Witch of Winterfell*Game of Thrones*

Chapter Twenty

YOUNG JON SNOW THRUST HIS SWORD INTO A DUMMY.

Lady Stark's family had finally made it Winterfell and a feast was to be held. She had been fumbling about the castle all week in preparation.

She made sure Sansa was all dolled up and dressed in the finest silk the North had to offer. Arya had a fresh trim to her hair and a bit of blush on her cheeks, though it was hard to get her fitted into a dress. She had to swear an oath not to ruin the fabric or start any problems.

The stark boys, plus Jon, had their hair cut and new clothes tailored. Rickon, who is only three years old, only task was to be fed and made docile so she could show him off to her family.

Catelyn Stark made sure everyone in the castle was busy, especially Marina. All day, and sometimes we'll into the night, Lady Stark had been shouting orders down the halls. Only the biggest animals caught on a hunt were allowed past the walls. Only the shiniest of cutlery was allowed from the kitchens, and only the ripest of ales were allowed from the crypts.

A grand feast it surely is, yet, Jon was not to be allowed inside while the family conversed and frolicked. The bitter pain of being left to fend for himself wasn't new. He had dealt with it for as long as he could remember. It didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

With another grunt he thrust the sword into the dummy, drawing a bit of hay from beneath the thin fabric.

"I figured I'd find you here." Came a voice.

Jon turned his head to look over his shoulder at the newcomer before turning back to the dummy. Marina stood a few feet away with two plates in her hands, both covered with a napkin.

"Did you need somethin'?" Jon asks with a grunt as he swung the sword in different patterns. His tone came out more angry than he would like to admit, but he couldn't help it. He had to either be stuck in the dreary walls of his room or in the freezing cold of the evening.

Clearly he had chosen the latter.

"No, I just figured you were hungry." She sat the covered plates down on a stump where the sheath to his sword resided. Ghost immediately moved toward her, sniffing the air for food. "That and I needed to get away from all the drunken men. Southerners don't know how to hold their alcohol."

"Don't let Lady Stark hear you say that. She despises us enough as it is." Jon says, failing to keep the bitter tone from leaving his lips.

"Then she'll most likely be yelling at all of us." Came another voice. Jon looked back over at Marina to see most of the Stark children standing beside her in their heavy cloaks. "Lord Umber decided now is a good time to teach Rickon and Bran how to wield a sword."

Jon chuckled and stopped swinging all together. Arya moved to a nearby stack of hay to sit. The young girl had on a long dress under her cloak yet still sat as if she were wearing trousers, something Sansa immediately put a stop to.

"Arya, at least try and use the Septa's training. Must you always act like a man?" Sansa scowls. The eldest Stark girl pushed her sister's leg so that it rested over the other in a proper cross before sitting down beside her on a lower stack. "Would it kill you to at least act like a woman?"

Arya rolls her eyes but kept her legs crossed. "It just might with how tight this dress is."

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Robb asks, taking a seat on Marina's left. "Father said we all need to make a good impression on the King."

"Aye, and your mother said all the Stark children." Jon explains. "I'm to stay out of sight and out of mind until most of the southerners have retired for the night."