The White Rose of Winterfell

Chapter 1

Alysanne Stark grew up to be one of the only northern beauties who roamed Winterfell. She'd been called the Dragon of the North, the White Rose of Winterfell, with violet eyes, hair as white as snow, and pale, soft skin. Yet she carried a sharp tongue unrivalled and wit compared only to the wisest men. It had been said she looked identical to Lyanna Stark except for her violet eyes and silver hair.

The girl grew up with her cousins, Robb, Jon, Sansa, Bran, Arya and young Rickon.

"Aly! Where are you?" Sansa called, hoping she would help her with her needlepoint. Sansa was very skilled and probably didn't need her help. Still, Aly was confident that the young Stark needed someone to talk to about her emotions, and needlepoint was a good excuse.

Meanwhile, she stood in the courtyard watching as Arya, the youngest of the Stark daughters, sneaked out to shoot with her brothers. She had learnt from experience to practice on her own without her aunt's gaze. "Arya, your mother is to come, and she won't like it when she sees you with that bow."

As if rehearsed, Caitlyn Stark stood behind Alysanne. But Arya hadn't noticed yet, too concerned with her bow. "But Aly! She lets you fight with Robb and Theon!"

"Yes, but she's older and not my responsibility, Alysanne is my niece, she's at your father's command more than mine."

The comment stung, although true. Alysanne had no mother, and she had always considered her aunt her mother, although she wouldn't let her forget the obvious. "Yes, aunt, my uncle decided that if I followed my education perfectly, I could use my free time to train with your brothers."

Lady Stark looked at her niece with a small smirk, knowing how mischievous she was when she was little. The real reason that Alysanne was allowed to train with her male cousins is that both Caitlyn and Ned Stark came to understand the danger the child with white hair and violet eyes was in. Years before, a group of the commons people had heard that the daughter of the jewel of the realm was alive and living in Winterfell, so supporters of the newly crowned king Robert orchestrated an assassination attempt on young Alysanne Stark. So when the girl expressed her interest in combat and sword fighting, although worried about the king's response, both agreed to let her train. As long as she kept up with her needlework and performed all her duties, since as a high lady, she would one day have to marry a lord, "Alysanne please do not encourage misbehaviour from Arya."

"I don't see an issue with Arya learning under the same conditions I was allowed; if my memory serves me right, I was younger than she is now," Alysanne said, hoping such a remark would earn her a victory.

"Yes, but remember you take as much responsibility in your needle work as you do in your barbaric hobbies. Arya already neglects her duties, how will she cope with this too?"

Just behind Cat was Arya imitating her mother with exaggerated faces and hand gestures, and Alysanne couldn't help but chuckle a little while trying to maintain composure. Aunt Cat gave her one last look and moved on to reprimand Arya, taking her back to her Septa.

Lord Stark looked at his niece but moved his gaze towards Bran, who was upset that Arya was better with the bow than he was.

The opportunity presented itself as a traitor of the Night's Watch who had run away. Executions were seen as a right of passage when the child would become an adult. Alysanne had been exposed to death crudely at the age of ten and two, joined by Robb and Jon, who took it a year prior. But now it was time for Bran to do it. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword" he had told Alysanne. And she took it by heart, remembering it every day for the past years.

The moment they came back Alysanne looked at Bran, who seemed paler than normal, but had a small smile carrying one fur ball.

"Pup, what you carry there?"