Orryn
The journey to Winterfell was long and slow. Uncle Robert demanded that I ride with him at the front of the convoy, and I gently reminded him that Joffrey should be at his side as well.
It took a few shouts to get the queen to release Joffrey from his carriage, but he did it well and rode with dignity.
The Stark family was large and strange. Each had their own unique ways, and things might have gone well if the king hadn't embarrassed himself by asking to visit the crypts as soon as he'd finished introducing himself.
We had a feast and it was interesting to see Lord Stark's eldest daughter, Sansa if I'm not mistaken, blush every time she looked at Joffrey. She favored her mother Tully and certainly grew up believing in the tales of knights, though I must admit that Joffrey had hiss well to fooled the girl.
The second daughter, Arya, was almost the opposite, a naughty girl who threw things at her older sister and made fun of me when I accompanied her to the feast. She'd probably rather be running around somewhere, but she wasn't mature enough to pretend otherwise.
"So, Lord Orryn, do you intend to accompany us to the exercise yard tomorrow?" Robb Stark, the heir, asked me.
"Yes, Lord Robb, I've never faced warriors from the North, but the stories of my father and uncle are very favorable."
"Look, he talks pretty, can he take more than two fights?". Theon Greyjoy, a damned hostage from the Iron Islands sitting at our table, scoffed.
"If the two fights were with you, Greyjoy, I wouldn't break a sweat."
I returned the attack and the conversation seemed to die. Robb Stark liked the Greyjoy boy, judging by his reaction, did he even know the idiot was a hostage? Someone whose head we were supposed to cut off to decorate the mast of a war galley at the first sign of his father's rebellion?
It was a little awkward the way the conversation went after that, but I didn't really mind, and as the evening went on I danced a few times. Once with Lady Sansa, who was nothing but kind and rather apathetic to anyone who wasn't Joffrey.
I danced once with Arya, who always seemed to make a point of stepping on my toes. My cousin Myrcella was kinder and asked me to spin her in the air, she was always sweet and always smiling happily.
The last dance of the evening was with Lady Sansa's companion, Jeyne Poole. A pretty, lean young woman with brown hair, she stared at me all evening, probably trying to work up some courage.
I listened to all her comments with a smile and spun her around in the air, just as I had done with Myrcella. Her cheeks turned so red that she returned to her seat after this dance, barely lifting her head, and I was finally free.
I went to my chambers and threw myself under the thick furs. They could say anything, that Winterfell was under a hot spring and that the hot water warmed the walls, but it was still very cold.
The dull steel clanged once more and I took two steps back. Theon Greyjoy came at me, as seemed to be his style, and unfortunately for him, I was a better swordsman.
I blocked the attack with the edge of my shield and knocked him off balance. I plunged my sword into his chest and Theon staggered backward, but he still managed to dodge.
I didn't let him recover and struck him in the arm with a wide blow that would surely hurt the night. His grip on the sword fell, and it was easy for me to disarm him after that. "Do you surrender?"
Greyjoy looked at me with a bit of hatred, but sighed and nodded. I held out my hand to him after the duel, not because I liked Theon, but because it was the honorable thing to do, and even though I had beaten him twice, I had to be magnanimous to my enemies.
Rodrick Cassel, the Master-at-Arms, called the next fight between Tommem and Bran, the two boys dressed in several layers of clothing. Joffrey mocked the scene and Bran's victory, and the Lannister men on the field also jeered.
"Then we should make a better presentation, shouldn't we, my prince?" Rob Stark replied. "Or do you not intend to fight me?".
The Stark men supported their heir and Joffrey stiffened. Rob was a good fighter, having fought me twice, one win and one loss, but he was more than Joffrey could handle.
"I will not fight because I am tired of this lie of dull steel. Live steel for the duel and I'll take it." Joffrey scoffed, gaining more support from his men.
"So be it." Rob Stark said as well, readying his sword.
"I won't allow it! There will be no living steel in my camp!" Rodrick Cassel shouted.
"The Prince has asked for it and he will have Cassel." The Hound grumbled and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Forget it Hound, that's what they teach in the North these days." Joffrey scoffed and several chuckles erupted.
Rob Stark wanted to say something, but I couldn't leave it at that. "There's no reason to fight here, we're all servants of the King."
"You're mocking us, Orryn, every knight worth a coin uses live steel when they train in our castle". Joffrey said to me, sword still in hand.
"And you're no ordinary knight, Joffrey, you're a prince, and a prince's sword is drawn only at his enemies. There are no enemies here in Winterfell". I spoke up and received appreciative comments from all the men.
"You're right, there's no need to dirty my sword for so little." Joffrey smiled again. "Come, Tommem, we must prepare for the night. Will you join us later, cousin?".
"Certainly, Joffrey." I said with a nod and a smile.
That's what I had to put up with, every little tension, every little disagreement that Joffrey kept trying to cause. Lord Stark would be the Hand of the King and everyone knew it, Sansa was already engaged to Joffrey and tonight there would be another feast, there always seemed to be another feast.
The men of the North were 'rough' like their food, but they were mostly good people. That didn't mean I didn't feel suffocated here, under so many eyes, under so many whispers.
This wasn't Dragonstone, where everything was quiet, this was only slightly better than the capital for me, and fortunately the air here didn't stink of shit. I wanted air, I wanted to hide with my mother and Shireen. But what lord hides like a coward? What lord can't face a simple banquet? I thought bitterly before I started to leave the hall.
As I stepped outside to get some night air, I noticed Lord Tyrion talking to a Stark-looking boy. I didn't recognize him from the training grounds, but he looked older than me, about Robb's age.
"Look Snow, we've got Lord Orryn with us!" Tyrion joked. "Come on Orryn, you're a clever boy, tell him not to freeze his balls off on that wall.
I looked at the young man, the bastard son of the honorable Ned Stark, and saw that he had just cried.
"Serving the wall is a great honor, even capable of washing away the stain of being a bastard." I replied simply.
My comment amused Tyrion but made the bastard a little nervous, he had probably been drinking.
"You don't know anything about being a bastard!" He growled.
"Not really, because I'm not one." I shrugged. "But I do know a few things, I know just by looking at you that you're well treated, you have nice clothes, a good sword and everyone says you're a great swordsman, so you must have received a good education. Your only regret is that your name isn't Stark".
"Is that all you care about? Good clothes? A good education? I've never received anything but cold stares from Lady Stark for anything other than wanting to be with my brothers." The bastard replied and Tyrion almost pulled up a chair to watch the show.
"Family, duty and honor, that's Tully's words. You stain her family by being here and making her 'raise' you. Your existence is a reminder of the duty to her that Lord Stark broke, and in the end, you will forever be the honorable Ned Stark's mistake. I think she has reason to dislike you."
"He got you there, didn't he, boy?" Tyrion said with a dry laugh.
"But that's not all bad, bastard." I continued to speak only to be interrupted.
"It's Jon! My name is Jon!".
"I don't remember asking your name or wanting to know it." I replied dismissively and this time he tried to hit me. I don't think I would have been able to defend myself if he hadn't been drunk, but luck smiled on me that night and I managed to push him back.
"Wake up to life, bastard! Like so many, you focus on what you want instead of what you have, and you have a lot! You have brothers who love you, you have friends, a father who was not ashamed to bring you home, and a path of your own to follow and conquer your glory like many of your ancestors. If all you had to do was endure Lady Stark's cold stare, so be it, there are bastards out there who suffer ten times as much!"
My words seemed to stun him and I pulled away, giving him another punch in the chest. I started to walk towards the exit, my breathing a little heavy, but I stopped and turned to him.
"I want to face you in the courtyard before you leave... not to clear up any misunderstandings, but to find out if you're really that good. After all... a bastard's weapon kills as much as any other, often more."
Cirilla's heart pounded in her chest as she bowed to Lady Selyse Baratheon and Lady Melisandre.
"Even though I carry a child in my womb, I will continue to fulfill my duties to Lady Shireen."
"Good to know, for now... And when you give birth? Will you still be able to fulfill your duties?" Lady Selyse asked harshly.
"I will do my best, My Lady, I will never be lax in my duties." Cirilla said, bowing even more.
"You are dismissed." Lady Selyse said, coldly pushing Cirilla away, but she didn't get very far.
"Wait, child." Melisandre said as she looked away from the fire in the brazier.
"Come to me."
Cirilla, still with her head down, did as she was told and stopped in front of the red priestess.
Melisandre walked up to the young woman and gave her a charming smile. One of her hands went down to Cirilla's belly, which hadn't even spoken yet.
"I see... your child will be strong like his father, he will surely be a warrior blessed by the Lord of Light."
"Thank you, my lady." Cirilla said a little stiffly, even more so when Melisandre gave her a warm kiss on the forehead.
"Go, may the blessings of R'hllor be with you."
Cirilla hurried out, leaving only the two ladies in the room.
"She was a smart girl, I thought about making her a governess, but I can't let her near Shireen, she'll be a bad influence. Surely she was pregnant before she got married and spread her legs on every pile of dirty hay." Lady Selyse said with great disgust.
"Don't do it Selyse, keep her close." Melisandre said, her attention fully focused on the other woman. "She is loyal to the promised prince. That is the kind of servant you should keep close."
"Was what you said about her child being blessed true?"
"Yes, a warrior with the strong blood of his father, I saw it in the flames." Melisandre recited melodically, pulling one of Selyse's hands to her chest. "I felt it in my heart."
Speechless and a little flushed, Lady Selyse swallowed before simply nodding.
"You're right, Lady Melisandre."
"Well, the flames don't lie, Lady Selyse. Soon your son will return and change with him, the flames have shown me that."
"And the flames don't lie." Lady Selyse said a little distantly as she looked at the flames in the fireplace.
"That's right darling, the flames don't lie." Melisandre whispered in his ear.