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Namn: Grace Stark (egentligen Rhaenys Targaryen)
Ålder:18
Familj: Robb och Talisa Stark, men är egentligen dotter till Daenarys Targaryen och Khal Drogos son, Rhaego.
Bakgrund: föddes till Khal Rhaego och hans fru, men blev skickad till familjen Stark för att skyddas från Kings Landings lönnmördare som vill få tag på alla levande Targaryens. Hennes pappa är Kahl över en kahlasaar bortom Westeros och tanken var att i framtiden skulle hon bli Khaleesi över samma kahlasaar. Hon har levt med Robb och Talisa Stark i 10 år, efter att Robbs pappa Ned gått i godo för Targaryens namn. Hon har tyckt om att bo i Winterfell, men hon saknar självklart sin pappa och khalasaaren.
Utseende: Långt, svart (färgat, hennes hår är egentligen blont som hennes farmors). Lila ögon (tror inte linser fanns i Westeros xD). Hon är smal och medellång, men lite muskler efter att ha ridit mycket.
Personlighet: rollas fram

Namn: Ashter Bealish. But only use his first name, if he has to. Most people don't know his name, instead they call him The Outsider.
Ålder: 26 (hope it's alright that my characters is a bit older then yours? If not, I will just change it)
Familj: Father; Petyr Baelish, Mother; Unknown. Peter's goal with having a child was to be able to marry it with whoever he saw fit. Therefore wasn't the mother to important, as long as she was beautiful. But some people even speculate that Petyr took a child, since he was starting to get old.
Bakgrund: Ashter never know his mother, he doesn't know if she is alive or not. Petyr was the only parent he knew, and he wasn't much to a parent. Petyr made sure that Ashter got a proper education, in both language, history, behavior, the skills of sword fighting, hunting, riding. Everything a noble are supposed to know. Petyr had plans of marrying him with someone who could give him power. When Ashter was young, he didn't think much of it. Thinking every parent's were like Petyr. But when he got older he started to understand just how much Petyr were using him. And what kind of person Petyr was. So one day when Petyr were away, he left and never looked back. Ashter stopped using the name Baelish, understanding how much people hated it. And as it is now, he rides around Westeros. People often whisper about him, wondering who the man is. Ashter do what he needs to do to survive, but he is happy. He has the skill to be able to socialize with both the nobles and the common people.
Utseende:
Clothes:

Personlighet: Will most likely change during the roll.

Prolog:

Det är lugnt i Westeros. De fem kungarnas krig utlöstes aldrig, eftersom konflikten löste sig innan dess. När Ned Stark upptäckte att Jeoffery, Myrcella och Tommen Baratheon egentligen var renblodiga Lannisters, så blev tronföljden annorlunda. När Robert dog så tog Stannis Baratheon över Järntronen medan Cersei Lannister drog sig tillbaka med sina barn och tvillingbror.

Borta över havet fanns dock fortfarande en rival kvar: Daenarys Targaryen. Hon gjorde fortfarande anspråk på Järntronen. När hennes son Rhaego föddes valde hon att inte fortsätta sin kamp om Järntronen, det var inte värt liven som det riskerade. Trots det så förde hon över sina värderingar om hennes och hennes familjs anspråk på tronen till sin son. Daenarys och hennes drakar blev därför inget hot mer, även om Stannis Baratheon fortsatte sin brors kamp att förgöra alla Targaryens som straff för vad Rhaegal gjorde mot Lyanna.

När Stannis Baratheon dog tog hans dotter Shireen över tronen, och hon regerar just nu. Hon är en omtyckt drottning, men även hon har sidor som är tvivelaktiga.

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Grace suckade. Hon drog bort en slinga hår från ögonen och smackade med munnen för att få sin häst att röra på sig. Hon klappade om den kolsvarta hästen och hoppade av när de var framme i Winterfell. Hon ledde fram hingsten som togs emot av en stallpojke.
”Grace” hörde hon bakom sig och vände sig om. Hon drog lite i sin röda klänning. Framför henne stod Robb Stark, ståthållare i Winterfell. Han harklade sig.
”Du har säkert hört att det är festligheter ikväll, och jag och Talisa skulle vilja se dig i en av de nya klänningarna” sa han och Grace nickade och log.
”Visst, far” sa hon och han nickade.

Grace skulle aldrig kunna vänja sig vid att kalla Robb Stark för sin far, men de hade kommit överens om att det var nödvändigt när de var ute bland folk. Historien som gick var att hon var Robb och Talisas äldsta dotter som hade hållits gömd på grund av en smittosam sjukdom, men som hon blev frisk från vid 8 års ålder. Mirakulöst nog hade alla köpt den historien och behandlade henne som en Stark. Hon fick dock färga sitt hår ofta och folk kunde fortfarande inte riktigt förstå hur hon kunde ha fått lila ögon, men det var ingen som hade ifrågasatt dem än.

Grace gick in i en av byggnaderna och bort till sitt sovrum. Det var stort och varmt, eftersom det nästan alltid var en brasa tänd där inne. Hon satte sig på sängen och lutade sig bakåt mot väggen. Hon tänkte på sin riktiga far, Khal Rhaego. Hon undrade vad han gjorde nu, och om han tänkte på henne. Hon skakade på huvudet och reste sig upp. På kroken på hennes dörr hängde en klänning som Talisa hade valt ut, och Grace tog ner den från kroken. Det var en ljusblå klänning med svarta broderier, och Grace gillade den. Hon drog på sig den och stod framför spegeln och flätade sitt långa hår. Grace log till minnet av hur Talisa febrilt ville klippa hennes hår när hon kom till Winterfell, men Grace hade vägrat. Hon hade sagt att hon bara klippte sitt hår om hon förlorade i en strid, och sedan dess hade Talisa aldrig försökt sig närma henne med saxen igen. Det hade tagit tid, men Talisa och Robb hade lyckats kompromissa med en hel del under åren som Grace hade bott med dem, men de hade också respekterat att hon kom från ett ställe där man levde på ett helt annat sätt. Grace hade haft det bra hos familjen Stark, men hon längtade verkligen hem nu. Hon höll fortfarande kontakt med sin far genom brev, men hon hade inte fått höra hans röst på tio år.

När hon hade flätat klart håret tittade hon sig själv i spegeln och suckade. Hon hade aldrig varit ett fan av dessa tillställningar, det var så stelt att sitta en hel middag och försöka hitta på samtalsämnen. Hon skakade på huvudet och gick ut och bort till den stora salen där middagen skulle hållas. Hon stod tillsammans med sina ”systrar”, Robb Stark hade fått tre döttrar; Elisa, Miranda och Julianna Stark. De tre döttrarna var yngre än Grace och de två äldsta av dem, Elisa och Miranda, hade knappa minnen av ett liv utan Grace vilket gjorde lögnen lättare. Ingen av döttrarna visste att hon egentligen inte var deras biologiska syster, även om Grace hade kommit att älska dem som om de vore riktiga systrar.

Ashter was looking at the road infront of him. It was muddy after the rain, and the travelers. He wasn't sure where he was heading at the moment. Not that he was lost, far from it. He was aware of where he was. No it was rather the fact that he didn't had a goal at the moment. He had just been in High Garden, mostly because he had met a lovely woman, that he had spent some days with. But he easily got bored, and restless. He didn't have any plans on settle down, maybe it was because of the plans Petyr had for him.

When he thought of the man that supposed to be his father, he only felt disgust and anger. Petyr was a pitiful man, only after power. And up to some point he had. Ashter couldn't understand why the older man wasn't happy with what he had. He was lord of the the Eyrie after marrying Lysa, and after the woman died. Ashter didn't know how the woman died, but he had started to hear the rumors as a child. And as if that wasn't enough Petyr was master of coin. So why he wanted more, Ashter didn't understand. If he was honest with himself, he understood very little about Petyr, even less after all the information he had gathered after leaving home.

Ashter forced himself to stop thinking about Petyr, and concentrate on the road instead. His horse started to get restless, and Ashter understood him. He wanted to be on his way too. And even if had no problem on roaming around, he wanted to evaluate his choice. From where he was standing, he could take the road to the south and Dorne, or to the North. Ashter hadn't been to either in years, not having a reason to return to either.

"Cisco" Ashter started and the horse looked at him at once. "I am letting you decide this"
Gentle he pressed his heals against the horse, and the stallion took a few step forward, looking at his master to take the command, but Ashter didn't do anything else. So the stallion took a few more steps, and turned right, towards the north.
"To the north then, old friend" Ashter said as the took the reins.

Grace tried to hide her yawn. It had been 5 hours, and the party was still going on. She had a conversation with one of Robbs bannermen. She didn’t dislike him, but he wasn’t very interesting either. When the dancing started she saw her chance. They wouldn’t notice that she was missing. She snuck out the door and went to her room. She took her cloak and sword that she had gotten from her father. She went out on the yard and into the stables.
“Hey boy. Want to go out on an adventure?” she asked her stallion and put her mouth on his muzzle. She didn’t have time to put on the saddle, so she decided to go bareback. She kicked off her annoying shoes and got up on the horse. Out they went, and out the big gates of Winterfell. Robb would very angry with her if he found out what she was doing, but she didn’t want to talk with his friends all night. She wanted to feel the wind in her hair and the grass between her toes. She clicked with her mouth at the horse and he fell into a slow gallop. She loved this. Riding, feeling like nothing could stop her. She whispered with the horse in dothraki, since she believed it was the best way for horses to understand. The Dothrakis were horse masters, after all.

After a few minutes, she stopped. She got off the horse and let him feed on the grass. She went down to the lake and sat down. She loved the lake, especially in the night. She took a deep breath and felt the air go into her lungs. She lied down on the grass and looked up on the star filled sky. She played with her hair and closed her eyes. She daydreamed of what she always dreamt of during the day: herself as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. Both were her rightful claim, after all. She opened her eyes and stared at the stars, wishing she could go home soon. She felt a bit bad though. Robb and Talisa had been nothing but wonderful to her, but she couldn’t help it; she was feeling homesick. She had some contact with her father, but it wasn’t much due to the danger if the wrong people found out.

Grace stood up and took her sword. She started to swing it, graciously but also very dangerously. She was very skilled with the blade, just like her father had taught her. She listened to the sound of the blade cutting the air, and tried to open her consciousness to feel the surrounding area.
“The best weapon you have is your hearing” her father had told her when they practiced when she was little. She closed her eyes and tried to hear even the smallest sounds around her.

Ashter wasn't in a hurry, so he let Cisco walk in a low pace, saving his energy. The horse seemed more then happy about this, especially when it started to snow. Ashter knew that it would be tiring for the horse to walk through the snow, especially when it got deeper. As it was now it melted as soon as it landed on the ground, making the road wetter. The weather in the middle of the land always seemed worse then the heat or the cold for some reason. Maybe it was because you always knew what you got in the south and north, and it made it easier to travel. Or rather prepare your travel. Because due to the weather in the south and north, the trip could get worse. You and the horse needed to fight on another level to survive. But Ashter didn't complain, a challenge made life more excited.

Ashter had been riding for the past hours, and when the landscape started to turn white, and the cold got worse, he tugged his cape closer to him. Cisco didn't seemed to bother by the fact, that it got colder, not that it surprised Ashter. The horse was made to handle the cold better then him. But when he putted on his gloves, he felt a bit better. His clothes could manage most weathers. And as it was now, he didn't plan on visiting the wall, so he would be fine. He wasn't sure to where he would go when he got further north. He would most likely visit Winter Town, like he had done the few time he went that north. But he was careful to avoid the castle, since he had visited it with Petyr, in a younger age.

Ashter knew that the Starks wasn't so pleased with Petyr, after everything he had done. And his guess was that they wasn't to pleased with him either. Not that he had done anything, but he was most likely guilty by association, and the Starks was a bit to honourable for his taste. So if the saw him, or if they rather recognized him, since he had changed over the years, they would send him back to Petyr, or worse, punish him for what Petyr had done. So Ashter was always careful with avoiding the castle.

As the night drew closer, Asher looked at the moon, it was big enough to light the way for him. At least for the moment. It was dangerous to travel in the night, but he could defend himself, so he felt safe enough. But he was on his guard, he knew that relaxing wasn't an option, neither when you travled at the kings road, or by night. And he often glanced at Cisco, waiting for an reaction if someone was nearby, or if something was wrong.

Grace suddenly stopped. She sighed and put the sword back in her belt. She probably had to go back soon. She felt some snowflakes on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. Winter is coming, like Robb used to say. She didn’t like the cold. She had been lucky, she was born in the summer and the winter hadn’t come yet, but it was still chilly and sometimes snow in the north. She liked the warm climate beyond the Narrow Sea. She remembered when she first arrived in Winterfell, how cold it had been comparing with what she was used to. Her fingers had been frozen solid and her lips had been blue. Talisa had been really nice to her and wrapped her up in blankets and animal furs. It had taken Grace a while before she went out for the first time, and it had also been the first time she saw snow. She had stood by, watching the kids in Winterfell throw the white, cold, wet stuff at each other, laughing. Suddenly, someone had accidentally hit her in the neck with a snowball. She had shrieked, and thrown one back at him, right in his face. They had laughed and a minute later, she was running with the kids, throwing snowball at each other.

Grace came back to reality. She was a daydreamer, which was good in certain situations, but not when she was alone in the dark outside of Winterfells walls. She shook her head and looked at the lake. The moon reflected on the surface, which was very beautiful.

Grace were just about to go back up on her stallion when he snorted and backed up a few steps. Grace frowned, and with her hand on her sword, she looked around the area. She didn’t see anything. She had actually gone quite a bit from Winterfell. Not very far from where she stood was the town called Winter Town. Grace had been there twice. She looked back at the horse and mumbled something in dothraki to him. She stroke him on his neck and got up on his back.
“Let’s go home, right?” she said to him and the horse walked slowly. She was fine with that, she wanted to be away from Winterfell for as long as possible, she didn’t want to go back to the feast. She heard a cracking sound and the stallion flinched.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s nothing” she said and stroke his neck again. She looked back, into the darkness between the trees.

Ashter had started singing a song in his head, as he was riding. Something some people would call madness. But he wasn't stuped enough to start singing out load, not when he wasn't in a safe place. Making load, far from necessary sounds, was a fast way to get killed. And even is Ashter threw himself into danger from time to time, he had no attention to die. Even the dangerous situation was in someway controlled. In the way that he knew what he was doing, and didn't bite for more then he could handle. At least not in his own eyes. Other people wouldn't agree, saying some of his action was pure stupidity. But a lot of stupidity, made good songs. Even if it was far from Ashter's goal to be in any songs. But he knew that their was some songs about him, or about the Outsider, as it was the name people called him buy. It was a name he had took a liking to. He wasn't sure why, but something about it made him...happy? Happy felt like a strange description to him. But he wasn't sure how else he would describe it, was proud a better word maybe. No matter what the feeling was, he liked it, and he decided to leave it at that. As he returned to sing the song he had started.

When he got further north, and the cold got worst, he started to regret that he didn't went to Dorne, and the heat. Even if he was sure that he would have wished that it was the other way around, if he had went for Dorne. But as he the night went on, the snow stopped, and he started to see the lights from Winter Town, in the far. He knew that it would still take some time for him to reach them, but seeing them made him feel better. And Cisco seemed to notice, since he started to walk faster, and Ashter had to stop him from start trotting, knowing it would be to dangerous to do in the night.

As he was riding between the trees, getting closer to the town, he started to long after some food, a warm bed, and a girl by his side. A good, but simple night, just the way he liked it. But something interrupted his thinking, a voice. Ashter looked down at Cisco who had stepped on a branch, hidden under som snow. And someone was close enough to hear that. Ashter could tell it was a woman's voice, but he couldn't see her. He thought of what his options were. The first thing that came to mind was to stand still, not reveal himself. But if the woman started looking for him, the situation could go wrong first. But so could revealing himself. The woman could be hostile, having experience with meeting dangerous women before. Ashter had learned not to underestimate them, only because of their gender. So either option was risky, but Ashter thought hiding would be the worse of them, if something got wrong. So with his hand on the sword, he kept riding, pretending that he hadn't heard the woman, and hoping he would regret the option.

The black stallion refused to let go of the feeling that something was wrong. He stopped once again, snorting. Grace sighed and looked back yet again, and this time, she swore she saw something move. It was definitely a horse, judging of the way it moved. There were no wild horses in the north, which meant there must be a human on the horse. Grace thought quickly, what was her best option here? She was obviously more dangerous on the horse, Dothraki blood ran through her veins after all. She turned the stallion around, and drew her sword. It was better to face the danger than letting them come up to you and stab you in the back.
“Who’s there?” she said, feeling all of her muscles tighten, she was ready for anything. Her horse was also ready for action, he snorted and scraped with his hoof on the ground. Grace was calm, but she knew that if needed, the storm inside could arrive at any second. She loved this.

Grace had been a good fighter for a very long time. She could ride and swing a sword before she took her first step. She had gone fighting with the khalasar before the age of 8, in the heat of a battle was where she belonged. Her mother hadn’t liked that her precious daughter had gone fighting at such young age, but her father had thought differently. Since he was the Khal, it hadn’t been much of a discussion. He had been worried about Graces skills fading when the arrangements with the Stark family were made. When her father brought her to Westeros, he had only asked Robb Stark for one thing, and that was to keep training Grace fighting and riding in the spirit of the Dothrakis. Robb had agreed, and had found a maester who knew everything about Dothrakis and their ways, and the maester had taken Khal Rhaegos place as Graces teacher. They had fought every day until he passed away in pneumonia two years ago. Not that Grace needed him anymore, but she missed him sometimes, it was nice to fight with someone who knew the ways of the Dothrakis.

Grace took a deep breath and had a steady grip around the hilt of the sword. She thought about how it would look; a thin girl on a horse with a sword. Most people would laugh at her, but it gave her an advantage over her opponent.
“I’m not asking again, show yourself” she said and was ready to charge towards whoever was between the trees.

Ashter was feeling calm, even with the situation infront of him. A situation that had turned south much faster then he had estimated. He had counted on some level of hostility, but not on this level, how stupid it now may sound. Ashter had no intention to be involved in a fight, in any sort. But the woman did not seem to hesitate. The reason for that could be many, and he doubted that knowing it would be to big help here. Especially not when the woman seemed a bit agitated. For a woman, alone on the road, this wasn't something to surprising. Even with peace in the world, it was a dark place and full of terror, as the Red priestesses used to say. It was far from the only thing they said, but since Ashter was far from a believer, at least when it came to their religion, he only used the part's he liked. And in this case it was that the world was dark and full of terrors, which was how a wise man should see the world. A wise man was always on his guard, without letting the fear take control.

Ashter's eyes went to the woman when he called out for him once more. And he understood that she wasn't waiting for much longer, and Ashter made Cisco go a bit faster. The moon light, bathed over them when they entered the more open field. It made him and his black horse, look even darker. Ashter, still had to draw his sword, as he rode closer.
"If I had been either deaf or mute, would you have run me through?" Ashter asked with a smile, a smile that was hidden under the hood. Ashter rode a bit closer to the other rider. As he did, he saw that she was younger them him with a few years. She looked like she wasn't dressed for a ride, and that made Ashter raise an eyebrow. But having the skill to ride in a dress like that, made him understood that she was a used rider. He then looked at the sword in her hand, and he could tell that she knew what she was doing. As he stopped not to close to him, he recognized her, and smiled a bit for himself. If it was a smile of joy, or of anger, he couldn't tell.

He had met this girl when she was younger, and he could tell that she was a lively one, back then. Petyr had soon crossed the woman, now infront of him, of his list. Petyr had thought she was to unpredictable. Ashter hadn't thought to much about it at the time, and after he left, he hadn't thought about it at all. But, seeing the woman infront of him, he guessed Petyr had been right, like he always was. Ashter felt a bitter taste in his mouth, thinking of the other man, so he decided to focus on the woman, on the horse.
"So why are Lady Stark here?" he asked gently.