"A fighter that's all I ever wanted to be."
A warrior is a brave or experienced fighter.
That's what Jaidyn Mormont was raised to be.
Father and daughter separated by the Narrow Sea, she is thrown into the game of thrones.
Can she strive to be...
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Titles. Jaidyn hated them with a passion. If she was a boy then they wouldn't have mattered to her but instead she was a girl. A pregnant girl nonetheless. Not to mention a queen.
Before the war against the North and South, Jaidyn had made her amends with her title as lady. But now it was entirely more complex. Now everywhere she went it was "Your Grace" this and "Your Grace" that. She wanted nothing more to prove to them that she was more than a title. But how could she if everyone viewed her otherwise.
In fact, she had had enough of the stares she received when the lords came into discuss their problems. They preferred to discuss their doings with another Lord. So she assigned Maester Luwin and Bran to deal with the lords. She had convinced the two that it would be more beneficial for Bran than herself.
This lead her to the training grounds. But it had also brought heartache. The memories of Robb along with Jon and even Theon made her miss their presence. But it made her miss the feel of her sword.
Instead the quiver of arrows hung on her back, she was grateful that she could get the strap around herself with no assistance. But the itch to hold a sword spread rapidly through her. The wrapped item laid on a nearby table waiting for her to hold it.
She caved after moment of staring and proceeded to the table. She laid her bow and quiver down before grabbing the sword. She couldn't get over the beauty of the Valyrian steel that showed her reflection. A black bear carved on the handle reminding her of where she had come from. It gave her a feeling of bliss to hold this piece of weaponry.
The sword twirled and turned around as she swung it around to test the weight. With careful and precise movements, she struck a dummy set up. Her breathing careful as not to overexert herself.
It wasn't till she was done that she steadied her breathing. The dummy in front of her shredded beyond repair. And the sword in her hand felt in place.
Jaidyn Mormont was made to fight. But Jaidyn Stark was subjected to watch.
She let the sword to it's wrapping before calling out to a maid nearby. With the maid returning the weapons to her chambers, she made her way to the meetings that were being held. She wanted to check of how Bran was getting along.
Since the news of their father, the boys were never the same. Rickon was not the playful boy she once knew, he now distanced himself from her. And Bran had faced many challenges and it had taken his childhood from him. Now more than ever, did he want to prove himself to her and his brother that he could hold responsibilities.
"My lord, may the old gods watch over your brother and all our Northern sons. The walls of my holdfast will not stand the winter. The stones were last mortared in the time of King Aerys, and I'm afraid the masons today are not fit to carry their father's hammers." A lord stood in front of Bran began to explain his predicament.
