Author's Note: I do not own Game of Thrones, the TV series, nor do I own George R. 's book series it is based on, A Song of Fire and Ice, or any characters affiliated with these two titles.
Face Claims
Lyra Stark: Adelaide Kane (longer face)
Princess Meria Martell: Emmanuelle Chriqui (Character age-36)
Ashara Dayne: Olivia Holt (Character age-19)
Lord Brandon Stark: Eoin Macken (Character age at death-22)
Princess Arienne Martell: Amber Rose Revah (Character age-22)
Chapter 1: The Heirs to House Stark
Up in the Broken Tower, a young woman let out small grunts as she was being forced to parry the onslaught of attacks from the small lad in front of her. Beginning to smile slightly, the maiden then quickly stopped the look of mirth from creeping onto her face. When she sparred with her cousins, they constantly told her to stop "breaking face" because it gave her away when she knew she was about to defeat her opponent.
Waiting for the inevitable parry at the top near her head, the maiden smiled before literally breaking the boy's attack; stopping his sword with her own before suddenly, and strongly, breaking his hold. Doing so, she caused the boy to stumble backwards.
"Ah!" the boy was surprised when he fell on his bum. The force of the maiden's parry causing him to fall back and his sparring sword to be thrown from his hands. "Hey! Lyra! I thought you said no breaking this time," the lad told her in a manner so undignified for his highborn birth. In fact, it was so undignified that you'd mistake Bran for any common Northerner.
"You're exactly right Little Lord Brandon Stark!" Lyra playfully japed at her young cousin before pulling herself out of the awkward defensive sword that she had ended the duel with.
Watching Lyra from where he'd landed on the floor, Bran's older cousin straighten herself back up in such a fluid and graceful movement- a movement that he knew could only come from Lyra's eleven years of training everyday with the Sand Snakes or a Master at Arms. Though both of Bran's older brothers, Lyra Stark and Theon Greyjoy had their own unique style of swordplay, Bran would still say that Lyra and Jon were similar in the way they wielded weaponry. Bran's cousin and bastard half-brother both preferred to fight using speed and agility to their advantage, but this was probably due to the fact that both warriors were built more slim and graceful; unlike Robb and Theon, who both preferred to fight in a manner which was similar to Father's.
Walking to where her little cousin had fallen, Lyra added, "Which is why when I say that I won't do something; it usually means that I will be doing that very thing," Lyra advised her young "pupil". Though she knew that it wasn't fair to fight Bran in such a "dishonorable" way, she also knew that in a real sword fight, Bran's opponent would not likely be fighting with honor. Despite the fact that knights fought "honorably" in tourneys, Lyra was acutely aware that when there was no crowd to judge them, those same knights would use every trick to their advantage. Therefore, if Lyra was going to help teach Bran how to fight like a "real" swordsman, then she knew that she needed to act as if she were fighting one of the Sand Snakes.
The Sand Snakes...they were Lyra's sly bastard cousins with almost insatiable bloodlusts; and they most certainly do not fight with what the Northman liked to call"honor". This, in Lyra's opinion, made them better sparring partners than any of the knights in all Seven Kingdoms. Despite being women, Lyra and her bastard cousins still practiced, trained and fought everyday like highborn boys and men; which Lyra supposed was why she could hold her own in a one-on-one duel against Robb, Jon, and Theon.
Sighing inwardly, Bran felt annoyed at his cousin's advice to expect the unexpected. Lyra's swordplay was a hybrid between the Northern and Dornish style, but she tended to favor the latter. While the Northmen were strong and people of the Old Ways, which their swordplay usually reflected; the Dornish were swift and cunning, thus using a style of swordplay that tended to favor this. Even if the Dornish style called for trickery.
Wanting to get on with their session before they were interrupted, Lyra straightened out her black dress. Though spending six moons in Winterfell every year since she was twelve, Lyra still couldn't get used to the Northern style of dress; which is why she usually had her dresses commissioned in Dorne or she made them herself. The dress she was wearing today, though, was a dress she'd made with the specific intent on making it a garment that easy to spar in. Beneath the dress, Lyra wore her dark grey wool shift for warmth, as always. The dress itself was black with a direwolf stitched in grey on her shoulder, and it had low v-neckline, showing her woolen, but finely spun shift with a neckline that ended a finger's length below her collar bone. For additional ease of movement, the dress was made with three large black buttons, which started at the middle of her chest and ended just below her natural waist. To complete the dress decked in the sigil and colors of House Stark, a silver sash was tied at her waist. Then, to top it all off, Lyra wore a silver ring with the Stark dire wolf molded onto it, a silver pendant of a weirwood tree with red leaves and a dire wolf howling at the bottom, in addition to matching earrings of weirwood branches with red leaves. Bran's cousin also usually wore khol eyeliner just like the Dornish, much to Mother's dismay, to protect her eyes from the sun's rays; which could be as harsh in the North as it is in Dorne due to the reflected sunlight on the snow. However, due to the cloudy day and the fact that they would be staying indoors for most of the day, Lyra had skipped her Dornish eyeliner today. This occurred less than half of the time, but it still disappointed Bran and Arya when Lyra didn't wear her eyeliner since they found this to be quite novel. Also, it fascinated the two young Starks in part because Lyra typically painted the liner on in such a way that would make her eyes look like a wolf's.
Picking up the sparing sword, which was lying in front of her, Lyra helped little Bran to his feet before giving it back to him. Seeing her cousin's crestfallen face at falling into her "trap", she reassured him; "Let's go again, practice is the only way you'll get good at spotting traps and such." Throwing back her dark plaited hair, she added, "Again: this time, expect the unexpected and attack where it's unexpected!"
Lowering herself into her sword stance, Lyra waited for Bran's first blow, well, if one could call it that; she doubted that the lad was old enough to hurt her even if he really wanted to. Though she liked giving Bran additional training to the training he received from his older brothers and the Master at Arms, Lyra had to remind herself that she needed to go easy on such a novice, especially one who was only half her size.
Signaling Bran to begin, Lyra got on the defense while he prepared to swing at her. Inwardly groaning in frustration that her cousin wasn't thinking his strategy through before executing it, Lyra watched Bran charge her recklessly. Waiting until the young Stark boy was within distance, Lyra quickly side stepped out of his way a few seconds before his strike could land on her. However, being in such excellent control due to years of practice, she still caught her adorable little cousin before he could hurt himself by crashing into the wall that was previously at her back.
Laughing as she steadied Bran; "Now I know that you know what went wrong with that—whatever you call it!" Lyra couldn't help herself from laughing. Bran and her had been at this for a while now, and Lyra could even feel a little sweat trickling down her back. It seemed that the more frustrated he became, the more sweaty she became. What worried her though was that she could sense that little Bran was becoming frustrated with his seeming lack of progress.
"It's called a charge," Bran mumbled his answer to her, "Jon taught me yesterday." Though visibly irritated that the "charge" hadn't worked, Bran brightened at the mention of one of his big brothers teaching him a move.
The warmth and affection that creeped onto Bran's face at the mentioning of Jon warmed Lyra's heart. The Starks were such a loving family and the younger ones tended to look up to their older siblings, who tried to teach them as much as they could about everything they knew.
Smiling cheekily, Bran added to his older cousin, "He told me that I should use it on you!"
Ruffling little Brann's red-brown hair, Lyra retorted, "He did, did he? Well! We shall have to see how he fares against me later this afternoon!" She declared rather grandly.
Though Lady Stark had banned all public display of Lyra's martial skills, the older Stark cousins, and even Theon, all managed to make time to spar against Lyra at least one of them everyday, much to the younger Starks' delight. Little Bran, Rickon, and Arya enjoyed watching their cousin's mixed Northern and Dornish martial style in a duel against their older brothers and Theon. Sansa would occasionally observe with utmost attention as well before telling Lyra that it was unlady-like of her to carry a sword to begin with, let alone to be sparing with noblemen.
Like her mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, Sansa also abhorred the fact that Lyra Stark, who was still technically a Lady, carried a sword and knew how to use it. However, Lyra was not being fostered with the Starks, instead, she was their yearly guest; thus, Lady Stark could abhor her decision to practice swordplay, but she couldn't ban her niece from doing so all together without Lord Stark's command and Prince Doran Martell's agreement since Lyra was under the protection of her mother's house until her marriage. Besides, Lyra's lord uncle, Ned, found her talent and unique swordplay to be amusing if she wasn't mistaken; Lord Ned Stark would often watch Lyra spar with his sons and ward, all the while he would be smiling and laughing as they practiced. More that once, Uncle Ned would tell Lyra how proud Brandon would be of his daughter for having "wolf blood" in her, which is what Uncle Ned attributed to Lyra's desire to fight. He would also tell her of how he thinks that if her aunt, Lyanna Stark, was still alive, Lyra and Arya would probably be her favorite nieces because of their love for swordplay and archery over the more feminine pursuits.
Ever since Robb turned fourteen years though, he's avoided sparing with Lyra ever since. When Lyra confronted him on the matter and asked the heir to Winterfell as to the reason why, his response was that she was his betrothed; thus, it felt wrong for him to spar with her anymore now that she was a lady, who was soon to be his lady, and that he was reaching manhood. This made Lyra angrier than a cornered scorpion and made her wish that Uncle Ned, Mother and Prince Doran hadn't agreed to a marriage between her and Robb. However, Lyra supposed that for the sake of political stability, which is still quite fragile in the Seven Kingdoms, the betrothal is a good idea.
During the start of Robert's Rebellion, Lyra's mother, Princess Meria Martell, tried to garner support from the Northmen in Lyra's name as Lord Brandon Stark's only heir. Unfortunatley for them though, Meria and the rest of the Martells underestimated the loyalty of the Northmen, of whom, save for Houses Bolton and Karstark, declared Ned Stark as their liege lord instead of the heir of Lord Rickard Stark's heir. The line of succession for lordship felt quite complicated for Lyra compared to Dorne; but Lyra knew that Ned was favored over her because Mother's house fought for the Crown, and the succession tended to favor men over women in the North. Therefore, since Uncle Ned's supporters outnumbered a four-year old Lyra's, Princess Meria begrudgingly sailed for Dorne.
The Martells, who fought for the Crown since Princess Elia Martell was the wife of Prince Rhaegar, feared Meria being stuck in the North; which is why Lyra's grandmother ordered Mother back to Dorne with Lyra where they could be surrounded and protected by loyal family. However, Meria never gave up on Lyra's claim to Winterfell as she was expecting the rebel forces to lose. Unfortunately though, her expectations fell through when Prince Rhaegar was killed at the Trident, and her hopes dashed after the Sacking of King's Landing by Lord Tywin Lannister.
Though the majority of the North ultimately held Uncle Ned's claim to Winterfell over Lyra's, Lord Jon Arryn claimed that there was still the potential for Dorne to help Lyra claim the traditional House Stark seat in Winterfell. In fact, he even warned Uncle Ned and Robert Baratheon that this potential for great political turmoil would increase if the remaining Targaryens ever attempted to re-take the Iron Throne. Therefore, to solve these potentially devastating problems, as well as to bring Dorne back to the kingdoms peacefully, Jon Arryn advised Uncle Ned to betroth Brandon's heir to the new heir to Winterfell under King Robert I's reign.
Lyra was six years when the Rebellion ended, and eight years when Jon Arryn, the new Hand of the King, rode to Dorne under peace banners with Uncle Ned to start negotiations. During this time, Lyra remained in Sunspear with Prince Oberyn, who was made the acting Prince of Dorne, while the newly titled Ruling Prince of Dorne, Prince Doran Martell, and Princess Meria rode to Wyl. Now, being eighteen years, Lyra sadly remembered very little of all of this.
All Lyra remembers now is traveling to Winterfell when she was ten years, almost eleven, and reuniting with her Stark family for the formal betrothal between herself and nine year old Robb. Lyra remembers initially being upset with the whole ordeal; not only did she have to marry her cousin, whose father was and is the best friend as well as the foster brother of the Usurper, but her betrothed was almost two years younger than she. Due to these factors, it took Lyra and Robb many years to establish a romance.
Up until Lyra was fifteen, Robb and Jon, and later, Theon, were only interested in sparing and practicing archery with her, but after Robb turned fourteen, he suddenly stopped calling her "horse face" and began courting her. Lyra didn't know how to react at first because Robb had only shown her how disinterested he was in their future marriage. Fortunatly though, Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat had picked up on her confusion and inability to respond to Robb appropriately; after a private talk with her aunt and uncle, who revealed that Robb was reaching manhood, and he was thus beginning to take interest in maidens, Lyra began to awkwardly, at first, respond positively to Robb's unrefined flirtations. Now, as Lyra is soon to be nineteen and Robb seventeen, flirtation is a regular occurance between them and they are looking forward to their wedding.
Telling Bran that sword practice was over for the day, Lyra hid the practice swords in their usual place. She then searched for her sword belt and put on Night's Queen; a short, thin curved blade designed for a woman to use it, and yet so easily concealed in Lyra's cloaks. As she began to pull on her dark grey cloak trimmed in light grey furs to go outside to the courtyard with Bran, Maester Luwin came in.
"Lady Lyra, don't forget about today's lesson with Bran-by the Gods!" The Maester of Winterfell looked as if he had just caught Lyra and Robb in an inappropriate position...again.
Shutting the door and lowering his voice, Maester Luwin told Lyra, "I understand that things are done differently in Dorne, and you are well within your rights to carry steel if you so wish; but please try to remember that you will be the future Lady Stark of Winterfell in only a year," the old man reminded her. "And above all, this sort of thing is deemed inappropriate for ladies by Lady Stark and it upsets her to see you doing it." The master finished, slightly scolding Lyra. Though she generally liked Luwin, she found him to be quite a thorn in her side when it came to sparring.
After calming Luwin down by assuring him that she was only giving Bran a lesson in Dornish swordplay and that none of Aunt Cat's rules regarding sparing had not been broken, he reminded Lyra that King Robert would arrive any day. He then also reminded her that it was she who was to teach Bran his lesson over the Targaryens that day, since Luwin was too busy with helping Lady Stark prepare for their royal guests.
Looking at Bran, Lyra felt a little sorry for him his face was lit up with excitement until he was reminded of his unfinished lesson. The lad had too much energy for his little body to contain! Thinking for a moment while Bran readied to go, Lyra came up with an idea that may satisfy Bran and the maester both. Reminding Luwin of her book on the Targaryen dragons, which was gifted to her by Rhaegar himself, she asked if it was okay to teach Brann's lesson with it. In fact, Lyra even went so far as to argue that teaching with this book might actually be deemed more appropriate.
Hearing the future Lady Stark out and looking at Bran's face, which lit up again at the mention of the red leather tome, Maester Luwin relented to the request. However, the maester would only agree to this if Lyra promised to cover all of the dragons from Aegon the conqueror to the last living Targeryen dragon. After swearing that she would do as he asked, Luwin seemed satisfied and left the tower to continue helping Aunt Cat.
After Maester Luwin left, Bran looked up at Lyra brightly; "Really?! I get to learn about dragons from one of Prince Rhaegar's books?! A book the last dragon himself used to learn about dragons!"
Leading Bran out the door of the tower, Lyra smiled at his excitement. "Of course you do!" She winked. "Who's the best cousin in Westros?" She asked little Bran with mirth in her voice.
"You're the best cousin in the world, Lyra!" Bran exclaimed as they walked to Lyra's chamber to retrieve the book.
Taking a short break to look out the window, Lady Catelyn Stark closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. She saw Bran in the courtyard with Lyra, who had her red book about Targeryen Dragons in her lap. Both of them disheveled looking. Cat had told Lyra not to practice swordplay in public, but Ned always allowed it for so long as it was kept private, sometimes he even encouraged it much to Cat's ire.
Is it private anymore if everyone knows where you practice and when you've just finished? Cat mused to herself. Just then, Maester Luwin emerged with documents regarding House Stark's stores.
As the maester was trying to tell Cat how much food and drink they had, she interrupted him to ask a question. She wanted to know Luwin's opinion on her future daughter in law as the future Lady Stark and wife to her first born child.
"Despite being more Dornish than Northman, I believe that Lady Lyra will make a fine Lady Stark. She's already successfully courted the other Northern houses, she's well versed in Northern history and culture, and she knows how to run a household," Luwin replied with confidence. Since Lyra was a little girl, her bright mind and her ability to retain and use the wealth of knowledge she read in his library had been evident to him.
"I know all of that," Lady Stark told him. "What worries me is all of her other…unique attributes." By "unique attributes", she meant Lyra's talent with swords and other weaponry, among other things.
"You're worried about how her fondness for war and swords, my lady?" Receiving an affirmative nod from his lady, the maester answered; "Dorne is quite a different place, even from the rest of Westros. The Dornish inheritance laws are equal and, generally, any man or woman is welcome to pick up a weapon and learn to fight." Luwin also reminded her that the Warrior Princess Nymeria of the Rhyonar, is responsible for uniting Dorne under House Martell, in addition to integrating a culture of equality and passion.
"I suppose that from your perspective, Lady Stark, Lyra's knowledge of warfare, politics, and martial skills is troublesome and unbecoming of a proper lady outside of Dorne. From another perpective though, Lady Lyra's skill and knowedge in these areas will be quite useful when she is married to Robb." Lady Stark giving him a curious look, so Luwin extrapolated; "These are very unstable times, my lady. Lyra's uncommon skills among ladies indicate that should the North go to war once more, then she can use these talents to help the Northern cause. Though we are currently in times of peace, that peace could easily be shattered, and if it does shatter, then who better for Robb to seek council and confide in than his own lady wife?"
Lady Stark took a moment before admitting that the latter perspective could be quite useful to Robb or House Stark and the North in general. Not to mention the solidified Dornish alliance Robb will enjoy—an alliance we are enjoying right now actually, she thought, remembering the three crates of lemons Prince Doran always sent North with Lyra as an annual gift to House Stark for having her as their guest.
Seeing that Lady Stark's worries were still not put to rest, the maester added, "Robb has shown great interest and fondness for Lyra at the prospect of their upcoming marriage. I even believe that Robb may be falling in love with Lyra already; and from what I've observed over the past few years, Lyra feels the same as Robb. As with many ladies like Lyra, perhaps after birthing a child or two for Robb, her warrior's spirit will wane in order for her spirit of a mother to be born and replace it. She does not have many responsibilities now, but after becoming Lady Stark, Lyra will likely be too busy for sparing and war. Unless, the Gods forbid, Robb should die with a son on Lyra; in that case, we may actually be grateful for her unique abilities as they will no doubt ensure that Winterfell stays with the Starks, including the survival of House Stark." Watching as Lady Stark considered his words with caution, Luwin concluded; "I wouldn't worry too much Lady Stark. Lyra already has a good balance of her warrior's spirit and her duties as the future Lady Stark if you can look past her sword." That seemed to satisfy her.
Mind put at ease by Luwin's trusted and wise opinions, Lady Stark looked out the window wistfully. Looking beyond the battlements and towards the forest, Cat reminisced about catching Robb and Lyra sharing a kiss in a particular clearing during a beautiful summer snow. Robb was fifteen and Lyra had just had her seventeenth name day. That was a good year for them; Robb and Lyra's courtship took off better that Cat or Ned had ever expected. However, the fact that Lyra had finally grown into her long and narrow face that year didn't hurt either, nor did the fact that Lyra was continuing to grow into a more beautiful, exotic maiden as each year passed.
By the Gods, Lyra was certainly an unattractive and awkward girl from the ages of eleven until she was fifteen. However, by the gace of the Old Gods and the New, when Lyra visited at the age of fifteen, she suddenly became quite the exotic beauty. Indeed, Cat was afraid that Lyra would remain awkward and unattractive forever, now, Cat thanked the Gods for blessing her strapping, handsome son with a beautiful maiden. Though Lyra was always olive skinned from the Dornish sun upon her arrival, after a couple of months, her skin always turned creamy fair. That creamy skin was accentuated with her thick, rich almost black hair and warm dark brown doe eyes. That along with her intelligence and ability to be a perfect lady, just like Sansa, when her sword wasn't around made Cat reconsider Lyra as a perfect bride for Robb.
I wonder which Gods Robb and Lyra will marry before. Cat wondered. Though Dorne followed the Seven, including Princess Meria, Lyra had been seen keeping more with the Old Gods than the new, despite being well versed in the Seven Pointed Star, as was the case with Robb. Being born Starks and the future Lord and Lady Stark, Cat supposed that Robb and Lyra would likely be married before the Old Gods at Winterfell. Oh! But Cat also wanted to see Robb married in the sight of the New Gods as well! Perhaps they can do both, she thought. Robb will be eighteen soon, I need to start planning with Meria. Robb and Lyra will be married by next year.
"Lady Stark?"
Maester Luwin snapped Cat from her thoughts and they continued with the inventory.
Lyra often had difficulty concentrating on her lessons at Bran's age, which is why her mother or uncle or the maester would try to teach her in ways that made learning feel more like a game. Bran was too excited for learning much since he discovered that the King and his court would be arriving any day; so Lyra tried to make learning as fun as she could with Bran, which was nothing new anymore. Maester Luwin was too busy with the preparations to give Bran his lessons so that task had fallen on Lyra for a week now. Not that she minded; she read a lot so she knew a lot, which Luwin knew and was why he asked her to do it. Besides, little Bran was so charming she liked teaching him anyways.
First, Lyra let Bran flip through Rhaegar's book for a while before their lesson. It distracted him while she fixed her hair and clothes as well as his. Satisfied that nobody would be able to tell that they were sparing, Lyra collected him from his room and they went to the courtyard. Too excited for the King to stay still, Lyra let Bran hop along a stone hedge while she read to him about the Targaryen Kings and their dragons. They went all the way from Aegon the Conqueror to Aegon III, talking about their reigns and their dragons. They even talked about the precedences each king created for the Crown, why the Faith allowed them to practice incest and take more than one wife, and why they lost their dragons.
Lyra was about to have Bran recite to her about Aegon I sister wives as warriors when Arya came up to them. Robb and Jon were going to teach her and Bran archery. When Lyra told Arya that Bran still needed to recite about Aegon I's sister wives, she looked at her little brother before saying:
"Queen Visenya was Aegon's oldest sister. She rode Vhagar into battle while wielding her Valeryen steel sword, Dark Sister. It is said that Aegon married her for duty, but he married his youngest sister, Rhaenys, out of passion. She rode the dragon Meraxes and died during the First Dornish War. Visenya was the warrior, Rhaenys was the dragonrider; she spent twice as much time on her dragon than her brother and sister, and she only rode into battle. Meraxes was her weapon of choice whereas Visenya wielded Dark Sister."
After Arya finished, Lyra stared at her, exasperated. "I believe that I asked Bran. Not you." At Lyra's scolding, Arya just shrugged her off and asked if Bran could come practice archery now. Defeated, Lyra gave in and told Bran that she would expect him to recite everything to her before tomorrow's lesson. Watching her two young cousins run to the archery range, Lyra thought to herself that Arya should have been born Dornish before closing the red book and heading to her room to put it back in storage.
Robb Stark and Jon Snow were teaching an excited Bran and Arya Stark how to hold a bow and shoot an arrow. Unsurprising to Jon, but shocking to Theon and Robb, Arya was learning faster than her brother.
"Hold the drawn arrow closer to your cheek Bran," Jon advised his little half-brother. Starting to feel as frustrated as Bran with the lack of results, he suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"How's the lesson going?" Lyra asked Jon, who mumbled "not as well as we'd hoped". Laughing at how good a teacher yet how easily frustrated Jon tends to be, Lyra offered; "He's excited for the King's arrival. Don't be too hard on him," she winked at the last part.
Missing the target again, Bran looked down, crestfallen. "Don't worry Bran," Lyra comforted him, "you'll become an excellent marksman one day. You just have to practice everyday like we do."
"When you were ten, you were already winning contests for archery in Dorne," Bran mumbled back, embarrassed. Lyra told him that was all because she began learning to use a bow at the age of six, and Bran was just now learning. "I bet it won't take you four years like it did for me to get the hang of it." That seemed to perk him up enough to keep trying.
Walking over to Robb and Arya, Lyra was quite impressed to see that Arya was already hitting the heads. "You must be a good teacher," Lyra said to Robb after Arya impressively hit one between the eyes.
Just now noticing that his betrothed had arrived to watch, Robb straightened up to look taller. "Maybe," he smiled to Lyra, "But I think this one may have been cheating."
"I haven't been cheating!" Arya retaliated.
"Oh? Then why did you know how to draw the arrow properly before I'd even taught you?" Robb asked mockingly.
"Fine! Jon and Lyra have been teaching me when they're not busy," Arya stated to her brother angrily.
Robb looked at Lyra in shock, to which she responded that it wasn't swordplay, just archery. Everyone should learn to use a bow whether they're young, old, man, or woman.
"Speaking of which, have you been sparing? You look it." Robb asked.
Shit. Lyra had been had. Trying to pretend as if she had no idea what he was getting at, she asked him how he'd know if she was or wasn't.
Shaking his head, Robb told her, "You may have brushed your hair out and straightened your clothes, but—" Leaning down to Lyra's ear, he added, "you always have a nice glow on your face that tells me you've been engaging in some…strenuous activities."
Laughing and pushing Robb's shoulder gently, Lyra asked him how he'd know about when she's engaged in strenuous activities. Smiling mischievously, Robb whispered that he knows because he'd seen a similar glow on her face after a rendezvous in the moonlit forrest. Scoffing, Lyra was going to tell him that he had no idea what he was talking about before Arya decided to butt in.
"Did I do well Lyra?!" She asked excitedly.
Looking at her target, Lyra was indeed quite impressed. "You might actually have a talent for archery."
Arya couldn't hold back her smile. She admired Lyra for spurning propriety to pursue her martial talents. Not surpsiing considering that Arya's heroes from history are Nymeria and Visenya. "Will you train me more? Please!"
"Mmmm…I don't think your mother would like that. Best stick with Robb or Jon." Lyra was already pushing boundaries by teaching Bran swordplay.
Arya's mouth dropped in disappointment. "But you're the best!"
"On about this again are we?" Jon asked his youngest sister, clearly exasperated.
"Do I hear the sounds of an archery contest beginning?" Theon suddenly showed up, a skin of ale in hand.
"Why? Do you plan to lose, Theon?" Robb mocked.
"Oh no! I'm not competing, you three are," he motioned at Jon, Robb, and Lyra.
At Theon's suggestion, the three of them looked at each other with the spirit of competition blazing in their eyes. The four older children were already quite competitive with each other, which is why they usually had so many contests.
Retrieving the bow from Arya, Lyra went to the target and retrieved the arrows. "I'll do it if you two will," she told Jon and Robb. "That is, unless you're too afraid of losing to a girl." At that, the contest was on. Lyra knew exactly how to goad Jon and Robb.
Having Arya judge Robb, Theon judge Lyra, and Bran judge Jon, each judge was to count how many shots their archers accurately hit. The contest began with Theon telling everyone to aim for the right shoulders. Next up was the left shoulder, between the eyes, the throat, the heart, the forhead, the belly, the balls, left eye, and then right eye.
Robb, Lyra, and Jon waited for the judges to finish counting. Jon and Lyra tied, but Robb won the contest.
"See? I told you Robb was better than he lets on," Lyra told a pouting Arya. Truth be told though, Robb seemed to be the best at everything, even Jon agreed with that sentiment.
"Arya! Arya! It's time for your lessons!" Septa Mordane called.
Growling in frustration, Arya told everyone bye before leaving to her lessons with the septa. Lyra pitied Arya; the little girl did not excel in the feminine pursuits like her older sister, Sansa. Although Lyra herself was competent in these traditional feminine arts as well, she was also happy that she no longer had to go to these lessons when she was sixteen years.
After everyone had settled back down, Robb and Jon continued their lesson with Bran. Lyra, growing bored, asked Theon if he'd share his ale with her. Already intoxicated, Theon replied "of course" and held out his arm to her. Taking Theon's arm, Lyra and he walked up the steps to the platform that overlooked the archery range.
Handing Lyra the ale, she downed the rest of it, to which Theon asked her if she had a rouge day. "No," she replied, but she was growing stressed by the day waiting for King Robert I arrival.
Leaning against the wooden platform, Theon understood. He was dreading the King's visit as much as Lyra. Neither of them wanted to see Robert because their families fought against him, but they were going to have to accept that he was coming and be gracious about it.
Every so often, Robb would act like something Lyra and Greyjoy said had distracted him, only to smile with embarrassment upon being caught. Though being Dornish, and thus, Lyra was not sheltered from sex, those looks Robb gave her could still make her face heat at times.
"Someone's getting a little red," Theon japed at Lyra.
"I am not," she retorted, trying her best to look disinterested.
"Say what you will," Theon said more to himself. "Miracle that it's happening at all," he mumbled.
Lord and Lady Stark soon joined them at the platform to watch the Stark children. Upon observing, Lyra's Lord uncle, Ned Stark, let out a hearty laugh; "Reminds me of when your father and I were teaching Benjen to shoot," he said to everyone, but looking at Lyra. "Your aunt Lyanna even used to watch from the spot you're standing in now. Except, she didn't have handsome lads throwing glances at her like you do," he added almost wistfully.
"Lord Stark," Rodrick Cassel walked up the platform. "Lady Stark," he acknowledged. "A deserter from the Night's Watch."
As soon as Rodrick spoke of the deserter, Ned's "Lord Stark" face replaced his Uncle Ned demeanor. "Get the boys, and tell Bran he's coming too." Lady Stark tried to argue, but Ned reminded her that this was the North and Winter is coming. Watching her husband walk down the platform, Aunt Cat look at Bran with pity. She felt that a boy of his age and demeanor shouldn't see such things yet.
Excusing herself from Lady Stark's presence, Lyra followed her uncle down the platform. Catching up to her lord uncle below, Lyra asked to come along as well.
"This is no place for a lady, Lyra," Ned told her firmly.
"I know that it's not," she agreed with her uncle. "But if I'm going to be Lady Stark one day, then I need to know how it's done. What if Robb dies and I have to teach my sons?"
"Lyra…"
"You know me Lord Stark. If Robb ever went to war and I had to hold Winterfell for him, I would feel obligated to perform the executions myself as Brandon Stark's only heir," Lyra argued. She didn't want to be left out.
Lord Stark sighed, not wanting to argue. "You can come, but no tears. No breaking face. If you do, then you'll never be allowed to see another so long as I'm Lord of Winterfell."
Nodding her head, Lyra ran to the stables to ready her horse.
"L-lord Stark! But she—She's a bloody woman!" Theon objected as they rode to the execution.
"Yes, and this bloody woman has probably seen more executions than you have! Did you know that we still draw and quarter and disembowel in Dorne? Exciting." Lyra told him dryly.
As she put on her gloves to ride, Lyra noticed her betrothed give her an expectant look as he readied to get on his own horse. Feeling exasperated with the Starks and their strange opinions that women can't sword fight, Lyra got on her horse and rode up to Robb.
"You know, like it or not, if you leave for war or court, then I'm in charge as acting Lady of Winterfell. It will take a while for our sons to even be old enough to weild a sword, let alone carry out a proper execution," she tried to soothe her betrothed.
"No, Lyra, you don't have to carry them out even if that happens. That's why we had men to do for my mother during those times. Besides, you'll be Lady Stark; it's not expected of you." Robb was trying to avoid the inevitable argument that usually occurred when he disapproved of something Lyra regularly did in Dorne.
"Not expected of me?!" Lyra pulled her horse to a halt. All she could do was stare at Robb for a moment, incredulously. "My father was Brandon Stark of Winterfell and I am his heir. His sole heir." Blowing stray hairs from her face, she added more softly and with dignity, "I am a Stark as much as you, love. In addition to being my father's sole heir, I would argue that it would be, in fact, quite expected of me to adhere to and carry on The Old Way." This always drove Lyra mad; when the lads thought she was less a Northerner and an heir to Brandon Stark of Winterfell simply due to her gender. Even worse! Sometimes they believed that her honed skills with a sword was inherently lesser and a wasted talent due to her being a woman!
