The Lost Dragon | Game of Thrones

Chapter Four.

Sweat beaded down Violet's face as she hammered away at the sword in front of her. Today's employment had her in the armory, and she was currently flattening out a sword for one of the Baratheon soldiers. The soldier himself was currently leaning against a pillar watching her intently. Violet hated when people watched her work, the only exception being Arya who she believed really took an interest in weaponry.

But Violet had never had any interaction with the house Baratheon or Lannister before this week, and she was still very weary about all of them. She wiped the sweat from her brow and cooled down the fiery sword in a bucket of water mixed with ice. "Never seen a Smith work without gloves before" The soldier said to her, his eyebrows raised. 

"I'm not a smith, besides the fire doesn't hurt" She said with a shrug of her shoulders before handing the man his blade, handle first. "Also never seen a woman make a blade, you sure it's any good?" the man grumbled, looking at her perfect work with disdain. Violet only shrugged and hung her apron up on a nail before walking around the wooden pallet to grab the sword from the man.

She swung the sword through the air with ease before nipping the man lightly on the arm. He cried out in pain which caused her to bark with laughter. She hated when men underestimated her, but the look in their eye when they saw her work a blade was such a gratifying feeling for her. "The blade is fine, maybe you are the problem instead" She said with a sweet smile before beginning to walk away from him. The man however pushed her forward with the edge of his sword, causing her to stumble for a moment before quickly adjusting herself.

Beast was in her hand within seconds, and even quicker than that she had it at the mans throat. "Do not touch me, I have no problems slicing you from eye to cock" Violet sneered to the man, her earlier cheerful mood depleted from this single arrogant and pompous man. The Lannister soldiers liked to eye her like a piece of meat, the Baratheon soldiers were dumb oafs who drank too much wine. But this was the first man to threaten her with a weapon, the man had no idea she was trained in combat, but he surely would soon enough.

"I seriously doubt that" he grumbled, bringing the sword above his head to slice down atop her. She smirked before rolling forward on the ground, leaving the man confused to her disappearance. She stepped forward silently and encased the man's throat with her blade. She was stronger than she appeared, and there was no getting out of the hold she had on him. If he moved forward he would decapitate himself. If he moved backwards, Violet would do the job herself. 

She sensed the man's ego deflate, especially when she took notice of the audience they shared. "Oh seven Hell's Kenton, should I replace your spot in my kings guard with this young girl?!" She heard the kings loud boisterous voice shout across the yard. She let go of the man, and kicked him forward with her boot causing him to fall into the mud. 

"What is your name My Lady?" The king asked her, he was now standing in front of her, watching as she sheathed her sword. Violet bowed her head having no idea how to curtsy, and told him her name.

"Ah a pretty name child. Who's house do you belong to?" he asked motioning for her to take a walk with him, she sighed feeling awkward around the king but followed his orders anyway. "Nobody Your Grace, I am simply Violet Snow. A bastard of the North" 

"Even as a bastard child, you still must have some idea who you belong to" The king responded. Violet felt herself growing increasingly weary speaking with the king. She hated speaking about her heritage, since she simply had no earthly idea whom she belonged to.

"My lord, I have no idea who my mother and father are, not even an idea how I came to Winterfell. I once heard it was by turnip cart, but I do not trust Old Nan's stories as such" She said with a nervous laugh trying to change the subject. But the king seemed even more interested in her as it seemed, and this made her swallow hard. 

"I heard a similar story recently about a baby on a turnip cart" The king grumbled more to himself that to Violet, he seemed to be looking over every inch of her now. She felt inferior with her dirty silver hair, and grease from the armory and sweat layering her tan face. It made her so overwhelmingly self conscious that she turned and ran back in the direction of Winterfell leaving a very confused and intrigued king behind her.

~

Ned Stark wasn't sure what to think when the King alerted him he was coming to Winterfell, only the feeling he had in his gut. And when King Robert told him he needed him when they were out on a morning hunt, he knew the feeling was right. He was asked to become the new hand of the king. 

He sat across from Robert, an old friend whom he grew to love as a brother and picked around at the boar they killed hours prior. "Tell me about that silver haired girl, Ned" Robert suddenly asked, after taking a long sip from a goblet of wine. Ned looked at his friend confused, confused to why he wanted to know about a simple girl in the north. He knew Violet was normally intriguing to some people, a young woman who normally was more interested in things of a man, but she was no harm to anyone and Ned thought of her as a daughter.

"Why do you ask?" Ned asked with a raised eyebrow as he took a sip of his own wine. Robert seem to not get the answer he wanted and glared at Ned as if asking him to re-answer is question.

"Not much to tell, she's different than most young women. She serves as a banner man for house Stark." Ned told him, he spoke proudly of Violet. He was. He was proud of the woman she was, even if it wasn't as his lady wife thought she should be. "The only woman warrior in the North as it be" Ned added, placing his goblet down on the table.

"I spoke to the child today, spoke of a story of how she came to Winterfell on a turnip cart. Is that true?" Robert asked him, leaning forward in his chair looking more interested than Ned had ever seen him before. Ned frowned and tried hard to remember the day he saw baby Violet for the first time. He remembered Measter Luwin pulling Ned into the orphanage and telling him a story about where she came from, but he couldn't remember what the story was or why Measter Luwin told Ned she was so special.

Ned pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, trying his hardest to remember where the child came from. "I was recently told that the two Targaryen children in Essos are not the only ones out there. I was recently told about a third, that was stashed in a turnip cart. Bit of a coincidence isn't it?" Robert told him, glancing off into space deep in thought. 

Ned suddenly realized why the story seemed so familiar. Measter Luwin had alerted Ned that night after the sack of Kings Landing of a child stowed away on a turnip cart, a cart that had left Kings Landing. Now when Ned thought about her unique colored eyes and bright silver hair, the fact that fire nor cold effected her. He realized it was no coincidence, she was the third Targaryan child, the heir to the iron throne was currently fighting for Winterfell. 

If Robert knew that, Ned knew he would have her killed within moments, that is if she didn't kill whoever touched her first. He loved her like his daughter, and she fought valiantly for him on many occasions. So Ned lied to his friend, the king. An act of treason, Ned did not care. He would protect the young girl that him and his children loved.

But Ned felt he sealed the fate of many people when he said; "Violet's mother was a whore who was killed when she was four, her father was a bannerman for my house who died in battle" 

And because Robert trusted his friend, the answer satisfied him and he continued to get drunk on wine.