The Lost Dragon | Game of Thrones

Chapter One.

Arya Stark ran through the godswood of Winterfell, trying with all her might to catch up to the young woman trailing ahead of her. She would watch safely from a distance before running behind the brown oak, only to hide behind another one. "I know you are there Arya" A soft voice, like velvet called out to the young girl of nine. 

Arya groaned. She should have known better, Violet had the hearing of a wolf and always knew when the young-ling was following her. Arya stepped out from behind the wood slowly, making her way closer to the silver haired beauty.

Arya would never tell anyone, but she admired the bastard in the north. The way she could walk silently over piles of leaves, never once hearing the crackle of a footstep. The way she never needed to aim her longbow, always making her target barely using the sight of her eye. And the way she moved effortlessly around the training grounds with Arya's older brothers, the long-swords helm moving flawlessly through her fingertips. 

Violet was who Arya wanted to be growing up, she always was. Arya grew a fondness, an attachment to the lost girl since she was younger. Even growing up a high born, Arya always felt more at home with the bastards including her older brother Jon Snow. But Arya seeing a young woman walk around with weapons, never once having to check with her mother or take lessons from a Septa left a longing inside of her.

Arya hated sewing useless dolls with her sister Sansa, she hated being told she needed to wear frilly gowns made of the finest silk. No. She wanted to fight with her brothers ,and get dirty and climb towers with her brother Bran. That was what she wanted, and she found that in Violet. The sweet lost girl who somehow ended up in Winterfell seventeen years ago. 

~

Violet smiled down at the youngest Stark daughter, who already ruined another dress tracking her through the dirt. Violet reached out and ruffled some of her hair before placing her free hand around the young girl's shoulders and walking back in the direction of the castle. Violet knew Catelyn Stark would have a tiffy if she saw Arya covered in mud, already probably missed another lesson with her Septa.

"Arya, your mother wont like this" Violet said softly as she directed the girl against her will. Violet never minded when Arya followed her when she went off on a hunt. She just always knew how the Lady Stark would react. Somehow Violet became very close with Lord Eddard Stark over the years, growing a certain attachment to the household of the North. He was like a father to her, the boys like her brothers. And although young Sansa was nothing like Arya, she still found herself caring about the girl with hair kissed by fire.

But Lady Stark was a different story. Catelyn never did understand everyone's love for the young silver haired girl. Something had always felt off with her, and for that Catelyn never trusted her. She treated her with the same disdain that she treated Eddards bastard son. And even though Violet knew of the woman's hesitation to her, she never once spoke ill will of the woman.

"I hate the Septa. I hate Sansa. I hate dresses, I hate it all!" Arya cried out burying her face into Violet's forever warm side. Violet was always known to be the one person in Winterfell to never need fur coverings. She ran around with her arms and part of her abdomen exposed most of the time, she gave off her own type of heat, one she was most grateful for in the cold nights in the north.

Violet chuckled before answering Arya. "Why not tell me something you do not hate child?" Violet asked, squeezing Arya's shoulders in her hand. Arya grinned up at her before punching Violet in the arm, something she grew quite used to from the youngest Stark girl. "I don't hate you!" Arya called out before running ahead of Violet, out of the entrance of the Godswood.

"That is good to hear. For if you did, I suspect you would be hunting me instead of with me" Violet responded having caught up with Arya very quickly. Violet swung her bow onto her back with her sheath of freshly carved arrows. She had been hoping to test out the arrows she spent hours the night before widdeling down, on a rabbit or a boar. But bringing Arya back safely was of more importance. 

"Arya! Where have you been child!" Maester Luwin's soft voice echoed out while he walked quickly up to the girls. Maester Luwin smiled gently at Violet before giving Arya a knowing look full of disappointment. But even behind the old Maester's pointed look, Violet could see the ghost of a smile. The Maester had a special place in his heart for all the Stark children, and could never stay too mad at the girl.

"She was safe with me" Violet told the Measter, covering for the young girl. She always would. Any heat Violet took from Lady Stark was worth the smile she saw on Arya's face when she let her shoot her bow at a homemade target deep into the woods of Winterfell. "Your mother and father have been looking for you child, now go on it's almost supper" Maester Luwin told the girl. Arya groaned before punching Violet once more on the arm and running for the castle. 

Violet smiled at the Measter before finding herself wandering back into the training grounds, the place she spent most of her time. She placed her beloved longbow against the fencing, and her sheath beside it. She gripped the long swords helm gently with her fingertips, before extracting the long steel beast. Beast. The name of her sword, Lord Stark told her once that all the great ones had names. She always remembered even though she was seven at the time.

The sword wasn't the fanciest blade in the seven kingdoms, but with her tender care over the years it certainly got the job done. Most swords were straight as an arrow, but Violet's was crooked around the edges. It curved around a bend instead of staying on the straight and narrow like the king's road. Even with all it's flaws though, Violet still loved the beast. Much like her it was rough around the edges and not of the normal.

She held the handle that was worn in from years of practice, and twirled it effortlessly through her fingers. She smirked at the practice dummy made of straw, before hitting the head upwards and rolling forward through the dirt to the back. And had this been an actual human, they would have been caught off guard by her quick movement. She was the only woman known around these parts to actually wield a sword, and while that seemed off putting to some people, to Violet that was all she knew.

She loved the feeling of a sword in her hand, she loved the sound of metal on metal. Steel on Steel. The feel of releasing that first arrow of the day and sinking it dead center of her target. So she understood why Arya so desperately wanted to be like her, she understood why Knights killed to be called Ser and spend a lifetime of this. 

She knew she would never be a lady of Winterfell. She would never marry a fancy Lord and bear his children. Bastards like her were all known to become whores, and the men left for the wall to become men of the nights watch. But not her, she was perfectly fine spending her days with a sword in her hand. Basking in the glory of watching her enemy fall to the ground. 

"Fancy footwork you have there" A familiar voice called out to Violet who was still moving like a Braavosi water dancer through the practise ring. She turned with the sword still in her hands to see Jon Snow standing behind her with his own.  She smiled at her friend before taking a step forward and blocking a hit from his broadsword. 

"Better than you" Violet said before swiftly spinning around Jon Snow and grasping a handful of his hair in her hand, her sword at his throat. 

"Had you been an enemy Jon, You would be dead" Violet said in his ear, earning a chuckle from the raven haired boy. She ruffled his hair and sheathed her sword before kissing her best friend on the cheek. "You've grown slow Jon" Violet said with a smile as she picked up her bow and arrows she abandoned on the side of a fence. 

~

"Maybe you just grew quicker" Jon responded, leaning against the fence to admire the silver haired beauty. The young woman was so much different than the other girls in Winterfell, she dressed similar to the boys he grew up with. Choosing to wear long pants with boots and a short top that exposed a lot of skin for the north.  

She was the only woman he ever saw to pick up a sword and actually know what to do with it. He remembered the first day she entered that very practise ring, and had most of the other six year old's on their asses. Arya reminded him so much of Violet at her age. Violet never cared what people said or thought about her, and Jon admired that about her. Jon loved her. But he knew two bastards would never be anything together with the name of Snow.

But Jon always felt there was something else Violet had going for her, he felt she was destined to do more. She was not only the most talented woman in Winterfell, but also the most beautiful. She was the only woman in Winterfell with golden hair, and those enticing eyes the color of her name. He knew she was destined for greatness the moment he saw the girl sink ten arrows center mass under a minute. And as long as she knew of her potential in life, Jon was content.