"When winter comes, her flame will light the way."
Growing up in the North was something people did not take for granted; her family ruled the Icelands and the people that came with it. They trained the girls alongside of the boys, knowing the dange...
Chapter Three: Winterfell Game of Thrones, Season 1
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"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword." — Ned Stark
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WINTERFELL THE NORTH
The Great Hall of Winterfell was one she missed dearly. The burning fire behind the table and the northern men gathered for the feast on the tables in front of them. The Direwolves that the Stark children owned were a new surprise Nyssa didn't know about, nor had she had time to ask where the pups had come from.
The hall wasn't as large as Nyssa's home but Winterfell was half the size of The Icelands so she wasn't too surprised. Part of her preferred the smaller area as she felt closer to people, like a connection or family. She was close enough to see the laughter that the ember soldiers were having with those of Winterfell.
"Nyssa, is it true that even the girls learn to battle in The Icelands?" Arya questioned, turning to the older girl despite her sister's groans.
Ned watched his youngest daughter from the High table, knowing she was going to bring up fighting some way or another. He swore Arya should have been born a boy, she had more fight in her than Bran did.
"From the moment we're born," Nyssa nodded. "I learnt to swing a sword by the time I was your age. I've never been very good at swordcraft, it's the men that prefer to teach that. Women suit archery best, we're archers from birth."
"You'll have to show us some time," Robb commented as he sipped his drink.
"That I will," Nyssa hummed, glancing across the table at him. "Perhaps, we duel?"
"I don't think my father—"
"Our father says that if men won't fight us, it is because they are cowards," Milari interrupted quietly.
"Be nice, Milari," Nyssa warned in a joking tone. "These southerners are different to us."
"We're in the North!" Arya argued.
"We're further up North so to us, you're south of us...southerners," Nyssa smiled,"We're just teasing you. I won't make you fight me, I'd lose a sword fight. If you want a small archery session, I'm take that challenge."
Robb gave her a curt nod before Nyssa turned her full attention to Jon. He had been listening to their conservation with an amused look, glancing between Nyssa and Robb, unless he was looking at Loralai (who was talking to Sansa).
"My mother was right, your hair is very curly," Nyssa commented. "It suits you."
"Do you know a lot about hair, Lady Nyssa?"
"If you call me Lady again, I'll cut all that hair off."
"Lady Stark might have my head if I don't address you properly," said Jon lightly.
