Chapter X-Sun and Moon

During dinner Father and Mother kept a long and apparently warm conversation with Doran and Mellario. They kept their distances but still their relationship seemed to be a good one. Jon and Robb seemed to get on well with Prince Trystane and Princess Arianne had set a good impression on my sisters, especially on Arya, who was tranquil all night. I was certain Arianne was telling her stories of fighting or any similar sort but with such delicacy that even Sansa was drawn to the conversation. Much to my surprise, Bran was talking to Princes Oberyn and Yisus in a very friendly tone, the three of them all smiles. As for me, Quentyn was an easy man to approach. He wasn't that much older than me but still. Already a man grown. I asked myself if he would see me childish.

"I've heard you like to fight, is that right?" He asked at some point of our conversation. I was more than happy to be able to talk about that topic. It was much safer than courtesies and the like.

"Quite a lot. My brothers and I practice every day. It's much more interesting that being locked up sewing. I like to feel fresh air on my cheeks while sending my brothers to the ground," all this I said with a smile. Mother would have said the tone was too rude for a lady but Quentyn just laughed.

"And yet you've made this beautiful dress," he looked at me from head to toe, "I guess some are granted with more than one great talent." The Prince with all his charm made true honor to those of the stories. I certainly blushed and couldn't speak for a moment. "It's just a simple dress, nothing to do with yours. The person who made it do have to be gifted by the gods," he laughed, showing all his very white teeth.

"This? Yes, it was made carefully and thoughtfully, I thought you would like it."

"Blue will always suit the North, you made the right choice, my Prince." The conversation was fluent, but still I found it difficult talking with a man that was still a stranger. Luckily for me, nights have an end and so we went to bed.

The girl was…how to describe her? Beautiful for sure but she was much more than that. "The opinions I've heard couldn't be more wrong, she's such a sweet girl…," Quentyn was thinking. And yet he wished to see the little wolf inside her, that willful side his sister had told him about, something to make her different from the rest, something unique. The southern courts were full of little birds, but Winterfell was no South. He ought to find something else here. The Prince found the North queer and cold but the girl was worth all the trip from the South. Besides, his siblings seemed to get along with the other Stark children. North and South together. It seemed like a good idea to him.

In the morning I went to the godswood for no particular reason but for finding a peaceful moment before all the castle woke up. I was talking to the godswood when a well-known voice asked:

"How do you pray to a tree? I've always wondered, doesn't it feel cold not to have a direct reply?" I looked back to meet Quentyn's eyes and then back at the heart tree, its sap running out from mouth and eyes. "It does sometimes but I feel the old gods all over Winterfell. They are in the cold air, in this very little pond, in the sound of the leaves rustling…The birds carry their words and spread them," I explained while softly touching the tree's bark.

"In Sunspear there are three weirdwoods in the Water Gardens but they are apart and no one pays attention to them," he said it in a sad tone, his dark green eyes suddenly lighter. "One will soon," we both smiled. "But, how did you find the godswood? Did you get lost, my Prince?" The man laughed and nodded faintly. "I have to admit I did."

"My brothers might be already playing at the yard, you may want to join. Come." I led him out of the godswood. "I must say the blue suits you better, Lady Lyanna." Quentyn was again all charms and had he been another person I might have thought he was just playing his part. But he was a true Prince like the ones in the songs, the ones Sansa yearned for. Still I found it amusing at times. Mother and Septa kept saying that if I behaved as a boy nobody would set their eyes on me and yet Prince Quentyn did not care about it. He loved me, not the woman they wanted me to be.

"Blue should suit a daughter of Winterfell as orange and yellow should a son of Sunspear." It was mere courtship yet it was true, those colors suited his olive skin perfectly.

Jon, Robb and Theon were already fighting when we reached the yard. Bran was there too, but apparently he had not been welcomed to play although Trystane had.

Arya emerged behind Bran's back scaring him. Instead of crying he turned around and went after her. I was looking at those two little pups running after each other when another voice interrupted my happy thoughts: "I heard you were good with the sword, my lady." The man's voice belonged to no other than Oberyn Martell. All my face contracted in fear. Each time that man put his eyes on me I felt a chill. There was something in the way he looked at me…sometimes it was resent, other times pure hate, others it seemed just curiosity. The Red Viper they called him in Dorne. I didn't want to know why. "And I am, but I am afraid I'm not wearing the suitable dress, my Lord." I pointed to my skirts. A poor excuse yet true. Men didn't wear them for a reason.

"True, yet a warrior should be prepared any time, don't you think, my lady?"

"Are you challenging me, my Lord?" Oberyn snorted.

"Quite daring for a Stark. But no, what kind of guest would I be if I fought with my host?" I was going to reply, angry that he was playing with me when Arya shouted from behind: "LYANNA, DUCK!" I turned around just to see something coming in my direction. Of course I didn't have enough time to be out of its way so it splashed on my face. Snow. Dirty snow all around my face and mouth. The impact hurt quite a lot and I could feel my face burning. "Arya, what are you doing?" She was lucky it was not Sansa or she would have been dead by now. "I'm sorry, it's Bran's fault!" But Bran had something to say about that too: "No, it's not!" Theon was laughing out loud and Jon and Robb were trying to do all they could not to burst in laughter. Oberyn passed by and whispered that a good warrior should also have good reflexes. Yes, like if you would have seen that coming. Definitely Doran or Yisus hadn't been like Arya or he would know. Reflexes to me…