The Dalyngridge Girl ➝ Bran Stark

I.

1 Year Later.

Mare sighed as she poked her finger with the needle she was using to stitch her fabric. She could hear the arrows hitting targets outside and wished she could be out there with the rest of the boys. The only problem was that Ned and Lady Catelyn had told her that she was to be raised as a lady. Now, she couldn't complain because Ned and Catelyn were nothing but kind and gentle with her. The Stark children treated her as if she was one of them, and she was especially close to Arya and Bran. She was the same age as Bran, but he would always brag about how he was a few months older. It made her angry because he acted as if he was so much better and smarter than her. On the plus side, she was taller. That was a mini victory in itself for her.

She and Arya weren't ladylike though; maybe that's what resulted in her friendship. They both played in the mud and climbed trees and hung around the horse barns and hay lofts whenever they could; they were a couple of wild children. However, Mare knew that there was a time and place to act crazy. Arya barely had any self-control.

"Psst," Arya hissed, bumping her leg. Mare looked at her, her eyes wide with surprise.

"What?" she whispered back.

"Let's go," she mouthed, nodding her head towards the door. Mare stopped and thought for a moment. What would Catelyn think if she heard that she escaped her sewing session?

Mare decided to throw all morals out of the window of her mind, just this once. She grinned at Arya and the two girls set down their sewing and stood abruptly.

"We need to use the bathroom," Arya giggled, clutching onto Mare's hand as they slowly backed out of the room. Sansa shot them a dirty glare which made them giggle harder.

"Yeah," Mare fibbed slyly. "Bathroom." The two girls ran out of the room, laughter trailing behind them like hungry dogs.

Outside, Bran was shooting a bow and arrows. Jon Snow and Robb stood beside him, and Bran missed badly every time he let go of the bow string. Arya and Mare had to keep their giggles quiet.

"You do it," Arya challenged. "Show him that you can be better if you want to."

"No, you!" Mare whispered-yelled back. "You have a better shot than I do."

Arya snorted. "Just shoot it. March right up to him and show him how it's done."

"Arya I will not!" Mare huffed, cheeks turning slightly red. Arya frowned at her friend and picked up a bow from its place hanging on a wall.

"You're good, Mare. It's a talent. Why don't you want anyone to know?"

"Because what use is a woman who knows how to fight? They don't let us fight in wars. Better to keep it secret then, right?"

Arya rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous." She knocked an arrow and pulled the bowstring back until it grazed her cheek. Then she lifted her chin proudly into the air. "I can fight in any war I want to and no man will stop me. Ever." She released her grip and the arrow flew straight into the bullseye of the target. Robb, Jon, and Bran's head snapped back to see the two girls staring wide-eyed back at them.

Bran's scowl turned to one of malice as he took off running towards Arya. She too began to run, and Mare made her way to stand by Jon as they all watched the siblings chase and scream after each other.

"Sometimes I'm glad you aren't as crazy as they are," Jon chuckled to Mare. "You're far more mellow. It makes it easier to have a conversation with you."

Mare shrugged. "Catelyn worries about that. She hasn't told me but I can just tell. I overheard her talking to Maester Luwin one night. She said that when I was first found I developed a fever because of an infection to my cut. She's worried that it affected my head."

Jon snorted, his brows knitted together in disbelief. "Nonsense. You're just mature."

Mare shrugged again. "Yeah, possibly. Or just very different."

---

Mare yelped as her handmaiden yanked through her hair with a brush.

"Sorry dear," the handmaiden apologized, "but if I may say so, it wouldn't be so bad if you stopped rolling around in mud and leaves."

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Mare laughed quietly.

The older woman chuckled. "I guess you do have a point. When I was younger, I couldn't do that or else I'd be in a world of trouble. You're lucky Lady Catelyn is so accepting of you."

The handmaiden finished brushing Mare's hair and braided it around her head so it was forming a sort of hair-crown. With the help of her handmaiden, Mare then slipped into a dull grey dress that had long, flowing sleeves. She shrugged on her cloak and headed outside to meet the rest of the Starks for King Robert's arrival.

Bran greeted her with a nudge to the ribs and a playful smile, and all the Stark children lined up in order of age; Rickon being the last and Robb being the first. Theon stood behind their row with a smug look on his face, and Jon stood next to him. Mare took her place right next to Jon, and he smiled down at her proudly.

As all of the horses rode up, Mare stared at them in awe. They were just so magnificent; she wished she could be on horseback at that moment, but unfortunately for her the King had paid them a very unexpected visit.

King Robert Baratheon rode in and everyone got on their knees and bowed. Mare took a moment before she did, admiring his horse. She got on her knees hurriedly, the fear of being thought of as disrespectful creeping in the back of her mind.

Once the king signaled for Lord Stark to rise off of his knees, everyone else followed. They exchanged a hug and some words before the king moved on to examine the children. He complimented them here and there, and then, at last, he came to Mare.

"And what might your name be?" he asked her.

"Mare Dalyngridge," she murmured shyly, her voice sounding small. Before he could question why her last name wasn't Stark, Ned spoke up.

"We took her in after she was almost killed by one of my men," Ned explained. "I couldn't leave her to die."

After a short while, the king and Ned had headed to the crypts to pay their respects. Arya went with Lady Catelyn and Sansa to see to the queen, so that left Bran, Mare, and Rickon to roam around the village, stealing every sweet treat they could get their hands on.