It may have taken her a few months, but Ryssa somehow managed to get used to the warmth of Winterfell. While in reality it was considered one of the coldest places in the Seven kingdoms, it was still warmer and sunnier than the ever cloudy and snowing Forgehammer. She had to forego all her thick furs and clothes, leaving them neatly folded within her trunk and dresser, and opt for her much lighter woolen dresses. She even stopped wearing her mittens when she was outside and was rarely seen wearing a cloak while practicing or riding.
She frustratedly started trying to untangle her stitching before Septa Mordane managed to notice. She wasn't even sure when they'd started twisting and tangling but she was inwardly cursing the person who thought that it was a woman's job to make embroideries. The fire that blazed in the hearth was too warm for her liking and her palms were left damp with sweat making holding the needle all that harder for her. Glancing to her left, Ryssa saw that Arya was not faring any better with her own stitching but at least her hands weren't sweaty as Ryssa's. Huffing to herself, she angrily continued to pull at the stitches and stab her work with her needle, pretending it was her sword and she was fighting some faceless imaginary enemy. That brought a tiny smile on her face. And so she continued to work stuck in her own head until Arya's voice broke the silence of the room (if it could be called a silence, since Sansa and Jeyne Poole were preoccupied with exchanging gossip with Septa Mordane pretending not to be intently listening in).
"What was life like for you before you came here, Ryssa?" the young girl asked, lifting her grey eyes from the stitching in her hands and looking over at the crimson-haired woman. "Did your mother ever force you to do stitching like mine does me?"
Ryssa smirked. "She did try to make a true lady out of me until I turned eight and, I believe, it was then that she realized that all her work was for naught. I can make and mend clothes just fine, but I have neither the talent not the patience for making embroideries, which is completely ironic when you look at the fact that I am able to spend up to several hours making sure that the weapon I'm crafting is just perfect." Arya's eyes grew so big at her words that Ryssa thought they'd completely overtake the girl's face.
"Your mother allows you to work in the forges?!" Ryssa nodded.
"It's completely normal for both men and women to works as smiths as long as they're good at what they do. If a woman is able to craft her own weapon and/or armour, she is permitted to train to be a soldier if she so wishes. If one is able to carry their own and has the wish and motivation, why should they be denied the opportunity to make a difference in the world and to help their own?" Ryssa scratched her chin before continuing. "I started my combat training when I was 3, I believe. Supposedly, my father claimed that I had the look of a warrior and so he insisted that I begin training much earlier than it is customed. My mother opposed, naturally, but eventually gave in and I was given the best teachers money could buy."
"That sounds like an amazing life," Arya commented with a wide grin.
Ryssa returned the girl's grin without lifting her eyes from her stitching, her hand angrily stabbing at the piece of white fabric which was supposed to hold a picture of a blue sun. "It's a good life bit it's not as perfect as you think it is. It's hard and unforgiving of mistakes. As far north as we are, the weather is cruel and any small mistake can mean life or death for you and your family. If you go hunting and return with no catch, you starve. A badly made weapon may just cost you your life when you're trying to defend yourself from robbers and outlaws," she spoke seriously. "The mountain can protect us only so much, and we must return the favor by living out life within it to the best possibility. The rules are very strict so that a comfortable life can be insured for all the inhabitants."
Listening to the redhead speak made Arya serious as well and a small crease formed itself between her eyebrows as she scrunched her face in concentration. "What did you mean by 'you return the favor to the mountain'?"
"Well, we only take what we need to survive from the mountain. We only grow as much food as it is necessary for the people to survive and what is necessary to sell so that everyone gets a somewhat equal share of everything. True, some get more, but it's not that much more than the poorest person gets. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen vagabonds or beggars around Forgehammer." Ryssa's eyes darted to Septa Mordane, checking to see if the woman was paying her and Arya any attention, but found her completely invested in a seemingly meaningless conversation with Sansa and Jeyne.
As quietly as she could, Ryssa got out of her seat and motioned for Arya to follow her. They left their unfinished stitching on their chairs and slipped out of the room. Ryssa was surprised with the younger girl's stealth but refrained from complimenting her on it as they were not yet out of danger. There still stood a chance that one of the servants could come by and inadvertedly sell them out to the sharp-eared bat that was Septa Mordane. Or, worse yet, they could run into Lady Stark herself. Thankfully, neither happened and the duo was able to get into Ryssa's chamber. Before, Arya could speak; Ryssa opened her trunk and started pulling out different bundles of cloth. With arms full, she went behind the changing screen to put on the clothes she'd pulled out.
"Ryssa," Arya's voice floated through the room as Ryssa was in the process of pulling on her vest over her tunic. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she retorted with a smirk when only her head popped from behind the screen. "I'm changing, silly."
"I can see that, but my question is: 'Why are you changing?'"
"I'm changing because I'm taking you out into the Godswood for the day. I might even show you how to use a dagger. I know you'd like that."
The young girl's grey eyes gleamed with excitement making them reminiscent of two diamonds. "Really?! You'll teach me?" She was practically bouncing in her seat on top of Ryssa's covers.
Ryssa shrugged as she appeared from behind the screen fully dressed in a woolen tunic reaching her knees with slits up the sides, leather vest, thick pants, tall boots, a pair of leather gloves on her hands and arm guards covering her forearms. She was tying her red hair in a tail with a leather string, sitting on the bed next to the young Stark. "I don't see why not," she answered. "You're eager to learn and I believe you'd make an excellent fighter if you had some practice. We'll be taking Wynter with us, so I'd like you to go back to your room and change into some thicker clothes. I'd hate for you to catch a cold on my watch." Arya eagerly nodded and got up to leave the room and sneak back to her own. "Meet me at the stables when you're done," Ryssa spoke with her back turned while she strapped her daggers to her thighs and pulled out a dark woolen cloak from her trunk to fasten it around her shoulders. The clicking of the door's lock indicated that Arya had left her chamber and Ryssa started packing a bag of wooden daggers and short swords for her and Arya to practice with.
As she turned to leave through her window, a small shimmer from her still open trunk caught her eye. She lowered her bag on the ground and returned to investigate. What she saw brought a sad smile on her face and a rush of memories welled inside her mind. Ryssa reached for the glimmering object. It felt cold and hard in her hand as it always had. Shutting her trunk, she hid the object in a pocket within her vest and turned back to the window. She slung the bag across her back, jumped out the window and ran across the roofs in the direction of the stables.
She was there within minutes. Quietly, Ryssa climbed her way down the walls, doing her best not to be detected, and snuck over to where Wynter was munching on some hay. Signaling for the horse to be quiet, she proceeded to saddle him and lead him out. Once outside, she met up with Arya, who had the mind to bring some food along with her so that the two would have something to eat while in the woods. Wordlessly, Ryssa lifted Arya onto Wynter's saddle before climbing up behind her and riding in the way of the Godswood. It only baffled her how neither she nor Arya were detected leaving.
...
"Never take your eyes off your opponent," Ryssa instructed, appearing suddenly behind Arya and holding her wooden dagger to the brunette's throat. "It may just cost you your life in a fight."
They've been at it for the last hour or so. Ryssa was certain that Arya would have bruises all over her ribs and arms from where she got a hit in while the little girl barely managed to snag the corner of Ryssa's rather loose tunic. And to think, Ryssa was holding back.
"I think that's enough of that for today," the redhead said dragging Arya over to the tree where they'd tied Wynter up even though the horse wouldn't bolt. "I think that if we keep this up, you might pass out, little wolf," she ruffled Arya's hair as they both sat down on Ryssa's cloak.
"How do you manage to do that every day, Ryssa?" Arya asked panting. She was too tired to swat away the redhead's hand from her hair. "It's exhausting."
Ryssa chuckled. "That's only because you're not used to it. I practiced like this every single day since I turned six so I've become used to it. If you were to do this every day, over time, you'd be able to practice for a longer period of time and you'd be able to hit harder, faster and with more precision." She passed a water skin to the exhausted girl. "Drink this and rest. If you need me, I'll be over there by the Heart tree," she pointed towards the said tree. Arya just nodded and Ryssa walked over to the white-barked tree.
In silence, she knelt and folded her hands in prayer. Ryssa went over her usual prayers: health and protection for her family and hosts, safety for all the people of Fogrehammer, the joking prayer for Therenger to finally marry... The last one caused her to snicker under her breath. Just as she was about to get up, she remembered the object currently residing inside her pocket. Carefully she pulled it out to observe.
The small metal box was as beautiful as the day she received it. The lid and the sides were decorated with tiny pictures of dragons, phoenixes and wolves, all done in gold and silver. She knew, within the box resided a tiny, yet complex mechanism which, when wound up with the small key that hung around her neck, would play a beautiful melody. The music box, as she was told it was called, was given to Ryssa by a dear friend. He had worked on it for months before he was content with the end result and presented her with it for her fifteenth birthday. She was so happy with her gift that she rarely went anywhere without it for months until a year ago today.
Ryssa looked over her shoulder to see Arya fast asleep on her cloak. Smiling she turned back to the box in her hands. "It's hard to believe it's already been a year, Aidan," she spoke softly, a sad smile on her lips. "I hope you can hear me, wherever you are, my friend. It's not the same without you. There's no one to tell me not to lose my head about the little things, no one to compliment my terrible embroideries... I wonder what you'd say about the Starks. I think you'd like them and everybody here at Winterfell. Well... Maybe not Theon." With a sigh, Ryssa pulled out the small key from around her neck and put it into the opening on the side of the box. Winding up the mechanism, she placed the box in her lap and pushed the lid open. The gentle melody floated through the air, piercing the silence of the woods. Ryssa closed her eyes, enjoying the nostalgic feeling the song gave her. Quietly, as not to wake the girl slumbering mere few feet away from her, she started to sing the lyrics of the song.
"It's been a long day
without you, my firend
and I'll tell you all about it
when I see you again.
We've come a long way
from where we began,
oh, I'll tell you all about it
when I see you again,
when I see you again..."
...
The next day, Arya and Ryssa were on their usual seats during harp lessons again watched over by the crooning bat called Septa Mordane. As expected, Sansa was the woman's favorite and excelled at playing the string instrument as well as singing. Arya, however, was terrible at playing and couldn't hold a tune to save her life. Granted, the girl tried but she simply wasn't made to be a gentle lady her mother and septa pictured her become.
As Sansa went over the last cords of her song and brought it to end, the septa turned to Ryssa and Arya with a scowl. "That, my girls, is how it's done. If you'd pay more attention in your lessons you might, at the very least, play the harp as well as Lady Sansa, if not sing."
"Ryssa can sing better than Sansa any day!" Arya exclaimed to Ryssa's surprise. Ryssa was positive Arya had never heard her sing. After all, she hadn't sung since the day she arrived to Winterfell.
"Oh? And how can you be sure?" the septa asked.
"Because I heard her sing yesterday!" The girl yelled before turning to the surprised redhead. "Please sing, Ryssa," she begged. "Sing that song you sang yesterday in the woods! Please, please, please, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Ryssa bit her lip. It was apparent now that Arya was not as fast asleep as she thought she was. Still, she wasn't truly comfortable with singing in front of all the unfamiliar people around her. In the full room, Arya, Sansa, Jeyne and the septa were the only people she knew, making her reluctant of singing. That song she sang was written especially for Aidan but she could never make herself sing the entire song. She thought the song wasn't truly as good as her friend deserved and she would break in tears in the middle of it. Looking into Arya's grey eyes, she was reminded of the look Aidan would give her when he wanted her to belt out a song, and she found herself melting slightly inside. She was aware of the looks she was receiving from the other occupants of the room but her black eyes were locked onto the Arya.
Sighing, Ryssa looked at Septa Mordane who gestured for her to play, a deep scowl etched on her face. Ryssa closed her eyes and let her fingers glide over the strings, the beginning notes of the song echoing off the stone walls of the room.
"It's been a long day
Without you, my friend
And I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
We've come a long way
From where we began
Oh I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
When I see you again
Why'd you have to leave so soon
Why'd you have to go
Why'd you have to leave me when I needed you the most
Cause' I don't really know how to tell ya'
With that feeling goes worse
I know you're in a better place
But it's always gonna hurt" Ryssa raised her voice slightly, gaining more and more confidence with every note flowing out of the mouth.
"Carry on
Give me all the strength I need
To carry on
It's been a long day
Without you, my friend
And I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
We've come a long way
From where we began
Oh I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
When I see you again
How do I breathe without you?
I'm feeling so cold
I'll be waiting right here for you
Till' the day you're home
Carry on
Give me all the strength I need
To carry on
So let the light guide your way
Hold every memory as you go
And every road you take
Will always lead you home, home
It's been a long day
Without you, my friend
And I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
We've come a long way
From where we began
Oh I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again
When I see you again
When I see you again
When I see you again..."
AN: So, I'm alive! I humbly apologize for not keeping my promise of giving you a 10k word chapter but this little thing's been nagging me in the back of my mind for the last few weeks and, after watching Furious 7 I just couldn't resist and this chappie basically wrote itself in the span of an hour and a half.
Also, I've almost finished writing my first book! There are only two more chapters left to write before I give it to my friend (it's written as a birthday gift for her). If she likes it, I'll translate it to English and post it to wattpad and fictionpress. Concerning that, again, I'll need a good cover for the book, so I was wondering, If any of you are good artists or know someone who is, would you be willing to make the cover for the book?
That's all for now! Hope you liked the chapter! Please read, fav, follow and review.
Love you all,
angel3