A/N: OK, wow!

It seemed like people are genuinely interested in this little story - I'm curious if it stays that way! So I decided to write it and upload it on here.

I've planned to do it a chapter a week, but I'm not sure about if that will work out, as I have started an internship which has me writing a lot of different stuff and I have many friends coming to visit me the next few weeks (vacation time! yeai!). So, yeah. Just a little heads up. But I am trying!

I hope you like the chap and the story and all of it. Also, I am trying to not make it too corny or sth.

Lots of love

scuffie

Suddenly Avyn felt uncomfortable in her way too big dress.

She felt the men's eyes looking at her, staring, almost, distrustfully and full of prejudice.

The small room was almost crowded, with four men and two women, one of which was Sansa, sitting at a table.

The other woman seemed quite strange to Avyn, as she looked rather like a man; in fact, it had taken the Umber lady a moment to make sure if it was not a knight.

She had short blond hair and piercing blue eyes that were now directed her way, and, most curiously, she was in full armour, which was black as the night.

Next to her Sansa, the Lady of Winterfell, had raised as soon as Avyn was inside the room, smiling friendly at her.

Unsure, Avyn took a step further into the room and noticed that Ser Davos had joined her, closing the door behind him.

She fixed her eyes on the man sitting in front of her, next to the fireplace, in an comfortable looking armchair. He had wild black curls framing his face, which was covered partly by dark scruff, partly by various wounds and cuts. His brown eyes seemed sad somehow, and old, even though she was sure he was only one, maybe two years her elder.

"Lady Umber", he raised and greeted her „My sister has told me of your tale. She seems to believe you."

"Lady Stark has been most kind to me", Avyn smiled slightly and curtsied as much as her wounds allowed her.

"I must tell you, Lady Umber, I am not quite sure if we can believe you. But certainly enough you must be very tired, so we decided to question you further tomorrow. For now, sit, rest and eat. No one will harm you now", he spoke and she thought that his deep, dark voice was quite intriguing.

"Excuse me, my Lord", Avyn said and she was glad that her nerves had not gotten the best of her "I would rather have this business finished with now. I need to know what you make of me."

"Aye", the man said and smiled sympathetically yet sadly "Talk."

"My Lord Father has been a loyal subject to Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North. After Lord Eddard's death he was asked to take in your young brother Rickon, which he did. Rickon lived for some years with us; he was a lovely boy. Even though he missed his family terribly he liked his life at the Last Hearth, or so I gathered in our talks. Anyways, at least he was save. Until my father died, that is. You see, my brother, Smalljon, as they call him, has never been truly intelligent, and even if he had been so, he did not think too much of loyalty and honour. Instead he was greedy for power – as many men are", she added quickly "He planned on giving Rickon to Ramsay Bolton. When I learned of this scheme, I tried to free your brother, but I was caught in the act and so handed over to Bolton, same as Rickon was. The rest... well, you can imagine the rest, can't you, My Lord?"

"I think I can. But if you had already felt like your brother was not going to be loyal to my father, why did you not save Rickon earlier?"

"The thought had not crossed my mind. You know, my brother and I did never like each other, but neither did we hate one another. I had simply never thought, he'd do something that cruel to a young lad. Let alone his own sister. But so he did."

She had become quieter and quieter, the last sentence not much more than a whisper, as she looked at the ground. No, she was not sad because of her brother's betrayal, but because her own bad judgement had left her to be betrayed.

"I am sorry, My Lady", the Lord of Winterfell said with a look to his sister "I cannot give you any kind of sentence. I will think about what you told me and talk it through with my counselors. Until I know, what to do, I suggest you stay at Winterfell, as our guest. But, as you might have thought, we will keep a close eye on you and you may not leave the castle alone."

"I thank you, Lord Snow", Avyn said and curtsied again "you are very kind."

She knew she should be thankful, indeed, but somehow Avyn could not get herself to be happy. Her wounds stung and reminded her of Ramsay Bolton and his cruelties every time they did so. Even after three days in Winterfell, she still felt like an outsider.

The only person to take any notice of her was Lady Sansa and Avyn felt like she was slowly becoming friends with the young woman, but mostly, Avyn kept to herself. She ate her meals in private and did not speak to anyone, except when explicitly talked to.

The only thing occupying her mind was he, she did not even care about dying, if only she could see him again. Just once.

It felt like her heart was bursting every minute they had to spend apart. It should not be that way. Would he miss her? Would he notice, that she was gone? Avyn truly hoped so. But then again, she did not. If he did not think of her, he could not miss her, he would not feel the same pain she felt at the moment.

Avyn knew, she was a strong woman. She had a big mouth, she could fight and she had stood her ground more often than most men did. But she also knew that this one tear her apart.

On Avyn Umber's fith day, Sansa had forced the Lady to join her for a walk. With distain the younger woman had watched the older barricade herself in her rooms. For her this could have only one reason: Jon still had not decided on whether to believe her.

"He will come around soon enough", she tried to soothe her friend (that was at least what she had begun to call Lady Avyn in her mind. A friend. And Sansa found it quite refreshing to have some female company, for a change.) "Jon is a good man. He just wants to be sure."

"I know, Lady Sansa", Avyn said and nodded politely while looking at the stone walls surrounding her. They were in the yard which was covered in a thin layer of snow now and it did look beautiful, hiding some of the damage, the Boltons had done to the old stones.

"Then why do you seem so distraught?", the younger wondered, finally posing the question, that had bothered her for quite some time now.

"I do miss my home", Avyn admitted, avoiding Sansa's eyes "But I dare not complain to you, My Lady. Not after I've learned your story."

But the Stark girl knew there was more to the Umber's silent sighs and so she said: "I wish you would confide in me, Lady Avyn. I only want to help you."

"I know, Lady Sansa", Avyn said again and managed to smile at her "But truly, you can't. Being free just gives me too much space to think, I guess. However, I am still grateful to you, and if there is any way I can repay you for saving me..."

"Don't, Lady Avyn. It was just decent to help you out. Good morning, Ser Davos", Sansa greeted the knight, Avyn had met on her first evening in Winterfell. He was accompanied by what seemed to be wildlings, one of them catching her eyes immediately, simply because of his height and his strangely orange hair and beard. She thought she had never seen a man like him in her life.

Well, of course she had not, as he was a wildling.

To be honest, she still felt slightely uncomfortable with the wildlings being so close, as she had spent her life afraid of them, as all she had ever heard about them was how dangerous they were. However, she was not afraid anymore. After spending a week as a subject to torture and perversities, how could she?

"Lady Umber, this is Tormund Giantsbane, the leader of the wildlings", Sansa introduced her to the grim looking man with the firey hair.

He nodded at her while she curtsied, unsure of how to behave in company of a wildling-Lord.

Instead she curtsied again, but this time towards Ser Davos and spoke: "It's nice seeing you again, Ser."

The knight bowed slightly in her direction, after he had greeted Sansa: "I'm happy to see you up and about, My Lady. I've already wondered why you would not join us for our meals, but it's good to see you are well, indeed."

"I am ever so sorry if I have offended any of you", she said, also talking to Sansa at the moment "but I did not feel like I was good company to anyone."

"I do know the feeling", Sansa nodded.

"Don't worry too much, My Lady", Davos said "I'm not quite sure we're good company to anybody"

"Aye", Tormund, the wildling grunted in agreement "Bunch o' wildlings and kneelers, together. Not what ye would recommend to a lady, I guess. Anyways, we should get back to work and get ourselves something to chew on." With that he turned to his men and commanded them with a quick gesture to leave the castle. They were packed with bows and spears, it was quite obvious that they were about to go hunting, and Avyn felt a slight sting in her heart. How she would like to be on horseback now, chasing after some doe, the wind blowing through her hair...

But wildlings were no riders so they stomped out of the stronghold.

Tormund nodded towards the ladies and Davos and followed his people.

"He is quite... impressive", Avyn remarked.

"That he is", Sansa said "But all of them are, I guess."

"You'll get used to them a lot quicker than you'd think, My Lady", Davos said "Tormund is a rough fella but he sure enough has his heart in the right place."

"I don't doubt it", Avyn politely said, even though she did doubt it very much, due to her long taught hatred against the wildlings "However, I wanted to ask you something, Ser. I meant to ask Lord Snow on my very first evening but I simply forgot. Do you, by any chance, know if my brother, Jon Umber, has been a casualty to your battle?"

Again, the sound of her voice was indifferent, but as was Davos's when he replied: "I believe he's dead."

Lady Umber lost control of her face for a second, but caught herself quickly.

"Well, I have to say, that's good to know. I would not want to meet him again, now, but still it is kind of strange to be certain he's gone. Do you know who did the deed?"

"I certainly hope you don't want to avenge your brother, My Lady", Davos said and raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Not at all."

"Well, then. Guess, a young lass like yourself would not stand a chance. I think you have met the man just a few minutes ago."

"The wildling?", Avyn said and her usually so calm face made way for a slightly shocked expression.

"Aye", Davos nodded "Now, if you'd excuse me, ladies, I have to go find your lord brother", he said, the last part spoken to Sansa, bowed and left.

Again Avyn did not feel like joining in for dinner so she had her supper brought upstairs and sat in the room given to her. It reminded her very much of her chamber at home with its stoney walls and minimalistic decorations. It was comfortable enough, though as they had put furrs on the floor and the fire spend warmth and light, the cracking of the wood that was slowly burning making her feel at ease. She had asked Sansa if she could write a letter home and the Stark girl had looked at her in bewilderment but nodded, and so Avyn had gotten herself some parchment and a quill but she was not quite sure how to start.

There was no one to write to, really. Of course, she wanted to send the letter to him. But she would have much rather just talked to him and anyways: what should she tell him about?

"Hello, my dear, I am alive and well, after my brother has given me away to be tortured and well. Now I am staying at Winterfell, half a guest, half a prisoner, and I might be beheaded if the lord changes his mind, as they are not sure whether to believe me or not – which is comprehensive as I have no proove at all of being Bolton's prisoner without doing anything truly wrong."

No, that surely was not the way to go.

"My darling, I truly hope I will be able to come see you soon. If I cannot come home, it's because they think I am a traitor and therefore beheaded me."

Not any better.

In the end, she settled for a short note saying, that she was fine for the moment and would write again soon enough.

Avyn sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She would find a raven tomorrow, as it was already quite late, so she decided.

Slowly, she got up and readied herself for bed, while thinking about what had happened today.

Of course, her brother's death was not exactly a surprise, she had already thought he'd been killed as soon as Sansa had gotten her out of the cell.

Even though he had handed her off to Ramsay Bolton she could not be happy about his demise but on the other hand she was not really sad, either. He had been a casualty to war, which was his own stupid fault. Avyn lay down in her bed and closed her eyes.

Tormund.

Tormund was his murderers name – a wildling. Which, as she had to admit, was a bit ironic, truly, as he had made the pact with Bolton to recieve help against the wildlings, only to be killed by one of them.

Avyn had never truly panicked at the thought of the wildlings living South of the Wall, as surely, they would have been monitored surely and they would have to obey the laws of the Seven Kingdoms.

Anyways she was still uncomfortable knowing that there were some hundreds of them right outside the walls of Winterfell, and some even within them.

Making Tormund's acquaintance had not really helped the cause. He was a beast of a man, she thought. So much taller than herself, with his wild beard and hair and those intense eyes that seemed to pierce through her. She did not even want to know about the muscels he was hiding beneath all of those layers of furr. The more she thought about it, the more certain she grew that he would be able to kill her with no weapons at all, probably a well targeted punch of his fist could end her.

Well. At least, Smalljon died fighting a man, who was definitely stronger than him. That's worth something, right?

Did I fuck up? Did I do well? Let me know!