Ryssa was walking through the courtyard when, passing the stables, she spotted Bran's direwolf pup sitting patiently and watching the rooftops. She smiled and approached the pup bending down to scratch it behind its ears. The animal leaned into her touch but its golden eyes stayed trained on the roof.

''Bran's up at it again, isn't he?'' The pup looked her in the eye over its shoulder and brought its gaze back to its previous destination. ''Well, let's hope his mother doesn't see him.''

And true to word, she saw Bran hopping his way over the roofs and coming down just as Lady Stark came into view with maester Luwin. 'Somebody's in trouble,' she thought and stalked back inside with a smile. In the background she could hear Lady Stark making Bran promise not to climb anymore. 'Like that would ever stop the young pup'.

...

She stood in a line with her siblings behind Theon and Jon, who stood behind Lord Stark and his family. They were waiting for the king and his escort to arrive. It was a public secret that the reason for the royal family's visit was so that the king could ask Lord Stark to become the Hand after the untimely death of Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale.

It mattered little to Ryssa, she was only too happy for her siblings visiting her. She was ecstatic when she had received the letter her father sent her, a few days prior to their arrival, telling her how much they missed her and were on their way to pay her a visit and see how she was adapting to the life in the much-warmer-than-home Winterfell. The biggest surprise was when they all arrived and she was presented with a gift by Therenger; a Phoenix egg which was hatched within an hour.

The Phoenix was beautiful, with a long elegant neck, regal bearing, luscious long tail and the eyes the color of molten gold. She named the bird 'Aidan', and it was currently perched on her left shoulder, playing with strands of her blood red hair.

The Manalis children, all lined up, were dressed in their best clothes in their families respective colors; blood red and silvery blue. The boys wore red while the girls wore blue even if Ryssa insisted upon wearing red she was ignored. Nothing new there.

The last few days, for Ryssa, were spent catching up with her siblings. The only one who wasn't able to come was Tryshyon who was only four years old so their parents wouldn't let him make the week-long trip from Forgehammer to Winterfell. It was extremely funny to her and her sisters how most young girls at Winterfell immediately started swooning at the sight of her older brother, Therenger. She didn't blame them, though. All too well she was aware of the fact that beauty ran in their families blood, Rare was the occurrence of an unattractive Manalis being born.

Therenger was a tall, broad man on Twenty-one with curly black hair that fell just below his ears, a light beard and the eyes the color of lightest silver. His features, like with most Manalis', were sharp and elongated with slightly tilted almond shaped eyes. There was a small scar just below his right eye that he's had for about ten years; an accident that happened during one of their spar matches when she managed to nick his skin with the point of her dagger. His effect on women was even bigger thanks to his natural charisma and overall friendly demeanor. When someone spoke to him it seemed like there was no chance in this world that this young man would be able to kill a man twice his size using only his bare hands. Even now as he stood no more than half a foot from Ryssa, he exulted power and authority.

To her right stood her younger sister, Niantine. As a young girl of fifteen, Niantine was the true lady amongst the four sisters with her perfect manners and the ability to charm almost anyone. Like all Manalis women, she too had a very feminine face with full pink lips and a small button nose. Her luscious dark brown hair fell in gentle waves as some carefully arranged strands framed her chocolate eyes and her dress was the epitome of femininity, the silver blue fabric hugging the girls figure just right. Looking at the composed young girl, you couldn't even imagine her riding horses and shooting arrows with almost inhuman accuracy.

Next were the thirteen year old twin boys, Rafaem and Ranald; tall and slim with the most surprising coloring one would think a Northerner would have. With their identical messy white hair and mischievous brown eyes, the only way to differentiate them was according their outfits; Ranald usually wore darker shades than Rafaem.

The ten year old Baessrad was the only child, aside Ryssa herself, to inherit their father's red hair but he still had the icy blue eyes of their mother. Often he was found with at least one of his younger twin sisters, the six year old Mientyha and Yiehdel. The crazy trio was on darker days the only source of laughter in the Keep. Both girly were blessed with hair as black as night and intense violet eyes.

Since they all had names which were somewhat a mouthfull to pronounce, when they were younger they came up with nicknames that they still used. Therenger was called 'Ren', Ryssa was 'Ro', Niantine was 'Nia', Rafaem was 'Raf', Ranald was 'Rin' (though no one knew really why), Baessrad was 'Bo', Mienthya was 'Tika' or 'Tya', Yiehdel was 'Della and young Tryshyon was 'Ty'.

The only person, she noticed, who was missing was Arya. Knowing the young she-wolf, she was somewhere in the town stealing looks of the King and his company. She could see Lady Stark searching for her daughter with her eyes and heard her asking Sansa where her sister was ti which the girl just shrugged. Soon enough, the girl appeared running towards them to stand in line with a helmet on her head. Ryssa couldn't stop the tiny chuckle from escaping her lips at the sight and, from the corner of her eye, she saw Trerenger slightly shaking with laughter as well as Niantine.

Lord Stark grabbed Arya's arm, stopping her in her path and took off the helmet from her head. ''Hey, hey, hey, hey, what are you doing with that on?'' The girl's slightly startled look was enough to make Ryssa smirk. ''Go on.''

Arya came to her place in the line and with a rude 'Move!' to Bran made him make room for her as Lord Stark handed the helmet she was wearing to Ser Rodrik.

Now all the 'children' stood together in a line as visitors poured through the gates in a river of gold and silver and steel. If Ryssa was to guess, she would say there were around three hundred of them, finest bannermer, sworn swords, knights and freeriders of the South. In her opinion, there were no finer ones that those that could be found in the cold hard North. Over their heads golden banners with a crowned stag whipped in the cold wind.

From the stories and books, she was able to recognize some of the king's escort. There was Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer as many called him behind his back, easily recognized for his golden hair and white cloak of the members of the Kingsguard. She could also see Sandor Clegane, the Hound, with his terribly burned face and the snobby looking blonde boy next to him could only be the crown prince Joffrey. She could alredy see the glances he and Sansa were exchanging and, from the look on Robb's face, so could he. At the head of the column, flanked by two members of the Kingsguard, was no other than King Robert himself who seemed more like a fat drunkard than a king, if you asked Ryssa.

All bowed and kneeled while the Manalis sisters all dropped into deep curtseys as the King dismounted his horse. Without a word he approached Lord Stark and discretely gestured him to rise to his feet. As he did, so did the rest of the people.

''Your Grace,'' Lord Stark bowed his head in a greeting and the King just observed him for a moment or two until...

''You've gone fat,'' the deadpan delivery made everyone freeze and Ryssa almost burst out laughing at everyone's faces. For a second there was a deafening silence but then both the King and Lord Stark started laughing and hugged each other.

It was heartwarming to see the two old friends reunited. According to Ryssa's father, the two have not seen each other since the Greyjoy rebellion, eleven years ago. She still remembered the stories her father told her about the battles and she was surprised to see that the man her father described in them looked very little like the man who stood in front of her now. That man, though very tall, was also very wide, with a thick coarse black beard, dark circles under his blue eyes and a clinging smell of perfume so strong it traveled even to her and stung her nostrils.

''Nine years,'' the King started, ''I have not seen you. Where the hell have you been?''

''Guarding the North for you,'' Lord Stark said, '' Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.''

In the background, the Queen exited her wheelhouse all regally dressed in pinks and gold's with a fur wrap around her neck. She truly was beautiful with her fair skin, golden hair, emerald eyes and high cheekbones, but there was something in her that rubbed Ryssa the wrong way, something dark and twisted. She felt it when she looked at the crown prince as well. All she knew was not to trust anything these people said.

''Where's the Imp?'' Arya's question broke her gaze from the Queen and she looked around noticing that, truly, the youngest of the Lannister siblings was missing. At Sansa's remark to shut up, Ryssa frowned. The girl was only curious; there was no harm in that, so there was no need to be rude to her. She was well aware that the sisters were as different in personalities as day and night but so were Ryssa and Niantine and they were never so rude or mean to one another. When Sansa, once more, told Arya to shut up, as the latter started talking about the Kingslayer, Ryssa just let out an exasperated sigh making Therenger look at her with a look that asked her if she was feeling alright.

Slightly shaking her head she told him as she gestured towards the Stark girls, ''They aren't aware how much they might actually need each other when perilous times come but rather spend their time resenting each other.'' Her brother nodded, showing her that he too has noticed this.

Both Lord and Lady Stark bowed to the Queen and Lord Stark kissed her hand when she approached them. The passive look on her face turned sour when the King asked to be taken to the Stark family crypt. She tried to talk him out of it by pointing out that they've been riding for almost a month and that the dead won't be getting away any soon but he wouldn't listen and wordlessly went there anyway. Lord Stark offered her an apologetic look before following after the King leaving everyone in an akward silence which was broken by Arya.

''Where's the Imp?''

''Where is our brother?'' the Queen asked her brother, the Kingslayer. ''Go and find him before the feast.''

AN: First of all, I'd like to thank all you guys who gave this story a chance and Faved or Follow it. It really made my day and brought me in the mood to bring you this new chapter faster that I thought I could write.
Second of all, this regards the pairing of the story. The next chapter is the last chapter that doesn't have the beginnings of one of the pairings. I already made a rough plan of three possible storylines, one for a Robb/OC pairing, one for Jon/OC and one with no pairing at all. This is an OC centric story which has two POVs, one of which is Ryssa as you can all see, while the other one is supposed to periodically show up later on in the story. I'll be making a poll to see what option seems like the one you would want this story to go for. The poll will be open for about a month during which time I will be working on the fourth chapter for each of the storylines so that I can give you a new upload within the 24 hours after closing it. For those who are having problems with the names of my OCs, I'll be posting the way the names are pronounced in the next chapter. Also, leave me some feedback in the reviews, it keeps me writing, and I hope that you've enjoyed the second chapter. ;)