The sun rose over the tall and sturdy towers of Winterfell-the cool Northern breeze rustling the leaves of the nearby Weirwood tree as the air floated through the ancient Godswood on it's way towards the North, far beyond the wall. This year was to be known as the Year of False Spring-which made the Northerners chuckle as to them it was either bitter cold winter or slightly warm spring-never hotter and never in between.

The good people of Winterfell proper-those who worked and lived inside it's massive and protective walls-had already been up since dawn. They hustled about, readying the castle for the day and what a day it would be. Eddard Stark-second oldest son to Lord Rickard Stark-was on his way home for a visit from his foster-ship in the Vale with the good Jon Arryn. Eddard was but a mere sixteen but already he held himself as that of a man.

Eddard, or Ned as his close family and friends called him, was on his way home to Winterfell, not only for the purpose of a much needed visit, but he also carried a parcel on his person that was addressed to his father. Ned was being fostered alongside the heir to House Baratheon, Robert Baratheon. The two had become fast friends and now were like brothers, even though each had their own siblings to contend with.

Robert, who was now Head of House Baratheon after a terrible tragedy that killed both of his parents in a shipwreck, had always been there for Ned and helped the younger lad when he had shown up in the Vale. The boys had become inseparable-Robert had even accompanied Ned home to Winterfell the summer before and that was where Lord Robert first saw who he deemed to be the love of his life.

Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell had always been described as a great Northern beauty. With long deep chestnut brown hair that curled around her soft and pale features, lips that stayed a deep pink and would deepen to a robust rose red color in the winter-Lyanna was a great beauty. There was more to her, however-there was a wildness that longed to be tamed and Robert knew upon first seeing the wild wolf girl that he would be the one to tame her.

Ned could only smile to himself-Lyanna was all Robert could be heard talking about over the past year and yet that didn't stop Ned's greatest friend from warming the bed of a Vale tavern wench and now he had a bastard daughter to remember her by. Ned loved Robert and he knew that a marriage between his loud and lewd best friend and his sister would be a great political match. Which was his reason for arriving home to Winterfell.

Kneeing his horse forward, Ned's smile only grew as he crested the hill and before him sat the beautiful and mysterious Winterfell castle. A large grey stoned building, with walls surrounding it on all sides and a large oak gate the for now stood open. Winterfell was the Northern most steadfast against the Wildlings that lived beyond the wall and in the forests just between his home and the legendary fortress. His father Rickard was known as the Warden of the North-the great protector of the people and someone to be feared.

A loud clanging could be heard from inside and Ned could only imagine that his eldest brother, Brandon and his youngest sibling Benjen were in the courtyard, close to the armory, sparing with dulled swords. The breeze that had seemed to follow him North from the Vale ruffled Ned's hair as he passed through the large gates and nodded his head to the guards before pushing his horse over the thick wood of the drawbridge.

Ah home-at least for a fortnight before Ned was due back at the Vale. People were milling about in the courtyard-mostly women of the castle hanging up laundry and linens to dry while the men worked to repair armor and weaponry before the summer began. The wood of the drawbridge gave way to ancient flagstones, half buried in dirt from years and years of foot traffic. Winterfell was old-one of the oldest and greatest keeps in Westeros and sometimes it showed it's age.

To Ned's right came the gate to the Godswood-a place that Ned would find peace and quiet as soon as he made his way over to the horsekeep. Something caught his attention however as Ned entered the main courtyard and as he looked towards the two figures dodging around and slashing their swords at one another, he could not help but shake his head disapprovingly.

It was not Brandon and Benjen who he had heard practicing on his way in. No, instead Ned stared down at his sister, Lyanna, as she spared with little Benjen. The girl, wild in her movements, had donned a pair of his old breeches, tying the top with a bit of rope to make it so they would not slide down her hips. Lyanna was but a mere fifteen and yet as Ned observed her he couldn't help but think that she fought like a man would.

Loud grunts escaped her mouth as the girl dipped and dove around her younger brother and Ned again only shook his head before disembarking from his horse and coming up from behind his sister. One arm wrapped around her slim waist, while Ned's free hand grabbed the sword out of Lyanna's right hand. He picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and swiftly let the now outraged girl down on to her feet.

"Ned! How dare you interrupt us!" Lyanna said, her hands resting on her hips and for a moment Ned only saw their mother, Lyarra, standing before them. Lyanna had their mother's eyes-as did Ned-grey and capable of striking down a person with only a mere glance.

"Yeah!" Piped up Benjen, a young twelve year old who, like Brandon, favored their father. Both boys had lighter brown, almost auburn hair and Benjen had somehow managed to get blue eyes instead of the usual Stark grey.

"Oh come on Ned-they were only having a bit of fun!" Someone called from behind him and Ned only sighed heavily as he whirled around and found his eldest brother Brandon standing on the bridge above them.

"Fun until Lyanna chops Ben's arm off." Ned stated seriously, but the corners of his mouth twitched up in to a slight smile. Ned was the most serious out of the four and honestly he liked it that way.

"I would do no such thing! Really Ned did you travel all the way up from the Eyrie just to spoil our fun?" Lyanna smirked at her older brother as she tried to reach around him to grab her sword out of his grasp. Ned only held on tighter and smiled down at his younger sister.

She looked so much like their mother-thin face, thin frame, but there was a fire that burned in her eyes. Lyanna was referred to as wolf-blooded by their father-a trait that he claimed she and Brandon both got from their mother. Ned was much like Rickard-hard eyed and serious tempered. Lyanna was tall for a girl-the top of her head nearly reaching under his chin and yet she moved with such grace. She wasn't a Southern beauty by any means, but Lyanna's spirit and giving heart made her a great beauty among the people of the North.

"Actually I came for a quick visit and I have something to discuss with father." Ned said as he handed the sword back to his sister and made his way off towards the Great Keep.

"Such as?" Lyanna asked, her sword forgotten as she nipped at his heels. Benjen stayed behind, a loud clanging noise coming about as he continued to practice against the metal post in the corner of the yard.

"You'll find out soon enough." Ned said, smiling as Lyanna only stuck her tongue out at him and wove her arm through his. They were best friends, only just under two years apart in age and Ned had to keep himself resolved to not tell Lyanna the news he brought before they saw their father.

The siblings grew silent as they entered the Great Keep, the stone walls with the heated spring water running behind them a welcome sight to Ned's eyes. Torches lit their way, their boots clicking against the rough flagstone floor as their shorter and lighter Spring capes swished around their shoulders, the edges flicking against the stone walls. It was the music of the North and something only a true Northerner could appreciate and miss.

The pair took a left and found themselves entering the high ceilinged room where their father did most of his business. He sat at a long rectangle table, the massive wood top covered in parchment documents that their father kept looking over one by one as he mumbled to himself. Rickard Stark was a busy man-he had a small city to run and the entire North to protect and watch over.

Westeros had been lucky-their winters had been short and it was believed that a long summer was on it's way in, which would prove good for all involved.

Ned and Lyanna stood before their father, watching silently as he moved around documents and stood still as he murmured something to Maester Walys before finally looking up and acknowledging that two of his four children stood before him. Ned stayed silent, but noticed that their father was staring right at Lyanna, one eyebrow raised in disapproval as he took in her leather breeches.

"Eddard-home from the clutches of Jon Arryn. How was the ride home my son?" Rickard asked as he stood, his hands on his hips as he stretched his aging back before embracing his second son with the hearty clap on a shoulder.

"It was good father-warm and only a hint of winter chill as I reached Moat Cailin. It seems winter had finally left us." Ned said as he looked at his father and then off towards his sister. Lyanna was only standing there, her hands held together behind her back as she took the men in with silent reverence.

"Lyanna-my dear girl-I think it would be more proper for you to head off to your chambers and don something a little less like something Benjen would wear. We'll be dining soon..." Rickard said with a smile on his lips but his stone eyes said much, much more.

"Of course father." Lyanna said, bowing slightly before turning on her heel and disappearing around the corner.

It wasn't fair! Lyanna was the only girl in the entire castle-why did it matter if she looked presentable or not? Instead of walking off towards her chambers, Lyanna crouched low, staying out of sight but within earshot of what Ned and her father were getting ready to discuss. It was odd that Ned would return home out of the blue-no raven sent and it wasn't yet summer, which was usually when the serious faced Stark showed back up. It was milder in the Vale, which was the summer home to Jon Arryn, warden of the East.

Lyanna could barely hear what they were saying, but she perked up at the mention of her name. It wasn't clear though, but her heart was racing as she could swear that she heard Ned say something about marriage. That was the very last thing Lyanna wanted-it was the farthest thing from her mind at her age and honestly she didn't understand the need to be married off. Brandon was to be named Lord of Winterfell when the time came-any reason for Lyanna to wed would only serve as a political move.

The voices stopped and Lyanna began to move off towards her chambers as she heard the clicking of boots on the stone floor. She didn't want to be caught-if there was anything her father hated more than her wearing breeches it was the fact that Lyanna was a terrible snoop. Suddenly both Ned and her father rounded the corner, their heads together as they kept speaking of things that she longed to be privy to.

One thing Lyanna noticed was the long scroll of parchment that her father clutched in one hand, the scratchy writing too poor for her to make out at such a long distance. If she really were to be married off and the handwriting was anything to go by from her future betrothed-Lyanna was certain that she was to marry a man of little patience and impulsive actions.

With a huff and a turn of her heel, Lyanna did as she was told and headed off to her chambers where she would dress for dinner and only hope and pray to the Old Gods that she was mistaken in what she heard the two men discussing in hushed tones.