2 News from a Raven

Derren:

Donning my boots and a new leather tunic, I reach out for my sword next to Rain on the bed. He's grown accustomed to sleeping on it beside me every night. Not that I mind, the North is colder and getting colder still. His thick fur is a welcomed companion when sleeping.

It's been a little over three weeks since we found the wolf pups and I already can't imagine life without them running around castle all day. Though I say that, it's only really the direwolves other than Rain and Ghost.

Ghost is a peculiar one. Always watching from a distance away, seldom coming close. That is unless he's called by Jon, in which case he delightfully comes running. Rain on the other hand is the opposite. Never leaving my side, staying as close to me as possible. It's endearing but I often have to tell him to go play with the other pups, as he's still a growing wolf and needs to expend some of that endless energy they no doubt have.

Looking at the sword now in hand, I can't help but admire it. Father had it made for me a week after the execution. Said he had been meaning to have a new one forged for me and Jon for awhile and with the finding of the wolves, it seemed like the perfect time.

The longsword was forged by the best blacksmith in Winterfell and was ten and a half inches long and on the heavier side making it a bit difficult for me to wield efficiently, since I'm only fourteen and far from fully grown. The handle was black with a wolf head on the pommel. Jon was given an almost identical sword as well however; his pommel was white instead of my grey one. To us, the wolf was validation that we were also sons of Ned Stark. That while we didn't have the name, we still had his blood.

Deciding its time to join the others who are in the training yard, I sheath the sword, stand up and look to my bed for Rain. He's not there I notice. I turn to the door and see him already there ready to go. My lips curl into a small grin, "Didn't hear you move boy."

I walk to the door and open it wide letting him and myself out. Every so often I find that the direwolf seems to know what I want before I have to say anything and its been happening more and more often since our first encounter. I can feel the bond between us growing stronger each and every day.

Peering down, I meet the pale eyes of the young black wolf that's already starting to near the size of a fully-grown dog, I smile, "Well, let's go boy."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I arrive at the courtyard we've been training in our whole lives, I find Jon talking to our troublemaking younger sister, Arya. "Aren't you supposed to be supposed to be in your morning sowing lesson with Sansa and Septa Mordane Arya?" I call with a knowing smirk, making my presence known to the two.

"But it's so boring Derren!" she grunts back a bit childishly, "I'd rather be learning to fight out here with you guys."

"Aye, I'm sure you would. But you don't want to get in trouble with Lady Stark again do you?" I say to her.

"You know that's not going to make her go back right?" says my brother with a raised brow.

"I know, the little wolf almost never listens to me," I laugh and give her a playful glare which she returns. "Good morning by the way."

Jon just nods his head a little, but Arya grins, before running up my way so she could jump and hug me, "Morning Derren," she says.

Returning the gesture and giving her playful squeeze, I place Arya down and speak to Jon. "You already warmed up brother?"

Quickly realising what I'm about to say next he replies with a small smirk, "I am. You?"

"I'm ready enough," I say with my signature grin, "Want to spar?"

"Only if you're okay with losing again." Jon smirks. The two of us have an almost even record against each other with him being one win up due to the last time we sparred when I got distracted and he took advantage of my lack of focus and managed to sweep my legs and trip me up. He's been rubbing it in ever since and is past due for an ass kicking.

"I won't be the one losing today brother!" I tell him, my eyes narrowing slightly. Unsheathing my longsword, I ready my stance and stare at Jon who's doing the same. I can see our sister's eyes glow up in excitement as she waits for us to start.

My eyes meet Jon's. His dark grey iris's making contact with my lighter grey. "Ready?" I question.

He nods and moves towards me steadily. Breathing out calmly, I gather my focus and then start moving in myself. Once a little over two metres away, he steps in, swinging his downwards aiming for my left. Quickly re-positioning myself by stepping my left foot back, my own sword moves to knock his away. I push off the ground with my left, jumping towards him with force whilst simultaneously taking my right arm of my two-handed sword and using it to make contact and shove his chest, knocking him away. Jon stumbles backwards and I'm not going to waste this opportunity to finish this quickly; just as I had been taught. I send a roundhouse kick to his sword hand, sending the weapon flying.

"Told you I wasn't going to lose, didn't I?" I said as while pointing my sword at him.

Jon looks at me a bit irritated at the proud look plastered on my face, "You got lucky, that's all." He gives me a challenging smile, "Think you can win again?"

"We'll see!"

He goes to pick up his previously dropped longsword and when it's within his grasp again, he turns to face me once more. Both of us ready to go again, we grin at one another.

However, before we can start we're interrupted by someone. "That was a good fight boy's," it's father. He's standing on the walkway above us, looking strong and impressive. I notice that Robb is there standing behind him, staying close as he often did nowadays. Recently father had decided it was time Robb experience first-hand the duties of the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, so as to prepare him for day the title would be his. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to hold off on your rematch for now," he continues.

Arya is the first to respond, "Aww, how come?" she asks disappointedly.

"Sorry little wolf," he says, "I have need of you all in the Hall. Come Quickly."

"Yes father," Jon and I say at the same time, to which father nods his heads to us before turning and walking towards the hall himself.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later.

Jon, Arya and I enter the great Hall where the rest of the Stark's are already waiting for us.

"Arya! What have I been telling you about running away from your lessons!" reprimands Catelyn Stark, causing the girl to shrink back behind Jon.

"That can be discussed at a later time dear," our father states, temporarily saving Arya from her deserved scolding. The lady nods and beckons the troublemaker to her side, next to Bran, Rickon and Sansa, not once acknowledging myself or Jon, an action that is unfortunately copied by our red-headed sister, Sansa.

"What's the occasion for this gathering father? Dinner still has a while to come." Robb asks.

"Right. I'll say it simply then. We've just received word from King's Landing," father starts, "King Robert is riding to Winterfell as we speak."