Lyanna

Lyanna pulled her knees to her chest and listened to the rustling of the wind. Briefly, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the cold air on her skin, hoping it would alleviate the hot anger boiling in her gut.

You are to wed Robert Baratheon, her Lord Father had informed her this very evening upon Ned's arrival from the Eyrie. You shall be Lady of Storm's End.

She had been so shell-shocked that she had left her Lord Father and brothers standing there and had fled to the godswood.

Ever since, she had remained here, seeking refuge among the old gods. She hadn't wept. Tears were for babies like Benjen, but she wished that she had taken one of Ser Roderik's practice blades with her to ease her burning anger at a nearby tree.

She had always known that she would be wed, but Robert Baratheon was the last person that came to her mind.

She had met him only once when she had visited Ned in the Eyrie and had been more than confused by her brother's admiration for the Lord of the Stormlands.

Robert Baratheon had little in common with Ned. He was brash, foolish and too convinced about his own self-importance. The way he had ogled her breasts whenever she lowered her head had reminded her of her brother Brandon, who was known to chase every skirt that came his way. Barbrey Ryswell had been his first and Lyanna was sure that many more would follow into her footsteps. She truly pitied his bride, Lady Catelyn Tully.

And while she was sure that Robert Baratheon must have some good qualities that Ned admired him so much, it was a completely different matter to spend the rest of her life with him in the far away Stormlands. That Robert Baratheon, not unlike her brother Brandon, had a reputation to fuck every kitchen maid that came his way only helped to increase her fears.

Lyanna knew that he had fathered a bastard girl on a girl in the Vale and while she held no dislike for the babe, it only increased her greatest fear. To be just another forgotten noble girl, like so many in Westeros.

She could see her dreadful future all too clearly. Now, in the bloom of her youth, Robert Baratheon may swear his undying love for her, but after she birthed him two or three babes she would be forgotten.

That he didn't seem to understand her at all or at least didn't even make any attempts to speak to her, before making this proposal, had angered her even more.

They had met scarce a year ago and he was not known to be a shy man either. If he really wanted to know her, he could have at least spoken to her.

Yet none of this had happened. Instead, he had spent his days hunting and whoring.

No, it was surely not love that was driving Robert Baratheon's actions, but lust or perhaps some sort of misguided infatuation.

Yet neither her father nor Ned would understand that. Ned, most of all seemed delighted by the idea to call Robert his future good-brother.

It was all so terrible unfair.

Again, the trees whispered and a flock of ravens soared over the azure sky. An icy gust of wind washed over her and made her shudder.

She had never felt this cold, but then she hadn't even put on a cloak when she had fled from her father's hall.

Shivering from head to toe, she rubbed her hands and bit her lips to drive a way the cold. For a moment she contemplated returning to the castle, but then another, more daring thought crossed her mind.

I could run away, she thought. Benjen and I could live beyond the Wall with the wildlings and giants. Like in Old Nan's stories. No way Robert Baratheon would be able to find me there.

She knew of course how silly that idea was. Her Father's guards would find her before she made it to Mole's Town and then she would be locked up until her marriage. Her father was not a man to tolerate disobedience, not even from his only daughter.

"There you are hiding, sister," Ned's voice startled her.

Lyanna couldn't help but to frown, though it was their Lord Father who had made the final decision.

"Go away!" she grumbled and gathered a handful of snow in her hand, before throwing it at Ned. "I don't want to see anyone!"

Her brother ducked out of the way, an amused smile curling on his lips.

"You still have a terrible aim," he teased, but Lyanna proved him wrong. She had gathered another handful of snow and this time she had managed to hit Ned's face.

Ned gasped and staggered backwards, landing with his ass on the frozen ground.

It was an empty victory though. No pain she inflicted upon Ned would remove the pesky betrothal with Robert Baratheon.

"My aim is not as bad as you thought, isn't it, dear brother?" she asked and offered her hand to him. She was still angry, but she had taken her revenge and was satisfied with that.

"It seems I was wrong about that," Ned remarked and pulled himself back to his feet. Then he stepped closer and graced her with a soft smile as he brushed her wind-swept hair out of her face.

"You have grown into a beauty," Ned added suddenly. "No wonder Robert asked for your hand in marriage. He told me that he loved you from the first moment he saw you. He would never lie to me about something like that."

"Oh, really?" she asked haughtily. "How much did he love me when he was bedding the mother of his babe? I was probably there in the Eyrie when the babe was conceived, but he never spoke to more than a few sentences nor did he try to get to know me. He doesn't love me, he loves the sister you told him about, but not the true Lyanna."

Ned frowned.

"I only told him only good things about you. I told him how beautiful, kind and charming you are…," he began, but Lyanna couldn't help but to cut him off.

"What about my interests?" she asked. "Did you tell him that I like running about in dirty breeches and that Benjen is secretly teaching me swordplay?

Ned paled and shook his head.

"Of course not. That would be unseemly," he replied and sighed deeply. "You are no longer a little girl, Lyanna. You ought to let go of these childish dreams. Be happy, that father doesn't know these secret lessons."

"Are you going to tell, father?" she asked tauntingly. Ned was always the proper son and she loved him for it, but at times it was also bloody annoying.

"No," Ned replied and frowned again. "I am not going to tell father, because I did not come here to fight, but to seek reconciliation. I understand your misgivings about Robert, but I assure you, sister. Robert is a good man and true and he will love you dearly."

Lyanna sighed and was already feeling exhausted from this fruitless conversation. Ned didn't even to understand her feelings.

"Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature," she replied and crossed her arms in front of her. "The same can be said of women. Robert Baratheon doesn't have need of a woman like me. He has need of a lady, a very forgiving and patient lady, but patience is something I always lacked."

Then she turned around and left him standing there.

She spoke to no one upon her return to the castle and immediately sought out her chambers. She needed peace and time to think.

"Lya, you are finally back," Benjen's voice greeted her as she stepped into her chamber. The sight of her younger brother, seated next to the hearth, filled her with joy. Benjen was always the closest to her heart. He understood her without words. The understanding Ned had denied her she would receive from Benjen.

"Did you send Ned after me?"

Benjen nodded his head in confirmation as he rose to his feet and took in her frozen appearance.

Lyanna smiled and rubbed her hands over the crackling fire, seeking warmth.

"I see," she said softly and sat down on the bear belt, spread over the floor. Then she pulled off her boots and freed her hair from its' braid. It had gotten wet. "Don't fret, I am not angry with you, little brother. What else did I miss? Is father very angry?"

"I don't think so," Benjen replied quietly and sat down next to her, his hand touching her shoulder. "He only said, 'This wolf child will be the death of me' and retired early."

"I am glad," Lyanna lied and kissed Benjen's brow. "That he is not too angry."

"You are not," Benjen said, knowing her true feelings without words. "It is wrong of father to force you into this and I don't want you to go away. I want you to stay here in the North."

Lyanna chuckled sadly and smoothed his brown hair.

"There is nothing we can do, but perhaps Robert Baratheon will allow you to become his squire. Then I could keep you at my side."

Benjen gave her a sad look and shrugged his shoulders.

"Father I think wants to send me to Riverrun to squire for the Blackfish."

"I see," Lyanna said and hugged him again. Then she let go of him and leaned back on the balls of her hand. "Well, at least I won't have to see Robert Baratheon until Brandon's wedding."

"You are very wrong about that, sister," Benjen informed her in a subdued voice. "You will see him soon."

Lyanna furrowed her brows, her stomach twisting.

"How so?"

"There is going to be a grand tourney at Harrenhall. Father wants us to attend in his stead."

Under other circumstances, Lyanna would have been filled with excitement to attend a tourney, but the prospect of meeting Robert Baratheon dimmed her joy.

It seemed not only Ned and her father were plotting to see her wed to the Lord of the Stormlands, but fate as well.

Fuck fate.

…