Disclaimer: I do not own Hary Potter or Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire, They belong to JK Rowling and HBO/JRR Martin. All hail the masters of fantasy.

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Chapter 2 - The Girl

Catlyn watched her so called "twins" as they made their way to the Sept. Sansa and Lyarra were very close to one another and she did not like it. Though she kept up a good show, she was tired of pretending. She had a feeling the "girl" could tell as well. The smiles for Sansa came easy and happily. Catlyn's smiles for the other redhead were forced and nearly came out as a grimace on some occasions.

It was hard to love the creature. She was just so... odd. Not a proper little lady like her precious Sansa at all. The girl preferred to play in the dirt and tried to pretend sword fight with the boys more often than she ever sat willingly in needle work or prayer.

Her lord husband and his banner men fondly called it "wolf blooded" and reminisced how Ned's sister had been of a similar nature. But how was that possible when the girl wasn't even true born to their family? Well, according to her husband the girl wasn't even human. No, Lyarra was not a true Stark. She was something... other.

At first, Catlyn had been in such a state at her husband, she hadn't even noticed the strangeness of the girl. She had merely been told that the old gods had saved her baby and given them a charge to raise as their own in payment. Of course she had been overjoyed at her little Sansa's recovery, but she had had no doubt her husband was lying to her at the time. She raged at Ned for days about bringing yet another bastard into their house and how he had truly gone to far in his dishonor this time. What husband would ask his wife to raise his mistress's baby as her own?

It had taken him hours to calm her and even then, it was only after he had shown her the decimated, bare limbed weirwood that she had even begun to listen in earnest to his ludicrous story. A story, that as time went by, had her more and more wary of the girl.

She had of course done her duty as a wife and lady and kept his secrets. To save face and keep from being shamed a second time to the rest of the seven kingdoms, she played along. The girls' birthing had been a long and rough one because she had been unknowingly carrying twins. They had both been given traditional Stark names. The first born had been named Sansa, after a well respected ancestor of her husband. One she had read about in the family archive that was known for her beauty and stead fast duty to her family. The perfect name for a child of Stark and Tully.

The second "girl" had been given a far more important name than her true born daughter however. Ned had named her Lyarra, after his mother. He had named the bastard girl after his own mother! Just as he had named the other bastard after his father figure. Or... at least, that is what she had thought at the time. He had claimed to her in private that he believed the child to be a vessel of the Old God that had saved Sansa and so, he had wanted to honor it. He told her they were to treat it as their own. The only rule was that Sansa and Lyarra were never to touch a weirwood, which was no problem in her eyes. She was a follower of the true gods after all.

It was easy at first to ignore the second girl. Catlyn would take her own little girl to dote on and leave the other to be cared for by the wet nurse when they were babes. She busied herself with the beautiful daughter that she had nearly lost and the heir she had delivered for her husband. The bastards were left to the servants and Ned. A point of contention between them was the fact that he spent so much time with those two when it should be his true-born children that he doted on, or so she believed. Ned on the other hand thought she paid them too little attention and felt the need to make up for it when his busy schedule as a lord permitted.

As far as the girl was concerned, Catlyn couldn't have been less interested in the beginning. Besides the strange eyes and the sharp coloration of the girl, there didn't seem to be anything overly off about the girl. At first, that is... She played, and laughed and cried like all other children. She was no more intelligent or capable than any other girl her age. It wasn't until the child started getting older that Catlyn noticed the strange happenings surrounding the girl.

It was subtle at first. A toy Catlyn had sworn she put out of reach that mysteriously ended up in Lyarra's little hands. The girl getting away from her minder and ending up right where her father was every time. But then, as she grew, more noticeable things began happening. Gowns changing color, bread turning to sweet cakes, Lyarra suddenly going from the ground one moment to being sat atop a roof the next.

To Catlyn, the girl was becoming... well, unsettling was the nicest term to come to mind, and the Lady of Winterfell had begun to fall back heavily on her religion. The Seven were great and from them she would draw her strength to deal with "it". She had even begun to believe that perhaps an evil spirit had tricked her lord husband. She had heard whispers from the the small folk that the girls' birth had been cursed since it coincided with the death of Winterfell's Heart Tree. If there was really something supernatural going on, then she doubted it was her husband's 'Old Gods'. More than likely, some sort of demon had seen an opportunity in her husband's grief and weakness.

Catlyn reasoned that whatever evil resided in the child may be able to be washed away by prayer and devotion. Ned had forbade the girls from ever entering the Gods Wood, so it made Catlyn's job all the more easy. She had pushed the girls to be proper and pious to a fault. While her true-born daughter was taking to it well, the little heathen was pushing back at every opportunity. Even now, as they walked to the Sept, the girl was unapologetically unladylike.

The lady of Winterfell huffed to herself as she notice Lyarra's unruly red lock were already halfway out of her braid and the day had barely begun. And there was mud on her new dress! The girl would drive her to madness yet. At least Sansa didn't let her "sister" drag her into the "wolf blooded" madness that was her way of life. Sansa would grow up to be a proper lady despite the bad influence constantly at her side, Catlyn would make sure of that. The Lady of Winterfell placed a hand on her swollen belly and prayed to the Seven her next child would be as well behaved as Rob and Sansa.

She was brought out of her musings by the sound of 'its' voice. "It's not fair," Lyarra said to Rob as they stopped at the doors to the Sept. "Why do we always have to come in here and be all proper and you and Jon get to go with father to the Gods Wood all the time?"

"Don't complain Lia," Sansa said. "I like the Sept. Besides, it is a lot cleaner than some dirty old woods."

"It's probably because you're girls," her son replied in all of his 7 year old wisdom. "Mother never goes in there and father says you and Sansa aren't allowed in, so that has to be it." Her son turned to her proudly as she walked up beside them. "Am I right mother?"

"No Rob," Catlyn answered. Lyarra's pout turned into a smug grin and her son looked put out. "But it was a good guess," she added. She did not like the look the girl was giving him. "I do go in the Gods Wood from time to time to fetch your father."

"Then why can we not go in there?" asked Lyarra.

"You'll have to ask your father," she answered curtly. "Now, inside with you lot. Get to your prayers."

"Yes mother," her true children answered and walked in to the Sept. The other girl just stood there pouting.

"Lyarra," she started sternly, "Go to your prayers... now."

"But mother," she whined, "I don't want to. I want to go to the Gods Wood today."

"Why the sudden interest?" It had really not been an issue before. The girl looked down at her feet, seeming unwilling to answer. "Lyarra," she said again in that stern tone again.

She reluctantly began to answer, "Jon said that 'true northerners worship the Old Gods and not some silly statues." She turned those unnerving green eyes up to her pleadingly. "Please don't yell at Jon. He isn't allowed to come to prayer with us, so it's not his fault he doesn't know any better," she begged.

Catlyn frowned down at her. She was about to reprimand her, but suddenly an idea began to form in her mind. "And where is Jon now?"

"He said he was going to the Gods Wood," she answered. "Can I go with him? Pleeeease?"

"Your Father has forbidden it," Catlyn replied and Lyarra's face fell a little. "However..." she gave a pause as if mulling something over, "since you have already made a mess of yourself, I suppose I could allow you to clean yourself up and change. You are in no fit state for the Sept as you are."

The girl looked surprised and ecstatic. "You mean I get to skip prayer today?"

Catlyn smirked slightly. "Just this once."

The girl, hearing what she wanted, darted past her in a flash. Seeming to remember her manners at the last moment, she nearly tripped over herself to run back and curtsey to Catlyn. "Thank you mother!" And then she was off again.

Catlyn didn't give her a second look as she made her own way into the Sept. The girl's interest had been peaked and her pride as a northerner poked by the other bastard. If the gods were good, maybe her husband's superstitions did have some truth to them and she could be done with the thing that called its self her daughter. At the very least, she wouldn't have to deal with the girl's unnatural interest in the Stranger today. Her own son and daughter were dutifully in prayer before the Warrior and Maiden respectively. She smiled, feeling pleased with herself as she went to her own spot before the mother to pray.

Yes, If the gods were good, this is how it would be everyday. Just her and her true children, praying in the light of the Seven.

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IVX: Thanks for reading