"Have you gone utterly mad?" Ned hissed through clenched teeth, all the while glaring angrily at his younger sister. The effect of it might have been ruined by Benjen's snickering, but he couldn't be bothered to turn around and shush the other. "You cannot get married just like that."
"And yet I am," Lyanna drawled, tying a golden girdle around her waist. "This is my chance, Ned. I finally have a choice."
"But Robert–" he tried to cut in.
His sister, however, would not be dissuaded by such paltry an argument. "In all honesty, brother mind, I couldn't care less for that if I tried. Father allowed that I might choose another husband for myself, provided that he is in a position that surpasses Robert's. And I have. I am wedding the Prince."
"He could be lying to you." That she'd not thought of, he was certain. "Have you considered that is might be a ruse?"
"You have a very suspicious mind," Lyanna accused upon a giggle. "If indeed he is lying, I can only ask why. Why would be lie, Ned? He is not deceiving us. That I can promise you. But if it makes you feel any better, then do come with me. You can be my witness."
She would have taken Benjen, but Benjen was not yet a ma grown and as such, him witness to the proceedings did not count. Besides, someone had to make sure Brandon did not discover them. If anything he was liable to ruin it all. And then Lyanna would have to wed Robert. A shudder ran down her spine at the distasteful thought. Before she could voice anything else though, Ned began speaking once more.
"And what of the promise you made him?" She had said she would bring him something of the knight's. "How shall you explain that?"
"With honesty, I presume. After we are wedded, he is bound to protect me, is he not?" As plans went, it was a good one, Lyanna reckoned. The Prince needed the North, she needed him so as to not wed Robert and through their marriage Rhaegar would gain help from her father and she would have his protection. "Now, do stop trying to convince me I am making a mistake and push that shield behind the trunks, will you?"
Ned grumbled but complied, pushing the shield behind the tallest of the trunks. In the meantime, he tried to think of any reason that might stop Lyanna. "What of our poor mother? Do you not care that she had been preparing you a dress?"
"Mother shall be pleased with the match." At that Benjen laughed out loud. "Do stop, Ned, or I might just decide to go on my own."
The surest way to get one of her brothers to do something for her was to be sweet to them, but Lyanna hadn't enough patience for cajoling at the moment, nor did she feel up to an out and out battle. So that left her with cutting comments and a short temper.
Leaves and twigs crunched beneath the weight of thick-soled boots. Lyanna was even more aware of these sounds as she would have normally been. It was her nerves, she told herself. But no matter that she knew better, the she-wolf could not help but be nervous. The blame, of course, belonged to Ned. He had pestered her and pestered her until his words were revolving around her head in a great swirling mist that threatened to leave her light-headed and incapable of coherence.
Still, she would not back down. Not when she was so very close to achieving her goal. Whatever else might be said of her, Lyanna knew she had sufficient determination to carry her through much of anything. And a good dose of audacity. Unlike Ned, who was for the most part mindful of his actions and words, Lyanna had only recently developed that particular trait. That was not to say she could not be attentive or mindful; it was rather that for the most part she'd been allowed to run free. Yet she did know when the time came to stop games and become serious.
And this was one such time.
At her side stood Eddard. One hand had grabbed onto hers, holding her securely, the other carried the shield. Lyanna had wanted to carry it herself, but the winding path and the long walk had convinced her that her arms would ache too much if she did. So she allowed Ned his way to save herself the pain. That was one of the joys of having older brothers. Their aggravating manner Lyanna was inclined to consider a tithe for all the good turns they did her. It was good to keep in mind that they did wish her the best. Even if they had a strange way of showing it.
Lyanna drew the cloak tighter around herself as they entered deeper into the woods. From somewhere ahead a frail light could be seen. No doubt it was a gathering of torches. They were drawing closer. Rhaegar had said he'd be waiting for her not very deep into the woods. "Look over there," she whispered to her brother.
"Aye, I see it too," Ned answered. "Come along, if we hurry we shall reach them before the new year comes." The comment earned him a kick to the leg from his sister.
"I am not slow." It was just that she'd been a wee bit unsettled about the whole matter as the wedding itself approached. Lyanna supposed it was not a true wedding, or at least not a proper one in accordance to her rank. But it would serve. A feast could he held after.
"Indeed, you are a rock," her brother quipped back. "You are the one who wanted to be here." The reminder was not helping matters, though it served to anger Lyanna into a quicker pace. "There, have some heart."
The only heart she wanted at the moment was Ned's, bloody and gory and lying on the ground. He, however, took no heed of her mood and simply barrelled on. "If we are caught, I'll be sure to tell them it was all your idea and I was tricked into coming along with you." And that was his gratitude. Lyanna snarled and refused to dignify his words with any other sort of response.
Thankfully, they had reached a small clearing where a small number of people had gathered. Lyanna recognised the Prince and Lady Lannister, she saw Arthur Dayne and another Kingsguard whose name she did not know and whose coat of arms she could not make out in the poorly lit environment. A tall red-headed man rested his long frame against a tree, small, beady eyes trained on her. Lord Whent himself was there as well. An old, stooped septon had been conversing with one of Rhaegar's squires, but now gazed at her. And to Lyanna's great surprise, the lovely Ashara Dayne appeared from behind a tree in her hand a pristine ribbon.
Lyanna thought she heard a sharp intake of breath and struggled to keep her features impassive in the face of what she witnessed. She'd known her brother had developed some sort of attachment to Lady Ashara, and would go as far as to call in infatuation. What she hadn't known was that the lady felt the same. How she would tease Ned when the opportunity presented itself. Until then, however, she had more pressing matters to attend to.
She elbowed Ned gently when he did not let go of her and that particular motion seemed to revive the company. The Prince walked towards her and her brother. "Lady Lyanna, I was starting to worry."
"Apologies; convincing one's brother is something more difficulty than one anticipates." Of course that had Ned sputtering about her own dawdling and that he hadn't needed convincing. Lyanna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I see you have found a septon."
"One needs but know where to look." But the Prince was not looking at her. He was glancing at the shield. After inspecting the painted wood, his gaze shifted to Ser Arthur. They exchanged nods. Afterwards he looked back at her. "We should proceed. 'Tis unwise to linger."
Nodding her had in agreement, Lyanna grabbed Ned's arm in a reassuring gesture before letting go and following Rhaegar before the septon. The old man began the well-known performance. It was a pity this was not a godswood, but Lyanna was fairly certain it was safer as well. Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to make use of those vows she'd been learning for some time.
So it was that Lyanna received the Prince's word and gave promises of her own in return, their hands tied together with the silken ribbon Ashara Dayne had produced from no one knew where. Fighting to keep a smile off of her face, Lyanna took in the cool night gale that shifted through the trees and was much relieved when Rhaegar presented her with a cloak of his house. She was safe; safe from Robert and any other plans her father might have had for her.
That done, those present were instructed to return one by one to their accommodations with as little noise as possible. Lyanna wondered what she and Rhaegar were to do when the last person took their leave. Incidentally, Ned had been that person and he hadn't neglected to give her a long, telling glare.
"Your brother does not seem best pleased." His words gave her a start. It was a bit strange to be utterly alone with him. Even when they'd been alone together in the hallway, Lyanna had known that quite a few persons were nearby.
"He shall get over it soon enough," she assured her husband nonetheless. "And I have kept my word as well." She pointed towards the shield that had been left leaning against a tree trunk.
"Do you know who the knight is? The very person?" Rhaegar walked away from her and knelt in front of the shield, holding the torch above it.
"I do." She walked after him, kneeling by hid side. "He never meant any harm. Would it be too much to ask that the hunt be put a stop to?"
He looked her in the eye s then and a small smile made its way upon his face. Lyanna hadn't quite realised he would look so charming when he smiled like that; like they shared some sort of intimacy. "Consider it done. My morning gift to you, as it were."
"But, Your Grace, you do not know if you will be pleased yet." That aside his words reminded her that on this night, for the very first time, she would be sharing her bed with a man. Not any man, mind, but her husband. It was thrilling beyond comparison. And frightening as well.
"But I do know." He handed the torch to her with those words and picked up the shield. Lyanna watched as he began climbing one of the trees. She held her breath as he hanged it by a strap to one of the thicker branches. That would be the end of it, she knew. He came back down. "On the morrow Dayne shall come and take care of it."
He took her by the hand and they started walking away from the tree. Unable to help herself, Lyanna asked, "Where are we going?" Returning to tents undiscovered was easy. The keep was another matter altogether. The keep was guarded; rather heavily too.
"Do not fret, lady wife." His arm encircled her waist. "Lord Whent is waiting for us. There will be no trouble. Not now at least." Not until the morrow he meant. Lyanna, though not entirely convinced, had been soothed enough to lose some of her stiffness.
And indeed, as the Prince had promised, Lord Whent was waiting for them and ushered them into the keep by a way unknown to most.
With startling clarity, Lyanna realised that whatever happened from there on, she would never have the excuse of claiming others had made choices for her or that the decisions had been removed from her. She would be the cause. Rhaegar led her through the corridors with an easy gait, as if all was right in the world.
Arthur Dayne, the one guarding the Prince's bedchamber, gave them a positively wicked grin for which he earned himself a glare from the Prince and a confused look from Lyanna. Still, they wasted little time. Rhaegar ushered her into the room and barred the door behind them.
For her part Lyanna looked about with a newfound sense of curiosity. She was still quite nervous, but not enough to have been frozen solid. Instead, she walked about the room. Questions bubbled upon her lips but she pushed them away with a flick of the tongue. She was not entirely sure her mouth would not run without her mind.
Surprisingly enough, Rhaegar allowed her to familiarise herself with the environment. He seemed to be completely at ease with the whole matter, not even bothered by having a stranger in such a personal space. If she dawdled much longer, the night would be past them and she would still be a maiden. It was very likely that her husband was trying to give her a choice. But she knew that if any weak link would be found in the marriage, it would be exploited.
With shaking fingers she unfastened her cloak and draped it over one chair. Rhaegar had long since removed his own. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on her. Lyanna took a deep breath and stepped towards him, wondering if she should undo the fastenings on her dress by herself or let him do it. The question was shortly thereafter answered as Rhaegar hands spanned her waist once she was close enough.
"You needn't me afraid." He was looking into her face as he said it.
"I do not fear you," came her reply.
"Good." His fingers worked the knots holding her overdress peeled to her body. The strings gave way at his insistence and soon enough the soft material of her kirtle was slipping and flowing around her, leaving Lyanna in a light shift.
Moonlight streamed through the windows, the silvery glow strong enough to paint the occupants of the room against the shadowy background. Still clinging to her modesty for some unknown reason, Lyanna sat down next to Rhaegar on the bed. For a moment she was unsure of how to proceed, but he helped her along.
The rest of the memory was quite blurry. A strange combination of nerves and lack of clarity had stolen over the she-wolf at some point. She did remember slipping beneath the covers at some point. he recalled warm skin against her and some pain at being torn Then there was the sweetness of comfort and something that felt suspiciously like affection.
A far better recollection was boasted by the Prince. But then, he was not quite as inexperienced as his bride. He'd not asked of her if she'd been with anyone else before, simply because, being quite young, she would not have had the time. Keeping that in mind, Rhaegar had tried his best to be gentle with her. Someone had told him at some point, he knew not when, that for maidens the whole affair of a first night could be quite unpleasant if proper attention was not given.
His lady wife had been shy at first, more curious and reluctant than anything else. She'd wrapped her arms around him and took the kisses and touching in strides. There was something endearing about the tremor in her hands, something heart-warming about the shyness with which she moved her lips against his. Perhaps it was just the moment.
He'd gently pulled her along with him under the covers after their clothes were no longer an impediment. Once there, she had been entirely more courageous. It seemed exploring came rather easier to her when she had some sort of shield. As for himself, he had no qualms whatsoever about feeling his way along her body.
The difficult part came at the joining. As maiden's bodies were wont to, Lyanna's had been quite resistant and it had taken much soothing, patience and willingness to complete the deed. Not that the Prince was complaining. What followed after was enough of a reward for the both of them.
Thus satisfied, Rhaegar had pulled off of Lyanna's fine-boned, slim shape and drew her in his arms, the covers twisting around them with the movement. She had pressed herself against him, arms grabbing at him in a tight hold.
It occurred to Rhaegar that for having wedded a woman who was little better than a stranger to him, the whole matter was proceeding far better than he had envisioned. His bide murmured something he could not make out, but soon enough her whole frame relaxed and she drifted off to the land of dreams. He knew he ought to do the same as on the morrow it would be his turn to joust, but the gods knew the woman sleeping at his side had all his attention.
Slowly though, even he had to fall asleep, satiated and exhausted in equal measure. It was quite possible that the knowledge he would joust against Brandon Stark on the morrow helped matters a great deal. Otherwise he might have been tempted to rouse Lyanna again. Still, reminding himself that she needed her rest and he did too, Rhaegar mournfully forwent the notion. He would have a lifetime of Lyanna, after all.
That was, of course, if the Seven were good and he did not find himself at the end of a deadly assault from his bride's brothers. Not that he did not expect something of the nature to happen, what with the decidedly approving look he'd seen on Eddard Stark's face.
It was the loud cursing from the hallway that woke them up. Rhaegar, a light sleeper by nature, was startled into consciousness by the voices coming from the other side of the door. Lyanna had followed him shortly after, her body tensing when she realised what exactly was going on.
"My brother," she spoke in a horrified whisper. Rhaegar could not tell if it was the older or the middle one and he hadn't the time to at any rate. With a light shake of his head, he peeled the covers away from himself and started dressing, aware that Lyanna's eyes were on him.
If he were of a more scandalous bent, he might have discarded all thought of confronting her brother and simply return to the warmth of the bed. The Seven knew his body did not protest the though. Alas, his intention was not to shame Lyanna. So he turned towards her after he was fully dressed and saw that she took had begun putting her garments on.
"You may remain here if you wish." Mayhap what her brother had to say was not something she wanted, or even should have to, hear.
Lyanna shook her head though. "That's Brandon, Your Grace. He is likely to commit murder before he listens to you. But I am his sister."
"You are saying that he would refrain form killing you?" He helped her with the ties, quite certain that whatever went on outside, Arthur could deal with it for a little while longer.
"Nay, but he would think twice in any event." The wryness of her answer extracted a smile from him.
What should have been a pleasant moment was interrupted by a string of vile invectives that more than tempted Rhaegar to throw thee door open and put an end to it. It seemed there was to be no more delaying.
To his astonishment, Lyanna curled her fingers around his in a secure hold before he could reach the door.
She did not know what she'd expected when they came out of Rhaegar's bedchamber. But the sight before her was most surprising. A very angry Arthur Dayne had unsheathed his weapon of choice, presumably because one of her brother had injured him. Lyanna could see a streak of blood making a path down from his lower lip. Glancing at both Brandon and Ned, she noticed that it was the second one whose knuckles had been bloodied.
Of course, sensible speech was out of the question as, as soon as she and Rhaegar joined the three belligerent souls in the corridor, Brandon lunged for them, making a grab for Lyanna's arm. He might have caught her too if she'd not had the sense to pull away.
"Stop this nonsense," her husband promptly intervened, stepping before her, as if to shield her.
"Nonsense?" Brandon growled, looking about ready to commit unspeakable acts. "You've defiled my sister, you bastard."
Lyanna tried her very best not to be amused at that. She did. It made her wonder if Brandon had the knowledge that she was married.
"Why would I defile my own wife, and more importantly, how?"