Becoming a knight as a woman was no easy feat. The doubts, the stares, the verbal lashes (and the physical ones) all weighed on your conscience from the age of 13. From that young age, you weren't the most.. "feminine" lady out of your siblings. You preferred to be out in the elements, swordfighting and wrestling with your brothers. Of course, this earned you the amusement of your father and the worry of your mother. She constantly reminded you that you would have to take up your princess duties sooner or later, accompained by stifled chuckles courtesy of your sisters. This is all you were told for years, until you couldn't handle it anymore. One night, you got up from your warm bed chambers and packed your things into a single leather knapsack...and grab the sword that your father made custom for you. Looking around the room made you realize that this prim and proper life was never the mold you were destined to fit. You watched battles, heard of the tales of bravery, seen your father and his men come back; battered, bruised, but their spirits never broken. That's exactly what you wanted. The glory of a knight.

So, naturally, you started to train. Going from training camp to training camp, learning techniques from seasoned generals, older knights, beating squires. Many of them told you that you would be something, despite their initial doubt because of your gender. Being told that you would make something of yourself was motivation. And just like that, six more long years passed. You've grown taller, stronger, more hardened by the elements; but you still have long hair, the same eyes (with a scar over one of them!). Your family stopped looking for you. For some reason, it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. You had freedom, in the sense that nobody could tell you what to do. Plus, you still carried the same little sword that your father made all those years ago. But the way that the townspeople would look at you as you walk by...that self consciousness..you were never able to shake it.

One day, it seems like the tales of your strength reached the unforgiving, bitter cold of Winterfell. There was a tournament being held in order to recruit new knights. It was going to be a frozen journey, but there was no way that you were going to pass this opportunity up. You make the trek with the rest of the hopeful knights (which were all men, go figure), and they look at you the same way. Lust, confusion, amusement, bewilderment; all of the above.

The tournament ensues, and as expected...you crush the competition. Your helmet was on the entire time, so that nobody in the crowd could see your face. However, when it is done, a voice speaks. You look up and peak through your open visor, it's Lady Catelyn of House Stark. Your honored expression is covered by your helmet, you look around and see the rest of the Starks; Arya, Bran, Rickon, Robb, Sansa, and Ned.

"State your name and remove your helmet, brave knight." She says to you from the viewing area. You breathe out and remove your helmet, taking in everyone's surprised gasps (except for Arya, who is positively delighted). Catelyn looks confused, but still says, "A woman? Well..I'm..pleasantly surprised. But thoroughly impressed. What did you say your name was..and where are you from?"