THE DAUGHTER AND THE WARD

It was a cold day, not unlike any other day, and the ice spidered through the earth in spindling, thin roots, catching the white light of the sun and glistening against the packed soil like silver. She thought they looked like cobwebs on a rainy day, and the chill didn't seem to bother her as she waited.

The world seemed quiet outside Winterfell's tall walls, where the bustle of ladies and soldiers and the small folk began to hasten as the King's party drew near, as if all the noise and the crowds only existed in the walls to begin with. The North was queer that way, she knew, with all its isolation and the harrowing cold, and she wondered what it would be like somewhere else.

From the Mill she could hear the rush from the Acorn Water, of a stream running against the stony river bed and the broken dam the farm hand's children had constructed. She'd had a good mind to wade through the little riverside with her direwolf, but she wasn't in the mood to upset Mother today, and skirts could carry an unbearable weight when soaked through. Instead she had seated herself on a plough, one knee pulled to her chest and the other hanging off the side with her wolf threading itself between the wood and her leg.

She was alone with her thoughts, the way she liked it, with only her wolf at her side and a wineskin she had thought to share.

It wasn't snowing, but the snow was never far, and her fur cloak was hooded and peaked far too wide for her head, obscuring her view until she let it fall uselessly and swathe her shoulders. Her brother's liked to pull on her hood when they saw her, and they had seen her less and less as the days went by, Father was concerned.

Soon enough she saw a dark head of hair appear from the stables, bobbing with a joyful skip in step as the figure went about lacing up his britches. They were a silvery-grey lambswool, and such finery could only belong to one person, along with the white leather belt hanging low at his waist.

"I knew I'd find you here," Eledei called, taking delight in the way he jumped. It wasn't often she bothered to surprise people. "Tell me, how is the miller's wife?"

Theon Greyjoy scowled, but his eyes were smiling at her. He could never be mad after getting his cock wet, he was wane to be mad at her in the first place. "Keep your voice down, her Husband isn't far."

He eyed her chest, it's bodice a silver grey, almost white in its glow, and embroidered with darker roses. He supposed her lady Mother had had it made specially for today, and he wouldn't deny she looked pretty in it.

Eledei Stark was too lean to be well endowed, but he liked her perky tits well enough to stare, and the flare of her hips against her small waist- he bet the flesh of her hips was soft to the touch and easy to hold, that she'd shiver if his fingers ghosted along the stretched skin over her ribs and quake around him. He wondered if her Mother knew about those thoughts in his head, the ones that came up more often now, and if she did know would she still had put in a request for such a gown?

Theon let himself, if only for a moment, imagine that those small dark roses were Kraken's instead.

"Why is it that you're never anywhere to be found when I look but you can find me so easily?" He wondered, coming to lean against the a thick rafter of the barn, his words as suggestive as his looks as he gave his breeches one last tug and went about fastening his belt.

She grinned at the horrible flirt of a ward, "I brought a wineskin, I know you must have worked up a thirst."

Theon let out a laugh, settling into his cocky grin with his tall lean frame and wiry muscle looming over her. "Beauty and brains, I've got my work cut out with you, Edei."

The wineskin was shared between them, passing from hands languidly as the wine warmed their skin and their laughter. The direwolf strayed a bit, as vicious in nature as it was quiet.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Theon said, toying with her red hair that she wore in a braid for once. He thought he liked it better undone.

Sansa, only that morning, had begged her sister to give her a braid, too. She had said no, ignoring her Mother's disapproving looks, and took her leave without dismissal. Perhaps her fanciful sister was used to her surliness, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. And maybe Elenei knew that, though she was dubious to care.

"No," she admitted, taking the last drink from the wineskin, lips stained red.

The wolf looked a lot like blood money to her, it's black coat shining with a reddish bronze hue. It was thirsty for blood, too. She considered her wolf for a moment, but she couldn't find a word for it, couldn't find a name deserving of her only companion in the world. Names, fickle things they were, she thought, blown with the wind- and Robb had called his Grey Wind.

"I have a sister called Yara," Theon told her all at once, maybe for no reason.

"Sisters are a done deal, they squabble too much. Arya might have had the right idea, naming hers after some long dead person, but I reckon Rickon said it best. Shaggydog is a fine name."

"If that's what you believe. I've never seen an animal that colour, or one so keen on killing everything in sight."

"I like her, she's endearing. Even so with blood on her teeth."

"She's missing a tooth or two, isn't she?" He gave her braid a sharp tug, wheedling forward so as to get a better look at the beast. "Toothless, she is."

He was right. Cheek to cheek with her, they watched the direwolf flitter a bird, it's chirps dying as its neck went at an odd angle, feathers coming loose. It was hard to tell, but she had lost a premolar on the top left, only visible when her snout tugged into what looked like a sharp grin and her teeth glimpsed.

It was her wolf that was the only one able to catch a bird, she was bigger than even Ghost, Jon's wolf, and growing still.

"Maybe that's what you should call her. Toothless," he snickered, jaw jumping against her own.

Shrugging, she hid the empty wineskin within the folds of her skirts, pushing off the plough. Standing, she was nearly as tall as Theon, if only a bit shorter for being the fairer sex. There didn't seem to be much fair about her sex at all, she would be prone to argue, but she was happy to keep quiet about it if it meant she didn't have to speak that much.

Someday, the two of them thought they might marry, though her Lord Father had never said as much. In fact, he hadn't said much of anything to her in the passing years, not after the incident. But to them, the ward and the daughter, it made more than sense.

The two of them watched the unnamed wolf push the bird's corpse along playfully, walking away from the mill and following the river for a while. It might have looked odd, two youths and a direwolf pup, but the North was a strange place, it was all they knew.

"Why did you come find me in the first place, Edei?"

Theon ducked under a tall branch, hair ruffled by twigs and leaves of the forest, as surefooted as only a hunter could be. He didn't trip, not even when the wolf ran out from beneath his feet or took to winding between their legs, dead bird still at its mouth only to be dropped and kicked along the floor by overgrown paws.

It wasn't often the eldest Stark sought out company, she liked to be left alone and disappeared more often than not, with only that wolf of hers in tow. He considered her for a while, eyeing her different from before, smiling a clever smile as if he knew all her secrets.

Eledei often ran away. It made her Mother cry until the tears finally dried up and her Father worry until resignation settled over him- They never knew where to find her or why she had ran in the first place. She was only young, then, quiet at the best of times, and she could never find the words to explain why she ran. Older, now, and prettier still, she didn't say much.

"I was bored," she told him, "and it's sad to drink alone."

(AN: I get bored of nice Stark OC's. I think the Stark's can be as moody and sullen as Stannis sometimes, so I figured it would be fun to give Eledei a really unappealing outlook and horrible temper.)