( PART I; a dreary existence. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 1: supper table of bastards.

RAINA'S dark eyes stared into the North's distance, running along the seemingly endless tree line of mottled pine and oak. Even further than the tree line was the rolling hills that eventually led toward the Wall. The area between Winterfell and the forest was a plain of pale grass and dotted stone outcroppings. It was known that the North was a dreary place to most, but true and deep appreciation was found for those who could find beauty in it. It was found in the light summer snows that would fall on cloudy days, only to melt once they touched stone or dirt. The earthy smell hung in the breeze of the Wolf's Wood and the crispness of a frigid morning.

She felt a sweet appreciation for it all. It ran deep enough in her veins that when Raina faced a troubling day, she found peace by venturing to Godswood or Wolf's Wood when she was lucky.

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned to leave the walkway along the battlements and toward the steps. Soon, she would meet Jon in the kitchen to sup. Sometimes, they were forced to if  Lady Stark was in a mood that day. On this particular one, she was.

Raina hadn't meant to bump into the candlestick in the main hall teeming with hot liquid wax earlier in the morning. Nor did she mean for it to tumble over and spill its contents onto the table that held Lady Stark's newly finished tapestry due to be hung by servants.

To say the least, Raina spent the rest of her time outside the keep and away from the wrath Catelyn had unleashed on her initially. She'd spent her time isolated, as she sometimes did if Jon was busy or Arya was sucked into her Lady duties.

As Raina drifted down the dim hallway, past the dining hall where the Starks had already gathered for supper, and towards the kitchen, she thought about the dreary day. It was a shame that it had turned so bitter, as she had awoken that morning in high spirits. Catelyn Stark was good at making things take a turn for the worse. Raina had immediately accepted her fate of a harsh scalding from Catelyn, but the auburn-haired woman's resentment toward the bastard had always seemed too unfair.

She nor Jon had asked to be born. Nor had they asked to be brought home with their father to live as his bastards after the Rebellion. Bastards were a dishonorable stain on a house, but what could have been done? Catelyn had verbally expressed what her decision would have been. Leave Raina and Jon to be claimed by a lowly peasant or farmer or, to her amusement, a pack of wolves. Why couldn't their mother have kept them? Those questions had run through her thoughts more than she could ever count.

Arriving in the kitchen, she found Jon seated at one of the small tables near the wall. With merely a candlestick and the blazing hearth to offer light, it might seem like a dreary place to dine, but Raina and Jon thought otherwise. It was normally where servants would break their fasts or sup out of the sight of nobles. It also served as the supper table of bastards when the occasion called.

"Right on time," Jon commented once he saw her making her way to sit adjacent to him. He was already picking away a roasted dove in plum sauce, accompanied by a baked potato. Even though they were bastards, they still dined as the Starks did. Luckily, the servants treated them kindly. They understood the pain.

"As I always am," Raina replied in a less than enthusiastic tone before she took the pitcher of wine and began to pour it into her tankard. It was almost to the brim before she stopped.

"Are you looking to be drunk by the end of supper?" Jon asked with a grin. Seeing him in high spirits was strange, yet she was too bitter to acknowledge it. "Because it sure seems so."

"Now isn't the time, Jon," Raina muttered before she took the wine and downed a gulp. The tankard was half empty before she set it down. The bitter yet sweet taste of the crimson liquid clung to her tongue but soon disappeared as she began to chew angrily into a piece of her dove on a shared platter between them.

"What's wrong?" He asked as his original smile faded. "Is it Catelyn again?"

"Of course, you didn't hear," Raina muttered, reaching for her wine again.

"How am I supposed to hear anything if I'm in the Wolfswood with Theon and Robb all day?" Jon retorted.

"Just forget it," Raina muttered in annoyance.

Jon scoffed. "Come on now, don't do this. Today was a good day."

"It was a good day for you!" She muttered. "You enjoyed the Wolfswood with Robb and Theon while I faced Catelyn's wrath for something entirely accidental. Trust me, today was not a good day. I spent most of my time in the cold so I wouldn't have to see her smug looks." 

Raina could have easily found respite in her chambers, but the keep walls felt suffocating regardless of the location.

Jon's expression softened in understanding. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—,"

"It's fine," Raina sighed as she continued to eat and speak between bites. "I don't understand why she treats me so much worse than you. It's as if she reserves it for me solely. We're both bastards in her eyes, yet I receive the brunt of her wrath."

"I think it's because you're a girl," Jon stated. "It makes sense. She's jealous of you entirely. Sansa's prissy, and Arya is a handful who hates being a lady. You're quiet, meek, and beautiful; everything that could ever be asked of a noble lady. How could she not be jealous?"

"I mean, being her husband's bastard doesn't help," she muttered. The two sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke up. "I often wonder what we will do once Father is gone."

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"What we will do with ourselves," She replied. "Once father's gone, Robb's lord and Sansa and Arya have been married off. What is there to do for a female bastard?"

Jon allowed a smirk to tug at the corner of his lips, and Raina reached over the table to half-playfully slap his shoulder. Even in serious situations, he would often joke about things that were unseemly.

"Why must you make such jokes?" She half mutters despite displaying a smile. "No, Jon, a brothel is not something I'm interested in. I can't believe you'd insinuate such a thing about your sister!"

"It was merely a jest!" He defended himself. "I swear on it. But Raina, there's always something to do. You're not an ordinary bastard. Just like I, you are a daughter of high birth. You could find a role in this world. A handmaiden for a lady would be just fine. Or perhaps a knight in the south would take you as his wife. You're beautiful enough."

She rolled her eyes. "If only a knight would take me. But a handmaiden seems as if it'll be my only option. But you have far better options than me. I know you're a little old, but maybe becoming a squire in the south would be an option. Or something of the sort. I know your swordplay is almost as good as Ser Rodrik's."

"I think the Watch is the best for me," he answered, causing Raina to freeze where she was, chalice in hand. Uncle Benjen found his place there after the Rebellion and did well. Of all the things I could do, the Watch would be my best option."

She stumbled over her thoughts for a second before she could even reply. If Jon joined the Watch, there was no telling what would happen between them. He could die beyond the Wall at the hands of Wildlings or, worse, the Others. They had always been together. How could she handle such a drastic change, let alone the chances of him dying?

"You can't be serious?" She uttered, brows furrowed, and dark eyes narrowed on him.

"As serious as I've ever been," he replied hesitantly. "It's an honorable thing to do."

"It always takes away any possibility of ever having a wife or your own children," Raina retorted. "Don't tell me you could live without knowing a woman for the rest of your days. Or having your own children. Robb would keep you amongst his household without question."

"Children with the same name as you and I?" He asked. "Snow. I don't think that would be a very good family name. My point is, Raina, why bring more Snows into the world when you and I are already burdened with such weight?" He continued. "This is my life to live, Raina. I know what I want. You need to decide that for yourself."

❆

"RAINA, you have to come to the courtyard!" Arya's excited voice declared with glee as she burst into Raina's chambers the next day. That day had been slow, considering that Jon and the other boys had been tugged along to attend an execution by their Lord father. As far she was aware, it was a deserter from the Watch. It normally was. She'd hoped deep down as she watched Jon and the rest of them leave on their horses that her brother's decision to take the Black would churn and turn into some unattractive to him. The chances were slim, but she could only hope.

"What is it?" she asked her younger sister as she was being tugged to her feet. She'd been working on an embroidery when the fiery little girl burst through her door.

"Father's returned, and they've brought along dire wolves!" Arya shrieked happily.

The thought of such a thing being true was unlikely, but Raina followed it as Arya dragged her out of the room and down the hall. At some points, she was forced to jog to keep up with her little sister.

When they finally broke into the muddy courtyard, they found their brothers and Stark men dismounting and leading horses away. Of all the moving bodies, Raina could pick out the distinct mop of black curls moving around a grey palfrey. They belonged to Jon.

As she and Arya met Jon, she was astonished to see him holding an actual dire-wolf pup, just as Arya had said. With a pelt as white as snow and eyes red as rubies, there was no way it could have been any ordinary hound.

"We found them on the way home," Jon told her as she left Arya's side to caress the little head of the animal gently. "Their mother had been killed by a stag, unfortunately. We found seven in total."

"See, I told you!" Arya chirped happily before running off to claim her own pup, most likely.

As if I'm on cue, a Stark soldier walks up with a black pup held by the scruff. Its little blue eyes look around while its ears are pinned back. She took the animal into her arms but could not tear her eyes away.

"I can't believe it," she states in disbelief. "Dire-wolves. This south of the Wall. And father permitted we keep them?"

Jon nodded. "Yes, but begrundingly. He said we'd train them ourselves and care for them as well. If the worst was to come, bury them too. Yours is female."

"Did you decide on a name for yours?" She asked him, referring to the little white pup. Surprisingly, it was smaller than hers, which meant it must have been a runt. She could only think about how strange it was to see the sigil of their father's house in real life and bestowed on the two of them no less. The irony was almost too much.

"I thought the name Ghost would be appropriate," Jon replied. "He hasn't made a peep. White as snow, too."

"I like it," Raina agreed. "Fits well, I dare say." She lifted her pup up into view to gaze at its icy blue eyes. She was so little and so fluffy that Raina had a hard time placing a heroic name befit of such an animal. "Now, a name is needed for this little one."

There had been a young boy visiting from Winterstown moons ago who had been very kind to Raina. He spoke to her respectfully, calling her 'm'lady' despite her not being noble. Everyone in the small town south of Winterfell knew of her and Jon's existence, of Lord Eddard's bastards, yet the boy was still so sweet. She could only remember the boy's name and how she wanted to remember him.

"I think her name will be Stryder," she told Jon, who nodded in agreement. She looked into the pup's blue eyes and smiled to herself. "In memory of an act of kindness."