There was nothing more loathsome than a family supper. At least, to Hilena, it was quite terrible. Her small family was only a family in name and most certainly not in affection. When unfortunate days came when all four of them sat at a table, it never went by peacefully.

Today was very much doomed.

Hilena dismounted her mare Jenny in front of her home, then tied the horse to a weather-beaten post. She drew out her actions to delay her entrance, and her hands trembled as she tied the rope's knots. Oh, hells, let me get this done. Hilena planted a kiss on her mare's nose and strode to her door, swinging it open. Her home was filled with ruddy candlelight and rich with the smell of cooked meat, and she could hear light chatter. Hilena's hand shook against the door handle but removed it to shed her bow and quiver and put them against the wall. Why am I still trembling?

"Sweet sister!" Harwin came out of the kitchen, smiling broadly. I am saved. Hilena's brother brought her into a warm embrace, and she was at ease for a moment. "You will be all right, Lena," Harwin whispered to her, "Father is in good spirits today." As the two stepped apart, Hilena gave her brother an acknowledging smile. He gestured for her to go sit at the table where Hullen already sat, drinking ale. She hesitated.

"Ah, finally, my daughter has arrived!" Hullen called out, "Shame you could not come in time to help with the cooking." Hilena swallowed dryly and approached him, then bowed her head.

"My hunt to provide for the Smoking Log went longer than intended, Father," she explained, standing straight and meeting his eyes, "My apologies; I will cook next time." The older man gave her a disgusted look.

"And 'ow much time did you spend defiling yourself at the alehouse instead of huntin'?"

"Father, be kind," Harwin cut in. Hilena did not feel angry nor offended; she had heard such words a hundred times. She knew Hullen was well aware of her wanton behavior. I am not a whore. He wants to call me one, but it would shame his own person to do so.

"I was there for but a minute, Father," Hilena said eventually. I wish there had been more defilement. She held her tongue. Hullen grumbled to himself and drank his ale heartily.

"Damn it, Sara, where's the food?!" Hullen shouted. Harwin took his seat to the left of his father. Hullen was always at the head of the table, with Sara to his right. Hilena did not sit at the other head but next to her brother, the farthest away. She sat down beside Harwin accordingly. I do not think a chair's distance more out of sight will lessen the sullying of anyone's good name.

Hilena leaned into Harwin and hissed, "Good spirits? You call that good spirits?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "He had been well just before." Hilena sighed and pulled away.

"Here is yer supper, my love!" Sara exclaimed, entering the room with a platter of ham, black sausages, and hard bread. Cheers erupted from Hullen and Harwin, the former pulling in his wife for a hearty kiss. Harwin kissed his stepmother's hand, and Hilena smiled weakly. Seven hells. Sara took her seat, so the family portioned their food and began eating. Thank the gods I eat today. I have that at least.

After some time into the dinner, Hullen spoke, "We must discuss the matter of Lord Stark's naming as Hand of the King. He has asked that Harwin and I go to King's Landing."

"What?" Hilena's eyes flicked between her father and brother, who grew solemn. "How long have you known— I— when you will you leave?" She turned to Harwin, who avoided her eyes. Hilena finally looked at Sara, who continued to eat. Gods, they all knew. I am the last to be told. No, I cannot bear this.

"A fortnight," Harwin answered, "We wished to wait to tell you until we were all together."

"But you told her?" Hilena gestured to Sara, then looked to her father desperately, "Do you care so little for me?" Her heartbeat raced in her chest. No, do not leave me, not Harwin.

"She is my wife, girl," Hullen retorted, "And there was no debate on if you would come with us. You shall not. You will remain, and if the gods are good, you will finally wed." He is mad!

"I most certainly won't!" she spat back, "Damn marriage! I shall die a spinster."

"Yer father is generous to you," Sara interjected, grey-green eyes piercing, "He lets you do all you fancy; at least grant him yer security and grandchildren. Ungrateful wench."

"I will never marry," the girl reiterated, "And since I shall never do so, what am I do in your absences? And why must Sara remain?" The women shared a cold look.

Hullen let out a deep sigh. "Your stepmother cannot travel; it makes her ill. Instead, she will keep our house. You will remain workin' at the stables. I expect the new Lord of Winterfell to appoint Joseth as master of horse to replace me, so you will answer to him."

"New Lord of Winterfell?" Hilena asked. Surely Lord Eddard keeps that position?

"Robb Stark will be your lord once his lord father is gone," Hullen replied. Gods no.

"I am quite finished with my dinner; may I be pardoned?" Hilena said bluntly, standing up without waiting for an answer. Harwin reached out and clasped her hand in his. The girl's eyes pricked with tears, and her stomach ached. Sara glared at her. Damn you, woman. Hullen regarded his daughter with pity.

"Leave us before you embarrass yourself anymore," her father said gravely. It hurt her soul to feel Harwin's fingers loosen and slip off hers. With utmost haste, Hilena went to her bedchamber and made sure to slam the door.

»»----—-—-—-—--- ---—-—-—-—----««

The Winterfell courtyard was all noise and confusion, rife with shouts and the whinnies of horses. Hilena had been ceaselessly saddling, harnessing, and leading horses about under the stern authority of her father. Light snow was falling, causing many to wish to be gone sooner rather than later, including herself. Hilena's feet ached, and her hands burned from the work. Let these southerners be gone already, she thought.

"You don't look happy." Hilena spun around from handing a saddle to some knight. Jon Snow had spoken, and relief washed over the girl. He was in full riding gear, dusted with snow, and wearing a pensive smile. Ghost, ever-present, paced up to Hilena and lay down by her feet. A smile came to her lips for a passing moment.

"How can I be happy when everyone I care about is leaving?" Hilena replied, her tone sarcastic despite the truth of her words. In the days leading to the departure of so many she loved, the girl had felt strangely empty, and it was hard to muster any emotion.

"I'm not happy myself," Jon reassured lightly, "I said my goodbyes to Bran, and well, Lady Stark was... Lady Stark."

"What did she say this time?" The bastard had recounted many of Lady Stark's insulting remarks. The lady's anger towards Jon had its reasons, but Hilena could not properly justify her hatred. Jon may have been evidence of Eddard Stark's infidelity, but that was not Jon's sin. One of many sins committed by Lord Stark.

"More of the same," Jon sighed with a bow of his head, "Cruel, cold words. I am nothing to her." Hilena approached the boy and clasped his shoulders, giving him a light shake.

"You are better than Lady Stark's words," she insisted, "You will be a brother of the Night's Watch. Does a black brother deserve callousness like that? You have the love of your father and your siblings. They see your honor and your heart, something she cannot. I see that as well. You are a good lad, Jon Snow. Not just a bastard, not nothing." The boy gawked at her, his face shocked yet cheerful.

Without a reply, Jon brought Hilena into a fierce hug. "Damn you," he laughed, "Damn you, I'll miss you." She relished the moment, the love of a friend. Why must he go away?

Suddenly, Jon tensed against her and let go of the embrace. Confused, Hilena looked up at him, but he only stared forward. The girl turned around to find what stilled him, and when she did, anger filled her. Robb Stark had been leering at them; she caught his gaze momentarily before he strode away. Gods be good. Does he have nothing better to do?

"I'm sorry," Jon spoke slowly, "I should not have— Gods... just ignore him." I already do; I do everything I can. It is not my fault that we call the same place home. That he will be Lord of Winterfell. She carefully laid a hand against the Snow's chest, ever conscious of how it may appear.

"It is all right," Hilena replied and continued, "Did you speak with Arya? Give her the sword?"

Jon grinned and answered, "She loved it, even gave it a name. Needle."

"A great name for a sword." Hilena smiled back. The two stood in silence, not knowing what to say. He better come back someday. He better. "Don't forget to write when you reach the Wall," was all she could manage.

"Then you must write too," he returned, then after a pause, said, "Goodbye, Hilena."

With one last smile, Jon Snow left with his direwolf sauntering beside him.

Hilena watched as Jon fetched a saddle, strode towards his horse, and saw Robb Stark come to speak to his half-brother. The two spoke, hugged, and parted ways. Neither of them looked over to her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she used a bare hand to wipe the droplets away. She could not bring herself to watch Jon leave and ride to a frozen waste. I'll see him again. I will.

With a deep breath, Hilena moved from where she stood to find her father and brother. Hullen was not far, the stout man giving a few last commands as he prepared his horse. Harwin was by him, in his guard attire, with his horse at his side. Hilena brushed snow off of herself to do anything but think. This is the natural way of living. People go.

"Ah, Hilena!" Harwin shouted when he noticed her approaching, "We've been waitin' for you." He wore a calm smile despite being coated in snow.

"You'll be going soon?" she inquired.

"Aye, we're bringing up the rear of the train," he answered, "It won't be long till we go."

As Hilena reached the pair, her father strolled over and embraced her. Oh? She wrinkled her nose at the hug, hesitantly accepting Hullen's physical affection. Her father stepped back, then brought his doughy hands to cup her face.

"You may be an insolent child," Hullen said, "But you are my daughter. You are Mari's daughter. You must continue to do my work. I know I cannot will you into anything... but think on marriage; think on what you do with yourself here." He always brings up Mother to soften me.

Hilena's words were bland, "Yes, Father." Hullen's brow creased, and he drew away his hands from her face. She almost missed the warmth. Her lips pressed into a firm line.

"Well," Hullen cleared his throat, "Care for the horses, the other stablehands, and your stepmother. No trouble."

"Of course, Father. I will be all right."

Her father smiled weakly at the reply, then patted her on the cheek. Hullen looked over her, something resembling sorrow in his eyes. With a bow of his head, he left her and mounted his steed. He does love me, she thought, and I love him. In a way that could only be produced from being blood. If only the world were less cruel, it would be love for love's sake.

"Lena," In Hilena's periphery, Harwin left his horse's side and approached her. Without a word, he took her into his arms. Her chest heaved, and tears welled in her eyes. How can Father and I be so frigid but with Harwin so fond? Her brother ran his fingers delicately through her hair and laid his head on her own.

"Do not leave me," Hilena demanded, "Gods, Harwin, please do not go. I shall have no one."

"Silence, sister," he soothed, "Do not say such things. Sara—"

"I despise her," Hilena interrupted, "Harwin, don't you see? She will use you and Father's leave to do whatever she wishes with me. I am scared." He shushed her, still stroking her hair. Hilena let her tears flow freely down her cheeks.

"She may try, but you are strong. You are my sister. My Lena has no fear and does not let anything hinder her," Harwin muttered back, clutching her even closer. There was an abyss where Hilena's chest heart had been, and it was all-consuming. More tears rolled down her face. He'll be all right, Hilena told herself. So will Father, so will Jon, so will all the rest. She let go of her brother and stepped away from him. Yes, he will be all right. I will, too.

"Well then, I have no fear if you deem it so," Hilena replied with a slight smile, the taste of salt on her lips, "Do survive the rat's nest that is our capital? Don't let the vermin get you." That made her brother laugh, a deep, hearty laugh full of love.

Hilena held onto it in her mind as she watched her father, brother, Jon Snow, and the rest of the royal host leave. She thought of Jon's smile and jests, her father's words, and Harwin's loving hand. Winterfell is not home without them, she thought woefully, How shall I live?