Chapter 17 Faervedess

It was another day in the heart of the North. The servants went about with their duties and tasks. The guards patrolled the battlements and halls of the great keep of Winterfell. And the sound of wood striking wood resounded throughout the courtyard. 

 At the center of the yard were two figures sparring with wooden swords. One was an adolescent boy nearing manhood. His hair was a scraggly brown hair, with grey eyes and a long face. The hair on his chin had only started to fill in. 

He wore a brown tunic, with a black jerkin over it. He wore riding Breeches. 

The boy was sweating profusely as he swung again and again at his opponent, but as he tried to land a hit against his adversary, they blocked it with a quick and fluid parry. 

The boy's opponent unlike him seemed like they had only been playing around instead of struggling against their opponent. 

The boy's opponent was a woman with milky white hair, mixed with a slight coloring of black as dark as the night. Her eyes shined with a crimson red and held a hint of mischief in them as she swatted away the boy's swings. 

With one arm she swung her sword against the boy finally retaliating against him instead of simply staying on the defensive. 

As she struck the boy's sword it flew out of his hand sailing straight over his head. 

The boy watched as his sword flew over him, only now looking down to find the practice sword pointed right at his neck. 

"Well done, you lasted a few minutes more than last time." The woman complimented "But you can always do better Bran. But for now, I need a break." The woman started to stretch her arms above her head as she groaned in satisfaction. 

"You need a break!" Bran exclaimed with a questioning tone full of exasperation. "You aren't even tired, you were toying with me Fae, I want to keep going and I'm exhausted."

"Alright, enough, the both of you. You did well Bran, you as well lady Faervedess."

A man approached the battling duo, he was a man well into his prime, his chin was clean-shaven, with slicked brown hair down to his neck. In his hand, he held onto a great staff with double blades of steel, specially forged by Melkor himself. But his weapon was not the most prominent thing about the man. In place of his eyes, there were Ice Blue Sapphires in his sockets.

"But I can keep fighting Symeon. I need all the practice I can get if I'm to beat Fae one day." Bran even in his exhausted state wished to continue his spar against Fae. 

"Enough Bran, as the master of arms of Winterfell I'm ordering you to get some rest." 

Bran's vigor and energy finally drained from him as the adrenaline faded and exhaustion set in. "I, understand Symeon." 

"Well since you're finally done, I'm going to bathe in the hot springs, see you later Bran." Fae waved to Bran as she walked off without a care in the world. 

As Bran watched Fae walk away Bran held a glint in his eyes that even the blind Symeon could see. 

The master of arms hit Bran over the head getting an "Hey" in return.

"Stop staring, it's unbecoming of the heir to the North."

"I wasn't staring. I was... Bran couldn't come up with an excuse as his silence proved his crime. 

Symeon laughed as Bran trailed off. "Remember who she is young Bran, she may look to be your age, but her soul holds the experience of a hundred years of winter and death."

"How can I forget, her family scares me whenever I see them." 

"It's only natural to fear them. Most can't even stand near them without shitting themselves. But you are more like them than me. Like Faervedess the blood of gods runs through your veins. You both will live longer, fight better, and grow stronger. And that's why her parents like you." 

"More like hate me, every time I'm around her father, he bores his eyes into my very soul, it's like he's preparing to strike me down." 

"That's because he's testing you. I would only want the best for my child, and you are the only one who could live long enough to make her happy." 

Bran sighed at Symeon's comment. "I just don't know how to go about it. I'm nineteen Name days old, And Fae... She's a hundred name days old. Would it not be, I don't know, odd for me to marry someone many times older than me." 

"Do not think of it like that. Many men across the land marry women older or younger than themselves. But Lady Fae is still mentally around your age." 

Bran finished putting away his sparring gear and started making his way out of the yard. 

"Enough of this talk Symeon, I have an empty belly and wish it to be full before I turn in for the day. Come, to the great hall."

Symeon chuckled as Bran headed towards the great hall. "Of course, my lord."

.....

In the god's words of Winterfell grew a great Weirwood. Its face only just carved upon the tree. Below the growing tree sat a Spring of water that heated the great forest within Winterfell. 

In the spring sat a beautiful young woman whose beauty betrayed her age. 

Faervedess relaxed in the pool of hot water as she let all her troubles leave her.

She sighed as she looked up into the all-encompassing canopy of red leaves of the Weirwood. 

"So this is where you wandered off to." A familiar voice jolted Fae from her daydreaming. 

"Mother?" 

Fae's mother stood across the small spring watching Fae with a smirk and a hand on her hip. 

"I watched your little spar with Bran, do go easier on him dear, some men of these lands don't like it when they're bested by the fairer sex." 

Aina began to undress as she talked with her daughter. 

"You were watching? I thought you were back home?"

Aina scoffed as she lowered herself into the spring. "And be stuck there with Beorn while your father and you were away. No, I would rather spend time with my family."

"Don't put Beorn off like that, he did save my life." 

Aina sighed, "It's not that I don't like Beorn, I would rather just have a place we as a family can call home that we built Built with our own hands instead of freeloading off of Beorn."

"I guess I understand. It's just to me it's the only home I've ever known, and leaving that home would be leaving a part of me with it." 

"Oh, don't you worry dear. If we find someplace new to call home we can always come back and visit. But that's not any time soon. And that's not why I'm here." '

Fae perked up at her mother's mysterious antics. "Oh, and why did you come all this way to Winterfell, if not just to bathe with your beloved daughter," Fae questioned her mother with mischief in her voice.

Aina smirked at her daughter, ready to break her daughter's mischievous mood. "I've come to see who caught my daughter's eye."

Fae's face lit up like a tomato. She tried to hide herself in the water, but it only showed her guilt. 

Aina laughed at her daughter's antics as Fae sunk into the water. 

"There's no need to be embarrassed Fae. I've seen how you act around the heir to Winterfell. He's a good match. Your father and I approve if you wish to pursue your feelings."

Fae's entire body was submerged up to her nose, just enough to give her air to breathe. She rose just enough to be coherent. "I'm not worried about approval. I'm worried about Bran himself. He may have the blood of a god within him, but he still will eventually grow weak and old, and I'll only just have grown into my prime." 

In a pleading tone, Aina wished for the best for her daughter "Fae, you can't think about the bad of what's to come but the good."

Annoyed Fae shot up out of the hot springs. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." 

Aina sighed as her daughter began to dress herself. "I'm sorry dear. Just know I want the best for you." 

Fae glanced over as she was pulling up her breeches and mumbled. "Thanks, Mom." 

The goddess that sat in the warming spring smirked as she heard her daughter. "Love you too dear."

"By the way me and Bran are gonna go riding through the woods."

"Do be safe dear."

..... 

The halls of Winterfell were calm and quiet as a pair of men sat across from each other as they ate in peace. 

One man had Sapphires for eyes and the other man was an elderly grizzled man with a long white beard and well-trimmed greying hair. 

 They sat below the high table of Winterfell. a servant or two would sometimes enter the hall to eat their fill, but the silence was never broken. 

The two men were greatly respected among those who served under the Stark family. Many who served the family knew the duo were kind to those who showed them that kindness back, and that kindness was allowing them their few moments of peace when they ate their supper. 

 Unexpectedly the doors to the hall were slammed open startling everyone inside but the pair of men breaking the respectful silence the duo enjoyed. 

The grizzled man didn't move from his seat but did put his food down and gripped his sword that was fastened to his waist. 

"I swear whoever that is I'm going to run them through."

The man with sapphires for eyes never looked up as he continued with his meal. "Calm yourself Oskar, take a look at who it is." 

The now-identified Oskar looked to the door and realized how terrible his plan would be should he try to kill whoever had interrupted his meal.

"Lady Aina!"

There in the doorway clothed in an elegant black dress. 

"So this is where you went Symeon." 

Symeon stood from his meal and kneeled before Aina.

"Your grace, are you in need of my service?"

Oskar kneeled alongside Symeon, trembling hoping his queen hadn't heard what he had said when his meal was interrupted.

"Nothing pressing, I just wished to talk to someone I could trust about the goings of the realm outside these walls. Oh, and you two can finish your meal." 

The pair returned to their table but did not return to eating, knowing they were to speak, and did not wish to have their mouths full as they spoke.

"Tell me Symeon, what does Bran think of my daughter, and don't lie to me I'll know."

"Of course my lady. Young Bran is, how should I say it... infatuated with Lady Faervedess. But he fears he can not give her the life she wishes with his shorter lifespan compared to hers."

Aina hummed knowingly. "They're made for each other. They fear the same thing. They do not wish to be together for they fear breaking one another's heart because of their lineage." 

"If I may ask my lady, what does his grace think of the potential union?" The grizzled man who had unknowingly threatened Aina asked.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but aren't You the son of Mathias Cassel if I remember correctly."

The grizzled man bowed his head towards the goddess. "Oskar Cassel, Mathias was my father, he was one of the greatest fighters I've ever seen my lady."

"Tell me Oskar, what news have you heard beyond these walls of the realm?"

"The realm is great in size my lady, I have heard little outside these walls. But to the farther north many houses sworn to house Stark have gone silent or missing."

Aina was confused. "What do you mean missing?" Aina cracked a chuckle. "How does one lose track of their vassals?"

Symeon interrupted Oskar before he could answer. "The elder of Winterfell can not contact those of the deep north. The castellan of Winterfell has taken three hundred men with him to Lasthearth to speak with Lord Umber to see if they know anything."

Aina looked concerned as she slowly started to understand what this could mean. An unknown force to the far North may have attacked vassals of the Starks, and they had no idea how or why. 

"And the giant king Jormun?"

The children have tried to contact him through the Weirwood, but we've had no reply."

"And how long ago had the Castellan left to last Hearth?" 

Symeon grimaced. "Five moons ago. We've already sent riders to inform lord Stark and his Grace but that was only a moon ago, and we don't even know where they are."

"Aina shot up. "Fae!"

Symeon's sockets widened. "Bran and her went riding north."

Oskar was already down the hall gathering the guards yelling to them to ready their horses.

Like a great roar of thunder, Aina had disappeared from the halls, calling to Beorn and calling to her husband.

.....   

A pair of horses were tied to a branch as they dipped their heads into a nearby river resting from their long exhausting ride. 

Off under a tree a few meters away a couple tumbled together in the leaves.  

"Stop it, Bran. I...Cant...Breathe." 

Faervedess laughed and giggled as Bran tickled her in the leaves. 

Bran stopped as he noticed something "Geeze Bran, I could have died. you don't just tickle a girl out of the blue." 

Bran didn't respond as he stared off into the sky. 

"Hello, are you even paying attention, Bran?"

Bran pointed up, "Look." 

Fae looked up but couldn't see anything. "What are we looking at, the sky?"

Bran still didn't answer her. 

Fae groaned "I give up Bran, what am I supposed to be looking at, a flying pig?"

"Fae, it's snowing."

Fae looked up again, finally noticing the little specks of snow falling.

"Would you look at that, I guess it's a miracle. Maybe if it snows enough we can have a snowball fight." 

Bran looked to Fae, all the joy and ease gone from his face, replaced with an Ice demeanor. 

"Fae, it's snowing, and it's summer. Winter wasn't supposed to be for another five years"

"Fae looked at Bran with worry in her eyes, "What does that mean Bran?"

Brandon looked into Fae's blood red eyes, "Winter is coming, and death follows."