"This was always going to happen. She's been dead since the beginning."
- Aeschylus
It is a child's dream to outwit fate, to somehow escape the great ending that awaits us all.
But Orianne Fernwood would burn the world if it meant a moment longer w...
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A series of raps on her door interrupted Orianne midway through her letter.
A raven from Winterfell had just arrived, and the thin, looping letters were instantly recognizable to the young Fernwood.
Ned.
Orianne ripped the letter open without hesitation; it was the first letter she'd received since he had departed from the Eyrie to return home. Those weeks had left Orianne feeling her dearest friend's absence keenly.
The two wrote to each other constantly, her brother often joked that they would run out of ravens if they continued the way they did, but she ignored his jests and wrote to Ned even more often, if just to spite Euric.
They had been friends since their youth, the quiet Ned Stark finding an odd ally in the more outgoing Orianne. While Euric and Brandon were birds of a feather, their younger sibling's relationship was built on the foundation of their differences.
While Ned was straightforward with his words, never one to rely on flourish, he was a fine writer, and Orianne enjoyed reading about his escapades. More accurately, Ned wrote to her about whatever Robert Baratheon was up to and how Ned planned on keeping him from trouble. The letters were not the same as being around him, but Orianne accepted that it would have to do.
His most recent letter was penned simply, more intended to apprise Orianne of his travels from the Eyrie. Though there was nothing of importance in the letter, she had sat down quickly after reading it to write her response. It was mainly full of her chastising him for not writing, but she knew Ned would not mind.
That was where Orianne was, sitting at her black walnut writing desk when her brother came to knock upon her door.
With a huff, Orianne rose from her chair, taking care to weigh her letter down should a breeze pick up, and yanked open the door. At the sight of her brother Orianne's irritation only increased, her mouth falling into a glare at his smirking face.
"Don't you look happy to see me, little sister," Euric quipped, enjoying the sight of a frustrated Orianne.
"What is it you want, Euric?"
"Oh me? I don't want anything," Orianne's eyes rolled in repose, "but father, on the other hand..."
Euric turned around, slowly sauntering away, trying his hardest to draw out the game before Orianne grew too vexed with him.
"Euric, if you don't come back here, I'll tell father you've been sneaking off to bed serving girls instead of working on the ledgers."
Euric stumbled, meeting the eyes of his little sister, a shit-eating grin on her face at the knowledge that she had won their spar.
Too smart for her own good.
With his ego thoroughly bruised and the fear of his father's reprimand coursing through him, Euric conceded, "Fine, you win."
