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Aneira sat on the other side of Bran as Maester Luwin questioned him about the mottos of each noble house of Westeros. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as Theon puffed out his chest and explained how fantastic the archery skills of House Greyjoy were. She watched him hit the target, and while she would never admit it out loud - Theon was fairly blessed in all things related to war or fighting. His frame was not as large as others, but that was how he tricked people into thinking he was not as powerful as he secretly was.

Aneira wanted that to be the case for her. She wanted to continue training with the boys, knowing that there was unrest scattered through the seven kingdoms. After finding out of the Targaryens building an army of the Dothraki across the narrow sea, Aneira knew Robert would not rest. With her studies, she learned horrible things that had been done to the family that had sat on the iron throne for centuries. A part of her understood why the girl wanted to take what was her birthright.

"Here We Stand." Maester Luwin glanced up at Aneira before quickly turning his attention back to Bran.

Before the young boy could respond, Aneira did so for him. "House Mormont. They reside on Bear Island. I've heard it is quite beautiful there."

"And their sigil is a black bear." Bran added with a nod.

"Yes, both of you are correct." Maester Luwin smiled warmly before attempting to move onto his next subject.

"Annie, you are of House Glover." Theon spoke up, eavesdropping on the lesson. "Though you wear the direwolf of a Stark. Why is that?"

"I will always rule my life with an iron fist." Aneira stated calmly, lifting the necklace from its hiding spot within her bosom. "I am proud to hail from Deepwood Motte, Bran. But I also pride myself on being a Stark by choice." She pat the back of his hand gently before she stood up to leave.

"Annie?" Bran spoke up, catching her just before she could leave.

"Yes?" She turned slightly, leaning on the edge of the table as she watched him. She could sense that he was still deciding on actually saying what he had been thinking.

"Do you think you will ever find out who your father is?"

Aneira smiled, knowing Bran meant no harm.

"I'm sure one day I will."

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"Are you going to tell him?" Theon spoke up from beside Robb as they watched Bran try out his new saddle.

Aneira was standing further away, clapping her hands together happily as she witnessed the pure joy on the younger boys face. She had been beside herself with worry that this saddle would not work - she was pleasantly surprised when Bran got onto the horse and felt as though he was on top of the world.

She could only hear bits and pieces of what they were discussing, though, but she knew it was something that would make Bran feel panicked, so she was glad when she heard Robb tell Theon that he would not tell Bran yet. She knew it could only be about Jory and the rest of the Winterfell guards being slaughtered and his father being left injured on the streets outside of a brothel.

She could feel a stabbing pang of hurt in her chest. Jory had been somewhat of a second father to her here in Winterfell. Aside from the fact that she thought he was handsome and kind, that was besides the point. Shaking her head to rid herself of the sadness, Aneira glanced back at Robb. She met his gaze and offered him a smile before she brought her attention back to Bran.

"I do not think I have ever seen you smile this much since before the King came to Winterfell!" She called out to him, a laugh escaped her lips as he continued galloping around in circles with his mouth spread wide in a smile.

"Wait!" She realized he had not completed the usual circle, having gone through the trees and not returned. She didn't wait to call for Robb and lifted her skirts to get a better grip with her boots on the forrest floor. "Bran?" She called, making her way through the line of trees she had seen him ride past. "Wait for me!" She tried to shout louder, feeling slightly annoyed that he had rode off like this. She feared the fact that if he had fallen from the horse, he would be lying on the ground and could possibly get trampled on.

As she spotted the swishing tail of his horse, Aneira quickly made her way through the trees and caught up with Bran. "You can't sneak away like that, do you hear me?"

Bran nodded. Both of them oblivious to the unknown assailants in the brush until Aneira heard a branch snapping beneath the weight of another person. She turned around as Bran called out for his brother. A gasp escaped her mouth as she came face to face with a wildling woman, dirt smeared across her face and an extremely ripe smell wafting from her open mouth.

"Bran!" She reached to grab a hold of the reins but the woman beat her to it.

"All alone in the deep, dark woods." Her voice was soft and it sent chills down Aneira's spine as she spotted a much larger man coming up behind her.

"We're not alone." Aneira told her, her hand going to rest of Bran's leg, wanting to remain as close to him as possible.

"My brother is with us." Bran added, though as brave as he tried to be, was terrified. If he had use of his legs he would have felt better being able to run away, with the right opportunity, but now he was completely trapped.

"That's a pretty pin!" The woman beamed, watching Bran cover the pin up with one hand, steadying himself in the saddle with the other.

"We'll take the pin. And the horse. Get down." The man gruffly spat, his dirty hand rubbing the horses neck.

Aneira moved to push the third man away as he grabbed at Bran's cloak, now putting the contraption his legs were in on full display. The man shoved Aneira back, which made her tumble slightly into the horse.

"What's wrong with ya?" He asked, staring at the metal hinges encasing the boys legs.

The bigger man chuckled, "you some kind of cripple?"

"I am Brandon Stark of Winterfell and if you don't let us go, I'll have you all killed." Bran snapped at his possible captors.

Aneira looked shockingly up at Bran, feeling slightly proud at his bravery. But when the man unsheathed a dagger, she gasped. She wanted to fight him off but the third man had grabbed her hair, weaving his dirty fingers through her curls as he yanked her back toward him. "We can cut off his little cock and stuff it in his mouth. And then have our way with her. She looks like she has pretty tits and a tight cunt."

"He's Benjen Stark's own blood!" The woman spoke, staring at both of her companions. "Think of what Mance would give us!"

"Piss on Mance Rayder, and piss on the North!" The man spat, grinning back at Aneira as he tightened his grip on her hair. The sharp pain that now radiated across her scalp caused her to let out a cry. She was unable to pry herself away from him and hated this feeling of helplessness.

"Drop the knife!"

The man who had been holding her turned at the intrusion. It was only when she realized Robb had come to their rescue that there was a fourth Wildling. She was feeling completely unprepared, not having brought any kind of weapon of her own. She was unsure of what Robb's next move would be and when the man shoved her, hard, down into the ground and charged at the acting Lord of Winterfell, all she could think about was getting Bran out of there alive.

She stayed low to the ground, eyes darting between the Wildling behind her and to Robb as he engaged in sword fight with the man who had just been holding onto her, threatening to rape her. Before she could push herself up, Robb had slit the man's throat, earning a gasp from her mouth.

She was able to push herself up, turning as the woman passed her by to rush an attack on Robb. She couldn't worry herself with worrying about Robb, and before she knew it she rushed forward with all of her strength and tried shoving at the bigger man to get him away from Bran. Although his belly was extremely round, he had strength and was able to kick Aneira in the stomach to get her away from him. By the time she stood up again, he had gotten Bran off the saddle and he was at a standstill with Robb. His dagger was placed by Bran's neck and Aneira looked around for anything she could use as a weapon.

As she turned to the left of her, she spotted Theon kneeling behind a tree. His finger pressed against his lips to signal her to not give his position away. As she turned to look back at Robb the moment he dropped his sword, Theon released his arrow, hitting the man directly in his heart. Aneira rushed forward to get Bran, ignoring the pain that radiated in her stomach and her head. She pulled Bran up to sit against her, her arms protectively wrapped around him as Robb walked over.

"Are you both alright?" He inspected the wound on Bran's thigh, already concluding that it was not too deep and would heal just fine with the proper aftercare. He then turned to Aneira, gently brushing his thumb across her cheek as she smiled weakly at him to show she was not hurt.

"Yes." They had both replied in unison. Aneira allowed for Robb to take the young boy from her arms as she stayed in the kneeling position to collect her bearings. She brought her attention to Theon as he surrounded the wildling woman.

"In the Iron Islands, you're not a real man until you've had you're first kill. Well done." Theon smirked, his bow cocked back with the arrow pointed straight at the wildlings face.

"Are you mad?" Robb hissed, holding his brother in his arms before he looked down at the dead men at their feet. "What if you had missed?"

"He would have killed you and cut Bran's throat." Theon fought back, shocked that Robb was complaining.

Aneira was standing now, her hands reached forward to hold onto Robb's elbow. She needed to show him that she was with him, his anger at Theon and fear for his brothers life rolled into one big emotion and she knew he would need to decompress from having killed for the very first time.

"What about her?" His voice came out low, void of emotion as he stared at the wildling woman.

"Give me my life, milord, and I'm yours." She begged, hands clasped together as she bowed her head.

"We'll keep her alive." Robb decided, glancing down at Bran who nodded in agreement.

Aneira frowned, just as Theon did, but walked away with Robb in silence. She did not have a say in any official matters, and just as she had been trained by Septa Mordane, she kept her mouth shut.

Later that night, Aneira found herself lingering by the doorway of Robb's room. The door was open, and he was seated by the fire with his head hanging low in his hands.

"You shouldn't be alone, Robb." Her voice cut through the silence, which in turn caused him to spin around in his chair quickly. She stepped through the doorway, making her way to his side before she knelt down and took his hands in hers.

"I am fine, Annie." Robb told her, pushing off the torment he was feeling. It had only been a few hours since their encounter in the woods but if Robb looked down at his hands, he would swear he still saw the wildling blood that painted his palms as he cleaned off his sword.

"You are not fine. Look at you! Your eyes are red, and you barely touched your food at supper tonight." She squeezed his hands firmly as she tried to get him to see reason.

"I did not think that I would feel this sick after killing my first man." He finally admitted, meeting her gaze.

"I cannot say I understand how you're feeling. But I know from my talks with Jory that this is natural." She moved one hand to his cheek, smiling up at him. "You saved me. And Bran, I will forever be in your debt. That man wanted to violate me, Robb, I-" she paused and looked away with a sigh, "I would have been destroyed if it were not for you."

"You owe me no debt, Aneira." He shook his head.

Aneira gently began rubbing her thumb against his cheek, offering him a warm smile before she took the seat across from him.

"Hmm, well," she paused, glancing down into the fire, "I'm sure my uncles will disagree."

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This chapter was much shorter than normal. Next chapter is going to be much longer. Lots of drama. 😏