Weeping Thorns

Chapter 1: Prologue

~Kasondra~

I was born of the midst of a damp summer morning. My mother said I never cried or squalled like a newborn should. I had always been that way, calm and collected. A wolf does not howl just to hear his own call. I had no friends outside of my sisters.
Even those two were pushing my trust boundaries.

I only felt content when I was praying at the Weirwood tree. The beautiful red leaves represented the blood shed for our freedom. Only Jon seemed to understand my love for religion. It gave me something to focus on when I left this cold and cruel world.

Jon Snow.

My mother treated him as a plaque she couldn't get rid of. Jon tried his best to please her, but she saw him as nothing but a bastard. I saw what the true Jon was like. He was a little goofy but really cared for his family, even if some refused to see it. Mother never approved of me hanging around Jon so much, but I honestly didn't care.

I was only 3 when Jon was brought home as a young lad. My mother was infuriated and the kingdom saw the oncoming feud between the Lord and Lady of house Stark. But true love will prevail. Mother learned to deal with Jon's presence and ignore him other than necessities.

Now on to my sisters. I favored Arya over Sansa only for the fact that Sansa dreamed about being a queen and baring the princes and princesses for her beloved. Arya looked up to me in a sense. I often caught her trying to match my prideful stride or take up my stern attitude.

I was the only person that could pull off my attitude without being beheaded at first sight.

It wasn't because I was a Lady of the North, but people found my demeanor untrustworthy and fearful. I did not play childish games, but got straight to the point in an argument or discussion. They were wise to keep their distance.

I was always told I had the exact look of a Tully. While this pleased my mother, I secretly despised my bright red hair. If I were a man, it would be a hazard in battle. Light would catch it just so, and it could blind a man. Mother loved to brush it out or braid it whenever she found the chance as a child.

My real appearance rested in the Starks. I wished to have the dark hair and light blue eyes. Instead I had wild red hair and dark blue eyes, nothing like a Stark. But I had the wolf blood that ran through my veins every second. Nothing could change that.

In truth, I loved my mother and father equally, of course. But I found myself going to my mother if I were to have a problem. It even surprised me sometimes that I held my trust and troubles with Catelyn. She was the strongest woman I knew, fearless and willing to do anything to protect those she loved. I could see her in me various times, through appearance and attitude. I was frequently told how I had the appearance of a full-blood Tully, eyes and all.

This never angered me, but I loathed the Tully's. I never saw my grandfather, nor my aunt. She was married to Jon Arryn who was once my father's tutor of sorts. King Robert and Father are good friends and studied with Jon on many occasions when they were young.

I never wanted to be decorated and shown off like some fancy horse in the capital. I craved the battlefield, the blood and sweat of a solider. Yet I was born a lady and was forced to sustain the greedy eyes of every man I passed. Being a woman was looked down upon. You were nothing better than a goat to be sold off to a high lord.

I have come of age only a few weeks ago. Mother was already searching for a suitable husband despite my complaints. Father found the ode troubling as his oldest daughter would leave home soon enough. I would bare a man's children and bring life into the world like many women before me.

That was not the life I wished to live. I craved the adventures like Visenya and Rhaenys who rode on the backs of dragons and burned cities to the ground. Those women were the ones I looked up to. Not the Mother, who blessed her followers with fertility and healthy child birth.

I followed the Old Gods as my father did. But I often caught my mother praying to the 7 Gods. I understood the religion and didn't disagree with all their ways, but I wasn't a follower.

Now, I wish to share the story of how my f family slipped through my fingers like ashes. My father once said "When the Snows fall and the White Winds blow, The lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

For once, Eddard Stark was wrong.

Terribly Wrong.

~Chapter End~

So I've rewrote this for the 3rd time. I really hope I keep this and don't change my mind. I finished watching the second season and fell in love all over again. Thank you for reading!