A Verse of Ice and Fire

Daenerys

 A shudder awoke the girl from her deep slumber. Her violet eyes fluttered open in surprise at the skin piercing cold. Despite living as the Ward of Lord Eddard Stark in Winterfell for the last ten years; Dany knew that she would probably never get used to the harsh cold of the North. The furs wrapped tightly around her body, not doing its job of keeping her warm. With a slight sigh, Dany forced her frozen body from the bed of furs and pelts. The Targaryen stretched, feeling her bones loosen and joints pop, one after another.

 While having been in the North for her entire life of ten years, she had never really felt that she belonged. Even now, with her eleventh nameday being today, she knew that there were many Northmen that didn't like the sight of her. Starting today, marked eleven years of living in the North, under the watchful gaze of the Starks. Dany was still surprised that some could even manage to see her as a psychopath. Their gazes were unfaltering at times and it unnerved her.

 To think that people would hate her for crimes she had no part of, made her wonder of a lot of things. Even now, she could see some men-at-arms glaring at her window from the courtyard of Winterfell. How insulting to not only her, but to House Stark as well. Dany, despite how many times she wanted to say something, she knew that it wouldn't make a difference; people were going to hate her no matter what she did to change their minds.

 She felt the corners of her lips twitch, her violet eyes curled towards the three boys fighting each other with practice swords. One had auburn hair in small curls that flittered around in a messy mop; another had long black hair that fell down past his ears, and the last was the tallest of the three with a head of messy, light brown hair. At their side, keeping at them with a watchful gaze stood Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms of Winterfell.

 Suddenly, the heavy oaken door creaked from behind. She snapped from her muse and faced her intruder. Fear quickly expunged leaving nothing but a smirk growing into a full smile.

 "Lady Stark." Dany smiled softly, her silvery locks falling to cover her face.

 The Targaryen curtsied, but was quickly waved off by the woman. Catelyn Tully was beautiful with burning auburn locks like the boy below. Dany walked towards the woman only to be embraced in a tight hug.

 "I would have awoken you, but it appears that Jon and Robb insisted that I let you sleep in." Catelyn smiled.

 "Why would they do that?" Daenerys asked with a feigned look of surprise. They actually convinced her!

 "They were vague about it." Cat laughed. "It's your eleventh nameday young lady! I'll have to get you a dress and get you ready for your nameday feast."

 "But, what if I don't want a feast?" Dany asked with a raised eyebrow.

 "Now, now, Dany." Cat gave her a motherly look. "All lady's and lords must have a nameday feast."

 Dany sighed in defeat running a hand through the silver locks of hair all the while, letting out a soft sigh. She wasn't in the mood for a party, or a feast, or any celebration of that manner. A good day, no matter the occasion, was well spent reading in the godswood; to her at least. Reading was calming, and soothing, and better yet, no one could see her. She wouldn't have to deal with their sneers and their weary expressions. Oh how she'd wished things were better.

 Without a moment lost, she inevitably found herself sitting on a stool as Catelyn braided her hair, slowly pulling the silver locks together into an intricate pattern. It was interesting to watch as the slightest movement in her hair, would bring about a large change to her appearance. The Stark was delicate with the Targaryen, making sure not to cause pain to her scalp. In the end, finishing her curls and braids. Daenerys sighed softly when the torture was over.