A/N: Howdy-doody!
Firstly: Thank you to Jafcbutterfly for yet another review!
Thank you and Welcome to new followers: Hannibalraider, baggyc, OverseerBishop, Theaveragegatsby27, waywardlottie and The Prickly Pineapple!
A big thank you also goes to: Hannibalraider, baggyc, pofien and waywardlottie for following!
Here is chapter three! I hope you enjoy!
xYruniwyliox
Chapter Three: Winterfell
I had been running Bear Island rather smoothly for about a month now. I had chosen two advisors. Aunt Maege for the keep and raiders, and Maester Blondwin for court and bookkeeping. Aunt Maege seemed pleased with my choices, and while Dacey and Lyra began messing around, Jorelle kept me sane. I decided to keep her as close to me as possible, as a confidante, but without spilling all of my fears and secrets.
The Maester read all the notes from the Ravens and counselled me on my decisions. I was getting better at knowing what to do. One afternoon nearing the second month, I was brought a man in chains.
"My Lady, this man was caught stealing bread. The Punishment for this is death." The gaoler said, flinging the man to my feet. "Please, my lady! My daughters are starving!"
I stood and walked from the room, and he was brought behind me. "The punishment is death. But I will offer you a choice." I said, steeling myself. "Your life or your hand." The man stared at me with his eyes watering.
"My hand." He said, almost immediately. I nodded and called for a block to be brought. I also beckoned the Maester to me. "Get hot wine ready to stop the blood flow, and call for his daughters." I said, pulling Longclaw from its scabbard. I hated the blade. It was horribly heavy, and it reminded me of all the bad I had done. I had singlehandedly removed the only male heirs of my house from the island. I intended to ride to the wall to deliver the bastard blade to my father.
I stood stoic, following the Stark's example; whomsoever passes the sentence should swing the sword. I looked at this poor man, who nodded at me. He knew I had to do this. "In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the first of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, and Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I, Jeorelle, Lady of House Mormont and Heiress to Bear Island, charge you with theft and sentence you to lose your hand. You will serve out the rest of your days on the Wall, and will leave at Sundown."
I stood rigidly straight, shoulders back as I took a breath. I nodded as the Maester returned with his supplies and swung Longclaw. My strike was strong and true, and the man's left hand came clean from his arm. His shrieks could not be blocked out as I handed Longclaw to the Master at Arms, Ser Hendrik, to clean and return to its place in Jorah's chambers. I turned, my grey skirts swirling about my ankles as I moved to the doors of the Homely Hearth.
"You did well, child." Aunt Maege smiled kindly at me. "I would have done the act, if you'd have wanted. You should not have to see such things." I shook my head and seated myself back amongst the furs on the Lord's chair. "It is a stringent rule of the Starks that he who passes the sentence should swing the sword. It instils a sense of understanding and respect for the heinous acts that must be committed in order to uphold the law, Aunt. But I thank you for thinking of me." I nodded respectfully to her.
"What will you do with the daughters?" she asked me. I allowed my lips to turn upwards. "I will employ them here. I believe they are both three and ten. I will have them be maids. They will have a wage, and can stay here with us, protected, and be fed well. I will then proceed to send their father updates on their well-being."
She nodded again, satisfied as the girls were brought before me. Lyla and Cameryn Croft were tall and thin, the bones at their shoulders and ribs jutting out harshly against their pale skin. Lyla had a smattering of freckles, and both had jet black hair. Cameryn seemed defiant. I stood and opened my arms, as a serving girl brought out two plates. I left the dais and walked to them. Lyla dipped into a clumsy curtsey, while Cameryn stared daggers at me.
"I am very sorry about what has happened to your father." I began, nodding to the both of them. "However, the law would call for his hand or his head. He made the choice. In lieu of the admission of his guilt, he can live the rest of his life at the Wall, while you both come to work here. You will be given food and lodgings and a modest wage, and I will teach you both to read and write." I said, assessing their reactions. Lyla was crying, nodding and sniffling, while Cameryn seemed shocked.
"Y-you would do this? For us?" she asked. I nodded, allowing a small smile to form. "I will send a raven to your father, updating him on your lives here, and when you can both read and write sufficiently, I will allow you both to write to him."
"Thank you, my Lady." They both chorused and dipped into low curtseys again. I motioned to the food and they both sat and ate hungrily. It was a week or so, I believe, after that, that I was invited to Winterfell, to meet my Liege Lord.
"Do you think he is unhappy with the way I have been handling myself?" I asked Maester Blondwin, in one of the rare instances I allowed my insecurities to shine through. "No, child. He is probably curious. You are so young, and a woman to boot. He probably wants to see how you are faring. Maybe even offer advice? You would do well to heed his invitation and follow his counsel!" the Maester guided me. I smiled in thanks and turned to go.
"You had best limber up, it is a weeks' ride to Winterfell, Maester, and I do believe it is time you reacquaint yourself with an old friend." I smiled at him, before moving to the door, his retort of "You are far too sharp for your own good!" following me down the corridor. I approached my room and asked the two girls to accompany me.
My retinue and I made haste to leave. It was a three hour boat ride and a nine day ride to Winterfell. I left Aunt Maege in charge while I was away, and off we rode. It was Lyla and Cameryn with me, Cameryn riding a bay mare, with Lyla riding a Stallion beside me. My dappled grey Mare, Stormcloud, was beautifully tempered, with a soft and quiet disposition, but no fiercer hunting horse could be found. Maester Blondwin rode near the nearly empty cart that we had opted to bring with us. Most nobles travelling to the keep of their Liege Lord would offer a rich gift, in honour of the invite. We were planning on hunting several times on the trip. All of our catch, bar the rabbits and birds would go to Winterfell. I decided it would be a nice offer, because feeding another fifteen was so costly. So they would get the animals, for the kitchens and would keep the pelts for whatever they wanted. By the time the walls of Winterfell were visible, our cart was sagging under the weight of the load, and the girls and I were a good half an hour away from the retinue. We approached the gates, as the guards called us to halt.
"State your name and business, my Lady." He called.
"I am Lady Jeorelle of Bear island. I have come by invitation of Lord Stark. The party half an hour behind me is my retinue. They are weighed down by our offering." I smiled at him and lowered my hood. He nodded and motioned the gates to open. Cameryn eyed the courtyard as Lyla motioned me to pull up my hood again. It would not do to meet someone unkind before we got to the Hall of Lord Stark, to take the guest rites of salt and bread and water.
I noticed a group of young men bantering at an archery range. It was next to the stable, so I began moving Stormcloud towards the stables when one of the men's voices carried to us.
"I've heard all the women of Bear island are vile to look at. Maybe you could mount this lady from behind, Robb?" I narrowed my eyes at the brown haired brute. He was tall and well built. Built like an archer, but arrogant. The other two with him were sighing, as though exasperated. One with black hair locked eyes with me and I smirked and motioned his silence. A faint nod gave me confirmation of his compliance as I turned my face, as though unable to hear and they carried on.
"I've heard the Ladies of Bear island are good with weapons. You surely cannot fault them for that, Theon?" The dark haired one replied. The one with auburn hair made to answer before the arrogant one snorted loudly. "They probably fool around with weapons because the Bears of Bear Island will never wed as they are so ugly." He sneered, raising his bow and firing an arrow to the centre circle of the target. I scowled, standing in my saddle and turning Stormcloud to face the courtyard. I drew my bow and freed my quiver from my cloak, before knocking and releasing an arrow, which shredded through his own, burying itself in the target. I nudged Stormcloud forward and she cantered without me touching her reins, as I fired another six arrows consecutively from a moving beast. As I called Storm to heel, she stopped and I vaulted from her saddle to come face to face with these men.
"Who in the name of the Gods are you?" the cocky one demanded. I swept my hood from my face and dipped into a low curtsey, "Lady Mormont of Bear island," I grit out, and he had the decency to look guilty.
"Forgive me my bad behaviour, however, we Bears are too uncivilised to know good manners. Especially in the company of the slimy creatures of the deep." I sneered, referring to the Sigil of House Greyjoy, turning to the target and retrieving my arrows, placing them in my quiver and shouldering my bow, before handing him his shredded arrow.
"Could either of you fine young gentlemen direct me to Lord Stark?" I asked icily. The auburn haired one nodded and offered me an arm. I took it as a stable hand rushed to Storm and began heading her to the stables. "You must forgive Theon," the auburn haired young man said softly. He shook his head. "He often speaks without thinking."
I snorted and shook my head. "I would have thought being a ward of Winterfell would have instilled some honour in a Greyjoy." I replied. "Who must I thank for the lucky distraction and tour?" I asked, turning to him. His eyes almost glowed icily in the dark. His colouring was not of the north and I fought a frown. He was beautiful, but did not look Northern.
"I am Robb Stark." He said, bowing. I smiled and dipped into a curtsey, my brown hair swishing side to side, some strands freeing themselves from its braid. "Lord Robb, it is an honour. I wished you would have introduced yourself sooner, perhaps I could have shown a more ladylike disposition," I grinned cheekily, which he returned, a bold laugh bursting forth. "Forgive me, my Lady, but I fear I prefer you like this." He smiled, his cheeks colouring a little, under the scruff of his auburn beard. I nodded. We were soon stood before the double doors to the Hall of Winterfell. Robb bowed again and smiled. "Good Luck." He wished me, and I curtseyed, nodding to him. "I shall see you soon, Lord Robb." I smiled. He nodded again and slipped outside. I turned and pushed the doors open. I walked to the front of the hall, where Lord Stark and his wife sat, I stood straight, my skirts swirling around my ankles as my boots made clacking sounds on the stone floor, I counted twenty-six steps before I had made it before the high table, and I swept into a low curtsey, my knees already protesting at the amount of times I had to do this today. My lips twitched upwards at the thought as I took in the sight before me.
"Good morning, Lord Stark," I smiled standing back to my full height. I was tall for my age. I was grateful. I had a stance like Jorah, and did not follow the build of the conventional women of Bear island. My brown eyes were alert, my hair a mess, showing I had been long at travel, and my chest rose and fell rapidly. This was what I was waiting for. To be accepted as the rightful heir to Bear island. Otherwise, he would install a new Lord.
"Good morning, Lady Mormont." He replied. I looked at him, shocked that he knew who I was. "No need to worry, girl." He said standing and moving from the high table. "My wife and I had the pleasure of observing your archery demonstration in the courtyard." His lips twitched upwards good-naturedly and I flushed crimson.
"I hope I did not bring dishonour, My Lord," I said, turning my face to the floor. He laughed. I liked Lord Stark, he was obviously the epitome of fatherly and honourable. "You have certainly left an impression on my Ward." He mused. I nodded, the colour of my face, hopefully, returning to normal. I heard the horn of Bear island shortly after, and smiled widely.