A/N: Hello, guys :) I am totally obsessed with Game of Thrones, I LOVE it (despite the fact that so many of my favorite characters are now dead) and this waiting until Season 5 is driving me crazy! So, I decided to write a story, with my OC being the "bastard girl of Winterfell" as she will be known. I really hope that you will like it and I can't wait for your reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own GOT (because, if I did, all Starks would still be alive and Joffrey would be dead from Season 1, muahahaha)

Since she was a toddler, she was taunted and insulted because of her origins, she and her twin brother; only that, with her, it was worse because she was a girl.

She was considered "born in shame" and not even the entire respect towards her father, the Lord of Winterfell, would ever vanish that. Everyone appreciated her father and everyone despised her. As she grew up and was proven to be stubborn and determined like a boy, people shook their heads with pity, as if she was carrying an illness.

After all, what else to expect from a bastard girl?

But both she and her brother endured this with patience and dignity. They had each other, their father's acceptance and the love of their half-siblings; they were able to ignore, most of the times, the hatred Lady Catelyn and complete strangers showed towards them.

At least, that was the case when she was still a child. As an adolescent, though, it became more and more difficult for her to stay silent whenever someone offended her, her brother and, sometimes, even the mother she had never known, yet people referred to her as a whore who drew her father away from the path of honor. Even when she introduced herself to people, they always recalled the titles she was given due to her hail.

Deana Snow, the bastard girl of Winterfell, Jon Snow's twin, the "little bastard beast".

Well, according to her opinion, better to be a beast than a victim.

Who would demand from her to be a proper lady like her half-sister Sansa? No one, certainly, and she did not want this for herself either.

'That is not you' as Arya had once told her.

And so she started training in archery, both openly and in secret, much to her brother's amusement and Lady Catelyn's disdain. But she knew too well that she had to fight for survival in a world that considered her a nothing because of her bastardy.

The direwolf was not her sigil and she never pretended that it was.

But she would most certainly fight like one if it came down to it.

Deana woke up early, just like every morning, spending a few moments of thinking in her warm bed before having to stand up and start her day. These moments were from her favorite ones, when no one disturbed her thoughts and she could quietly recall her most recent training session or something funny she had done with one of her brothers or Arya. No one taunted her, no one made her feel useless and she was away from nervous stares.

'You are so strong; why do you allow these comments to take you down?' Robb had once asked her.

'Because they concern my family, that is why. And you know that I can even give my life for those I consider my family' she had replied.

Deana was not a fool; she knew that, even if her half-siblings and her father treated her with respect and love, she would never be a true part of the Stark House; just like Jon knew it. Everyone else, and Lady Catelyn first of all, always made this clear. She had accepted this, but deep down she wished that this would be enough for them and they would not make everything worse with their harsh words.

After combing her long, oak brown hair, she made her way to the courtyard, wanting to help in the stables and then watch Bran training archery. She imagined poor Arya, who would have her embroidery lesson with Sansa and the other girls and a pitiful smile appeared on her face. Her youngest half-sister and she shared the same hatred for "stupid, lady-like activities" as Arya called them and she made a note in her mind to do something entertaining with her after she was finished, to cheer her up.

'Good morning, Elyana' she greeted a young maid who was walking to the opposite direction.

'Good morning to you as well, Deana' the girl replied with a smile. 'Where are you heading?'

'Oh, I will go to the stables to help. And you?'

'I will go and help in the kitchens'

'Would you like me to assist you?'

'You are very kind, but that would not be necessary. I do not want to distract you from your work'

The man who was supervising those who worked in the stables greeted her with a gaze filled with despise, but she did not pay any attention to him. She went straight to the box that hosted her horse, a dark brown mare named Storm, who neighed happily at the sight of her mistress. Deana caressed her lovingly and laughed when the horse nudged her. Sometimes it was as if Storm could understand her feelings and if something was troubling her, that was why she spent her time in the stable when she did not want to see anyone and when she was frustrated with the world. Her loyal companion was the perfect company at such moments, she felt closer to her than she felt with people and she never judged her because she was herself.

'Are you hungry, Storm?' Deana chuckled. 'Has no one fed you yet? Let us see what we can do about that, shall we?'

Storm ate the fresh apple Deana gave her and, afterwards. Deana cleaned her stable box and brushed her until her brown fur shone. She then did the same with her brothers' horses, since Arya preferred to look after her horse herself and Sansa almost never stepped her foot in the stable, since it was not proper. Deana smiled melancholically; she loved Sansa, as she loved all of them, but sometimes she wished that her red-haired sister would not stick to the rules so much; that she would leave some space for spontaneous actions. That was why she and Arya fought so often; Deana had stopped their arguments many times.

The courtyard was filled when she exited the stables; servants were running up and down, boys were training and a smith apprentice was working on a sword in the smithy. Deana enjoyed the sounds echoing from every corner, it gave a lively tone in the environment and it voided the common belief that Winterfell was a deserted place, away from the rest of the world, causing feelings of suffocation. Winterfell was in solitude, aye, in the far North; but Deana would never wish for a better home.

She spotted Bran standing between Jon and Robb, bow and arrow in hand and looking very focused. Little Rickon was next to them, sitting on a saddle, and she ruffled his hair when passing by. She was rewarded by a childish giggle that made her laugh as well.

'Well, little soldier, how are we today?' she asked him.

'Bran has missed all his shots!' Rickon answered instead with even louder giggle, ignoring the death glare the brother in question threw him.

'Do not laugh at him, Rickon; he needs practice is all' Deana told him and rubbed his shoulder. 'It is not easy to become a marksman, after all'

'But you are a wonderful marksman…I mean, woman' Rickon corrected himself in a fit of laughter.

'She managed to accomplish this after hard training, though, and after having the best tutors' Robb interfered with a wink towards Deana, who smacked him playfully on the shoulder.

'I am not complaining' she said and approached Bran, who was about to fit another arrow on his bow. She greeted Jon with a tight hug, which he returned.

'Come on, Bran, focus and shoot' she encouraged her other brother, patting him on the shoulder.

Bran stretched the string of his bow and aimed for several seconds before releasing the arrow, which landed next to the target. Rickon tried to hide his sly smirk and Bran groaned in frustration.

'Do not worry, Bran; you will manage it' Deana comforted him and Jon bent down so that his and Bran's heads were at the same height.

'Go on. Father's watching' he whispered and, after looking above, turned to the boy again. 'And your mother'

Deana followed his eyes and saw, indeed, that Ned and Catelyn Stark were watching them from the balcony. She smiled politely and made a curtsey; her father waved at her, while Lady Catelyn only inclined her head. Despite the way the Lady of Winterfell behaved towards her, Deana still respected her for the love she showed at her husband and children; a love so strong, that could turn her to a fierce woman if it came down to protecting them.

'I will never do it' Bran said, clearly disappointed, and Deana gave him a brief hug.

'Never give up, Bran. You will do it right, you just have to insist on trying' she told him. 'Do you think I did it from the beginning? It needed a lot of practice to actually hit the target'

'Aye; once she hit a sack with flour and it needed two hours to get cleaned' Jon revealed, making Robb and Bran burst into hysterical laughter.

'Thank you for embarrassing me, brother dear' Deana pretended to sound insulted, but her own smile betrayed her.

'As you see, Bran, you should never back down from any obstacles' Robb turned to him. 'You have to go on, fight and try further'

'Alright' Bran nodded and took another arrow. 'Let us see, then'

He took aim again and released, only to send the arrow over the target. The other three boys started laughing and Diane could not help but smirk as well. She was not laughing at him, but she enjoyed when they were like this, together, helping each other and having fun.

'And which one of you was a marksman at ten?' Ned's voice was heard from the balcony and everyone looked at him. 'Keep practicing, Bran. Go on'

Bran nodded and looked at the target again, wanting to make his father proud. The others became serious again; Bran needed and wanted assistance and this was what they would give him.

'Don't think too much, Bran' Jon advised him.

'Relax your bow arm' Robb added.

'And hold it a little higher' Deana pointed out.

Bran pulled the arrow back, but he did not manage to shoot, for, at this moment, another arrow hit the bullseye. Deana, Bran—still with his arrow—Jon and Robb turned surprised, only to see Arya, a bow in her hand. She smirked and curtseyed after her perfect shot, while Deana was clapping in her hands, smiling widely and proudly. Arya would always be Arya; determined, independent, making her own decisions, even if it meant disobeying the orders given to her in the process. Bran dropped his bow and started chasing her all around, with their siblings' laughter following them.

'Quick, Bran! Faster!' Robb and Jon called after them.

'Run, Arya, run!' Deana yelled.

'Wait until I catch you, I will tickle you until you beg me to stop!' Bran shouted after his immediate elder sister.

'First you have to catch me and you know I never beg!' Arya shouted back, running past Deana and hiding behind her back.

At this moment, Theon Greyjoy made his appearance, nodding towards Robb and giving Jon and Deana an ironic smile. Deana's dark grey eyes narrowed as she stared angrily at him, for she could not endure his arrogance and how he thought he could treat her as if she was a servant. In Theon's opinion only, he thought that the fact that he was raised here and was Robb's friend made him someone important; but she knew the entire story and did not hesitate to tell him.

'Robb, Snow' he addressed them. 'Lord Stark wishes you to saddle your horses. The guardsmen have caught a deserter from the Night's Watch'

'A deserter?' Robb repeated with a tone of sadness. Deana knew very well what this meant; she had often heard about men who had abandoned the Night's Watch for some reason and their sentence was death. 'We will come at once; we will only gather the arrows'

'I will help' the young woman declared herself willing and ran to the targets to take some arrows. Rickon jumped from his saddle and followed her and Bran to help them.

Just as Deana put the arrows in their place, she saw Jon looking up, his usually serious expression being even more serious and sad. She looked up as well and saw Lady Catelyn standing on her own on the balcony, staring at them with furiousness, as if they had committed a terrible crime.

Well, the way she sees things, we have committed a terrible crime, she thought. It was a bitter realization, but she pushed it away as she placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. The "Snow Twins" as some people called them, had never spoken about this, but the one knew how much the cruelness of the people around them hurt the other. Deana could easily hide behind her emotionless mask and her natural wit and sarcasm, but every time she saw her brother like this, either being melancholic or bursting his anger on a poor practicing dummy, it was as if something was breaking in her heart.

'I have to go. They will be waiting for me' he quickly said and hugged her, caressing her hair. 'Will you be alright?'

'I will be fine, Jon' she assured him rubbing his back comfortingly. 'Be careful'

'You be careful' he told her and, after giving her a kiss on the forehead, he walked away.

'Young lord!' she heard someone and saw Ser Rodrick Cassell going next to Bran. 'Lady Deana' he added when he saw her before speaking with Bran again. 'Young lord, your father has requested that you come with us'

'Me?' Bran gasped and gave a scared look to his half-sister.

'Aye. If you please, go and saddle your horse, we are to leave immediately'

'As you command, Ser Rodrick' Bran replied and hurried for the stables.

'Ser Rodrick!' Deana called after the man, who stopped and looked at her questioningly. 'Do you consider it necessary? Bran is only ten years old; he is far too young to bear such a sight'

'Lord Stark believes it is time for him to get used in such sights, my lady' Ser Rodrick answered. 'He will see far worse things when he grows up, believe me. And do not forget that winter is coming'

'It's a freak' Theon commented. After the execution of the young deserter, the men had gone hunting, where they had discovered a dead stag and a dead direwolf with five whimpering pups around her.

'It's a direwolf' Lord Stark said and exchanged a puzzled look with Ser Rodrick. 'Tough old beast' he added and pulled out the stag's antlers, which were stuck in the animal's body.

'There are no direwolves south of the Wall' Robb stated.

'Now there are five' Jon disagreed while picking up a pup and giving it to Bran. 'You want to hold it?'

'Where will they go?' Bran wanted to know with a sad voice, stroking the pup. 'Their mother's dead'

'They don't belong down here' Rodrick Cassell made clear, speaking strictly.

'Better a quick death' Ned agreed. 'They won't last without their mother'

'Right. Give it here' Theon unsheathed his dagger and tried to pull the pup away from Bran's hug.

'NO!' the young boy screamed terrified and angrily at the same time.

'Put away your blade' Robb commanded disgustedly, not believing how cruel his friend could be to take an innocent animal's life so easily.

'I take orders from your father, not you'

'Please, father!' Bran looked at him, begging him to show compassion.

'I am sorry, Bran'

'Lord Stark?' Jon spoke again, still looking at the dead direwolf and her children. 'There are five pups. One for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. They were meant to have them'

Everyone fell silent as they looked at Lord Stark, who thought for some moments before coming up with a decision.

'You will train them yourselves' he made clear. Bran smiled happily and Theon put his dagger back in its place. 'You will feed them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves'

Bran cradled his pup lovingly, while Jon was giving more pups to Robb, who handed two of them to Theon.

'What about you and Deana?' Bran asked Jon worriedly.

'We are not Starks' Jon told him seriously. 'Get on'

As the men walked away, Jon started following them, but, in a sudden, more whimpering was heard from the direction of the direwolf. He approached to look closer, making Bran, Robb and Theon stop.

'What is it?' Robb asked curiously.

Jon searched carefully and pulled two more wolf pups from their mother's body. The one was completely white, while the other was white from the ears to the tail with a dark grey belly. Both of them looked at him and he couldn't help but smile. The two pups looked different from their siblings, just like he and his twin.

'The runts of the litter' Theon had the same thought, only that he considered it an ironic coincidence. 'These ones are yours and your sister's, Snow'

The rest of the Stark children were overjoyed when they saw the pups and they quickly made their choices and gave them names. Jon, after searching, found Deana practicing her archery. He had let the others choose from the ones Robb and Theon were holding, for he wanted the two in his arms being his and Deana's.

'The outcasts with the outcasts' he whispered gently to them. 'But we will never treat you as such'

'Did you come home, brother?' Deana spoke to him without even looking away from the target.

'Aye, and I bring you a present, dearest sister. Take a look'

When Deana saw what he had brought, her whole face shone and she smiled brightly. Jon quickly explained how they had found the seven pups and why he wanted them to have these two.

'They are beautiful' Deana said tenderly, her palm running through the white-grey pup's belly. 'Have you chosen yours?'

'If you do not mind, I would like to have the white one. After all, I think that the other is already fond of you'

Deana laughed, for her brother was right; the pup she had caressed was now licking her hand, tickling her. She took it in her arms like a baby and it nestled there, throwing his paws in the air.

'My, my, you are a playful one, are you not? I think I will name you…Winter'

A/N: Okay, everyone, that was it for now. Hope you enjoyed it :) :) R&R, please *puppy dog eyes*