When everyone else was looking frantically for their little sister/daughter/lady in Winterfell or the stables, Brandon went to the godswood. Just as he'd expected, he found her ensconced firmly under a fallen log, mouth twisted in her unhappy way and knees pulled up to her chest. She shot him an annoyed look.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, sitting down, "I didn't bring anyone else. Did I? No. See? You know you've got everyone panicking."

"I know it."

"You know, if you want to play seek-and-find it's generally helpful to let people know first."

"Don't be an idiot, Brandon. I'm not playing anything. I wanted to be by myself. So you can leave."

"Or you'll sulk at me, I know. What's got you in a knot, little sister?"

She ducked further back under the log. "I'm not ready to be married." If Brandon were honest, then he thought Lyanna was a bit young too, even more so for Ned's boisterous friend. But that particular opinion would not be helpful.

"You're not married. Who told you you're married?"

"Don't be dense. Everyone's talking about it. Mostly father, though, about how he hopes I'll make him proud-" She made a face. "I don't want to marry and I don't want to have children and I don't want to leave Winterfell."

"You're betrothed. That's different. You're not going to be married for a while, and something might happen to break it off." Probably not, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He sat up a little straighter. "And he's friends with Ned, anyway. He'll probably let you do most of the stuff you do here just the same. And it's warmer in the south."

"I don't want to be warm." She made a face. "I like the cold. I'm a Stark. I'd melt in the warm."

"You probably would, at that." Brandon frowned sideways at his sister. They had more in common with each other than Ned, or even with Benjen, but sometimes he was reminded of how young Lyanna was. Or at least seemed to be to him. "But it's not for years yet. Maybe you'll become a proper lady between now and then, who knows?"

She laughed, a little, if muffledly, and he felt encouraged. "Now come out. You know it's silly to stay under there. And you're probably getting worms in your hair."

"I don't mind that."

"I do." She emerged from her little cave. "Besides, if you stay there too long you'll turn into some kind of rodent and I can't have a rodent for a sister." He smiled at her, and was slightly encouraged that she smiled back.

"Brandon," she asked, after a short silence, as they started back, "Aren't you anxious about your marriage?"

"No," he said, honestly, "I'm rather looking forward to it, actually. Lady Catelyn has a brother, and a well liked one, at least, so even if she's boring and ugly I can at least talk to him." The muffled noise of amusement he heard enabled more of a smile. "I know she isn't, though. Tully women have a reputation, you know."

Lyanna's eyes were a little wide as she looked up at him – but not far. Lyanna had always been tall for a girl. She looked curious. "What kind of reputation?"

"Now that," Brandon said, "Would be telling," and could barely keep from blushing and laughing both for the look she gave him. They met Benjen and Ned halfway back, and by the time they were close enough to talk Lyanna was sufficiently recovered from her mood to hit Benjen in the head with a dirt-clod, thus starting a truly glorious fight.

Trudging home covered in filth, all four of them grinning ear to ear, Brandon knew there would be consequences, but couldn't get the spring out of his step. It was worth it. Looking sideways at his younger siblings, he'd never been prouder just to be their brother.