.
"I still should have said something to my father," he continued after a silent pause. "Theon is an ass."
Jon liked the sound of her laugh, he decided in that moment when it rang out across the woods.
"He is an ass," Orrina agreed, as she stood and brushed off her pile of shredded leaves from her lap. "But I should apologize to you, for shoving you when I was trying to kill him."
Jon noticed that Orrina always seemed so confident in her actions, in her words. Their whole conversation, even about a sensitive topic, she never wavered but he could sense a touch of sheepish in her tone when she apologized.
"I should have let you hit him, he deserves it." It felt good to talk to someone so freely, especially about Theon and how he disliked him. He didn't have to worry about if he was offending her. Perhaps he would have a friend outside his siblings.
"No, because then it would have been the Old Bear yelling at me, and trust me, he is much worse than your father." Her laugh rang out again as he led them away from the weirwood tree and back to the castle. Jon felt like he could listen to her laugh for the rest of the evening.
"Well he became the Lord Commander for a reason," he joked back.
"Speak of the Crow and he will appear," Orrina said under her breath as the pair reached the end of the wood and she saw her grandfather in his black garb waiting some feet away.
"Should I tell him that Theon deserved it?"
She laughed again, and Jon felt something tighten in his chest at the sound. He would have to think of other ways to make her laugh more.
"No, I fear we would both be in for a lecture that way," she smoothed over the front of her breeches, and tucked her hair behind her ears again. Jon could see a defiant glint in her dark eyes, and he found himself liking that about her too. "Don't worry about me, I know how to handle the Old Bear."
Orrina turned back to him, a wide smile on her face, dimples fully formed in her cheeks. "Thank you for coming to find me, Jon Snow. Perhaps we will talk again at dinner." She offered him a curtsey, which looked awfully silly as she was in pants, but it made him smile.
"Good luck, Lady Orrina." He bowed his head, trying to hide the grin on his face before leaving her to her grandfather. Jon would go to the training yard, and collect her sword and axe and have someone return them to her room for her. It was the least he could do since he didn't defend her in front of his father.
He couldn't help but peer over his shoulder, back at her as he left, all too keenly aware that her eyes were still on him too.
ORRINA
She was sure that her grandfather had already heard, probably from Lord Stark himself, that she got into with the Greyjoy boy. He had specifically told her to avoid him, and Orrina had tried. But he baited her. Jeor should know that the granddaughter he helped raise wouldn't back down to that.
However, she found herself not caring so much that she might be in for it from the Old Bear himself. Even though it hadn't been a wholly pleasant topic of conversation, Orrina still enjoyed her talk with Jon. She had been waiting to talk to him again. He was a bit sullen and one track minded when it came to his standing, but she liked his company.
She liked seeing the beginning of a smile start to creep across his long face, the spark that lit up his grey storming eyes. She was glad he thought Theon Greyjoy was just as awful as she did. Most of all, Orrina liked that he was an outcast too. Never treated poorly, but always on the outside looking in.
Not many people understood her lot in life, but she thought Jon Snow had a better idea than most.
Orrina was so caught up in her thoughts of Jon Snow, that she didn't realize her grandfather had closed the gap between them and was already well into a tangent.
"Did you hear me, girl?" He barked out, guff as usual. His weathered face was looking down at her, eyebrows knitted in curiosity, not anger, surprisingly.
"I shouldn't have threatened the Greyjoy boy, I know." Orrina assumed that's what her grandfather was going on about.
"You weren't listening to me." Jeor shook his head. "I told you, that I will be leaving back for the Wall in two days."
"Oh," she found herself slightly disappointed. She liked the Starks and Winterfell was very different from the Wall, she wouldn't have minded more time here before journeying back. "I still have all my things, it should be easy to repack everything."
She should have been concerned when she heard him heft a heavy sigh, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't coming back with me, Orrina. You are staying here. With the Starks."
Dumbfounded, she stared up at her grandfather's face, clenching her jaw as she processed what he meant. "For how long? Why?" Her words came out in a jumbled rush. All Orrina had known was Bear Island and the Wall. Although she was kept away from most of the Night's Watch men, she had to come know the Wall as her home. Being there had filled the hole left by her father when he left for Essos. And even though part of her knew that she couldn't stay there forever, she didn't expect to be leaving now.
Leaving the Wall to stay in Winterfell.
Studying the look on her grandfather's face, Orrina knew that there was no timeline for her to stay in Winterfell, that she would not ever come back North. Jeor expected her to stay here, try to find a husband who would have her and that was it. She held no sentimental feelings for most of the Black Brothers, but she felt her heart crack at the thought of not seeing her grandfather again. Not seeing Maester Aemon's bald head again, never having any of Three Finger Hobb's special meals he would make her, or even the extra hard pieces of bread he would sneak her.
"I don't want too." Orrina bit out, turning away from her grandfather and instead brushing through the horse's mane with her fingers.
"It's not your decision to make Orrina," Jeor said, his voice low with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her grandfather was used to being the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, a hard man, facing the unrelenting Northern weather and brutal Wildlings. It wasn't often that Orrina or anyone else saw his softer side. "Women don't belong with the Watch. You are wasting away there."
Orrina said nothing, just leaned into her grandfather's touch. It mattered not whether she liked Winterfell and enjoyed the company of the Starks, she would miss her grandfather more than she could ever come to love Winterfell.
"Ned Stark is considering his bastard boy for you. It would be a good match." Jeor filled the silence between them after a minute. He didn't miss the way his granddaughter's eyes snapped to him at the mention of Jon Snow. Perhaps she wouldn't be so upset after all. "I want you to be happy, little cub." He hadn't called her that since she was a child and Orrina tried desperately to blink back the tears forming in her eyes.
"I want to come with you," Orrina said after another moment before throwing her arms around him. He must have known that she wouldn't stay behind without a fight. Her grandfather always made a point to tell her that she was just as stubborn as her mother. Evya Glover was weak in health, but she was not a weak woman, and her daughter took after her fiercely. At least that's what everyone told her anyways. "The Starks will send me back after they realize I'm half wildling anyways," she mumbled into his heavy fur coat.
It was the running joke amongst the Lord Commanders brothers. Mostly used as a jest, sometimes in secret heated whispers when people wanted to protest against Jeor. Ever since Orrina came to the Wall as a pre-teen, full of anger and pride, the men joked that Jeor must have broken his vows with a wildling woman and she was secretly his child come to raise hell. She had calmed more as she had gotten older, but Orrina was still known for her temper and her sharp tongue.
"I'm sure Lady Stark will find some way to tame you," Jeor jested, but in truth hoped that Ned's wife would be able to help Orrina in a way that neither him nor his sister or able too. "Especially if you are to marry, can't have you acting like a savage if you are going to be a lady."
Orinna snorted but said nothing. She wasn't even going to entertain the thought of a marriage right now. Not to Jon Snow, not another Great Lord's bastard son, not even to any no name small folk.
Selfishly, she felt like she was being abandoned by yet another father figure. First it was Jorah, and now her grandfather. Ultimately, she knew that wasn't true, that her being at the Wall caused stress to him and discourse amongst his men. He wanted to do right by her, and by his brothers. Still, Orrina couldn't quite squash down the panic of the idea of being left behind again.
"The Starks will look after you well." Her grandfather said in his low, gravely voice, a comforting hand against the top of her head. He made no promises to come visit her, because they both know he couldn't. His duty was to the Watch, some would even consider him as a traitor for taking in his family at his post. "Come on now. No sense in crying after an old man. Go get cleaned up, I'm not leaving for the Wall for a few more days."
Orrina didn't immediately release her hold of her grandfather, took a moment to wipe her face against his black coat and step away from him, red eyed but looking determined all the same. "You wouldn't want that Greyjoy boy to see you've been crying now, would you?" Jeor teased and was rewarded by a mumbled grunt and wave of dismissal.
She was still upset, but she would suck it up for now. She didn't want to stay behind, she wasn't interested in a marriage, but Orrina knew from experience crying about it now wouldn't help her. Instead she would take a bath, stuff herself into yet another dress and contemplate ways to get her grandfather to change his mind.
She didn't hate Winterfell, in fact, she quite liked it there. She didn't miss the bitter, never ending coldness of the Wall, she didn't miss Allister Thorne glaring at her, she didn't miss the whispers from the other Brothers, and especially not the leering. Orinna liked Lord Stark and his Lady wife. She liked all the Stark children, and truthfully wasn't horrified at the idea of being betrothed to Jon Snow.
But she didn't want to face the reality of potentially never seeing her grandfather again. She already faced and accepted the truth she would never see her father again, she didn't want to lose him either.
For now though, she would stop her sniffling and tears, and she would break her fast with the Starks like nothing had changed. She had two days to change her grandfather's or Lord Stark's mind, but Orrina was confident if anyone could do it, she could.