Forgotten Survivor

She tried to remember if she’d heard the name before, but it didn’t ring any bells. Not that that said anything, because she was horrible at remembering names. “Name’s Faith,” she answered with a small smile, not giving up her last name, figuring that wasn’t important.

Only those who had been around when Brandon Stark was alive knew him.  Or those that had heard the stories.  "Hello Faith, pretty name for a pretty girl.  How can I help you?"

"You wear a Northern brooch…" Rickon observed the familiar pin with curiosity. He certainly didn’t expect the first person for him to stumble across after leaving Skagos was a Northerner. "I know it well."

Ethan's eyes dropped to where the brooch was. A symbol and reminder of the reasons he had fought.  The reasons he had watched his friends die.  "Yes well, then welcome home but it still does not answer my question."

"You knew Brandon?" Only then as he looked closer into the man’s face did Ned recognize him. He closed his eyes tightly at the memories. The young men that rode off to King’s Landing together and then how he had come back to Winterfell with the news. He saw Lyanna lying on that bed… Everything began to swirl around in his head. Memories he thought he ahd suppressed the moment when that Red Priest brought him back.

"Everyone believes I'm dead," Ethan replied in a quiet voice, and honestly there were times when he wished he was.  Things would be far simpler if he had not survived that day at the tower.  He would be free from the world he knew.  The memories that haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

"Bradon Stark—you were my Uncle’s squire?"

"Yes.  I'm Ethan Glover my lady..."

Ethan did then stopped short, staring at the other.  Of course he knew of him, who else could it be right?  He was not as young as he had once been, his eyes showing that he had been someone who had seen far too much.  Learned far too much.

Eddard had been riding for days toward Deepwood Motte. It had not been easy, but he was close to Winterfell and if he could get there… He knew what he would find. That was what had sparked his vengeance now and the sight of his home gutted would add more fuel to the fire.

Ethan did then stopped short, staring at the other.  Of course he knew of him, who else could it be right?  He was not as young as he had once been, his eyes showing that he had been someone who had seen far too much.  Learned far too much.

"Again my mistake, I must apologize. What brings you here to Winterfell?"

"I used to live here...I was Brandon Stark's squire..."

In her armor, it was near impossible for Faith to actual bow, so she just settled for a short nod towards the man. “Depending on who exactly, you might be able to do something for me.” She wasn’t all that familiar with all the names of the nobles and their households around here.

Ethan studied her for a while.  "Ethan Glover of the Wolfswood.  And yourself?" he asked glancing towards her.

+2

+1

"Oh, my mistake—then might I ask where you are from, My Lord?"

"I'm no lord. I'm from the Wolfswoods."