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The chilly wind engulfed her body as Adrena Vlakov drove her sword through the air, hitting her imaginary enemy in the chest. She pulled her arm back and kicked her leg out, imagining Ned Stark's body falling dead. It thrilled her to imagine being the one to kill Lord Eddard Stark, but unfortunately, that pleasure had gone to Joffrey Baratheon, the king. Though, Joffrey had been a complete nutcase, that was one thing she respected about him: his utter hatred for the Starks. It was the one thing that she had agreed with him on and never once felt an ounce of sadness when the raven held a message announcing Lord Stark's death. In fact, she had been filled with anger finding out that the man she had spent years training to kill had been executed by someone else. Her original plan to kill Ned Stark had been ruined and she had hoped that finding out he had been beheaded in front of the whole King's Landing would lessen the pain in her heart, but it didn't. She needed revenge. Eddard had taken away the one person who loved her unconditionally and she wanted someone else to feel that way, to understand her pain. That's why she spent hours training everyday for the next few years, planning to take each Stark out at unpredictable times. She wanted them to feel the pain she felt, to fear their lives and fear for their loved ones as she hunted them down and ended their bloodline. She wanted to end the Starks just like Ned had ended her father's life.
"Bastard!" The obnoxiously high-pitched voice that belonged to her father's widow, Lorelle, broke through her thoughts of revenge. Adrena ground her teeth together in aggravation before looking towards the door where the blonde woman stood, her arms grossed over her chest and a harsh look on her ugly face. The woman wasn't beautiful like the other women she'd seen around Blathe. Adrena didn't understand what her father had seen in that woman. It's not like she had a nice personality.
"My name is Adrena." Her voice was tight with annoyance that was permanently a feeling she felt around Lorelle. She knew it wasn't long before she left to find Jon Snow so the least she could do is deal with the insults.
"Bastards don't have names. You're quite lucky that your father allowed you to take his name instead of that bastard name, Snow." Lorelle smirked once she saw she had gotten to Adrena, which is exactly what she wanted. If looks could kill, Lorelle would've dropped dead then and there.
"My Lady, you are quite right. I thank you for allowing me to stay here after so many years since my father's murder." Adrena sheathed her sword and plastered a fake smile on her lips. It was only a matter of time before she would be on her way to the North. She'd leave this place and never return.
"Draw me a bath. It's been a long day and I need to relax." Adrena sent her a curt nod and murmured something about Lorelle not doing anything but sit around. She walked silently into the house and set her sword down in the corner where her bed was. It wasn't anything fancy compared to the rest of their house. It was tall and polished, with only the best furniture and decoration for the Lady of Blathe. The title should've gone to Adrena and everyone knew it, but since she was simply just a bastard to everyone but her father, the title was passed to Lorelle. It wasn't such a loss to Adrena, though. She didn't want the responsibility of being the lady in charge- she had other things to do.
Quietly humming a song that her father used to sing to her, she made her way towards the tub. She longed to strip out of her dress and let the warm water soak over her body, relaxing her tensed muscles, but she wasn't allowed to until Lorelle had taken hers. She waited for the water to get warm, trailing her fingers through the water to test it every few minutes. Once it was finally warm enough, she called out for the scorned woman. Lorelle's footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and Adrena waited, her arms crossed over her chest. The woman mader her way into the room, placing a hand into the water and immediately pulling it back out.
"This is way too hot! Are you trying to burn me alive?" Adrena kept her mouth shut, afraid she'd say something too harsh. Lorelle was fuming and when Adrena didn't answer it made her all that more angry. She raised a hand, slapping the younger girl across the face. Adrena yelped in pain, placing a hand over her stinging cheek. "You stupid bitch. When I speak to you, you should answer me."
"I'm sorry, Lady Lorelle. I won't do it again." She turned her back to the woman, dropping her hand from her cheek and left the room. Her eyes held a dangerous glint to them and a feeling stirred inside her, something she only felt when she thought of the Starks. Her brown eyes landed on the sword that she had thrown onto her bed and it took everything in her to not grab it and use it. Adrena huffed in anger, taking her dress off and throwing it on the end of her bed. She grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, changing into the more comfortable outfit that suited her. She must have taken her time because Lorelle could be heard getting dressed down the hall. Adrena hurriedly slipped on a jacket that would keep her warm on her journey to the North. The door opened and Lorelle's feet slapped against the wooden floors causing Adrena to quickly grab her sword and throw it over her shoulder, placing a hand on the hilt.
"Where have you run off to, bastard? You should be making my dinner by now." Adrena turned, her hand tightly holding the hilt of her sword, not pulling it completely out yet. Lorelle scanned the younger girl and a distasteful look crossed her face. "What are you do-"
Adrena pushed past her, busying herself in the kitchen. It was just a distraction so Lorelle would get off her back and leave her alone. She placed a pan on the counter, her eyes looking to see Lorelle turned the other way, reading a piece of paper. It was her chance. The younger girl unsheathed her sword, holding it out in front of her as her feet silently moved directly behind the woman. Her free arm grabbed Lorelle's arm, pulling her back into Adrena chest while the sword rested against her exposed neck. She could feel her trembling in her grasp and it pleased her to be the one in charge now. For years, she had been forced to endure abuse and insults from this woman who seemed to blame her for every wrong thing in her life; but now, she wasn't going to let anyone hurt her any longer.
"Let me go or I'll have your head." Lorelle tried to sound intimidating but her voice shook with fear. Adrena let out a timid laugh, pressing the edge of her sword harder against her neck. "Guards! He-"
Adrena didn't hesitate to slide the sword across her neck, cutting the words off before anyone could hear them. Lorelle stumbled forward and fell to the ground, blood gurgling at her mouth. Adrena knelt down, her eyes holding no regret as Lorelle took her last breathe and blood soaked the wooden floors around her. It was ironic in a sick way. Their house sigil was a dove which people associated with peace and love, and not once did Adrena plan to honor that. She wanted revenge on people who did her wrong; Lorelle just happened to be the first person she saw. Jon Snow was next.
