Lyanna's wilful nature won over Jorah's reservations and she embarked from their log hall with him to fight in the war. Perhaps, it was the selfishness in Jorah that did not want to be away from her that had been easily worn down. He had came to her, one evening, bearing armour that would fit her slim frame. Lyanna had thanked him with her smiles and peppered happy kisses on every inch of his face and neck.

"You are the very best," she squealed with delight. He smiled at her happiness and enveloped her into his arms.

"I'm sorry some of it is old and mismatched. I made sure you would not have to wear anything that was patched."

"I don't mind. I am going to be with you in battle, my bear." Her grey eyes shone brightly. "I'm so happy you changed your mind, Jorah." Jorah knew she would have managed to join the war somehow. He nodded bewildered that she treated the used armour as if he had gifted her all the gold in the world.

Jorah hadn't asked or given his good brother and liege lord any notice that Lyanna was going with them to fight the Ironborn. Luckily, Brandon was merely happy to see his sister, not seeming to notice that she was clad in armour, when she rode with Jorah and the men of Bear Island. The other northern lords had kept their opinions to themselves if they had any. When the northerners joined with the king and the royal army, King Eddard had raised an eyebrow at his sister but remained quiet for he was more preoccupied with the Ironborn attacks on the Westerland coasts. Benjen was leading his newly trained soldiers and Lord Stannis Baratheon, master of ships, was sailing with the navy.

Many of the highborn men from outside the North had made scathing comments about Lyanna fighting and how Jorah was a poor husband for not putting her back in her place. Jorah had itched to put some of them in their place in the ground. Lyanna had ignored them fairly well, which was a feat in itself given her temper. She was determined to prove herself. After a couple of battles on the coast, the comments were fewer, once she had proved to be far capable in battle than many of young green boys. Some were bold or drunk enough to talk to her in a manner, which displeased Jorah greatly.

"What waste. Such a beauty like you hidden away in a bear den. I would have you decked in all the jewels and finery if you were my lady wife," boasted a handsome minor lord who was inept at war.

"My lord father would love to have you for a wife," said one of the numerous sons of Lord Walder Frey.

"Clearly, Mormont hasn't done a very good job of taming you." The russet haired man bent down and whispered in Lya's ear. "You know where my tent is." Lyanna poured her ale over his head and kneed him. Jorah had heard her shouts at them all and strode over with his hand on the hilt of Longclaw. The Frey who spoke to Lyanna flinched and backed away from the sight of him.

"I am the sister of your King! My husband is twice the man you lot are. Dare to speak so to me again, I'll cut off your manhood." Jorah strode over and stood behind Lya, staring dangerously at the shorter man. She turned her head and noticed her lord husband. "Jorah-" He grabbed the man by the neck and ignored Lyanna. The man's face had turned blue, when King Eddard's quiet voice ordered him to release the man.

"Lord Mormont, I shall deal with him," ordered King Eddard. Jorah reluctantly nodded with deference before storming away with Lyanna at his heels.

"Jorah, you can't kill every man who looks at me or speaks to me in an unseemly manner."

"I can," He shot back. "Do you doubt my capabilities?" Lyanna let out a dramatic sigh and touched his arm.

"In killing men? No," she answered. "If you are going to stew all night, may we go back to our tent? Save that anger for Ironborn tomorrow." He gave a moody nod and they walked without talking to their tent that was not as grand as many of the others. Lyanna flopped down the pallet and removed her scabbard. His mood had fairly dissipated after near twenty minutes. Jorah looked tenderly at his nineteen year old wife.

"You think I'm twice the man in comparison to everyone in this bloody army."

"Never complimenting you ever again," groaned Lya rolling her eyes. Lyanna mumbled under her breath, "You men aren't delicate when you go to relieve yourself. Seen more than I would have liked." He chuckled as he removed Longclaw and set it down by the pallet, before sitting down next to Lyanna.

"And?" Jorah pressed, with a small smile as he picked up and kissed her pale hand.

"I hate you, Jorah Mormont," she huffed turning on her side, facing away from him. He laid down and kissed her neck. "I thought you were going to be fuming all night."

"You started a conversation without going into all the details. I am left riveted." Lyanna snorted with laughter.

"You are twice everyone's age," clarified Lyanna with a grin. He made the face of mock hurt.

"Lord Manderly has ten years over me," he reminded. She made an noise of amused annoyance.

"You are such a- We are going to set siege on Pyke tomorrow and all you care is if I think your co- Good night." He chuckled in her ear.

"Good night, love." He tugged the blanket at their feet and pulled it over Lya. Lyanna fell asleep quickly as he could hear her soft snores after ten minutes.

He was woken in the very early morn by a whisper in his ear.

"Oh stop grinning and get up you fool," hissed her voice in the darkness.


She vividly remembered that Jorah was one of the first to storm into Pyke during the siege. Lyanna had been a bit further behind fighting alongside her brothers. He had charged ahead with a rush of mad adrenalin with Ned not far behind. She remembered being glad that she would have a few minutes without his overprotectiveness. Lordsport and Botley Castle had been destroyed before they had pressed on to attack the castle of Pyke. One of the elder sons of Lord Balon had perished during the siege; a black haired young man near Benjen's age that had crowed with cockiness before he was killed. Lyanna would learn after Lord Balon Greyjoy and the Ironborn had been defeated, a young man had also perished who was the grandson to Old Nan. Lya had knelt before the dead young man and closed his dead unseeing eyes for him.

Thoros and Jorah were fighting six Ironborn, when she joined the fray with Brandon. Brandon had ran to join Ned in battling Lord Balon Greyjoy. Lya was fighting a fierce Ironborn alone, when suddenly more came out of nowhere.

"Oh, Lord Euron, there's a bird in our midst," chortled one of Ironborn.

"Nah Cleftjaw, it's a she-wolf," leered the handsome, black haired Greyjoy dangerously. "Come here, darlin', I wanna hear you howl." He advanced towards her. Lya had raised her sword and fought off Euron well. "When my brother defeats yours and has his head on a spike, I want have a nice little prize as well to go with your brother's decapitated head."

"He won't defeat Ned. Your brother's fleet has been destroyed by Lord Baratheon. You are all losing," she had boasted with confidence. Euron grinned at her darkly.

"You greenlanders will fear the sight of my sails. Mark my words, pretty," Euron warned softly. "My elder nephews boasted they would take northern salt wives, but alas, they are dead."

"You will follow them if you are stupid to try." Lyanna blocked his attacks and warily avoided being cornered. He's talking to me to distract me.

"Ah, I like your feistiness, wolf girl," laughed Euron. He randomly asked, "I have heard your brother is hiding a dragon princess in the north. Is it true?" Lya did not answer Euron for she was distracted by her husband's face and heard Jorah growl with anger and kill men on his way over to protect her. Greyjoy seemed very amused by this, irritating Lyanna. Greyjoy should fear her. "Oh what a precious treasure you must be. It's alright, dearie, he can fish for you in the sea."

"Y've made the bear go all mad," laughed another Ironborn as Jorah's Longclaw clanged against his axe. "I have always wanted to see a bear fight. Only seen she-bears." Lyanna had looked at Jorah desperately with slight annoyance and relief, her face plead, 'I have got this, Jorah'. But he had mistook it for genuine fear and so had Euron Greyjoy.

"Here's your chance, lad. Deal with him," barked Euron as he advanced towards her far more aggressively.

"Lyanna!" Jorah shouted. Lyanna had dodged the blow from behind just in time. She had been taken by surprise. Her sword hand had bashed by a club and she dropped my sword, silently whelping in pain. Lyanna fought off Euron with her other hand, kicking him, biting him with all her might. A knife was at her throat and Euron tugged at Lya's dark hair.

"Now, if you make a move, luv, I'll slit that pretty pale neck of yours. Tell your husband you want to come with me. Go on."

"Let her go," growled Jorah looking murderous. Lyanna's eyes watered from pain and wounded pride. She refused to think of what Euron would do to her if- no she wouldn't think of it. She caught glimpses Ned battling Lord Balon and Brandon roaring taunts at the Ironborn as he slew them. From the shouts of men on the either side, the Ironborn were losing badly. Euron in bitter fury sensed this and unceremoniously let her go. Jorah and Euron faced each other. Sounds of Balon's surrender stopped them from drawing each other's blood. Euron smiled wickedly at Lyanna.

"Your ugly bear gets to put me in chains today. But fear not, I will see you again, until then." Jorah knocked out Euron cold with his fists. Jorah crouched down and inspected Lyanna's hand.

"Are you hurt anywhere else? Oh, my love." She shook her head and flung her arm around his neck.

"I didn't want to have to be saved," she murmured as Jorah spoke soothing words and everyone crowed their victory. Lya saw the unconscious Euron be dragged away in chains. Lyanna had believed her skill in fighting was far better than it was. She had vastly improved but she was no match for physically larger and more experienced men like Euron Greyjoy quite yet. Lyanna felt her wounded pride more than her injured hand.

"But fear not, I will see you again, until then."

Jorah picked up her sword and helped her up on her feet.

"Let's get you to a maester, love." Lyanna nodded and kissed him on the cheek. As they walked over to Brandon and Ned, Lyanna glanced over her shoulder at the chained Euron Greyjoy.

"Fear not, I will kill you."


As a result of the victory of royalists versus the rebelling Ironborn. Lord Balon Greyjoy was forced to kneel and swear fealty to King Eddard. King Eddard had taken the last son of Balon, a boy of nine, as a hostage to ensure Lord Balon's good behaviour. King Eddard had honoured Jorah with a knighthood for his bravery in battle. He knelt next to Jacelyn Bywater who also received a knighthood after losing his hand. It was a triumphant moment for Jorah for he had longed for a knighthood. It was sweeter that Lyanna was with him to witness this achievement, safe and alive. He had been enjoying his cups in Lannisport in his jubilant mood. Jorah wrapped his arm around Lyanna's waist. She leaned her head against his chest as she clanked her empty tankard down on the battered table of the tavern.

"Why the fuck did you need to be anointed by the High Septon? You are a northman, Jorah." Jorah had never been as reverent to the Old Gods as Lyanna and majority of the people of the north were.

"It's the proper way," he explained shrugging. If Jorah was going to be a knight he wanted to do it right.

"I suppose you will want to join the lists in the tourney in honour of my brother's victory," sighed Lyanna with irritability.

"I do," Jorah answered slowly, wondering if Lyanna was longing for the children. He failed to not to show his disappointment for he could rarely deny Lyanna. Not after what could have happened. He should have never left her side for a second.

"Is there any particular reason?" Her grey eyes looked sharply up at him. Jorah paused from taking another swig of his ale.

"To win the tourney and to crown you my queen of love and beauty that's all," Jorah replied honestly, not sure of her expression in his drunken haze. She snorted and looked down at her rather plain blue wool gown. Lyanna looked at her hand in its cast.

"I don't look like a queen of anything at the moment. The war- it wasn't what I had imagined-" Jorah frowned not understanding Lya's mood. The tavern patrons' raucous voices drowned out Lyanna. Something was troubling her.

"Are you upset by what happened?" he asked tenderly. "You are safe, I wouldn't have let him-" Jorah went red as he pictured Euron Greyjoy raping his Lya. He remembered her brave face cracked with fear. Lyanna had looked younger than nineteen years. "You are so beautiful and brave. I should have-" Her mouth twisted. "Are you in pain, love?"

"Never mind that. Look, I'm well. You won't be bringing me home in a box," shrugged Lyanna, though she winced in pain. Jorah felt cold at the very thought of Lyanna, dead in a box to buried in the pine forest.

"Lya," he began. Perhaps she needs some milk of the poppy. Lyanna smiled brightly, too brightly.

"People get wounded in war all the time," she interrupted and planted a kiss on his lips. "My lord husband is now a knight. Will you let me have a sip of your ale, ser?" Jorah obliged and lifted the mug to her lips. She took a drink. "I am proud of you, my bear. My knighted bear. Kiss me, Ser Jorah." He obliged again, grinning at the sound of her voice say his new title.


Lynesse was thrilled to be accompanying her lord father and her brothers to Lannisport for tourney. Of course she was joyous for King Eddard's victory for it meant merriment and no more tension while Baelor and Father whispered in the council room. Malora would no longer fret of Ironborn ships sailing into their port, pillaging and raping their beautiful home.

"Pray for King's victory, little sister. You are sweet, soft, my dove. They aren't a kind sort, those Ironborn. We should send you to Alerie." Lynesse shivered and looked out the sea with fear. The Ironborn were terrifying enough to warrant a suggestion to stay with her elder sister Alerie up in Highgarden.

"Stop scaring her, Mally," ordered Humfrey placing a comforting hand on Lynesse's shoulder.

"You and Bael spoil her. She needs to be less naive," warned Malora. "The world is not just balls, and merriment."

Dressed in a gold and white gown, which complimented her blonde tresses and creamy skin. Her blue eyes scanned the boisterous crowd of the nobility and the royals. Lynesse stood on her tiptoes to get a good look at the Golden Queen and King Eddard. The proud Queen linked arms with the King who wore an aloof face. The King was far more handsomer with his dark beard than his clean shaven face at the royal wedding, she noted. Queen Cersei wore her hair in a different style, that she had never seen before. Lynesse looked around at the other young ladies muttering to themselves. By tomorrow, they will all have tried to recreate the Queen's look.

"The King's sister and her lord husband is here," announced Baelor, whose eyes followed the movements of the dark haired lady. "She fought in the war alongside her brother, the King and her lord husband. I have heard that Lord Mormont has been knighted for his bravery." Lynesse wrinkled her nose and stared at Lady Lyanna. The latter was dressed in an exquisite gown of blue-grey velvet with her sword at her thin waist. No highborn lady walks around armed. Lady Lyanna was laughing with Father and the younger Stark brother, Lord of Dragonstone.

"Why would she want to do that?" wondered Lynesse perplexed. "Is she going to join the lists?" she jested. Baelor smiled but never responded for Father had beckoned him over to join the conversation with Lady Lyanna and the Lord of Dragonstone. Lord Jorah Mormont stood a few feet away from his lady wife with some other lords and knights. He seemed taller, and swarthier than she remembered. Mormont wore the same dark green velvet doublet. Lynesse thought him practical to not bring his fine clothes, since he had just been in a war. At the royal wedding, she had thought Lord Jorah looked much like the Warrior, especially with the tales of his feats in battle.

He said I looked like a goddess-the Maid herself come to earth.So gracefully in dance for such a tall, burly man.

But it was the Wild Wolf, the King's elder, and far more handsomer brother that caught her eye. He strode over and clapped Lord Mormont's shoulder jovially. She glanced over at her brothers and Father still engrossed with talking to the youngest Stark lord. Her tiny Tyrell niece was betrothed to the last available Stark. Lynesse was comforted by the fact that little Margaery would be marrying the least handsome of the Starks. Lynesse wanted to marry a knight of song with a plentiful amount of pretty things.

He's too thin. Brandon Stark is the handsomest man here. If Ser Jaime had not been slain, he would have been the most beautiful man. Far more than Brandon Stark.

"Hello, my lords," Lynesse greeted sweetly as she walked up to Lord Stark and Lord Mormont. "I heard of your valour during the siege. His Grace was right to knight you for your achievements."

"Thank you, my lady," thanked Lord Jorah with a polite smile. She heard from behind her, the laughter of Baelor and unfamiliar feminine laughter. Lord Mormont's eyes flickered away from Lynesse's face. She made a quick glance over her shoulder to the recipient of Lord Mormont's intense gaze.

"Are you joining the lists?" Lynesse asked with a long glance at both men's strong arms. It was a shame I had been born the youngest daughter, she thought as she stared at Lord Stark.

"I have," the charming Lord Stark replied, staring back at her. Lord Mormont was still engrossed with Lady Lyanna who was talking to Lynesse's brother Baelor.

"I shall cheer for you, my lord." Lynesse complimented the inattentive Lord Mormont, "Your lady wife must be very proud of you. Are you joining the lists, ser?" She gave an arch look at Lord Stark who glanced over at her and winked at her. His handsome grey eyes roamed her body before looking away to continue conversing to his squire who had came over. Lynesse flushed, pleased she hadn't listened to her septa and wore the chaste, and muted yellow gown. Lord Stark had seemed too wild and barbarically northern back at royal wedding.

He's barbarically sensual.

"I am, my lady," answered Lord Mormont distractedly.

"How lovely," she sighed softly looking at his far more handsome good brother. Lord Jorah excused himself and Lynesse forced herself to look away from Brandon Stark. She was a bit miffed that he did not look at her in awe like he had at the wedding ball. Lynesse turned and watched Lord Jorah walk over to his lady wife. He bent his head and whispered in her ear. Lady Lyanna looked at Lord Jorah questioningly, before giving Lynesse an odd look. Lynesse frowned wondering what Lord Mormont had whispered. When she looked away, Lord Stark had walked away

She walked to the pavilion, when a voice spoke to her from behind, "My lady!" Lynesse flushed and spun around. Lord Benjen bowed his head politely. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you. I am Benjen Stark of Winterfell and Dragonstone."

"Lady Lynesse Hightower of Oldtown," she introduced with a curtsey. Benjen had bright, piercing blue eyes. His nose was bit big for his thin face, but it wasn't absurdly overwhelming. He was an unmarried lord though. "You are in charge of the navy, my lord?" Perhaps he was more interesting than she had assumed.

"Lord Stannis is the master of ships. I mostly train soldiers on Dragonstone," explained Lord Benjen.

"Oh," she smiled though she didn't really care. Lynesse wanted to go back to staring at Lord Stark or find some sweet wine. "It must be boring having to wait for my niece to old enough to wed." Lord Benjen shrugged.

"I hadn't put much thought in marrying. Are you betrothed yourself?"

"No," she answered candidly with frown. "I want to marry badly though. To marry a rich lord like my sister Alerie." A knight of song and with all the prettiest things. Her unfortunate order of birth would not prevent her from living the life she wanted. A handsome life outside of Oldtown. Lynesse would not spend the rest of her days like Malora, even if childbearing didn't not interest her. "Are you in the tourney as well?"

"Just spectating, my lady. I was wondering if you would honour me with your company during the tourney?" Lynesse flashed a flirtatious courtier smile at the young Stark.

"I would be honoured to, my lord." Lynesse watched the tournament with fascination. She glanced at Benjen Stark next to her.

"Why have you asked me to sit with you, my lord? I wouldn't want to cause trouble with my sister." Though if she did usurp her niece and married Lord Benjen Stark, she would have every opportunity to go King's Landing for the frivolity, whilst Lord Benjen attended at the tedious Small Council meetings. Why couldn't Father bother to find me a good husband like he did for my sisters?

He didn't look at her as he drank his ale. "My brother wants to dance with you." She sat up straighter, when Lord Brandon rode out to challenge Lord Jorah. Lynesse turned to gaze at Lord Brandon as he rode to face Lord Jorah. Lynesse knew she shouldn't be tempted by this man, who was said to have fathered the late Lady Ashara Dayne's bastard. By the disappointed sighs of nearly every female in the crowd, he tempted them all.

"Oh," she managed with a smile on her fair face. Lynesse gasped in shock when Lord Jorah unhorsed the handsome Lord Brandon Stark. She clutched her breast as she watched the red faced Brandon Stark stood up and walked off. Without either realizing it, Benjen and Lynesse's hands were entwined as they watched in anticipation at who would be the victor of the tournament. Lord Mormont had defeated the last challenger and won the tourney. There was no surprise crowning at this tourney. Lord Jorah Mormont had crowned his lady wife, the Lady Lyanna, with a crown of blue winter and snow white roses.

Lynesse had indulged in the sweet wine during the feast and walked to the northern nobles' tents. Lord Brandon hadn't come to claim a dance with her though she noted he looked over at her many times throughout the feast. He said he would but was kept at the high table for some reason. They made eye contact as he left the feast and he whispered in her ear. Lynesse slipped away from Humphrey and Baelor who were merrily inebriated. Ahead of her was Lord Jorah and Lady Lyanna. Lord Mormont had been in his cups from his post victory jubilant mood throughout the feast. Lynesse had noticed his drunk in love grins as Lady Lyanna kissed him. The tall, burly man was leading his beautiful lady wife with her thin pale hand in his large swarthy hand to their tent. Lady Lyanna giggled tipsy, her flower crown slightly askew. Lord Mormont's plain yellowing shirt was undone and he wore a blue cloth around his neck that matched the blue of the roses.

"My bear," Lady Mormont's voice gasped from inside their tent. Lynesse glanced at the tent as she walked past. Lynesse discreetly slipped inside Lord Brandon Stark's grander tent.

"If he wasn't Lya's husband, I would be furious," complained Lord Brandon drunkenly as he removed his shirt. Lynesse gaped at the sight of his chiseled broad chest.

"You jousted well, brother," spoke Lord Benjen's voice. Lynesse hid behind Lord Brandon's armour as Lord Benjen exited the tent.

"Are you hurt, my lord?" she asked with the brazenness that sweet wine gave her. As she revealed her presence, Lord Brandon was in the process of removing his trousers. "Lord Benjen told me you wished for me to reserve a dance with you. I was wondering, since you didn't come to dance with me." Her blue eyes travelled to his exposed cock.

"You came. I am well enough to dance now, my lady," assured Lord Brandon as they gazed at each other's beauty. "Would you like a fast or slow dance?" He kissed her as his hands deftly unlaced her gown. They kissed each other passionately and eagerly. Lynesse lay back on the bed and stroked him as he kissed her neck.

"I want us to dance all night," she moaned as his lips made their way to her breasts and slipped two fingers inside her. She uttered unladylike words as she became wet for Brandon Stark. He smiled at her wolfishly and Lynesse learned that Brandon Stark was passionate in making love. Brandon took awhile despite being drunk before he spent himself inside her. She had expected him to spill on her on stomach every time they made love. But she didn't fear for she had the means to procure moon tea. Lord Brandon had dozed off but he woke up as he became hard again by her hands and mouth. Lynesse did not waste any time with this gorgeous specimen. Lord Brandon took her on her hands and knees like how wolves mate. Lynesse was not sure that she care for that position, but was pleased when he proclaimed her beauty numerous times. Lord Brandon fell asleep with his head on her chest. Lynesse stroked his dark curls, imagining being a lady of her own castle to do as she pleased.

"Shame, I only have little time to love your perfection again, my lady," sighed Lord Brandon as they woke in the morn. Lynesse mewed her own disappointment. How she liked to imagine he had asked for her favour and crowned her queen of love and beauty. They would marry today and she would be a lady wife of a lord. Not a mere minor knight like her other sisters had married. Lynesse would not care a twit if the lord was handsome or not. It would be an added bonus.

"I wish we could remain lovers," she declared partially in seriousness. Brandon grinned at Lynesse and leaned in for a kiss. Lynesse had been not mindful of the time for Lord Brandon's squire had entered,

"My lord-" Brandon groaned like a disappointed child. Lynesse's cheeks warmed. "Um- His Grace, the King requests you-"

"Ned," cursed Brandon. "Ethan, make sure Lady Lynesse makes it back to her to tent unnoticed. My lady, I have had a pleasure dancing with you."

"Likewise, my lord." They kissed once more before Brandon hastily dressed to meet the King. Lynesse haughtily dressed before this Ethan, who withered under her proud looks.

"Lace me?" Ethan fumbled with her laces, nervously. He was a russet haired young man of her age. "You must think I have brought myself to the level of a common whore."

"No-no my lady. You aren't the first highborn lady my lord has- You seem sweet. However, my lady is a good woman-" Lady Stark. Lynesse almost laughed at her silly drunken notion that Lord Brandon would ask for her lord father for her hand in marriage in the morn.

"I take it northern lords don't have mistresses," she said flatly. Ethan spluttered, reddening as he led them out of the tent. "Don't fret. If I am going make a mistress of myself. It will be for more than a handsome face." The lord's wife and daughters will grow in fear of me.

"The Starks have honour." Lynesse gave a sideways glance at this sweet Ethan.

"So I have heard. If I may be frank, I think Lord Brandon's moral compass is ruled by his cock then his sense of honour. One day, a beautiful young woman will not settle-"

"Are you that lady?" asked Ethan sharply, in loyalty to Lady Catelyn. Lynesse only smirked. They had thought they had not been noticed, when a voice called out to Lynesse. Lynesse turned her head. It was the homely, dwarf son of Lord Tywin Lannister. Tyrett? His mismatched eyes looked her in the eye.

"Good morn, my lord. I went for a morning walk and got lost. Ethan was so kind to direct me back to my tent," she explained incase he thought it was curious for her to be walking.

"I almost mistook you for one of my Lannister cousins. But you are far lovelier, my lady," slurred the dwarf walking unevenly to her.

"Are you sure it is not the wine?" Lynesse arched a brow.

"Forgive me, I haven't spent much time outside of Casterly Rock." I should think not. "I haven't been allowed to see such beauty in the flesh." Lynesse smiled at him and bent down, offering her hand for a kiss. This unwanted heir of Casterly Rock kissed her hand improperly. Lynesse turned her head to Lord Brandon's squire.

"I relieve you of your duty. Thank your lord for me." The young man nodded, bowed and went his way. "I should find my lord father. Forgive me-"

"Perhaps, you would like to sup with me, my lady?" asked Tyrion Lannister. Lynesse smiled politely. I would rather sup with Lord Brandon and ruin my reputation. She thought of an appropriate decline to his invitation.

"My Lynesse would be honoured to," answered Father's voice. Lynesse looked up at Father. Baelor and Humfrey looked mildly repulsed on her behalf. Lynesse's mouth hung open but managed nothing. Tyrion Lannister smiled and bowed. He spoke an eloquent line of counting the moments till then that would have taken Lynesse's breath away. If he weren't a-

"Father, I-" she cried. "I don't wish to sup with a dwarf."

"The heir of Casterly Rock, little Lynnie," boomed Father proudly as they entered the tents of House Hightower.

"He's a dwarf, Father," protested Baelor who always protected her. "The hated son of Tywin Lannister." Humfrey nodded.

"Who will inherit Casterly Rock nevertheless, since he is Tywin's only living son now. Oh, you have my blessing, girl." Lynesse gaped in horror, but Father smiled benignly not seeming to notice his children's mixed feelings. "Little Lynnie, you could be the Lady of Casterly Rock. Two of my girls married to Lord Paramounts." Father turned to her and looked at her wrinkled gown from last night. "Put on a fresh gown, and do something with your hair. It looks like you have been in bed with a wild animal."

A wolf.

"Oh sweet sister," sighed Baelor with a less than bright smile. "You'll make the best of this."

"What of happiness?" complained idealistic Humfrey.


It had been mere moons, since Greyjoy's failed rebellion. Cersei was in her solar, attending to business, when her lord uncle came in to speak with her. Ned was in the throne room, listening to petitioners. Cersei missed sitting on the Iron Throne, dispensing rulings, and justice. War is over. She frowned at her Uncle Kevan as he revealed that the little monster had fallen in love with a daughter of Lord Hightower.

"No longer interested in the whores in the brothels?" she quipped both disinterested yet annoyed by this news. Cersei began to wonder how this love story had occurred.

"So it would seem. I would prefer he take a wife in one of the vassals' daughters like what Tywin had planned for Jaime. But-"

"We are giving the Reach too much. The Florents in the Stormlands. My good brother to marry Lord Tyrell's daughter. Now another." Uncle Kevan gave her a look.

"Which lord's daughter will you approve for your brother, Your Grace?"

"I will have another son. He will inherit Casterly Rock, when Father dies."

"The boy will be a Stark. Tyrion is your lord father's trueborn son and now heir, Your Grace. You speak of the Reach marrying into every house. There are Starks of Winterfell, King's Landing, Dragonstone, and if you get your way Starks of Casterly Rock. My brother did not build his Lannister legacy for-" Peals of laughter interrupted Uncle Kevan. It was the little devil and his giggling Hightower. Cersei's green eyes widened as she noticed the glittering precious ruby and gold earbobs and necklace on the silly blonde girl. Her mouth curved into a snarl.

"Where did you get that? You- whore," Cersei spat out in fury as she made her way to the little thief. The Hightower girl did not jump like she had once at Cersei's voice. Lynesse haughtily curtseyed and smiled.

"Your brother kindly gifted them to me, Your Grace."

"Those were my lady mother's," seethed Cersei. "Hand them over." She held out her hand imperiously. Lady Lynesse Hightower smiled even more and gave a little laugh. Her fair curls bounced.

"Yes, they were, Your Grace. Sweet Tyrion was so generous to trust me with such sentimental jewels. I'm afraid I cannot hand them over. You see you have no claim to them, Your Grace. They are the jewels for the Lady of Casterly Rock. Not the crown jewels."

"As if you will ever become the Lady of Casterly Rock," laughed Cersei. "Father won't allow it." She glared at them both.

"Father has given his blessing, sister," announced the imp with his crooked smile.

"We are to be sisters," exclaimed Lynesse Hightower sweetly, who had the audacity to kiss Cersei on the cheeks.

"Thrilling," gritted Cersei with venom.

A/N: Hope the Euron bit wasn't horrible. Sorry that the Lynesse part is long. I quite like her. Brandon will be a good boy once he is back in the North.

No Tysha and her horrifying rape in this story.

Next chapter will have the Ned x Cersei reunion.

Leave a review! :)