Chapter 2
"I love you with all my heart, darling. You are so smart, so brave. I want nothing more than to hold you tight and never let you go, but I can't. You don't belong here, Blaire. For that, it's time for you to go, and be the fighter I know you're meant to be." Mother's words trickled through Blaire's mind, her soft voice contrasting with the anguish her words carried the last time Mother spoke to her.
"Someday you're going to be someone to fear, someone so strong and fierce that no man in this world will want to cross you. On that day, come back to me darling. Come back and be my daughter and show him that you are far greater than he will ever be. He brought about the end of a dynasty, but you will finish it and begin your own."
Blaire could feel her Mother's arms around her once more as the last of her words filtered through. "Promise me, Blaire. Promise me." The words repeated over and over in Blaire's head, growing louder and louder each time they were uttered. Louder and louder until the sound was deafening, Blaire felt herself falling through the blackness, her limbs flailing and breaths coming fast. Just as she was about to scream she felt a sharp pain in her cheek that was soon followed by a blinding light shining through the darkness.
Blaire opened her eyes to see a piercing light glaring deep into her eyes. She immediately shut them, bright spots puncturing the darkness. She opened them again, tilting her head up to ascertain where the light was coming from. She groaned when she saw the bright gleam traveled with her movement along the cold steel of her sword. Upon the realization that she was sleeping on the hilt, causing the pain on her right cheek, she pulled herself up to survey her environment.
She was deep in the Wolfswood, but not lost. She knew these woods better than the back of her hand. Blaire had all but lived in them since she found herself in the North. She took a deep breath, taking in the cold, musky air and smiling to herself before her ever-present frown returned. How strange it was to be dreaming of those long forgotten words belonging to a long forgotten woman that she couldn't picture, yet she remembered with perfect clarity what happened after she finally escaped that bloody ship, and the Cold Man for good.
It had been 10 years since Blaire was taken by the Cold Man. She never learned his name, never wanted too. What she did learn was what house he served, based on the Kraken sigil adorning his ship that she unwillingly woke up on all those years ago. She was forced to stay in the cabin during the entire trip, under constant guard and supervision. During her captivity, Blaire spent her unending time planning, waiting for the opportune moment to escape the Cold Man's clutches. It was a long time before they finally made port, and Blaire was ready to make her move. His warriors came to retrieve her from her cage and took her to the top deck, where the Cold Man was waiting with a cruel smile.
"Welcome to Pike, sweet one." Blaire wasn't fooled by his softened expression. When he stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder, she smacked it away and punched him in the groin. He bent over, wheezing slightly in surprised pain as Blaire reacted fast. She grabbed one of his daggers, turned around and sliced the oncoming attacker's hand before running down the ramp, her grip firm around the hilt as her feet pounded away on the muddy ground.
Shouts and screams sounded away behind her, and she soon hid in the mass of people on the docks, stealing a cloth hat from a boy in the huddle. She quickly put it on and raced to where she saw other clothes hanging from a line, keeping an eye out for the Cold Man and his warriors as she did.
She stole the clothes and disguised herself as another child from Pike, which worked incredibly well to her surprise.
For weeks she was able to hide from the Cold man and his men. She wasn't the only one hiding though. Jaeda, a beaten girl raised on Pike, helped Blaire hide, and survive. Blaire always suspected that Jaeda would want something in return for her help, and she was right. The only thing Jaeda ever wanted was to escape from Pike and to get as far from the sea and the ocean as possible. Blaire promised her she would help her escape, and on a cold, stormy night, she fulfilled it.
Ships sailed into Pike, ships that bared a number of different sigils and men dressed in different types of armor as they charged from the ships and onto the island. As they fought, Blaire and Jaeda stowed away on one of the ships and waited all night until the fighting was over, and the men boarded to sail home. It wasn't until they were a few days from the port when they were inevitably discovered hiding behind casks of wine.
The man who discovered them wasn't like the Cold Man or even the Rugged Man. When Blaire looked at him she somehow knew he was not a man she needed to fear. So when he knelt before her, waving off his men as he pulled out his giant sword and placed it behind him, she stepped towards him without fear.
"Who are you?" His voice was gruff, yet gentle. HIs hands were placed on his knees, patiently waiting for her reply.
"Blaire," she paused, hesitantly glancing towards the casks, "and this is my friend, Jaeda."
Jaeda carefully stepped out from her hiding place, eyeing the man and his men warily. The man in question flinched when Blaire revealed her name and his eyes grew in surprise, appraising the pair carefully.
"How did you get on this ship?"
Blaire explained her escape to him. She didn't miss the way he watched her, searching her face with wide eyes. When she finished her explanation he remained silent, studying her face with distinct scrutiny. He asked her a few more questions. Some were about herself, others about home, and a question about her family, which she answered harshly.
"I don't have one, not anymore. They didn't want me so they threw me away like I was nothing. Sent me away with a man that couldn't protect me," she hesitated, taking a deep breath before puffing out her chest and looking him directly in the eye. "It doesn't matter where I came from, what matters is that I'm here on your ship in order to keep a promise to someone who helped me survive. Now it seems you have a decision to make on what to do with us."
His mouth quirked, an unmistakable smile he was trying to hide. It only lasted for a second, but for the brief moment of time, it brightened his otherwise grim expression considerably. He didn't speak for a moment, studying Blaire's face once more as he pondered. He turned towards one of his men and spoke in a gruff voice.
"Have a bed prepared for each of them. No sense in turning back now when we've almost reached our destination."
"Yes, my lord." The man bowed to him before turning away.
"You're letting us stay?"
"Yes, Blaire, I am." He stood to his feet, his head gesturing towards the door where his men stepped aside. "We'll be landing at Deepwood Mott in a few days time and from there you and your friend can go wherever you please." He placed a hand on one of his men's shoulders. He too had a grim look about him, yet Blaire knew she shouldn't fear it.
"Blaire, this is Jory, he'll keep an eye on the pair of you until we reach our destination."
"Where will you be?" Blaire asked, stepping towards him curiously.
"I will be in the Captain's quarters, so not far. If you need anything you can find me there."
She nodded to him surely, and that quirk of a smile returned, this time lingering on his grim face as he turned to leave. Before he was out of sight, Blaire stopped him.
"Wait!" He turned to look at her curiously, "I didn't catch your name."
"Eddard Stark, call me Ned." With that, he left Blaire and Jaeda with Jory, who quickly showed the pair to their beds, and for the first time since she was taken, Blaire felt safe and slept soundly amongst the rocking ship.
When they reached Deepwood Mott, Blaire had become very close to Jory, Ned and the majority of his men. When one of his men was out of turn, Ned would set them right. Jory was nearly always by the girl's sides, and never let them out of his sight. Normally that made Blaire weary or annoyed, but for some reason, she found it comforting. So when they landed, and the two girls were deciding on where to go, Jory stopped them from wandering and led them to Ned.
"How would you girls like to return home with me?"
"Where's home?" Blaire asked curiously.
"It's in the North, just follow the Kingsroad and it'll lead you there."
"Why do you want us to come with?"
"I won't leave two girls alone in a strange place without someone to look after them. I know you both have come far, and believe you can take care of yourselves and each other but you are still children. You shouldn't have to fight and scratch and claw your way out of the gutter when someone can lend a hand and pull you out."
"We're not in the gutter; we're adventurers searching for a place of our own." Ned smiled at Blaire's comment, not just a quirk but a real smile. It blinded Blaire, and a surge of pride warmed her heart.
"You're right, you're not in the gutter, and if you girls are true adventurers searching for a place to call home, Winterfell seems like the perfect place to start. Don't you agree?"
Blaire and Jaeda looked too each other, and they smiled. When Blaire nodded to Ned, he laughed and led them to their horses.
Blaire remembered her first ride to Winterfell very well. Ned let her pick which horse she was to ride. Her eyes immediately fell to a russet horse with black sleeves. He was wild, untamed, hated men, and didn't belong there. To this day Blaire had no idea how she knew that or how she continues to know odd things about animals and people. All she knew was that despite the ruggedness, and the hatred deep in that horse's heart, she knew he was hers.
She walked confidently to him, and though several men tried to hold her back she pushed forward, her eyes never left him. The horse struggled against the man holding him captive, fighting him with every last breath in his body. Once she was within kicking range, he pulled himself free of the man's grasp. He reared back on his hind legs, coming down sharply with a belt of rage. The man dodged just in time as the horse's feet slammed sharply into the dirt.
Blaire placed a hand on his russet pelt and looked deep into his angry eyes. His head swung, black mane flying freely as he back away slightly. Not to evade her, but to get a better look at her. She smiled at him, gently petting him as she hummed softly, so softly that only he could hear her. His breaths started to slow as he listened, his eyes following her curiously as she began to move around him. Her hand trailed his smooth pelt as she smiled to Ned and Jaeda. Jaeda looked terrified, while Ned appeared worried. Their concern touched Blaire but it was all for naught. There was nothing to fear, not from him.
She walked around him, grabbing an apple from a basket as she did. Once she was in front of him once more she presented it to him, smiling gently. He opened his mouth and took the apple from her; a soft whinny emanated his favorable response. She gently petted his giant neck when she spoke to him.
"I know you don't like them, but if you let them place the saddle on you, I'll be your rider today." Her voice was gentle, her eyes never wavering from his.
He didn't respond until he finished his apple, and then he lightly bumped his nose against her forehead, another soft whinny emitting from him. Blaire remembered hugging him after that, and giving the man a quick nod as she stayed by his side, never leaving him as they finally strapped the saddle and appropriate equipment onto him. He didn't like it, but he didn't struggle this time. His eyes never left her, and she refused to stop petting him.
Once the men were done they quickly back away, a wise move on their part considering this steed was at the end of his patience with them. Blaire grabbed hold of the saddle and tried to hoist herself up. She was having trouble, but she refused to give up, and he waited almost eagerly. At her fifth try, she felt strong hands under her shoulders, lifting her up and onto the saddle. She turned to look at Ned, who was smiling at her failed attempts, and she laughed with him.
"I haven't been on a horse this big before," she told him, petting the horse's mane.
"I'd be surprised if you had considering he's the biggest of the lot," he shook his head at her, "do you always take on more than you can handle?"
"I like a challenge, it's no fun otherwise." She looked at her horse, "he's the same way, you know. He enjoys the fight."
"He's certainly seen his fair share of war. Hopefully, the pair of you will be spared from seeing more."
"Don't tell him that," Blaire laughed, and Ned's smile dimmed slightly.
It was a few minutes later Blaire was riding her wild steed alongside Ned and Jory, who had a very scared Jaeda clinging to his back with fear as they rode towards Winterfell. Blaire never felt more alive and safe than in that moment riding free amongst the deep green pastures.
Blaire smiled at the memory. Out of all the mistakes and bad decisions Blaire has made since she came to Winterfell, trusting Ned and coming here was not one of them. In fact, it was the best one she ever made. It was through this decision that she found a new family. A family that didn't vilify her for her interest in fighting, but encouraged it and helped train her to an extent, that didn't throw her away for being too wild and reckless with her decisions and defended her even when she was wrong. She found a true family, and for that, she was forever grateful to Ned Stark.
There was sharp whinny in the distance. Blaire snapped out of her reverie and grabbed her sword, her body moved instinctually into a defensive position. Her eyes surveyed the area, landing on her wild steed in the distance. She took another quick glance, coming to the conclusion that there was no danger, Casper was merely impatient.
Blaire rolled her eyes at her wild steed. She named him not long after their first ride, and it's stuck ever since. His hoof started pawing the ground as she quickly gathered her things and placed them in her pack. She stretched out her back, enjoying the brief popping sensation in her spine before walking the short distance to him.
"I know it might not seem like it but I'm just as eager to get home as you are," she winked at him. His response was a simple grunt and a brief bump of his nose to her forehead, something he's done since they first met. She quickly attached her pack to the saddle, then pulled out a bit of food and started humming. He accepted greatly, licking her hand clean for any crumbs. Once she was done she patted his neck, and then hoisted her body onto the saddle.
"Alright boy let's go home."
With another whinny, this time loud and boisterous, they exited their camping spot of deep green trees and brush, Casper's hooves pounded away through the mud and aimed north towards home.
It was not long before they reached the familiar scenery of the outskirts of Winterfell and encountered their first sign of trouble. A lone figure stumbled through the rough terrain of the Northern pasture, his feet catching the thick grass and nearly falling into holes in the ground. He showed no signs of stopping, his movements desperate and hurried. Blaire cocked her head, appraising the figure carefully. Both were out in the open, she knew he could see her as plainly as she could see him, but he refused to stop. She realized something was wrong, something terrible. She urged Casper to go towards him, her eyes never leaving this desperate form.
He continued his pursuit forward, even when Casper trotted alongside him, his hooves thundering against the thick earth. The figure was a scrawny man dressed in black, meaning two things. One, he was a man of the Night's Watch that was convened to the Wall and all beyond it. Two, he was a deserter and on the run. She released the reigns, pulled both legs free, placed them into position and jumped. She landed roughly on the deserter, and expertly pinned him to the ground. His breath came in fast pants, crying slightly as Blaire flipped him over and placed a dagger to his throat.
"What's man form the Night's Watch doing all this way south of the Wall?" Her voice was crude and cutting as assessed him more carefully. What she saw beneath her caused the severity within her to lessen slightly. He was terrified. He saw something terrible, something that shook his truly to the core. Blue eyes flashed in her mind, but not like everyone else. These eyes were blue like sapphires and just as dead and cold inside.
"I saw them," he spoke suddenly, forcing the blue eyes out of her mind and focusing on his own.
"Saw what?"
"The White Walkers," his shaking voice suddenly grew, his head rising despite the dagger held to his throat. "I saw the White Walkers!"
"White Walkers?" Blaire forced him back down with her free hand, "what do you mean?"
"The White Walkers, I saw them!" He was shouting now, beginning to struggle against her. He was too weak due to his exhaustion and thin stature. He could not overpower Blaire as she wrestled him to the ground and held him there with a firm grasp.
"You already said that," she grated, "what are they?"
"I saw them!" He repeated, fiercely. Every question she tried to ask him he would answer with the same reply. Her interrogation didn't last long. Soon enough she heard the thundering sound of hooves heading towards them. She half expected Casper to charge them down, angry at her little detour, when the sound grew closer she realized that the sound was too great to belong to Casper alone.
She looked up from the deserter to see a band horses with men holding Stark banners coming towards them. She sighed in relief when she saw Jory, older and grimmer now after ten long years of watching over her, dismounted his horse and walked towards.
"Blaire, we weren't expecting you for another week." He waved some of the men forward. She released the deserter once they got a good grip on his black coat. He went willingly enough, but his frightened eyes never strayed from Blaire as she stood to face Jory.
"What can I say; we don't like to stay still for too long. He practically dragged me from my patch of dirt this morning."
"It's good to see you; Lady Arya hasn't stopped talking about you since we received word from Lady Mormont. How was your training?"
"Blissful," Blaire laughed, placing her dagger into her boot, "how's Winterfell faired in my absence."
"Never before has it seen more peace," he smirked.
Blaire rolled her eyes, "I apologize in advance for the chaos that is sure to come with my presence."
"Come now, let's return and give Lord Stark our report."
With that, Jory and Blaire left the men to deal with the deserter and road back to Winterfell. It didn't take long. In almost no time at all Blaire could see Winterfell's stoic castle in the distance, and her heart soared with joy. It had been a few months since Blaire left to train with Lady Mormont. She was stern in her training, and while Blaire sincerely appreciated her tactics and moral code, she failed to see the point in the lessen the proud Lady was trying to teach her. Honor always seemed like an abstract concept to Blaire. She knew what it meant to be honorable thanks to Lord Stark, but she could never find it in herself to be honorable. She realized this when fighting Lady Mormont herself during the end of her stay at Bear Island. The two had fought for a long time, both women refusing to break until Blaire saw an opportunity and took it.
The proud Lady's knee faltered slightly, and Blaire used it to her advantage by advancing aggressively, forcing her to put more weight on it. Blaire feigned right, grabbed the blunted tip of her practice sword, and swung with a brutal force. The handle hit the Lady's knee harshly, her body quickly faltering when Blaire made the final blow. A firm kick to the middle of her chest sent the Lady backward, falling to the ground in a gasping heap. Blaire quickly pressed her foot on the Lady's hand when she reached out to grab her fallen sword.
"Do you yield?" She remembered asking, pressing the blunted tip into the ground next to the Lady's face.
That action earned a glare from the Lady, "you have no honor in you."
"Maybe," she responded after a moment, considering the comment, "but I still won."
With that Blaire pulled away from Lady Mormont and helped her to her feet. She dusted the dirt off of her clothes before placing a firm hand on Blaire's shoulder.
"You have a practical mind, Blaire. It's a good quality to have when you travel alone. It's what you need to survive, but not to live."
"What do you mean?"
"What's does it mean to survive?" Lady Mormont asked instead of answering, and Blaire didn't hesitate to answer.
"Defeating your opponent."
"What else?" the Lady prompted, and Blaire thought on it.
"Gathering food for long trips, having supplies on hand in case Casper is injured or I need to sharpen my weapons or I need to start a fire to keep warm at night."
"More or less," she hesitated, looking to Blaire, "with all those things considered, what does it mean to survive?"
"Keeping yourself alive?" She answered in a confused tone, unsure of where this conversation was going.
"Yes, survival deals with the maintenance of the body. To keep it moving, breathing, and working as it should. Now, if survival focuses on keeping the body alive, what does living focus on?"
"Keeping the mind alive?"
"Yes and no, survival deals with physicality while living deals with morality, the heart and the mind to be more precise."
"I'm not sure what you mean by that?"
"Living focuses on the emotions you feel, particularly ones attached to those you feel strongly for. Let's use the Starks as an example. You think of them as your family, do you not?"
"Of course I do, I don't know what I'd do without them." Blaire paused for a moment, realizing what Lady Mormont was talking about. "Would that also include my love of fighting?"
"Blaire, your propensity for fighting is not enough. Living is something that fills you to the core of your being, fills you with joy, pain, and motivates you in ways that little else can. Is there anything that makes you feel in such a way?"
Blaire shrugged, not answering.
"That's your final challenge, young one. The only lesson you've yet to learn and understand. Find what it means to live, and you will become a force to be reckoned with."
Blaire was still confused by their conversation, yet the sight of Winterfell drawing nearer shed cleared her mind a bit. There was no place in this world she would rather be than here, the only place she would ever dare to call home. The grim stonework of the walls felt welcoming as she rode through the entrance with Jory by her side. Casper whinnied, rearing on his back legs enthusiastically. Blaire smiled at his reaction, particularly at the terrified faces from those surrounding them. They all thought Casper was a monstrous beast that should never have been allowed into these sacred walls, but Lord Stark knew better and wouldn't hear a word against him.
She took him to the stables towards the water pale and he lapped it up eagerly.
"There you go boy, drink up." She grabbed the last of the food from the pack and set it next to the watering trough. She gave him one last pat on his dark mane as Jory placed a hand on her shoulder.
He led her away from Casper and through the mass of people gathered in the courtyard. They stared at Blaire curiously, nervously. It wasn't new. Blaire has been on the receiving end of those looks since she first arrived at Winterfell. Blaire used to think it was because of her strange eyes before eventually coming to realize it wasn't her physical abnormality, but simply her disposition. She wasn't like everyone else, and a fair amount of them have been brave or stupid enough to point that out to her. She didn't need them to remind her, she's always been different. From what little she remembered of her time in those golden halls she was always different from those around her. Even from Father.
His black, bushy beard smelling of wine with crumbs falling whenever he spoke. His loud, boisterous voice when he laughed his booming laugh. The way he swung the hammer before letting her hold it. His scream when she stabbed him with the knife and his rage when he sent her away. There was little else she remembered about him, only that he was a wealthy man. It was the only way she could explain the golden halls. They were very extravagant, too extravagant for a man like him. She suspected it was Mother's doing, she seemed the type for such an excessive lifestyle. Blaire didn't see the purpose behind it. She favored a simpler life where all she had was all she needed. It was easier that way.
The sound of laughter broke through Blaire's thoughts. She turned her head to see Ned Stark's sons practicing Archery, and the sight made her grin.
Robb, the oldest, was trying not to laugh as Bran, the second youngest, attempted to hit the target once more. It was a terrible miss, hence the laughter from Jon, who failed miserably at trying to hide his amusement from his brother. A firm voice broke through the laughter and stunned the boys into silence.
"And which one of you was a marksman at 10?"
Both Jon and Robb remained silent, all traces of laughter gone from their faces. Bran, on the other hand, grumbled, "Blaire was."
Blaire grinned, and when Lord Stark continued her chest filled with pride.
"Blaire practiced every night when she thought everyone was asleep. Keep practicing and one day you'll be as good as her."
Bran took a deep breath, knocked his arrow and aimed once more for the target, pulling on the string as hard as he could. His shoulders were too tight, and his arm placement was wrong. Blaire wanted to correct him but decided against it. He needed to learn on his own, just as she did.
Suddenly there was a whooshing sound through the air, then the sharp sound of an arrow impacting the center of the target. It wasn't Bran's, his arrow was still knocked. She looked to see a very smug Arya a fair distance behind Bran. She grinned when the girl did a little curtsy and laughed when Bran dropped his bow and chased after her.
Blaire found herself discreetly walking towards Jon as he turned to pick up Bran's forgotten bow and arrow. His back was turned towards her as he placed the bows and arrows back in their quiver. She planned on sneaking up on him, scaring him. Her way of having a little fun with him when she suddenly saw him look up. Staring from the balcony above was Catelyn Stark, the Lady of the House, looking down at him as if he were a rat. Lady Stark didn't seem to notice Blaire which was good because the look Blaire was giving her in return would not have gone over well.
Often times she thought Lady Stark was a good, even generous woman that would die for her family. When Blaire arrived in Winterfell with Lord Stark 10 years ago she welcomed her with open arms. She treated Blaire with a firm sort of kindness the way a Mother would her child when they were doing something wrong. She made Blaire feel like she was a Stark at all times. She did not, however, extend that kindness to Jon, who truly was a Stark that bared a different name. Snow. It meant he was a bastard of the North. He was Lord Stark's son, not hers, and therefore she treated him like filth. It was strange considering Blaire's bastard moniker. Her name was Storm, a bastard from the Stormlands.
"She'll never change, will she?" Blaire found herself murmuring, and Jon jerked towards her in shock.
The smile on her face paled in comparison to Jon's rare look of pure joy. "Blaire!" he shouted, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tight. Their chests shook with laughter as they embraced, spinning her round in circle as she held onto him tight, and her face nestled into the crook of his neck.
For this brief moment, nothing else existed but the two. Only Jon and Blaire, two strange people that didn't belong anywhere, were not wanted anywhere, yet lived and existed in spite of others desires. The only thing that mattered was the catch of the wind in Jon's curls, the bite of the cold wind on the back of Blaire's neck, and their warm embrace when Jon finally set her on her feet. The look he gave her when he pulled back was not the brooding Jon everyone knew, but the happy, almost carefree Jon that she remembered with perfect clarity. Her smile broadened at the sight of him, and her heart swelled.
"Either Bran is hopeless, or you are a terrible teacher." Blaire found herself mocking.
"He just needs more practice, and patience," he responded in his gruff, yet dulcet tone, "much like someone else learning how to shoot an arrow."
"I, at least, was motivated to learn," she laughed, moving around him to pick up the last of Bran's forgotten arrows, "his head is up in the clouds. Is he still climbing the castles, reaching the highest of them all in hopes he'll actually touch one?"
"Of course, Bran's not one to be stopped when he has a goal in mind."
"Similar to most of his siblings, if I recall?"
He laughed again as Blaire shoved the arrow into its quiver, "when did you find the time to teach Arya?"
"I didn't actually teach her, just some notes, a bit of advice…" Blaire didn't elaborate, only smiled.
"Whatever you did, it worked." Jon was able to say before another shout in the distance interrupted them.
The pair turned to see Robb walking towards them and Blaire once again found herself grinning. Robb's handsome face shined as he pulled Blaire into his arms, holding her tightly.
"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon, what brought you back?" Robb asked as he pulled away slightly, his hands remaining on her shoulders.
"I finished my training early, and Casper was not in the mood for aimless traveling this time."
The brothers laughed, and Robb leaned in to hug Blaire once more. She noticed both of them got taller, and they seemed stronger too. Robb was letting his red curls grow out now, though they were not near the length of Jon's shining black ones. He was still taller than Jon, more statuesque in his build while Jon was slightly smaller, more limber than his elder brother. Robb's face was starting to lose that boyish quality while Jon retained his. Still, the Stark brothers were very handsome men, and only one of them was keenly aware of that.
Most girls would be ashamed to stand in front of them looking the way Blaire did now. Covered in earth and smelling of shit, her dark hair shorter and more unkempt than Jon's, wearing leathers designed for men to wear underneath thick metal armor before they ride off to battle, patches sewn into the fabric from ripping it during her training sessions and hitting the branches on the trees from riding too quickly through the forest. Let's not forget the condition of her shoes, which were falling apart in the most dreadful of ways. She didn't care though; she was rarely concerned with how she looked. When she did, it was only to ensure that she looked clean for Lord Stark's feasts.
"Hopefully he was not the only one to miss home?" Robb added slyly as he pulled away once more when Jory suddenly arrived, interrupting their union.
"Time to go lads. A deserter from the wall has been captured and is waiting to be executed, Lord Stark has asked for you to attend."
All semblances of joy and amusement vanished from the brothers eyes at Jory's stern voice. They nodded in unison at his message when he aimed his next message towards Blaire.
"You are to stay here-"
"Why?" Blaire interrupted, and Jon gave her a look of caution.
"You've had a long journey home, and Lord Stark wishes for you to take this time to rest and get cleaned up. He would also like to have a word with you before we go"
"Where is Lord Stark?"
"I'll take you to him," he stepped back, nodding slightly to the brothers.
She smiled at the pair, and bowed her head slightly, "My lords," she spoke mockingly with a shrewd expression, and their smiles briefly returned as she departed.
Lord Stark was waiting for her near the entrance of the camp as his horse was brought out to him. He wore the same grim look as he had since she met him all those years ago, which brightened considerably at the sight of her. He opened his arms to her, and rare smile dawning on his face as he walked towards.
"Welcome home, Blaire." His gruff voice warmed her heart as he pulled her in for quick, firm hug. "It's good to see you."
"It's good to be back," she responded, stepping from his embrace with a smile.
"I trust Lady Mormont trained you well?"
"She taught me a many great things, some of which I'm still pondering."
"Pondering?"
"One of her lessons has me confused. I'm not entirely sure what she intends for me to learn."
He looked taken aback, "The wild and onerous Blaire Storm confused? I never thought I'd see the day."
"I don't see why her lesson matters in the grand scheme of things. Why does it matter to live if living kills you?"
"What is the lesson?" Lord Stark asked as Toby, one of the stable boys, brought round Lord Stark's horse.
"What it truly means to live," Blaire grumbled, as he gathered his things and helped ready the saddle.
"What do you believe it to be?" He asked, looking at her expectantly.
"Seeing tomorrow," she answered bluntly, shrugging.
The look he gave her was similar to the way Lady Mormont did; slightly perplexed and disappointed, but mostly thoughtful.
"The lessons that confound us are the ones we need to learn the most," he said as he turned towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to go get cleaned up, and then check in on Jaeda. She's missed you terribly these last few weeks."
"Is she alright?"
"She's fine, she just needs some company. Despite our efforts she has not fared well here in your absence."
Blaire sighed, "I told her to come with me, but she didn't want to go this time."
"Afraid you might whisk her away to the wall?" He gave her a look, and she shrugged. "I told you to stay away from there, that's not a place for a woman."
"No, you said that was not a place for a Lady. I'm not a Lady; therefore, I can go to the wall."
"Now is not the time to twist my words," he grated when shouts sounded in the distance, and more of Lord Stark's men arrived upon their horses.
"We'll talk later Blaire," he heaved himself up and swung his leg over the saddle, "get cleaned up and go see Jaeda. She needs you."
"Yes sir," she conceded, stepping away as she bowed her head slightly.
She heard him sigh, "Be sure to see Arya when you get the chance, she wants to thank you for her archery lessons."
Laughter escaped her lips before she could stop it, and his rare smile emerged as he, kicked his heels into his horse's side, and off he went with all of his men trailing behind him, young Theon Greyjoy among them, who winked at her as he strode passed her. Robb and Jon followed soon after with Bran in tow, his face tense. Robb waved to her as they road by, Jon sent her a quick smile, and both glanced back at her as they road through the entrance.
She shook her head as they departed, smiling at their behavior before turning on her heel and heading towards Jaeda's home.
She found her out front washing her clothes with tense concentration. Her red hair was pulled back in the traditional northern braid, her plan face scrunched together as her hooded grey eyes glanced nervously at her surroundings. Her slight form hunched over the pale as she cleaned with all her might. Blaire was confused at her dear friend's behavior until she saw a short, fat man stumble over to her, yelling at her.
"You don't belong here salt girl! You're nothing but a piece of shit hanging onto the good Lord's boots! Why don't you do yourself a favor, and fuck off!" He shoved himself forward, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to her feet. Shoving his nasty face into hers, he continued, "but if you won't I'll do it for you!" He started grabbing at her clothes as he shoved her into the wall.
She had just started screaming for help when Blaire came forward. Pulling her dagger from her boot she reached forward with her free hand and grabbed the slimy, filthy hair on the man's head and yanked it back. She placed his dagger at the base of his throat and pressed down, hard.
"Let her go, or I will slit your fucking throat." Blaire growled in the man's ear, fighting the urge to end his life as unreputable rage flowed through her body.
His eyes popped open like a fish, and his breathing became impossibly fast. He lifted his hands away from Jaeda, who immediately scurried away from him with a hand to her throat. Blaire dragged him away from her before throwing him to the muddy ground. He yelped when he landed, panting and covered in filth as he attempted to stand to his feet. Blaire responded by kicking him in the face, knocking him to the mud once more. He started crawling, whimpering like the coward he was.
"What? Don't like girls that fight back?" Blaire taunted as she followed him, kicking him in the side with all her might.
He screamed in pain, falling once more into the muck. This time he didn't get up, just laid there like an animal carcass waiting to be skinned and eaten. He looked up with terrified eyes, his lips trembling in fear.
"Maybe you're the one who should leave; cowards and rapers don't survive very long in the North." She growled as she flipped the dagger around in her hand, watching the tears well up in his eyes.
"Please," he whimpered pathetically, "mercy! Mercy please!"
"Should have thought of that before you tried to rape my friend-" Blaire threatened when a small hand grabbed her wrist.
She turned to see Jaeda. Her eyes were red from tears, but her mouth was set.
"Don't," she said in a firm tone, "he's not worth effort."
"He has to pay," she responded in a growl.
"And so he has," she glanced around the area, and Blaire followed her line of sight.
The people of Winterfell people were watching with keen interest. Some looked like vultures watching with glee, others with worry shadowing their pale faces. Only one showed vast disappointment, and that face belonged to Maester Luwin. He stood at the edge of the growing crowd, hands clasped in front of him as he watched the scene intensely.
Blaire sighed in defeat, knowing she couldn't gut the coward like she wanted, not with a crowd watching. She sheathed her dagger back in her boot, and took a step towards him. He tried to scoot away, but she grabbed the man's beard and pulled him close.
"Touch my friend again, and no one will be able to save you, not even the Honorable Lord Stark. Understand?"
He nodded eagerly, and she released him, sending him back into his muddy pile to leave him sobbing in his own filth. Jaeda pulled on Blaire's hand and led them inside her home. She barely had time to collect herself when Jaeda rounded on her like the fiery person only Blaire knew she could be.
"What is wrong with you?!"
"He was going to rape you!"
"You can't do stuff like that, you know better!"
"What did you think I was going to do? Sit down and knit?"
"No, but anything would have been better than trying to kill him in front of everyone!"
"I don't care what they see-"
"But you should care, Blaire! What you do doesn't only concern you and me, but the Starks as well! They took you in and raised you as their own, what you do reflects on them! Would Ned have done something that incredibly stupid?"
"If some weak, coward of man was trying to rape one of his daughters, then yes I think he would have reacted the same way! Same with Jon and Robb, and maybe even Bran too!"
"You can't be this reckless, Blaire. The Starks might care for us but that's it. We are not welcome here in Winterfell; it's been that way since we arrived. The Northerners don't accept us-"
"Fuck what they do or don't accept, when a man forces himself on a woman, whether stranger, friend, family, or enemy; it's everyone's right and duty to stop him-"
"Yes, to stop him, not to kill him!"
"What better way to stop a raper then killing him altogether?"
"You are not the judge of that!"
"I made the sentence, I will carry out."
"You are not the Lord, Blaire. You don't rule here. It's Ned's decision, not yours." Jaeda took a breath, wiping at her face with shaking hands, "We're not out in the woods, Blaire. You can't just solve everything with your dagger."
"I don't solve everything with my dagger," Blaire growled, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend.
"You could have fooled me," Jaeda grumbled, taking a deep breath to calm herself, "Ned will take care of this; I'm surprised he wasn't out there."
"He and the Starks just left to execute a deserter from the wall," Blaire answered, earning a confused look from Jaeda. "I found him wandering on my journey back; Jory and his men arrived shortly after. I saw Ned off before I came over to see you."
"Didn't have time to clean up first?" Jaeda glared at the state of her and Blair laughed, arms falling to her sides.
"Sorry, I forgot," she joked, and Jaeda rolled her eyes in response.
Where Blaire didn't care if she was covered in all manner of shit, Jaeda fussed over the slightest crumb on one's shirt. She's always been that way, ever since they met. Blaire always found it amusing while Jaeda hated her for it.
"You can't always be so reckless, Blaire. A time will come when you'll act the fool and no one will be there to protect you."
"I don't need anyone to protect me."
"You will when it's you against an army."
Blaire laughed, "What a lovely end. An entire army amassed to bring down a bastard girl."
"Something is very wrong with you," she grumbled.
"Blaire shrugged in response, "and you're not the first person to tell me that."
Jaeda shook her head, "Promise me you'll stop being so reckless. If not for me than for Lord Stark's sake."
"I can't promise you that, it's who I am. Blaire Storm, the wild and reckless bastard who cannot be tamed."
"Quite a reputation you built. I hope you like it because it'll be the thing that gets you killed."
Blaire rolled her eyes, "I'll try to think things through Jaeda. I can't promise I'll succeed, but I'll try."
"Thank you," she gritted out, "now go get washed up while I clean up all the muck you tracked in."
Blair laughed a real one this time, and nodded.
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