Hera's family was murdered in cold blood by their enemies. Hera got away and went to Winterfell, where the Starks lived. She knew she would be safe there, because Ned Stark and her father were close friends. Now, years later, she still live there...
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CHAPTER ONE - THE DESERTER
Hera sat in her chair inside her chamber at Winterfell. The chair was made of wood, formed into a beautiful structure. The chamber was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the window. It was a pretty golden light outside, and it was still early in the day.
Hera's emerald eyes moved away from the small window, till the brush laying in front of her at her vanity. Her hand wrapped itself around the tiny handle of the brush, and she lifted it up to her hair. She softly led it through her straight chestnut hair. Brushing her hair brought a feeling of calmness over Hera's body. She didn't know how to describe it. It was like she was in her own little world, like nothing could hurt her.
When she had no more tangles left, it was time to braid her locks. She almost always wore the same hairstyle. She made it because it was easy to do and it removed her hair from her face. When she was outside all day, she often got annoyed when her hair was in the way. That's why it was so nice to braid it away. Today was no exception, and her hair ended up with three different braids pulling her hair back, while the rest of it hung down her back.
She was supposed to be in sewing lessions today with Arya and Sansa. Sewing had never been her thing. She preferred to fight with the boys and get a bit dirty. She knew that Robb and Jon would be teaching Bran how to use a bow today. He had tried using a bow before, but he always missed the target. Hera decided that she would join them. It wasn't like she would get in trouble for not sewing with the girls. Lord Stark knew that Hera preferred being with the boys, which is why he often let her do what she wanted.
When Hera got outside in the courtyard, she instantly spotted the boys. Robb and Jon stood beside Bran looking intimidating, while little Rickon was watching them from atop of a saddle. It was at times like these that she felt the hole in her heart hurt. When she looked at how happy the Starks were together, it reminded her of her own family. She missed them all terribly.
She often caught herself thinking about how her life would have been if her family had still been alive? Would she have lived at home, or maybe she would have been married? Would her brothers and sister have gotten married? Maybe they would have had children? It had been four years since her life was changed forever, and Hera was now eighteen years of age. Lord and lady Stark had been so kind to take her in to their home all those years ago. She was treated like family by them and their children.
She clenched her jaw when she realised she had been in her own world again. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of every negative thought. Instead, she tried to focus on everything around her. The chilling air licked at her skin, causing goosebumps to appear. It was getting colder by each day, one step closer to winter. The sky was baby blue, without a single cloud on its surface.
Hera decided to make herself known to the boys by walking over to them. She watched as their eyes focused on her face, and she watched as Bran's eyes lit up, causing her heart to warm.
