AN: I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sory about the long wait for this update! I know, mea culpa, mea culpa! To tell you the truth, I would've loved to update sooner but I had school and Italy and writer's block and so much more that...
So, the poll is closed, I have the results and I won't tell you what they are because I want you guys to figure them out for yourselves. I don't know if any of you noticed but this fic combines both the show and the books so if any of you have never read the books and see something you're not familiar with, then it most probably came from the books. I try to stick to the show as much as I can but I find that some scenes that are able to explain a big part of inter-character relationships from the books have been cut form the show which is sad but I understand that they can't put every single detail into the episodes so I use some of those scenes to put Ryssa's relationship with others. This chapter was written heavily with the use of the book so there's that.
Thank you guys so much for faving and following this story as well as a big 'thank you' to you who voted on the poll and/or sent me your votes via reviews and PMs. It just warms my heart to know that someone out there takes the time of the day to actually read the gibberish I write and it means so much.
I have decided to make this a series of stories so there will be one story for each of the seasons. I hope to, at the very least, get to the end of season 1 this summer and start on season 2 but ,alas, there will probably be some huge obstacles on the way... Still, I hope you are enjoying your summer vacation 'cause I know I am since my school ended two weeks ago. I came back from Italy this Saturday and have been typing down this chapter ever since, given that I managed to write it whole in hand during the 6 days I was away.
Also, one little interlude, I wanna know how you guys picture the Manalis family so in the reviews below tell me which actor/actress would you put in the role of the present Manalis'.
Like I said in the previous author's note: I have 5 open slots when concerning characters and I wanna make young guys have more of a contribution to this story so if you have an OC you would like to see here, send them to me in the reviews or via PM and I'll incorporate them into this story :D
Anyhow, I know I just bored you with my rambling so I present to you the long awaited Chapter 4
The morning after the feast, Ryssa easily woke at the usual hour she did. She went about her routine but decided not to braid her hair in its usual style but simply tied it in a high ponytail with a black silk ribbon with her bangs falling into her face. With haste, she applied a small amount of kohl around her black eyes and put on her clothes. Today, she had persuaded her brothers to let her and Nia spar with them; it had been a few months since she had last had a challenging spar. She wasn't in any way implying that men at Winterfell were not well trained, simply that her fighting style and skill were on a whole another level as opposed to theirs. In the light of that agreement, she put on a high collared tight-fitting white tunic, black leather breeches, a black corset vest with red laces and her boots. Anticipating she could end up doing archery, she grabbed her fingerless gloves from her vanity and strapped her blades to her thighs and her sword to the small of her back so it wouldn't get in the way when she pulled the smaller blades.
Running through the halls, she headed to the stables to get Wynter and head to the nearest brothel to find her brothers. According to her sisters, Ren took the Twins there while she was having her conversation with Jon. She didn't really mind they were going there, but she still thought of the Twins as her two innocent younger brothers and thought they were still a bit too young to be with a woman. Ren, on the other hand, was a whole another story. The fact was that the man was the biggest man-whore she had known until she met Tyrion Lannister last night. If you couldn't find him anywhere, the chances were that you would sooner find him in the company of a woman than anywhere else.
With that in mind, Ryssa mounted her humongous black stallion and set out beyond the walls of Winterfell to Wintertown. The journey lasted only twenty minutes thanks to Wynter's long strides and she soon found herself being taken through the halls of the brothel to a room that supposedly was occupied by her younger brothers.
...
"I am never drinking again, you hear me?!" Raf moaned for the five hundredth time it seemed. His head was still dripping wet form when Ryssa dumped a bucket of water on him to wake him up. With how high he jumped in shock, she was surprised he hadn't broken through the roof and ended up with his head stuck up in the floor of the room that was above the one he occupied. Rin was no different, except he started running around the room like he was on fire to which Ryssa just shook her head and paid the woman that took her to them some silver for her trouble.
She found Therenger perched on the fence she left Wynter at, a huge smirk on his face and a green apple he had been peeling in his hands. His horse, a beige gelding named 'Royal', patiently waiting next to his master and the Twins' horses, Leaper and Racer.
"Well, that's what you get for being such light-weights," Therenger teased "I mean, really, only two bottles of wine and you're both already on the floor asleep. Sometimes I'm just embarrassed to be called a brother of you two." It was true; Ryssa had once seen Therenger drink a whole barrel of Dornish wine by himself before asking for a refill. She swore that the man was simply not human sometimes.
"I hope you just learned your lesson." Ryssa's voice the perfect authority for the younger boys to sit up straighter in their saddles as they were almost at the gates of WInterfell. "I also hope you won't be drinking in brothels anymore."
Therenger interjected, "At least until you've developed more of an immunity for alcohol!"
"Ren!" Ryssa exclaimed. "I'm actually trying to get something through those thick skulls of theirs and here you are, trying to undermine my work!"
Therenger flashed her a dazzling smile that had most girly swooning and letting him do as he pleased. "It's all in good sport, dear sister."
She waved her finger at him, "Oh, no you don't! That's not going to work on me and you know it! I've seen one too many of those smiles to develop an immunity to them. Your charms don't work on me ser!"
...
It took them about half an hour to get the Twins ready for their spars but they somehow managed to get the moaning duo into their sparing clothes and some food down their throats before dragging them by the ears to the courtyard, weapons in hand.
In the true Manalis fashion, all the children were well versed in the use of any weapon available in Westeros but each chose to specialize in the use of a single weapon at the age of ten. Therenger decided on the war hammer, Ryssa on her daggers, Niantine on her bow and the Twins both decided on swords.
Niantine was already by the archery range waiting for them, her weirwood bow in hand and a large quiver filled to the brim with arrows strapped to her back while an elegant sword hung from her hip. She was dressed in a warm brown dress with sleeves that went to her elbows and a long skirt with slits that ran all the way to her hips on both sides for better movement, black breeches and her sand coloured hunting boots with fur lined bracers on both her forearms and fingerless gloves. Her luscious brown hair was tied in a tight braid down her back and kohl lined her brown eyes.
"Took you all long enough. I've been waiting for you all here for the last twenty minutes." Though her face was devoid of emotion her voice was filled with laughter. In the eyes of those who were not familiar with her, she was seen as weird for this feature but to her family it was a normal occurrence. Niantine just wasn't good at expressing herself in conversations.
"The 'Bumbling Idiot Duo' had decided that today's spar was just not worth their presence for they have the most horrendous headache this side of the world," Ryssa explained with an overly dramatic tone and a bunch of hand gestures.
Niantine shook her head at her younger brothers who were being dragged to the other side of the yard where some men were already sparring. Ryssa knew that Robb and Bran would most probably spar as well as the princes but that Jon would be forbidden since he was a bastard. She could already picture him brooding from some window while the others got the chance to hack at eachother.
"So," Niantine spoke to her sister, "You ready?" Seemingly from nowhere she produced another bow, this one made from dark wood, and a quiver like hers passing them to Ryssa who immediately strapped them to her back. Both sisters took their stances and let a barrage of arrows into the targets going further and further away with each shot that hit the centre.
While most lords practice archery without a quiver on their backs, the Manalis' did since it got the archer used to the weight of arrows on their back and with time they could say the exact number of arrows in the quiver just by its weight. It was a skill that had to be honed every single day lest you fall out of practice which can mean your death in the heat of battle. Even if they were at the time of peace there was always another war just beyond the corner and one had to be fully prepared for the day it would strike down.
When the sisters ran out of yard they came back to the targets and pulled all their arrows and put them back in their quivers while comparing results. Ryssa managed to miss the centre only one or two times while Niantine hit every single time, splitting a few arrows in the process.
Out of nowhere, Niantine decided to break the silence. "Are you excited about going to the South?"
Ryssa looked at her with a bewildered look. "Where did this come from, Nia?" Niantine just shrugged.
"I figured since you're the Stark' female ward Lord Stark would take you to King's Landing with him to keep company to his daughters. Lady Sansa seems very excited about going, or she did this morning during our embroidery lessons. Lady Arya doesn't seem so excited about the notion but there is nothing she can do about it, so I simply wondered how you felt about all this." The sad tone of her voice was unmistakable to Ryssa's ears. Her sister was sad she was to leave Winterfell to go even further away from their home and family. At least while she was still at Winterfell it took a short two to three weeks of riding to see each other. However, this way they won't be able to see each other until the day Ryssa stopped being Stark's ward and came back to Forgehammer or at Ryssa's wedding day, which was highly unlikely since Ryssa proclaimed she would never marry anyone.
With a soft look on her face Ryssa said: "I'll miss you too Nia, more than words can describe. I miss home so much. I miss the biting cold of the mornings and evenings, wearing my fur cloak, the sound of the pack in the night while they sing to the moon. I miss the constant laughter and screaming of the young ones that fills the halls, the sound and smell of the forges. The frozen lake we skate at, the Heart tree at our Godswood and pre-dawn horse races with father, I miss it all. I miss father's voice and mother's stories. I'll always miss them and I'll always miss you all as well. There's no place like home and I will come back to you one day." She could feel tears filling her dark eyes but she was afraid to let them flow in fear they would smudge the kohl that lined her eyes and so everyone would know she had cried. She never cried, not even when she was only nine and she got lost north of the Wall leaving her to take care of herself for two months before her father managed to find her with the help of one of the direwolves from their Godswood. It was a fact; Ryssa Manalis never shed a tear. Taking a deep breath to calm herself a little she continued: "I'm not truly excited about going South. The heat would probably melt me before we've left the Riverlands. I am also not very keen on my hair changing colour but there is nothing I can very well do about it, now can I?"
They both gave small laughs before deciding to go and see how their boys were doing and, maybe, getting to sharpen their own skills with the blade a little. Strapping their bows to their backs they made their way to the other side of the yard.
There were already dozens of spectators watching the current spar and they were so thickly pushed together that there was no hope for the sisters to pass them. To make things worse, the girls' height didn't give them any view whatsoever since both sisters were at only 5'6". Looking around for a better place to see Ryssa noticed a window in the covered bridge between the armoury and the Great Keep. To make matters better, in the window she could see two familiar dark heads observing the fight. Like she had predicted, Jon sat in the window brooding with Arya next to him. Nudging Niantine with her elbow she pointed towards the window to which the younger girl nodded. Making sure their gear was securely strapped to them and that no arrows would fall out of the quivers, the sisters ran to the walls and quickly scaled to the window taking both dark haired siblings and their direwolves by surprise.
"How did you two get here?" Arya questioned with the look of utmost surprise still etched on her long face.
"We scaled the walls," Niantine answered in a deadpan tone of voice that told not to ask any more questions before taking a place next to the two siblings. Sometimes the soft spoken girl could be positively terrifying and this was one of those moments.
Ryssa peered over their shoulders as they continued to watch the spar in the yard below. She had hoped t might be her brothers fighting but to her disappointment it was the youngest, Bran and Prince Tommen. Bran was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen, who was plump to begin with, seemed positively round. They were huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms, a great stout keg of a man with magnificent white cheek whiskers. A dozen spectators, man and boy, were calling out encouragement, Robb's voice the loudest among them. She spotted Theon Greyjoy beside him, his black doublet emblazoned with the golden kraken of his House, a look of wry contempt on his face. Both of the combatants were staggering. Ryssa judged that they had been at it awhile.
"A shade more exhausting then needlework," Jon said to Arya.
"A shade more fun than needlework," Arya countered to what Jon smiled, reached over and messed up his sister's hair. Ryssa knew that Arya and Jon were always very close. It was plain obvious even to the blindest man. Jon cared for all his siblings but hic connection to Arya was stronger due to the fact that Arya never really card that Jon was a bastard. He was her brother and that was all the wild little girl needed.
"And what were you up to on this fine morning?" Jon asked Ryssa as both he and Arya turned to look at the two sisters who, despite their large difference in looks and personality, were as thick as thieves.
Ryssa shrugged, "Ah, the usual: rode to the nearest brothel in search of my brothers, gave the said brothers a lecture, dragged the said brothers back here and all but dressed them up and then dragged them back to the yard for their sparring lessons, had a little archery practice with my sister. You know, the stuff that happens on quiet days."
"You call that a quiet day?" Arya asked.
"You do not wish to know what we call a busy day," Niantine answered with a small smile tugging at the corners of her full lips. Success, Ryssa thought, they had managed to pull a smile form Nia. She must like them already. "Anyways," Niantine spoke to Jon," what are you doing up here instead of fighting down there?" The question immediately wiped the smile from Jon's face and replaced it with a stoic look that hid all the anger from most people's eyes before he threw them a half smile.
"Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes," he said. "Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords."
"Well that is certainly the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Niantine said keeping her eyes glued to the two battling boys in the yard. "Just because you're a bastard doesn't mean you're any less worth than them. In my eyes, respect is earned not given."
"I couldn't agree with you more," Ryssa added. Her gloved hand found Ghost's head and gave him a scratch behind his ears to which the lupine leaned into her touch. His white fur was fluffy and silky soft beneath her fingers which seemed silly since he was supposed to be a fierce beast but to her he was just a big puppy who wanted to play.
"Well, I could do better than Bran," Arya said suddenly. "He's only ten, I'm twelve." It was obvious she was trying to get her brother in a better mood. At her words the two sisters shared a small smile that went unnoticed from the side of the, more or less, Stark siblings.
Jon looked at his sister. "You're too skinny," he said taking her arm and feeling for the muscle. Then he sighed and shook his head at the young girl. "I doubt you could even lift a longsword , little sister, never mind swing one."
Arya snatched her arm back from her brother's grasp and glared at him with her grey eyes to which he responded by messing up her hair again before the quartet went back to watching Bran and Prince Tommen corcle each other.
It took only a few seconds before Niantine became bored and excused herself form their company taking Ryssa's archery equipment with her as she left. Ryssa merely shrugged at her sister and took her place at the window next to Jon.
"You see Prince Joffrey?" Jon asked Arya. Ryssa, too, couldn't help her black eyes search for the arrogant prince in the crowd as did the younger girl. It took only a few seconds for her trained eyes to find the boy. He stood a little to the side surrounded by squires and knights.
"Look at the arms of his surcoat," Jon suggested.
An ornate shield had been embroidered on the prince's padded surcoat. No doubt the needlework was exquisite. The arms were pided down the middle; on one side was the crowned stag of the royal House, on the other the lion of Lannister.
"The Lannisters are proud," Jon observed. "You'd think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother's House equal in honour to the king's."
"The woman is important too!" Arya protested.
Jon and Ryssa chuckled. "He's not saying women are more important, simply that the arrogance of some knows no limits," Ryssa explained to the younger girl. "When the Targeryans were at power and Prince Rhaegar wed Elia Martell, the Martell's did not wed the red sun to the three-headed dragon and we both know their opinion of women. The point is that some people are stuck up and arrogant and only wish to have more power which is something the Lannisters are trying to achieve by putting their lion next to the Baratheon stag."
"Oh," the younger girl said as she understood what Ryssa said.
"Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister," Jon joked. "Wed Tully to Stark on your arms."
"A wolf with a fish in its mouth?" It made her laugh. "That would look silly. Besides, if a girl can't fight, why should she have a coat of arms?"
Jon shrugged. "Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister."
There was a shout from the courtyard below. Prince Tommen was rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing. All the padding made him look like a turtle on its back. Bran was standing over him with upraised wooden sword, ready to whack him again once he regained his feet. The men began to laugh.
"Enough!" Ser Rodrik called out. He gave the prince a hand and yanked him back to his feet. "Well fought. Lew, Donnis, help them out of their armour." He looked around. "Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?"
Robb, already sweaty from a previous bout, moved forward eagerly. "Gladly."
Joffrey moved into the sunlight in response to Rodrik's summons. His hair shone like spun gold. He looked bored. "This is a game for children, Ser Rodrik."
Theon Greyjoy gave a sudden bark of laughter. "You are children," he said derisively.
"Robb may be a child," Joffrey said. "I am a prince. And I grow tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword."
"You got more swats than you gave, Joff," Robb said. "Are you afraid?"
Prince Joffrey looked at him. "Oh, terrified," he said. "You're so much older." Some of the Lannister men laughed.
Jon looked down on the scene with a frown. "Joffrey is truly a little shit," he told Arya.
Ser Rodrik tugged thoughtfully at his white whiskers. "What are you suggesting?" he asked the prince.
"Live steel."
"Done," Robb shot back. "You'll be sorry!"
The master-at-arms put a hand on Robb's shoulder to quiet him. "Live steel is too dangerous. I will permit you tourney swords, with blunted edges."
Joffrey said nothing, but a man strange to Arya, a tall knight with black hair and burn scars on his face, pushed forward in front of the prince. "This is your prince. Who are you to tell him he may not have an edge on his sword, ser?"
"Master-at-arms of Winterfell, Clegane, and you would do well not to forget it."
"Are you training women here?" the burned man wanted to know. He was muscled like a bull.
Hey, Ryssa thought at his comment, that's just plain rude. I could beat your sorry arse back to tomorrow if you made a comment like that again.
"I am training knights," Ser Rodrik said pointedly. "They will have steel when they are ready. When they are of an age."
The burned man looked at Robb. "How old are you, boy?"
"Seventeen," Robb said.
"I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it was not with a blunt sword."
Arya could see Robb bristle. His pride was wounded. He turned on Ser Rodrik. "Let me do it. I can beat him."
"Beat him with a tourney blade, then," Ser Rodrik said.
Joffrey shrugged. "Come and see me when you're older, Stark. If you're not too old." There was laughter from the Lannister men.
Ryssa had decided that she had had enough and yelled form her seat at the window: "I'll fight you!" All heads turned to the sound of her voice, even Jon and Arya looked at her in bewilderment. "That is, if you're not too scared you'll get beaten by a woman," she continued in an overly-sickly sweet voice as she jumped down from the window to the yard landing gracefully on her feet and walking up to the prince. She could see that the prince was bluffing the moment he mentioned live steel. He was too much of a coward to fight Robb fairly and he knew that Ser Rodrik would never allow them to practice with live steel. He was just a little momma's boy and she was now determined to prove it even if it meant risking the wrath of the royal family, namely the Queen. "So, what do you say? You going to fight me or not, boy? I don't have all day you know," she pressed on. She could see Joffrey's cheeks start turning redder from anger but before he could burst one of his knights yelled at her.
"How dare you?! Don't you know any respect for your Prince?!"
"I'll show him some respect when he has earned some, Ser," Ryssa pinned the man with an icy glare and she was glad to see a tiny shudder pass his body. "Respect is earned, not given and when he has given me a reason to respect him I shall but until then I shall not. Is that clear or do I have need of smaller words so that your small brain may comprehend that." The man stayed silent." I thought so." She turned back to the prince with a raised eyebrow. "So, your Grace, what shall it be?"