The human brain is a marvel. Just 3 pounds in weight and a treasury of memories and experiences stored within. Complete with timing, setting and the feelings related to the particular ones. I believe its human nature to archive the worst ones on the top. Playing it in our heads vividly, whenever a specific sad incident triggers it. Every time a person woes his misfotune, he recalls all the other times he was slighted, disheartening us further but also making us realize its not the only time we'll ever feel this way nor it will be the last. Our brain is considerate like that.

I say my first one, and believe me it was the first of many, is a blessing and a curse. Blessing because it helped me grow up and a curse because it helped me grow away from my brothers as well. Look at me, reciting my woes like a pathetic female. What a cliché. This is not a sad story or memoirs of a woman scorned. No, but it is my story. I do not wish for labels nor do I regret a single day in my life. As I said, I grew up with my experiences.

I am Lyanna Elizabeth Stark, third child and the only daughter of Lord Rickard Stark, The Marques of Winterfell. Sister to Brandon Louise Stark, the wild heir, Eddard Philip Stark, the quiet one and Benjen Marcus Stark, the pup. That being my only identity my whole life- has never been overshadowed by my person and probably never will be. We live in a world made by men, for men. God forbid any termagant female crosses the arbitrary line which they have drawn for us.

Ever since I could remember, my older brother was an imperial part of my life. Courageous and chivalrous: he could do no wrong in my eyes. In my small universe, there was only one Marquees, my father and only one Viscount, my brother. They even looked alike. Tall, topped with a dark brown mane. I call it that because our family was blessed with thick luscious hair. Broad shouldered: I remember riding those shoulders when Heaven knows it wasn't an easy feat but they did it only because I demanded it. I remember my brother's teasing as well as his naughty practical jokes. But when and how the teasing turned into bitter cruelty... I can't tell. I do remember when his endearments for me turned into hurtful name calling and his encouragement became resentment. I blamed his departure to Eton and his companionship and took it upon my tiny shoulders to make him see me again. Change is always hard for a child and my brother's character turn about was just as confusing for me if i was ever forced to believe I was not a Stark.

Determined to squelch this confusion I started following him around more than usual. I got caught more than not, and when I did I got a good biff behind the head. First I noticed the drinking then his crude speech, accompanied by his arrogant and highhanded behavior with the servants and lastly the wenching, which I didn't know actually meant coitus at the time. More than once I've seen him corner Wylla, our parlour maid, and take her to a room. At one time I saw her shake her head at his advances, he was still not deterred. He twisted her arm in anger but unexpectedly she laughed out loud and whispered something to him making him push her back in a darkened alcove. She saw me first, just standing there and scowling at them.

"Get lost, Lia. And keep that fat snout of yours shut in from of anyone"

"I don't have a snout." I insisted while palming my nose.

To which he laughed, "Have you seen the mirror lately? Ugly little trolls like you do have snouts. Now go invade the pantry or something."

I did just that only because Nan took me there after she found me crying in my wardrobe. She fed me sweets, and told me "You are what you eat, lamb. And you're my sweetest little girl." Smiling, I asked the cook to make extra special cupcakes for my brothers.

Ben wolfed the whole thing in one bite.

Ned smiled thinly in gratitude.

And Bran, sigh* "You spared your food to share?" Laughter then he plucked it from my hand, "But I don't eat shite that little cows eat." Smudged it on my head. It took 2 hours of a clucking Nan to wash my hair clean.

See? Many worst memories. One of them being the last day I followed my brother out of love. All for what? To catch a glimpse of Robert Baratheon, the Earl of Draegastone, heir to the dukedom of Stormend, Ned's best chum and receiver of my heartfelt admiration. He was visiting that summer. Seeing that boy in action while hunting was a chance I wasn't going to forego. Although now the wisdom of hiding in a tree while following a hunting party does seem a bit faulty but that was Robert Baratheon! Whom I always admired even at that young age. He was just so tall and broad like Bran. Perhaps the main reason I admired him was his likeness with my elder brother. He was good at everything, as far as my interests were concerned. Riding, climbing, sprinting, rowing, fishing, hunting and I was sure swimming too but I never saw him swim.

"Lia! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

oh dear God I was found just when Robert was taking aim but he pointed in my direction. I was amazed at that boy's prowess. My 6 year old mind didn't even think far ahead and plan a quiet retreat which might've let some of my dignity intact. I hugged the trunk of the tree, on which I was perched, closely. Thinking foolishly that i was so cleverly hidden. Not anymore anyway.

"Lia!"

Darn it but he didn't let it go nor did he disappear as I strongly wished at the time. I clenched my eyes close. Then surreptitiously cleared my throat and voiced a very reasonable "Meow".

Silence. I had to bite down the urge to lean forward and see what caused it 'Maybe something happened. What if Ned lead them away?' But then I heard the unmistakable guffaws and chortles. Stupid boys. Never was I able to control my temper I snapped, and forgot momentarily that I was hiding. " What?"

"Oh! What's this? A talking little kitten?" My stupid eldest brother Brandon mocked while still laughing.

"I don't know Bran,'tis more likely to be a hellcat." Another peal of obnoxious laughter. Before I could bite my tongue I shouted back,

"If I'm a hellcat Ethan Glover then you're a mangy mutt by how you follow my brother around."

Though I did not care much about society's scruples and the deficiency of polish in my character, it still hurt to be pointed out as an oddity, and I tended to retort as any cornered animal would. By biting back. I didn't understand at the time how I was different from the other girls of my age. I considered myself slightly better than them. With a brain not filled with ribbons and laces and a strength to put even my brothers to shame. Physical strength, that is, which explained how I could climb trees at the age of 6 and thus, my predicament at that moment.

Being the only daughter in a family of 3 strapping sons our society held a lot of expectations under my name, no matter how much unwarranted they were. I wasn't born with urchin capabilities. You see, I am a daughter of an English Marques. A peer of the realm. Starks of Winterfell were one of the oldest families. Our land bordered with the highlands thus gave a lot of tongues a reason to wag about our wild and untamed natures. "It's the Scottish blood." Though these words were practically purred and added charm to my brothers' rakish personalities. But for I, they were tutted in empath for my poor family.

I never understood that. How could they form opinions about me without even knowing me? Why was I subjected to this hypocrisy, when they know and often mention that the men of my family have forever gotten away with anything with their dilly dallying but me... Always under scrutiny..

Later in life I will find out that every woman in the world faces the very same hardship in the name of being the "fairer sex". Do you see the irony in that? Well, I did and probably always will. Cynicism is developed slowly and i believe mine only hardened over time since I didn't have a member of my sex who would have taught me how to soften my words and ignore the hurtful ones hurled at me. My mother died shortly after my younger brother's birth and I didn't exactly have any reliable female relative to fulfill this duty. My distant Scottish Aunts never visited their Sassenach nephews and niece and once or twice when we did they appeared to love me and planned to keep me with them. Which was obviously not fruitful and so I had to arm myself with the said cynicism while growing up.

All that aside, I do not wish to paint myself as a victim. Because I am not and neither do I wish to be. I could say that I am an ordinary English rose, who has waited with an abated breath for her come-out to snag a titled gentleman for marriage. I would be lying. If I say I am a sweet, polite, sweetheart of the ton. Again. Lying. I am anything but sweet. I am outspoken, short-tempered and candid to a fault. I have heard from best sources that I am The Original Wallflower, who"... is destined to be shelved and shall stay there.". I was dubbed the eccentric Spinster Aunt for my future nieces and nephews, by my very own brothers. My looks didn't help antagonize those prophecies either.I listened everything with an air of forced indifference without having anyone to tell how I felt on the inside. Not one soul could fathom that inside this hard veneer lies a heart of a dreamer. One that covets love and affection like a drought ridden plant wants water.

My craving for companionship was what made me follow my brothers everywhere. From tottering in the nursery till I was old enough to know better, I was always like a bad penny to them. It still boggles my mind why I relied on my brothers when they have disappointed me almost every time I needed them. Yet there I was clinging to a tree like a baby monkey desperate for a treat.

"Lyanna, mind your tongue. I will not have you insult my guests."

See? Did he not hear his "guest" call me a hellcat? No.

"He mocked me first!" Now I did swing to reveal myself and saw a smirking Glover. I returned my brother's glare, "I know what you and your cronies call a hellcat, Bran. That redheaded maid may be one but I am not!" Not really. At that time I didn't know what constitutes a "hellcat in the hay" as my brother said but I hoped he wouldn't catch my bluff. He hated whenever I acted less than like a lady and when I copied him. Little did he know- and as long as I have breath in my body, he never will- that I worshipped him. Yet he pushed me away.

Brandon visibly flushed while his friends chuckled. One of them even elbowed him making his embarrassed face contort into one of fury. He is hot-headed like that.

"Damn it, Lyanna. How many times do I have to tell you not to eavesdrop!" He practically shouted, "And how the hell do you know what I meant?"

Instead of revealing my lie I tried another tactic, and recited what my once wet nurse turned nanny, old Nan always said. Well one of the things. "Profanity, Brandon Stark only shows your lack of intelligence. I refuse to listen to the addlepated." I tried to keep a cool face but actually was frantic to find a way down and run back to where I had my WinterRose tied near the creek. That was another secret: me riding a pony at my age, without asking for permission and without a groom. I blanched when I heard his friends laugh again. This will not end well for me.

"I ought to whip you, you damned whelp! Get down so I can tan your hide!" You see, what I said was almost a norm for us but since I said it infront of his henchmen and made them laugh at him, he will make good on his threat without any doubt.

I squeaked and climbed further up when I saw him move forward, "You're just mad I made your friends laugh at you!" Yes, sadly I did say that at the face of my brother's wrath. I was daring like that. "Like you targeted me when you were making moony eyes at Ashara! Now you know how I felt!"

My tiny limbs weren't fast enough, I realized that when he caught me by my ankle. "Moony eyes!?" He was still shouting. "You better shut up Lia before I throttle you!"

I should have realized my brother would soon be out for my blood since I kept on providing fodder for his companions with which they could tease him to Hades and beyond. Sigh* should have kept my mouth shut, I suppose.

I clung to a branch for dear life but he easily plucked me from the tree, strong and tall that he was, and quite easily. I was always small as a child, as in short not gangly. I was very chubby and people never let me forget that. He ran his eyes on Benjen's briches and shirt that I wore, his mouth tightened further. He dropped me on the ground on my bottom. I didn't even wince before he had me by my arm and made me get up. "What the hell are you wearing? How many times do we have to tell you that you shouldn't wear boys' clothing? Look at you!" He shook me hard, "All unkempt and filthy, like a ragamuffin!" He leaned down to my eye level and I deepened my scowl. "You're a girl Lia do what girls do!" He didn't have to cover his embarrassment by hurting me. But he did, with whatever he could manage. But as I said about whenever I was cornered. An eye for an eye.

I snarled like a wildling, "What? Tumble in the hay with you? Like Wylla?" In my own anger's haze, my young mind didnt realize Bran's suddenly burgeoning fury. From the periphery I saw my brother Ned move closer to us. "I know you're stealing from old man Reed. I heard you talk to her about the cock which you lied was yours!" All the boys except my brothers sputtered with boisterous laughter. So far gone was I in my affliction over losing the image that I had of my brother that I didn't know what I was even saying. I heard my brothers talk to each other like that all the time. What was I to do but learn from the people which I thought I was suppose to follow. Not to be conceited, but I was smart beyond my years and a fast learner. I learned by example as any other child would. Since I didn't have a Lady to supervise me and let me observe her mannerism, I had to opt to follow my brother's footsteps.

I didn't see the slap coming nor did I anticipate the ringing in my ears or the laughter that died down immediately.

"Snarling little bitch." He hissed with contempt. His eyes looked so cold.

I opened my mouth to retaliate with my sharp tongue but he slapped me again. Harder this time. I swayed on my tiny feet and felt the explosion of pain on the entire side of my face. Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to urge them away as I was aware of all the eyes on me. That was probably the first time the young lords present there thought that Lyanna Stark was not worth any respect and her pride was inconsequential. My own brother made them think that. My younger self didn't realize it, for I was only focusing on stopping my tears and thinking why would my hero do that to me.

"Christ man, she's a young lady." I faintly heard one of them say. While Ned, my second brother came closer still and pushed Bran, who was huffing like an enraged bull, away from me.

"Bran, she's only 6 and our little sister!" Ned hissed in a low voice. Why he bothered to tell Bran that, I didn't understand but I was sure even then that had it been Ashara Dayne he never would have raised a hand. No gentleman would. My little world crashed down that day and only I heard the mayhem. Bran actually did that? To me? He was the viscount Wolfraine and he used to call me his little wolf cub. I knew he was changing since after he went away for school. Perhaps when he realized his status among his peers and his influence, he decided he should be loved as his due? Without him reciprocating any affection? No matter what my theory regarding his changed demeanor, it happened. Sort of overnight too as I was still reeling from the proof.

Bran laughed bitterly and looked over Ned's shoulder at me. "Lady? Ha. What a goddamned joke. Did you hear her manner of speech? Little troll embarrassed me in front of everyone!" Ned squeezed his shoulder at the expletive in silent rebuke.

"Her manner of speech?" One of them drawled after my brother stopped yelling, I couldn't recognize who, as I clung to Ned's leg, biting my lip to fight back tears. "I wonder where she learns it from, Stark."

Bran angerily pointed at him, "Keep your nose out of where it doesn't belong, little finger."

Turning from Bran, Ned faced me. I couldn't see his face as my vision swam with unshed tears. One or two of them treacherously rolled down my heated cheeks but I quickly wiped them with my sleeve and clenched my jaw tightly and stared back with a rigid spine.

"Lia," his voice sounded strained as well, " come with me."

I didn't want to go with him. Didn't want to see anyone of them ever again. I proved just that as I pushed his hands away and ran from there. Away from traitorous brothers and their jeering friends.

"See? You all have spoiled her rotten."

Away from hurt.

I disappeared behind the trees but not before I heard one of the cronies say, "Whose cock did you put in the wench, Bran? Your gamekeeper's?"

To which my brother grumbled, "Shut your fucking mouth. I should have thrashed the chit more for saying that in front of company."

He didn't even feel remorse that he had hurt me.

I reached my pony, Winter Rose, and tried to climb her but fell everytime. I was blinded by tears and my brother's harshness still rung in my ears. To be thoroughly chastised for the first time is a memorable experience as well as a confusing one. So the next time I slid off Winter, I stayed on the ground and folded myself around my knees and let the tears fall. After a long time when I decided my eyes were dry enough i raised my head and saw a boy sitting in front of me, the same way as I was. I never met Old man Reed's boy before but I knew it was him as his father loved to talk about "his youngest lad". I remembered his name, Howlland Reed. His sad face made me cry again but I held his eyes out of sheer will.

"What?" I sniffed.

"I seen everythin', Lady." I saw he had been holding a shabby handkerchief, waiting for me to finish crying.

"So?" Trying not to break down at the face of his sympathy with bravado, I snapped at him, "Did you eavesdrop?" I remember I learned this word that day from my brother, along with other things, "You want me to tell Papa and kick your Papa out?"

His big blue eyes flinched a bit, "Why'd you do that? I wasna cruel to you."

I didn't have an answer for him, "So? You're saying I should tell on my brother? He's a viscount, you know. He'll be spared but not you, because you're a commoner."

"I know." Bless his little soul, he just nodded in acquiesce.

"You're just the lousy gamekeeper's boy." I sneered at his sage eyes which flashed with hurt before he lowered them on the ground and started running his finger in the dirt. He didn't make a sound.

Shame pooled deep in me and colored my chubby cheeks. Here was a person ready to wipe my tears, sit on the ground with me and offered his wordless warmth and comfort. All that without even knowing me. All that while listening to my jibes. He looked of my age and i was sure he was also a victim of my brothers' superior airs paired with their cruelty. Maybe he seeked companionship with me that day, after feeling a kinship to my pain? I stared at his dusty britches and worn shoes. His gangly frame was covered in a faded shirt which may have seen better days. His short dark brown hair was untamed like mine, but mine was very long thus looked more unseemly. He looked like a smaller and younger version of our game keeper.

I saw rather than hear him sniffle covertly as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He was crying. I made him cry.

I launched myself at him without caring that I too had tears running freely down my cheeks . He looked up, frightened and tried to cower back with his arms ready to shield himself. Later he told me he thought I was going to hit him. He wouldn't have even tried to fight back but just let me be done with him. I hugged him. Clung to him and sobbed obnoxiously while repeating, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I apologize."

Slowly his rigid body relaxed and he started petting my hair like old Nan, "There, there. Hush now. It's alright." It took me a moment to realize that he even used Nan's exact words. I leaned back, while still on my knees and chuckled with my wet face. "You sound like Nan."

He grinned, his nose was still red and his eyes still looked moist, "I saw Nan sayin' that to you. My Da said I wasna allowed to make ya cry and if I saw the lady cry I was to treat you all sweet like. Like how Nan had dun it." He rubbed the inside of his elbow on his eyes and again smiled at me.

"Lady?" I tilted my head.

"You. You're mi'lady." He casually leaned to wipe my tears with that handkerchief as if he had done it so many times. He froze when he realized how presumptuous it might seem. His tiny face became wary as he tried to hand me the kerchief. "Sorry" he mumbled and broke my heart again.

"No. I am sorry. I said bad things to make you go away and hurt you." Fresh tears sprung in my eyes, "I didn't mean it. I heard my brothers say that about your Papa. Please forgive me, Sir." I used my most genuine apology which made him smile.

"Sir? Like a knight?" He stood up and struck a regal pose. Quickly forgetting the subject at hand.

I frowned at him, "Yes. But I said what I say to Papa whenever I have been exceptionally naughty." I was a little bit proud I didn't stutter once with the big word.

Now it was his turn to frown, "Like really really naughty?"

"Yes." I sighed.

"I bet he's ne'er cruel to you. Da says Lord Winterfell is a great man." He again puffed his chest, "I wanna be a knight just like him."

"My father is a Marques not a knight." I pointed out helpfully thinking he should wish to be a Marques rather than a mere knight, as Brandon once called one of his rivals.

He dropped his imaginary sword and looked sheepish, "I canna be a Marques, milady. I was born a commoner."

I thought he took my words too much to heart to even change his aspirations, I stood up too. "I'm so sorry I said it. You can be a marques too, if you want."

"No milady. Da told me too. I canna change mi birth but I can be brave and become a knight."

"'My' birth." I corrected patiently like how Nan did.

"Huh?"

" 'I CAN NOT change MY birth'. I think knights speak properly too." I explained like a good little know-it-all.

"Oh" he smiled bashfully and repeated correctly.

"What else?" He asked.

"Sorry?" I tried to use my untried manners. Had it been my brother I would have snapped a "what?". But I liked he wanted to learn from me and I had the influence to help him learn more.

He grinned, " What else does a knight do?"

We spent the afternoon listing and playing out all what a knight does. I switched from being the damsel in distress to becoming a knight myself. He became a villain when I told him to, a dragon if I insisted and even a wonderful lady's maid- making me fall in a fit of giggles. The one time I became a damsel was at his only bashfully heartfelt request. Just once. Even that to make me something I secretly wished to be or wanted to become when I grow up.

We played to our hearts' desire until we were tired and sweaty. Then when we took a reprieve to catch our breaths, lying on the warm grass and gazed at the trees above, I turned my head to ask him, "Do you really think I'm a lady?"

His answering smile creased his flushed cheeks, "You've always been milady."

The fascination to spend time with my 16 year old brother and his friends from Eton, shriveled into resentment that day. As I said, I was a fast learner. Once burned, twice shy. I never looked forward to seeing my once hero anymore but only to see my real knight. My best friend. My confidant. My make-believe lady's maid. Brother of my heart if not blood. Maybe that day marked the end of any affiliation I had for my brothers but it was also the day of advent of a beautiful friendship.

When I sneaked back home with WinterRose, I was tiptoeing to my room when I heard the laughter and camaraderie of the boys which made me freeze and hide in the shadows until they were out of sight. God but iwas cowering in my own home. As the last one of them entered the green parlor, I sighed with relief and stepped out.

"I knew I saw something lurking in the shadows." A voice called which made me jump and squeak abominably. I whirled to the source and saw one of Ned's friends. None other than, Robert Baratheon. I shouldn't be surprised he saw me from within the shadows. Only Robert Baratheon could do that.

"You frightened me." I whispered as soon as I found my voice.

He smiled, "I apologize." Not looking apologetic one bit.

"You don't mean it." I stared with narrowed eyes quickly forgetting my adoration.

"No, I didn't." He chuckled and came towards me. Robert Baratheon didn't walk or stride or even strut. He swaggered. His was that graceful loselimbed gait that oozed confidence and attested to his cocksure personality. "Because then I might not have witnessed how adorable you look, little Lia."

"Only my family calls me Lia."

"What about friends?"

I averted my eyes in embarrassment and mumbled, "Don't have any." For some reason i didnt mention Howlland to him. Although i was a chatter box when it came to somthing new, i just didn' an older boy who was admired everywhere he went was speaking to me in an amicable manner was enough to floor me. I didn't have the presence of mind to articulate a proper conversation. The day's embarrassment was still fresh on my mind, thinking that he witnessed all that, was humiliating. I tried to edge away in a similar childish fashion but he stepped closer still.

" I admired how you fought back to your brother."

"I didn't do that I was soundly thrashed."

"Oh?" He chuckled again then stared some more and bit his lip while thinking, "Did you really hear your brother talk to the maid like that?"

I ducked my head and nodded.

"Do you know what he meant while talking to her?" He softly asked.

I shook my head.

He stayed silent and then murmured almost in sympathy,"Pity that. It would have been quite charming if you did."

I raised my head then and looked at him flabbergasted, "How come? Bran slapped me for even saying that." I shook my head while thinking, "Who knows what he would have done if I knew what he meant."

"Only because he's your brother."

"You don't mind? You're not angry?" I blinked wide eyed.

"Heavens no. I loved and enjoyed everything you said."

"But... But you're Ned's friend."

"And?" He drawled.

"You're like a brother too." I hastened to explain.

"I thought that too." He regarded me seriously, "Not anymore."

I felt my lower lip quiver, "You don't wish to be my brother because of what I did? I know it."

He stepped closer still and ran his thumb on my lip, "No, mia Lia. I don't wish to be your brother." Now I am sure he practiced that smooth line on a maid or two just to impress her with his Lordship's Italian heritage or just to see if he can beguile a female yet or not. A boy on the cusp of manhood...what else is he to do?

"Why not?" I couldnt hide my dismay. I was too young to understand flirting. I'm sure I didn't even know the word then. Most of the time his words seemed like gibberish to me.

He looked slightly exasperated, "Apparently because you're too young" That was true. He lightly pinched my left cheek, his lips curled at chubbiness, "You're so soft." He whispered. He looked in my eyes again.

"I'm older than Ben."

He smirked, "I know you are, tesoro. But don't you think you have enough brothers?"

"Then, friends?" I inquired hesitantly.

"Certainly. Why not? Let's start with that and later we'll see how this goes on." He leaned down and kissed both of my cheeks and then lightly touched his lips on mine. I quickly stumbled back and covered my mouth and stared at him wide eyed. At that moment I didn't want 'this' to go anywhere.

My childish mind could not comprehend why an older boy would kiss me. I heard a time or two Ashara and Allyria talk about wanting to kiss a certain son of a certain duke. I was uncertain for a long time who. Or my brother's friends. But I was sure Brandon too because whenever they came to visit me they would only ask and talk about the Dashing Viscount Wolfraine. I indulged them and waxed poetic about my eldest brother proudly. I didn't look deep into their exchanged glances and mysterious smiles until Bran decided one day to join us. He saw who I was with and stayed because he liked what he saw. He made them smile and giggle at my expense which was unnecessary really since they started making those noises at the sight of him. He cooed at them softly and won them over charmingly. But I? I found the spectacle disgusting and became even more so when I removed myself from the room and my so-called friends didn't even notice my absence. For their future visits I told our butler Luwin that I never wanted to see them again. From then on I hated everything they liked on principle alone.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and scowled at him. "Don't do that! I don't like it." Then mumbled while rubbing my mouth "Disgusting."

His face darkened at my action, "You, little piggy, find my kiss disgusting?"

I felt the tips of my ears tingle with chagrin. He was Robert Baratheon. I should have happily accepted his kisses and be grateful for his friendship when even my brothers humiliated me. But he looked so domineering that it scared me. "No. I'm just... Well ..." I stammered raking my mind for proper words.

He grated, "You're what?"

I bit my lip and shifted from foot to foot- wishing he was being missed. That someone would call for him. No such luck. So I had to share my insecurity with the object of my childhood admiration? I wasn't ready to do that nor was i going to be able to. I ducked my head again and said what first came to my mind, "I don't know what to think. Just let me go, Sir." My voice getting faint with every word. When he said nothing, I chanced a glance up in his eyes. They regarded me with an intense, narrow and calculating stare.

Since his face was blank I couldn't gauge his reaction but then he nodded and looked at me in a patronizing manner. "Of course you're nothing like those Dayne Misses." Ouch. I already knew i wasnt. I thought then that he shared more than his looks with Bran. "But I thought you would appreciate my attention. I suppose I was wrong. You're just a silly little girl after all."

He turned and made his way towards the parlor without a backward glance- leaving me with a muddled mind. I frowned and shook myself out of a Robert Baratheon induced stupor and dashed upstairs to find Nan and have her clean me up before father could see.

"What happened to your face, lamb?" Nan shrieked the moment I entered my room.

After the time I spent playing with Holland I forgot about my stinging cheeks. But of course nothing escaped Nan's sharp eye. I absently ran my pudgy fingers on one of my cheeks.

"I asked you something, Layanna Elizabeth Stark! You answer me right now!" I'll give you a hint about how I was taught my full name and could never forget it.

I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. Had we been outside, I would have been frantic to keep her quiet. Since my father couldn't hear I left her to shriek in my wake as I walked to the mirror while taking off my clothes.

Woah my cheek was red and blue. I examined it closely and I remember being sad that it wouldn't leave a battle scar. Nan knelt beside me and gently turned me to face her worried face.

"You would not tell it even to your old Nan, Lia?"

I grasped her shoulders and managed a smile, "There's nothing to tell Nan. It'll disappear." Then I became uncertain myself, "Right?"

"Aye." She gently proded on my flesh and examined it herself all the while frowning. "I'll get some ice."

"Nan?" I bit my lip, "I don't want to go down and let Papa see this."

She stared with that assessing look but finally nodded. "Alright."

I quickly entwined my arms around her and whispered, "Thank you."

For the next 4 days I managed to evade everyone, except Nan, Luwin and Howlland. Nan, because I simply could not. Luwin because when Nan asked ice for my use he stormed into my room frantic, just asked "Who?", to which Nan answered with " Who else." I swear even today i don't know how they knew. And Howlland because I seeked him purposely. He made me forget about that day and fussed at me, more so with the passage of time. When I asked Nan why father doesn't miss me she placated me with something about too many young boys and keeping me hidden. I accepted that and didn't miss anyone myself as Howlland kept me occupied.

Icing and the herbal balm helped with the swelling and the bruising. The day when Nan declared it's hardly noticeable that I was ever slapped, earning a bewildered look from me, I decided to finally visit my Papa.

After an hour of vigorous scrubbing and a tear jerking hair unentangling, I was dressed in a frilly dress with my hair left free down my back. That was because I ran from Nan when she turned her back on me to get my shoes. I ran in my socks towards my father's library and skittered to a halt outside of the door and just barged in. I found my father as I knew how I will. Buried elbow deep in paper work and account everything scattered across the grand table, his dark head was bent in concentration over a particular ledger.

I marched right in leaving the big Oak doors open behind me .

"Papa!" I always greeted my father like that.

Without looking up he instructed, "Not now Lyanna, I'm very busy."

Not to be deterred, I crossed my chubby arms over my chest and huffed out a breath. Waiting. Finally he sighed in submission, dropped his work and dragged back his chair to present me his lap with a harassed look. I smiled huge, somehow after managing to climb up I perched myself comfortably on him and hugged him tight, "Good evening, Papa."

I knew I had him when even his forced frown melted away into warmth as he hugged me back, "Good evening, my flower." He kissed my hair. It reminded me of Robert Baratheon's kisses, but I liked Papa's. They reminded me of the warm greenhouse and sweet hot chocolate.

'...little piggy...'

He was right, I needed to stop eating too much. I don't think Allyria drank hot chocolate 2 times a day. Ever. I sighed in dismay making my father to notice.

"Why such sad sighs, sweetheart?" He asked in amusement. "And what have you been doing these past few days? I hardly ever saw you."

I started. I didn't know if I should tell him I wish to boycott my love for hot chocolate because then I was sure he'd ask what gave me the idea and then I would have to regale my interlude with Robert Baratheon and when he called me a piglet. My indecision might have been playing out on my face because he looked more closely and asked, "What's going on in there?" while touching my forehead.

"Oh you know, this and that." I once heard a maid give the same evasive answer to Luwin and got away with it. I hoped I could too.

It made my father chuckle, "Indeed?" He affectionately ran his hand in my soft and long tresses. Crisis averted.

"Mm hmm." I nodded seriously. I couldn't lie directly to my father. I did however omit things which might have proved unsavory. Then I remembered the reason to disturb him today. "Oh! I completely forgot. Papa I met a new friend the other day. He is of my age but shorter than me. He is my knight now." I beamed with enthusiasm.

"Truly?" He asked impressed.

"Yes! He looks just like old man Reed."

"Lyanna." He rebuked mildly.

I smiled sheepishly, "Pardon, Sir. Mr. Reed." He nodded to urge me to go on.

"He told me Mr. Reed thinks you're a great man." Even while telling him my tiny chest puffed up with pride which told him that I agreed wholeheartedly. "Why does he think that, Papa?"

"He does? And you don't?" He teased.

"Of course I do but you know, I'm your daughter. I must think that."

He chuckled wryly, "I'm sorry that you must..."

I cut in with, "Don't be, it's my duty to love you."

He stopped. Then, "I think Mr. Reed is a great man too. He once saved your Papa's life."

"Really? When?" I gasped.

"Yes, sweetheart, and when I served in His Majesty's army. He was my batman." At my confused face he added, "Like what John is now." He was father's valet.

"Why isn't he now?"

"Ah well, he thought he was getting too old to shine my Hessians every night." When I opened my mouth he knew what I was going to say. "No you may not call him 'Old man Reed' because of that." I pouted at that. "Don't you love your Papa?" He waited for my nod. "Then respect the one whom your father does too, Lyanna. In return of saving my life, and quite heroically, he asked for nothing in return, but a request to live his retirement in peace. I offered him the gamekeeper's job at Winterfell. And besides isn't he always kind to you?" I nodded again, "Then return his kindness."

I thank God everyday, that I was blessed with such a wise father. Who took it upon himself to start imparting his knowledge to his children, whether they were recipient or not, at an early age. I also realized that just because my brother looked like my father doesn't mean he was like him. Not even close.

"My knight also said he wants to be a knight just like you. Although I told him you're a Marques of Winterfell. He said he cannot be a Marques since he's a commoner." I barely managed to hide my flinch at those words. "Why can't he be a Marques, Papa?"

"He was right because you have to be born into the title and inherit it from your father. Like I did from your Grandfather and Bran will after me."

"I don't want him to become one." I muttered impetuously.

"And why not?"

I looked at him as if he was addlebrained, "Because then you'll be gone."

"Will you miss your Papa, poppet?" He gave me one of his small warm smiles.

"Of course. Because then..." I stopped and buried my head in his strong chest. I also missed him nodding at someone over my head.

"Then what?"

My voice my muffled in his shirt but I know he understood, "Because then I'll be all alone."

He pulled back and stared at me with a severely thoughtful look, "Everyone has to go one day, flower. Do you not wish for me to meet your Mama again?" He said slowly as if he has to decide something after gauging my reaction. As if to prepare me if anything ever happened to him. Because I remember after that moment on, he always managed to mention the same thing at least once every week.

"She left me too." My voice my sullen.

"With me and Bran and Ned And Ben and Nan." He tickled me on my neck making me squeal loudly with laughter.

"And... And Luwin and Mrs. Ashley and WinterRose." I added while giggling.

My father smiled, "Yes, and they will remain with you and love you even when I'll leave."

Still flushed after being tickled, I grinned at him and ignored the pang I felt at his words, "Papa, I love you."

"I love you more."

"I love you morest!"

As it turned out my father nodded for Ned to come in along with his friends. We both turned to look when Ned cleared his throat. "Sir, my friend Dragaestone, wishes to prolong his stay with us and leave for school with me when our holidays end."

My eyes strayed to Robert Baratheon and saw a faint smile playing on his handsome face as he looked back. The last days were suppose to be the final days of his stay. Then Ned was supposed to leave with him to his country house, along with the rest of my brothers' friends.

He was the epitome of proprietary when he felt my father and Ned turn to look at him. He quickly blanketed his face and stepped forward, " I do not wish to impose on your hospitality, my lord but I hope that you would consider my request."

"It's not a bother dear boy, but what about your family? Surely they too wish to spend some time with you." Papa asked while scratching his chin. I touched his chin too fascinated by his bristled shave and then touched my baby smooth one. Papa stopped to smile at me. I smiled back. I observed that Robert Baratheon witnessed the exchange with a soft wistful look as he murmured, "I believe they shall hardly notice my absence, Sir." He looked a little uncomfortable, "My father decided to travel again to the continent."

"Well then. It's settled already. You're always welcome my boy. Let me just send a missive to your father immediately. I too think Stormend would not mind my harboring his heir." He joked while clearing his desk and nodding in dismissal at the boys.

"Lia, now I really must ask you to leave Papa. As I have more work to do now." He set me down and I decided to find Howlland. "And wear some shoes, Lyanna!" He shouted behind my back. I ran with a smile to do just that, which immediately died when I saw Brandon coming towards me, glued on the either side with a Dayne witch, and his entourage following closely behind. He smiled in an affectionate way, which I think only I knew was fake, "Ah, there you are pretty poppet. Look who I just bumped into? Your friends have come to call upon you." It was a subtle way to make me sit and stay in the drawing room to chaperone them. Maybe the ladies insisted because they were starimg at me pleadingly.

"Oh"

A good sister and a proper young lady would keep up a polite and sweet facade for the world, even when she was slighted by her brother in the most horrendous ways. I took a breath and funny enough even in my turmoil, remembered Nan telling me about "Forgive and Forget". I managed a slight smile, praying it doesn't look too forced and made a show of looking at my shoeless feet and shouted, " Luwin!" I suppose he remembered my request from last time because he immediately appeared infront of me.

I should be the better person. I will be. I looked at Bran's smug face. 'But not today'.

"Luwin, kindly tell " my" guests that I am indisposed right now and cannot entertain them today." I added a deprecating chuckle "Funny I don't remember inviting anyone." With emphasis on all the right places I repeated my father's words which I once heard when our neighbor, a wastrel Baron came to call. I managed to swipe all smiles save one, Robert Baratheon's. Luwin's could not be called a smile but a mere lip twitch on his bland face.

Bran meant to take a step towards me but Luwin straightened to face them and very indiscreetly shielded me. "Unfortunately, Misses Dayne "your friend" is indisposed and sends her regrets." I appreciated his added touch and more than usual snobbish voice.

I peered from behind his leg when my brother laughed awkwardly with barely suppressed anger, "Lyanna always had a peculiar sense of humor. Children, you know? Silly creatures with everything taken as a new form of play." He smiled charmingly at the ladies. My heart clenched thinking, he couldn't even spare a kind word for me with whom he shares his blood and who hero worshipped him ever since she could remember, while fed those girls- who have a different favorite gentleman every week- such sugared words and goes out of his way to make them smile. "Luwin's just indulging her childish whims. He knows his place."

I was going to leave after that. Dramatically of course. Complete with a sniff an an arrogant hair toss. But I. Just. Could. Not. Especially not after that dig at Luwin.

"Yes, he is." I tried for nonchalance for a 6 year old, it worked if Bran's tightened features were any indication. "But I'm not joking." I glided towards the stairs, Luwin right beside me. See? As if he magically knew Bran would not shy back from resorting to force if need be. I always thought Nan and Luwin had magic, appearing when needed, saying what i wanted to hear to calm down and knowing what was wrong. I climbed halfway up but whirled around to loudly address my accomplice.

"Oh and Luwin, please tell Miss Ashara I heard Bran tell his cronies she has a nice set of tits."

"Lyanna!" I ignored Bran's roar, the girls' scandalized gasps and sprinted to my room all the while giggling.

I waited till I heard the unmistakable sounds of a leaving carriage and galloping horses, when I unlocked my door and ventured out. I was skipping to the Library when a hand reached out of the curtain of my favorite window seat and pulled me inside. I shrieked but it was muffled by a hand. I frantically tried to scratch my attacker when I was deposited to the side facing... Robert Baratheon? I stopped my banshee act and cocked my head in confusion. He removed his hand with a chuckle. "I was hoping I could find you. Imagine my luck when my rabbit came skipping unknowingly towards my trap." He smirked.

I just glared while he examined and piched my cheeks and then sullenly decreed, "You are a bad person. You scared me. You always do."

"I'm sorry Mia Lia." He cajoled while mirroring my pout, "But you know I couldn't..."

"I know, I know. 'Couldn't resist'." I finished for him with a scowl. He laughed and leaned to kiss my pout but I evaded him with a harried look. What can I say? I didn't grow old in a week to appreciate kissing and intimacy. He slowly straightened and bit his lip in thought. He always did that.

"I didn't see you for the last 4 days, Lia. Were you evading me?" He sounded angry but cautious. Like talking to a favorite puppy who has been exceptionally naughty.

"You were angry with me." I looked at him with raised eyebrows and settled against the far wall while sitting Indian style on the cushion.

"I was. Very much. I thought to punish you but you vanished and inadvertently punished me instead." He ran a hand in his fashionably cut thick black hair.

"I did?"

He just smiled at me then looked down at his book and shook his head.

"Tell me." I cradled my face in my hands and couldn't help but smile. The 'Robert Baratheon' said I punished him! I wanted to know how.

His lips twitched, "Little minx." I scowled at him. He had a very bad habit of calling me names.

His blue eyes stared intensely at me then settled on the small wrinkle I know always formed between my brows whenever I scowled or frowned. "I'll tell you if you let me kiss away this adorable fold." His finger touched me there.

I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation, "Oh, alright." My resigned tone made him smile and I realized I liked it. After how he looked in the library, I wanted to do that more often. I leaned my head forward. He was acting like a child really. I remember harassing Nan to let me hold little Ben and rain kisses on his cute little face.

But he said, "Come closer."

"No, thank you I'm fine. Just do it."

Now he scowled, "You don't have to make it sound like a chore."

I looked at him and patiently said, "Then don't make it a chore." Then smiled impishly at his stern face.

His nostrils flared and he snatched me up from the cushions and kissed me on my forehead and then on my right cheek , where his lips lingered untill I pushed him back at an arm's length and scolded, "You said one."

"I was making sure if I saw your cheek make a dimple or not." The devil. I knew he did not.

"Well?" I prompted while sitting back.

"It does. Almost in the middle of your right one."

"Not that." I snapped. Honestly, that boy was denser than Bran. "What did I do?"

He leaned against the wall behind him. He sat with his right leg folded on the cushions while the left one was stretched at his side on the floor. "It was my last week and I couldn't find you. I had to extend my stay here hoping to see you more."

"You stayed for me?" I asked bewildered.

"Yes. Doesn't that please you?"

"I don't know. You don't even know me."

He laughed, "Do you even know what I'm going to make you become?"

"Oh I have to answer. I don't know. What?."

"Mine."

"Your what?" I threw my hands in the air with frustration, "And you've got that silly look on your face again, while ordering. Papa says we should always request someone, no matter their age, gender or station."

He frowned at me, "Perhaps I'm not giving you a choice."

I looked at him, hassled, "I don't understand what you're saying. Make sense!"

"That's because you're too young now. You will one day."

"You're not that old either, Robert Baratheon. You're 14 and still a boy." I admonished while pointing at his chest. He looked annoyed when I called him a boy.

He grabbed my hand and tightly clenched his fingers around my tiny wrist. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from wincing . "I'm not a boy. And you won't be a little girl for long. I just don't want you to ever forget me or that what I told you." He released the bruising pressure but pulled me forward and flattened my hand on his bigger one and stared at our hands.

"I think I already belong to my Papa." I told him hesitantly. Now just wishing to get away from him.

"You're his daughter." He grumbled.

"Then what do I have to do as yours?" I finally asked. "Will you make me brush down your horse and polish your shoes?"

He raised my hand, " With these little hands? "

When I nodded, he kissed my soft palm and promised, "Never."

"Then?" I was losing my patience. To have sat there and converse with him was in itself a proof of my self control. No child could sit patiently and try to decipher a pubescent boy's riddled words. It was distressing and boring.

"You have to let me kiss and hold you whenever or wherever I want. You have to write me letters and wait for mine. Accept whatever gift I give you with a smile."

"That's it? It's just like friendship, no?"

"Do you let your friends kiss you?"

I scrunched my nose in distaste, "No. That would be horrid."

"Yes. You'll only accept mine." He gave me tiny kisses all over my face, making me giggle. He smiled holding me against the crook of his elbow, "Liked that, did you?"

"I think I did that to Ben when he was a baby. They're like how Papa kisses me. I like it." I grinned up at him.

"Good."

He placed me beside him and held me with one arm. He handled me like I was his personal doll.

"What if I want to give you a gift? Are you mine too?"

After such a long time, every now and then still when I think about that moment, I remember that he never really answered me. I should have anticipated even then that I was meant to be a forever kind of secret or worse.

Six days of hidden kisses and curious words later, Robert Baratheon left Winterfell for school with my brother Eddard.I enthusiastically waved in goodbye when they sat in the carriage. He just smiled conservatively and waved once then ignored me. It saddened me how inconsequential I seemed to him while my heart had just started budding strong affiliation for him. He was silly in his boyish charm and made me smile every time we were alone. It reminded me how Bran made Ashara laugh. And his persistence made me feel special. I basked under his regard in those moments.

I avoided Bran ever since that Dayne debacle and deliberately got myself lost with Howlland when he was leaving.

"I wish he spends his next holidays away from here."

Howlland looked up from his sword, "Who? I thought ya' liked Robert Baratheon."

"Not him he promised to come back again." Howlland smiled at that. "Bran. I don't want him to come back."

"Dun say it, milady. He still your brother." He came to kneel in front of my scowling face. "I think good lady knights let it go and ignore." He tapped my sword with his, "An' so does you."

" 'So shall you' ", The correction came naturally.

We were playing with sticks while imagining them as legendary swords, like we always did, when I first thought about wanting to learm how to fence. I shared it with Papa. After a little hesitation he agreed to let me, if I would start my lessons with a new governess and promise to behave. I pointed out it was Ben who had cut the last one's braid. He retaliated with how I made him do that. I pouted at him while he waited. Finally when he didn't budge I compromised, because I promised Howlland I'll teach him fencing too after every lesson.

One day Howlland and I were playing by the creek as usual when I met my new governess.