"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 Four: A royale arrival 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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Nyssa Ember had never been a mystery, everyone knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of: it was something she valued. She wasn't an idiot, she knew people would always see her for a woman they thought they could call into their bed with a whistle and use like a toy. Nyssa also knew that's what the weakness of men was, thinking they could do what they wanted to a woman and pay no consequence.
There was always a consequence to a crime, even if you didn't recognise it as once.
The eldest Ember daughter remembered the day she was just a child, no older than nine, and a man had grabbed her from her hair and tried to force himself on her. He hadn't realised the young child was an Ember. Not that it mattered to Lord Ember, all rape was rape in his eyes, no matter the title. The man had only managed to put her against a wall and just begin to lift her dress when someone stabbed him in the shoulder. The next minute, she was sobbing against her mother's shoulder.
From that moment, she'd been immediately trained in swordcraft with the other boys and girls despite the fact she was becoming a skilled archery. She couldn't stop an attack with a bow if they snuck up behind her. She never saw the man again and it was years later that she learnt he'd been sent to the wall.
Now, a little older and a lot wiser, Nyssa Ember needed no protection. She was no longer terrified by men...she preferred to terrify them. She rarely did as no man felt they could ever be scared of a woman in westoros but they were always... surprised.
"Hello, Bran," Nyssa smiled softly. "Are you practising your archery again?"
"I was trying to because everyone is busy getting ready for the king," Bran mumbled. "And mother keeps catching me climbing."
"Let's see then," Nyssa insisted, nodding to the target.
As Bran tried to shoot, the Ember tried to pick out where he could be going wrong when he couldn't hit the target. With a light voice, she questioned what his brother had told him about shooting an arrow.
"They told me not to think about it too much," Bran replied.
"I'm inclined to disagree with them. Archery is a fine skill and men waste too much time shooting randomly and hoping they'll hit a target. They panic, don't think and shoot." Nyssa explained.
"What did they teach you?" Bran questioned, looking up at her.
"Correct your stance straight up, Relax your bow grip, concentrate and have a solid anchor point," Nyssa explained and with a small smirk, she released her arrow straight into the middle of the target.
