Chapter 04:
Ned Stark was a lot of things, but fool wasn't one of them.
One look at the two ladies Jon had brought in from Wolfswood, and he knew exactly who they were. Their foreign dressing was enough to ring all the warning bells in his mind.
He had never really believed the old tales that spun around his family, dismissing them as old wives gossips, but when he looked at the two sorceresses, (yes, he knew they were sorceresses!) he knew all those tales had been true. And the proof stood before him and his eldest two.
"Shut the door behind you, Robb. And then take a seat with Jon, there might be a long explanations soon and I'd rather just finish it in one go," he sighed tiredly and rubbed his forehead.
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It was going to be a long winter.
There was a great war brewing.
The White Walkers were coming back.
Starks had to put up a united, undefeatable front at the North.
They were all that stood between humanity and the undead.
And his personal favorites…
They were witches!
From the future!
Traveling back in time to help them fight!
To help them… to fight! He couldn't control the thoughts that were spinning in his head in a short circuit, every passing second recalling the meeting with his father. He would have found the absurdity of it all too much for his eyes to see and his ears to hear, but all he had witnessed was true and his father had called upon an important family meeting the next day at breakfast.
He was caught between shock and some place unbelievable.
But they yielded magic! How can I not be in shock?!
There was a soft knock on the door that he heard only because of the silence of the night. Robb moved out of his bed and pulled on his dressing robe over the breeches that he had worn to the bed earlier and walked to the door, throwing it open.
Just beyond the door, stood his half-brother Jon, looking as ashen as he felt.
"Couldn't sleep?" Robb raised his eyebrow. Jon shook his head. "Me neither. Come on in, then."
Stepping in, Jon shut the door behind him and began, "They know sorcery. What if they turn against us? We'd have no way of saving our family, our home."
Jon's straight cutting to the heart of the matter was a point that always endeared him to Robb, but now was not the time to smile about it. So Robb said instead, "We'll have to keep a close eye on them at all times. We need to know they can be trusted before we let our guard down around them."
"Father seems to trust them, though."
"I saw, it even felt as if he knew of them."
Jon hummed. "Do you think they are those from the stories we heard from him when we were young? About men and women with wands that came to aid our ancestors during the last war against the White Walkers.."
"It's quite likely, I agree. May be that is how father knew about them too. What we dismissed as night-time stories, he may have known of the truth behind them; something he definitely did not tell us."
"So, what now? How should we proceed?"
"I am sure Father wouldn't be telling any of the younger ones about their true reasons for being at Winterfell so that only leaves Mother. He may very well have told her already. And if I know Mother at all, she must be brimming with hearty mistrust if nothing else, about father's new wards."
Jon agreed with that. Hell, he had been around for one and seven namedays and yet Lady Stark treated him with nothing short of annoyance and disgust, so he was pretty sure the new guests were going to be treated similarly, if not worse. For that reason alone, though, he felt an affinity with them that he didn't want to think much about.
Just like him, they would stay at the castle and enjoy all its luxuries and yet have no one to call family.
Well, none apart from each other.
He envied them that.
Disgusted with himself for his thoughts, he shook his head hard and turned to look at Robb. "So, you didn't go to see Greyjoy I see," he teased his brother.
Robb scowled at Jon and punched his stomach for good measure. "Go back to sleep, the morrow will be here soon enough."
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The breakfast in the morning was as noisy as the ones back at the Burrow and both the witches smiled at the familiarity of the event. Lord Stark was discussing his day with his two elder sons while Lady Stark was urging her youngest, Rickon, a boy of just six, to eat at least something, from where she sat across the table. The two young Stark girls sat beside each other, eating their food quietly and yet from the thinly-veiled curiosity shining in one's eyes and mirth in the other's it was clear to anyone who cared to watch that the sisters were as different as night and day. The second last son looked to be the quietest, but one look in his mischievous eyes and the bubble would burst with a resounding pop!
As they looked at the Stark family, they were being evaluated by them as well. Lady Stark looked at them with unconcealed mistrust, Lord Stark with curiosity and intrigue and the two older half-brothers kept shuttling between enigmatic and wary. Looking around, they realized none of the other family members were told about their truth since the younger kids were only looking at them with undistinguished curiosity, not awe or even fear.
Which was fine with them, trusting a bunch of kids with information about their magic was not particularly high on their agenda either.
"What are you two smiling about?" Bran, the boy of ten, asked.
"Brandon! That's no way to speak to guests," his mother immediately admonished his childish curiosity.
"No, that's all right, we don't mind," Hermione smiled at the young boy.
"We were just thinking how similar to our own home this all is," Ginny gestured around the table to make her point.
"Do you have many siblings too, then?" Lord Stark asked, curious to find out as much about his new wards as he could.
"Not me, I am an only child, but she does, she is the youngest of seven and the only girl in her family, too," Hermione smiled back at the head of the house.
"You have six elder brothers then?" Sansa, the beautiful brunette, sitting beside her mother asked.
Ginny's eyes immediately clouded over. "No, just five now. I lost one of my brothers in a fight almost a year back now."
"Oh, I apologize, I didn't know," Sansa looked at her breakfast plate in shame.
"It's alright. We're healing. It's difficult, but we're getting there," she offered the young girl a small smile.
"Are any of them married yet?" Lady Stark asked.
"Yes, one. My eldest brother," Ginny smiled fondly, thinking of Bill.
"And how old are you girls?" she queried again.
"I'm seventeen and she's eighteen," Ginny replied again, then at the blank looks around the table, "one and seven and one and eight?" she asked sounding unsure.
"Oh, my Gods! And you aren't married yet?" Sansa asked, eyes wide.
"Not everyone's sole ambition in life is to get married and produce sons," Arya gave her elder sister a disgusted look, much to the amusement of the two new joiners. Then Arya turned to look at them, "So, you weren't forced by your parents into a marital allegiance despite your age?" she asked as softly as she could, knowing her mother had her ears out on every word whispered around the table, but she looked occupied with her father at the moment and Arya knew Robb and Jon wouldn't out her.
"No," Hermione shook her head. "My parents are very big on academics.. reading, knowledge and such, so I haven't been pressurized into anything yet, though my mother does push a prospect my way every now and again."
"As for me, let's just say my mother's at her wit's end and has signed me off as a lost cause," Ginny smirked and winked at the young girl, earning a happy squeak in return.
"How did you do that? Will you share some pointers with me?" Arya asked, almost jumping in excitement.
"Arya!" Jon warned, trying hard to control his chortle.
"Any time you ask," Ginny promised her despite the warning she heard in her half-brother's voice.
"How do you intend to occupy your time while you're here, Lady Hermione, Lady Ginerva?" Sansa asked again.
Both the witches looked at each other and then back at her. "I'd like to read about.. well, everything that's available," Hermione gaze passed unsurely at the Lord, hoping against hope he'd allow her access to his private library. It was a new era, after all, she wanted to learn all she could about it since it looked like they had quite some time in hand now; while Ginny snorted loud enough for all to hear.
"What do you all do to kill time around here?" Ginny asked instead, itching to learn something new.
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The joke was on her, Ginny realized about an hour later when she saw herself sat with blubbering young maidens, sewing! With a needle and all the other muggle paraphernalia no less! She was aghast, to say the least.
"This is what we have wands for!" she grumbled under her breath so only Hermione could hear her.
"Well, it was you who wanted to learn something new.." Hermione bit back her smile.
"Why do you even know this stuff?" Ginny asked looking at Hermione's perfect small stitches that she was shaping into the very complex Gryffindor logo and then at her own piece of embroidery, that was to be a garden gnome, as a joke, not because that was the easiest thing she could think of sewing by hand, honestly what did everyone think of her, really, but was an utter humiliation instead!
From the corner of her eyes she saw Arya make a dash for the side doors and on a whim Ginny decided to follow her, knowing in her gut that there was more fun anywhere else but where she was currently sat.
Decision made, Ginny stood up and looked at their teacher. "Could you please excuse me, I need to use the washroom?" On the blank stare she received, she tried again, "Restroom? Loo? Toilet? Oh for Merlin's sake! I need to pee!" she held up her little finger at the teacher and bolted out the room without her reply, making Hermione chuckle silently.
But fifteen minutes later, when Ginny had still not come back, Hermione grew worried. She showed her finished work to the teacher and asked for a respite, intent on finding her mischievous companion before she landed them both in trouble.
She didn't have to look for long. Following the sounds of loud giggles, she found both the girls that were missing from the sewing class, standing by the edge of what looked like a practice arena for learning ways of combat.
"I like this one," Ginny pointed at Arya, the minute Hermione stepped in beside them. "She absolutely handed her brother's behind to him on a platter." Then turning at Arya approvingly, "Don't take crap from anyone, ever, got that girl, it's time to show everyone what we're made of," she smiled encouragingly at a very beaming Arya.
"So, what forms of combat do you know?" Arya asked interestedly.
"Uhm.." Ginny faltered.
"Like I do archery. Jon is supposed to teach me sword fighting but he hasn't gotten around to it yet."
"Well, our combats are more hand on hand," Ginny tried, restraining a chuckle about her description of wands.
"Oh, is that why you wear men's clothing?"
"Yeah.. I guess.. It's rather comfortable, actually, but Mione insists that we need to start dressing like you girls from tomorrow. Lord Stark will be sending us a few dresses this evening, so I guess my pant days will be behind me for a bit from now on."
"Oh!" Arya tried to keep up. "But you must learn some form of weapon combat. Every girl must be able to protect herself should the need arise, or so Jon always says."
"That's actually quite correct," Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Say, can you teach us?" Ginny asked Arya. "I saw you hit the mark from at least twenty feet away. Do you think you can teach us to shoot an arrow like that?"
"Me?" Arya asked, feeling something very close to pride unfurling inside her.
While Hermione quirked a brow at Ginny. "We are asked to keep away from magic by both Kingsley and Lord Stark, we need to know the muggle combats from this era," she explained under her breath.
Grimacingly, Hermione yielded. While she did agree that learning new martial arts was always a good idea, she didn't see much sense in learning from an eleven-year-old girl. Well, I did a lot of things beyond my age when I was as young, maybe she can too.. she reasoned and agreed to yet another half-baked Weasley plan. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, she reflected.
"Yes! Yes, I will. I mean.. I'll be honored, my ladies," Arya replied importantly, bowing at her waist.