This is a filler. The next chapter will be the Lady Gathering.
Any information about the Noble North women around Lyanna's age years etc will be gladly accepted. Otherwise I don't mind taking on any Oc's you've created and might want to suggest. Just PM if you have one. It's hard to research the females of the North during Lyanna, Brandon and Ned's time.
Chapter 5: When a sister gets sick...
"Lya, a lady must always ensure her back is straight when sitting. To slouch tells that you are lazy and speaks ill of your up bringing and person." Anya lectured with frustration.
"I've been sitting like this for 2 HOURS! How much longer do you wish me to be so uncomfortable?" Lyanna snapped, face twisted in ugly distaste.
Anya felt the beginnings of a headache and blinked rapidly to clear her mind. Breathing in deeply she tried for patience once more. After one too many peering eyes, the sisters had moved Lyanna's lady lessons to Anya's room. It helped but not by much. Lyanna was simply too impatient to listen and sit. Of course Lyanna's angry outbursts only increased the pity filled looks by some of the help.
It really was becoming too much for Anya to handle.
Lyanna lost herself to another fiery rant on how idiotic and stupid lady lesson's were. Anya could barely make sense of her words. Doubts filled her mind and she suddenly began to panic. This was all a horrible idea, Ned was right to be concerned. It would've been better to simply have a name day feast. Why did she convince Father otherwise? Why!?
"Anya? ANYA!"
"What Lyanna What!?" She snapped harshly
"You're not listening to me"
Anya did not hear the wary caution in Lyanna's tone as she spoke. Did not notice the way Lyanna worriedly studied her person. The youngest Stark daughter was simply too overwhelmed with exhaustion and doubt. Before Anya could say anything else, the room spun and she stumbled backwards onto her bed.
"Anya!"
There was real concern in Lyanna's voice at watching her little sister stumble. Frantically she called for a maid and ushered her sister to lay flat. Anya wanted to protest but she felt sickly, dizzy and hot. She could only blearily hear Lyanna shouting at her and the muttering of a maid or was it a Maester? She can't tell…. Soon after all Anya knew was dark nothing and silence.
~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~
Lyanna stares at her sleeping sister, as if she is a corpse. Benjen is present and neither of them speak as they sit by Anya's bedside. Stress, exhaustion, over-worked, all words the Maester claimed weakened Anya into such state. It had not taken long for Benjen to burst into the scene- not with how frantically Lyanna called for help. The entire castle was in a tittering uproar over the whole situation.
"When will Anya get better!?" Benjen practically demanded from both Lyanna and the Maester.
Lyanna stayed silent but the Maester responded.
"Your sister needs rest. She is young and her body has been pushed further than it should. Her mind is tired and has forced her into falling asleep so that it may heal."
Neither Stark sibling say anything but both think the same thought in their minds.
'This is my fault'
Benjen believes it his fault. Believes he should have been more adamant in Anya spending time with him instead of letting her continue prepping for the Lady gathering. It's his fault he never noticed she hardly slept or ate enough. Lyanna thinks the same. She is to blame for Anya fainting and becoming so sick she must stay in bed.
Regardless, both Stark children feel guilt eat at them from the inside.
The heavy atmosphere gets disrupted when Rickard Stark enters the room. Whilst the Maester bows, the two children startle. Lyanna looks down unable to meet her father's gaze, Benjen simply grips Anya's hand tighter. Rickard Stark looks at his three younger children with a stony expression. No visible emotion flits across his face, not until his gaze settles on Anya's sleeping form.
Pain. Panic. Fear- Just a few emotions to list how Rickard Stark felt in that moment. To him the scene was much too similar to the loss of his wife. Anya- with her softer features and lighter complexion- looks so much like his beloved Lyarra. For a second the Lord of Winterfell believes he is re-living his nightmare. The Maester explains Anya's condition and though he is reassured, it will do nothing for the pain in his chest. Nothing will temper it, not until she awakens. He knows how he must look, how he must seem. He does not feel it in him to care. He dismisses the Maester and commands there be guards at the door. Soon it is just him and his children left by Anya's bedside.
Lyanna still does not look up but Benjen has begun to sniffle.
"Anya will need rest, ensure she receives such."
His tone is even and calm, by no means raised. He leaves as soon as he has spoken. Not even daring to touch or steal one last glance at his bedridden daughter. He can feel himself shutting out everything like before and he heads to his solar. Rickard Stark, once again does not leave his solar.
~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~
Barrowton is boring.
A fact, Brandon can confirm without hesitation. If he is not in lessons, or training with his sword then he is out riding. It had been boredom that led him to the taverns, boredom which led him to discovering the addiction of a whores, wet and warm cunt. Brandon was simply filled with boredom. Even now as he sharpens his blade, he can feel the detached interest choking him. He is sick of the routine, irritated with the men that trail after him in hopes he'd name them his squire or some other.
But above all he hates the constant attempts to hear of his sisters.
Brandon is aware that he is no thinker. He does not have the patience for it like his father and Ned. That does not mean he is stupid. He takes his lessons as the heir to Winterfell seriously. He cares for his people and he wants the best for them. He does not forget his responsibilities as the heir to House Stark. Above all he does not forget his responsibilities as the First born of his siblings.
He simply does not feel the need to hide his wants or watch his words.
These are the nature of his thoughts when he hears his name being heralded. Immediately, Brandon plasters a grin on his face and watches the man who called him. The name escapes him for a few before it quickly dawns on him.
Ethan Glover, one of the many who were looking to be squires.
"Ethan, I don't usually hear my name shouted like so unless my cock is in need. As flattered as I am, men are of no preference of mine." Brandon is japing and he adds a mocking smirk to his tease, but Ethan ignores it before hesitantly speaking.
"A letter has arrived for you. It is news from Winterfell."
Brandon furrows his brow, not liking the feeling in his gut. He has no patience for letter writing something his siblings understand and accept. He knows Anya writes almost daily to Ned, and is glad one of them has the patience to do so. He is satisfied with the occasional letter every week or so. Still… something tells him, he will soon grow upset and he is wary.
"A letter from Winterfell is no reason to shout my name." Brandon muses with nonchalance and Ethan visibly averts his eyes.
"There is talk that your sister has fallen ill."
Brandon pauses and he sheathes his sword. His thoughts race and he cannot help but remember the last time an illness befell his family. He feels his stomach swoop and dread fill his being. He does not say anything else, only packs his tools and makes his way to Barrow Hall. As he walks he cannot help but hear the whispers of those around him.
"Did you hear? The youngest Stark Daughter has grown ill." "She is on her deathbed they say. Sick with the illness that stole Lady Lyarra Stark." "Terrible what has happened. So soon with her name day approaching. What of the Lady gathering? Will it be cancelled?" "Of course she must be sickly, it must be the reason she is hidden away."
Brandon feels himself grow angrier with every step he takes and there is an urge to slaughter all the whispering peasants. They know nothing about Anya. They know nothing of her strength and her resilience. They know not what they say for they are ignorant. Brandon repeats these words to himself until he finally is handed the letter. He knows instantly that it is Benjen who writes and not Lyanna.
"Father will not leave his solar, and Lyanna is hard to find. The Maester claims Anya will be well in 4 days but I worry anyway. I have heard the small folk talk. They believe it is Mama's illness. I have asked and Maester has said it is not but they are mourning already. Ned is too far to send a raven as quickly and I am scared."
Brandon feels a small measure of pride at reading Benjen's words. Proud at how he is taking responsibility for he knows how Winterfell must be in this time. Still it does not temper the anger in him and he folds the letter and places it in his pocket.
"Fetch my horse." He orders.
He can already hear the uproar, and the gossip spreading but he does not care. He makes it to the raven tower and quickly writes a letter to both his brothers. He sends them off and returns to the courtyard and is not surprised to see Lord Dustin, red with anger and William Dustin wide eyed with interest.
"You cannot simply leave without notice." Lord Dustin blundered.
Brandon pushed past him and saddled his horse.
"Lord Stark entrusted me to-"
"I gave notice of my intentions to ride to Winterfell weeks before. I am simply leaving earlier. Regardless Lord Dustin, you can not stop me."
Brandon is openly challenging Lord Dustin, an action so rude and disrespectful he can already see many whispers beginning. He can tell that William Dustin is angry on his father's behalf but he does not care. He is needed in Winterfell and Barrowton is boring. Lord Dustin visibly thinks through his options and Brandon grins with many teeth on display. He knows he looks wild with such a smile, knows how it makes his eyes glint. He knows he has won when Lord Dustin can no longer meet his gaze.
"You will travel with a party."
"I will travel on my own. If you wish to send a party of men to follow then by all means do as you please."
"You cannot mean to leave now! You've no supplies!" William Dustin shouts
Brandon laughs and mounts his horse. Rearing back it's reigns and mockingly smirking at the Dustin House heir.
"A Stark never fears the wild, for we are born as such."
He leaves and does not care of how many responsibilities he is abandoning. Of how his image will suffer and the embarrassment he must have caused Lord Dustin with his open defiance. None of it matters for his sister needs him and his little brother is scared. He hopes Ned gets his letter and does not do anything too stupid.
Above everything Brandon Stark is an Older Brother and he will do anything for his siblings.
Ned
I ride to Winterfell the second this letter takes flight. I have sent with this Benjen's letter. I will handle it. Anya will be fine. I promise you Brother.
Your Brother,
Brandon.
~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~
Robert is drunk. He knows this is a fact as he wobbles his way back to his room. It was a night well spent, a wild night filled with whores and ale. His mind is muddled but by the sevens will, he finds his way back to his room without mistake. At first he thinks it is his drunken mind tricking him, and he readies a loud laugh and joyful greeting. Only when he gets closer does he realize- No….. it truly is Ned Stark guzzling back a large jug of what is either wine or ale.
"Bloody Hell Ned? What in the sevens name are you doing outside my room?"
At least Robert thinks he says that, he's not entirely sure.
Unable to hold his drunken self up any longer, he collapses beside the Northerner with a heavy thump. Ned does nothing but continue to stare at the parchment in his hand. Robert squints at it before realizing his friend is holding a letter from a sibling. Robert hacks out a loud laugh and claps Ned on the back.
"Another letter from a sister then. What now did that Wild She-wolf sister do? Eh?"
The first sign something is wrong, is when Ned does not reply but simply chugs another helping of whatever he is drinking. Robert's drunken mind sobers at visibly watching the quiet wolf gulp the drink like he breathes air. The second is when Ned thrusts the letter into Roberts hand and returns to drinking like he is dying.
It is enough for Robert to grow sober.
Warily, Robert opens the letter and reads. He is only three sentences in when he understands his Northern friends plight.
"Is it Lyanna?" Robert asks, as she is the only sister he can remember the name for.
The bottle has emptied and Ned throws it with such force, Robert can't help but be impressed. He intends to jape or say something that mayhaps be stupid but Ned speaks before he can.
"Anya."
There is something in the way Ned says his sister's name. Robert cannot bring himself to say anything so he simply stares. To Robert, Ned has always looked anguished and Broody, much too serious and in need of a good fuck. This is not the same Ned and Robert does not know what to do.
Ned feels a rage build inside him and the mix of wine and ale in his belly encourages it. He had not expected Benjen to write him, most of all Brandon. Not when he was expecting a letter from Anya instead. When he had finished the letter, Ned's first thought was to leave, return back to Winterfell and see to her himself. If he were more like Brandon or Lyanna, he would have. But Ned knew he could not, that the consequences would be too great. Which brought him here, stewing in anger at how helpless he is out here in the South.
The rage and anger fills him until it is all he can think and feel. It is the only thing he clings to as he does not wish to stew in fear. Ned knows why his feet had brought him to Robert's door. Why he had snatched and filled the jug with whatever alcohol he came across in the kitchens. He is in need of a distraction and who better than to help him than Robert Baratheon.
When Ned speaks and informs Robert he wishes to take him up on his offer, Robert is unsure. Still he plasters a smirk and lets out a belly aching laugh, and leads Ned back to the tavern he'd just came from. Ned can barely walk straight and Robert sways on his feet but together they still find their way. The tavern is still busy with drunken men and whores that cry out for pleasure. Robert is use to such environment but Ned is not.
Ned stares at his surroundings and wonders why Brandon and Robert enjoy such a place. It is loud, hot and filled with the stench of sweat. Still he follows Robert and does not say no when the Baratheon ushers a whore into his lap. 'Lighten up Stark' he hears one of the men cry out. He ignores the whore and the men and continues to drink. The rage in him cooling into a cold burn- much like frost. He is unaware of how curiously Robert quietens and simply watches him.
Ned's presence has now become known and all the men begin to jape and call out to him. The Quiet wolf of the North, Eddard Stark the savage from Winterfell, his titles are many. Some spit insults at him, as men tend to do and Robert is quick to rally to Ned's defense. Throughout it all, Ned simply regards them with a cool and piercing stare and says nothing. His silence becomes too much and one of them snaps a comment that releases the wild raging anger within him.
"Pah! Ain't nothing going to be spoken by the mute fucker. The Northern shit don't need no more attention. Nothing but a waste of a good cunt if you bitches keep trying. Come o'er here girly and let my cock fill you happy." The drunken man hollers, dragging the whore who'd been trying for Ned, into his own lap. With a filthy smirk, he dips his fingers beneath her skirts and sneers at Ned.
"The only girly he'd ever want to fuck, may well be his own sister."
Robert immediately stiffens and looks to Ned as the rest of the men howl with laughter. The Baratheon heir makes a move to speak but the expression on Ned's face stops him. It is curiosity, that stops Robert from trying to interfere. Fascination as well at seeing the sudden spike of blood lust reflected in Ned's eyes. Most of all, intrigue at how the Quiet wolf can feel Fury like a Baratheon but remain as cold as the North he hails from.
It is Ned who throws the first punch, everyone watches it happen in shock. But soon after the shock wears off and they are all clambering to get a piece of the Savage from the North. Robert watches for a little while longer, a large and wide grin forming on his lips. He feels the blood in his veins thrum with want for battle. His fingers twitch for the handle of his war hammer. Ned is lost to the fight, so lost he does not realize the image he makes.
When Robert joins the battling bodies, it is done with a war cry of absolute delight. Back to Back the Baratheon and Stark fight and they dominate with ease. They are still both young, and have yet to taste real battle, real wars. But in this tavern they prove they will never be defeated when fighting together. Robert can't help but reflect on his late mother's words when he had been a young boy, learning about the many houses of Westeros.
'Beware the Fury of a Baratheon, but do not forget the Burn of the cold. For it is the wolves that survive the harshest of weathers and they whose king bowed for the life of his people and not the fear of Dragons.'
Robert had never understood why his parents had been adamant he be wary of the North. Why his mother would insist he never underestimate House Stark. Amidst this drunken battle, he thinks he can understand why. With another laugh, Robert repeatedly pounds a mans head into a table, and relishes at seeing the hidden satisfaction in Ned's eyes. On this night the quiet wolf hunted with the help of a stag.
~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~
It is late when Anya first stirs. Her room is lit by the glow of a dying fire. Her hand griped in someone's hold and she is thirsty. She spots a mug with water and weakly reaches for it. When her throat feels better and she feels some semblance of energy she notices her surrounding. Benjen is curled up by her side and Lyanna is asleep in a chair, griping her hand. Anya is confused, as the last thing she remembers is trying to teach Lyanna how to sit like a Lady.
"You've awaken"
Anya startles at the deep voice that breaks the silence. Her surprise turns into embarrassment and shock at seeing it is her Father. Rickard Stark stares at her with a stiff expression and she moves to sit up properly. Only stopping when he gives a piercing stare at her actions.
"Your siblings are sleeping still."
Anya stiffens and remembers that Lyanna and Benjen are beside her. Slowly she eases herself back down and ensures Benjen is covered and Lyanna is comfortable. She does not see how Rickard's eyes express both fondness and pain at watching her.
"What happened father?" She questions
Rickard settles into the chair closer by the fire and observes his youngest daughter. She knows nothing of the panic she caused. Does not know that her siblings had been most distressed and that Winterfell was in an uproar. She does not know of how widely talk of her 'illness' has spread and the chaos it has wrought. Rickard can't help but smile at how clearly she is Lyarra's daughter, oblivious to the waves she makes.
He remembers his beloved's words 'She will pave a simple path and live each day as it is given. Wherever she goes all will know Winter is coming'. It is clear to him that Anya has filled the hole Lyarra left in their children. Can tell she has become Winterfell's heart.
"You fainted from exhaustion."
He watches her eyes widen and catches how she pulls Lyanna and Benjen closer. He sees her chest heave in guilt and knows already where her thoughts have gone. He does not reach out to comfort her,or speaks any words to reassure. She had scared them all and he is disappointed in her for being so careless about her health. Disappointed in himself for forgetting she is still young.
"I've assigned several maids to aid in preparations for your name day gathering."
He sees her want to argue, and is amused at how she clamps her mouth shut so not to speak against him. He feels his heart lighten at how well he knows her thoughts. How he knows why she wishes to protest. Out of her siblings, Anya had never liked to feel as if she was burdening others. She is proudly independent but he will not budge on this. When she does not argue, he knows she understands.
Rickard can't help but wish his more wild children could understand his reasons as easily as Anya.
"Yes Father."
There is nothing more needed to say and he can tell she is tired. He rises from his seat and reaches a hand to her head. Leaning forward he places a kiss on her head and whispers quietly into her ears.
"You must care for yourself, as well. Winterfell can not handle another 4 days without you"
He sees her hands clench tighter and knows that she is in shock at how long she has slept. When he leaves, she has pulled Lyanna into bed and is curling into both siblings. His lips twitch at the sight of them and he thanks Lyarra and the Gods for their gifts to him.
~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~
When morning comes, Lyanna and Benjen cling to her. Anya suffers through Lyanna's angry berating and Benjen's crying and earnestly apologizes. She is surprised and slightly affronted by how the help and people of Winterfell clamber to ask after her health. When even Dorrick goes out of his way to ensure she is well, Anya is not ashamed to admit she ran and hid in Benjen's rooms. When she does like Lyanna and rants due to confusion, about Winterfell's strangeness, she falters at noting how Benjen says nothing in agreement.
"You scared Lya. She was screaming for a maid and I heard from all the way here. You simply fell and would not waken. Father wouldn't leave his solar and I couldn't find Lyanna anywhere. The small folk said it was much like when Mama fell ill"
Benjen's voice warbles and Anya swallows the guilt in her throat. She had wished Benjen never remembered what it had been like when Mama died. She pulls him into a hug and simply holds him tight.
"I'm sorry. I'll be better."
Later she is surprised when Lyanna completes her lady teachings swiftly. In truth, Anya had worried that Lyanna had fallen ill. When she comments as such, she yelps in surprise when Lyanna launches herself at her.
"I thought you dead Anya. It is my fault you exhausted yourself."
Anya immediately opens her mouth to argue but Lyanna talks over her with ease.
"NO it is true. I am no lady yet you believe I am. You spent so long trying to teach me despite all your other duties and it tired you so much."
Anya again opens her mouth to protest but is talked over once more.
"I can't lose you Anya. You can't leave us or else Father will never leave his solar again."
It's only when she feels the wetness on her shoulder that she realizes Lyanna is crying. She thinks Lyanna is saying more but she can't understand due to the sniffling and heaving sobs. They spend the rest of the day curled together. Anya listens as Lyanna speaks as they always do, and privately she thinks that she hopes this passes soon.
She hates that she worried Father. Hates that she is behind schedule in arranging things for the Lady gathering. Hates that Lyanna screamed with fear and that she had made her sister cry. She hates that Benjen knows the fear of waiting by a ill one's bedside. She hates how everyone has become strange in Winterfell all cause she fell asleep.
It takes a week for things to return back to normal. For Winterfell to forget that she had fallen ill. For Lyanna to go back to shouting, and allowing Anya to be alone. It surprised her that Benjen recovered quickest but she is too thankful to notice how he pays the cooks daughter to check on her daily. Over all Anya does not care, she is simply happy that things have returned to how they were. Only now she ensures she sleeps plenty and eats when needed. Too afraid of falling ill and having everyone be weird once more.
It is almost as if it is an forgotten dream… at least until Father joins them for breakfast with a thunderous frown on his lips.
"Is everything well?" Anya inquires as Benjen and Lyanna look on.
Rickard Stark rubs at his temples before he speaks,
"Brandon will be returning to Winterfell. He should arrive in a week or so's time."
Lyanna lights up in glee and Benjen smiles like he'd won a war. Anya however knows there is more from how her father scowls at his plate. Hesitantly she prompts him for more.
"It would seem Brandon had openly disrespected Lord Dustin before leaving. He also opted to travel on his own without the company of any guards or supplies. The foolish boy. I had also received a raven from Lord Arryn."
"What is it? Did something happen to Ned?" Lyanna instantly prompts.
"It appears he and the Baratheon heir instigated a drunken brawl at one of the taverns. Lord Arryn has assured me that Robert Baratheon avidly took the blame for the incident. Yet his involvement can not be ignored and expenses must be paid."
Rickard notes that his children are gaping but it is Benjen who voices it.
"Ned started a drunken brawl!?"
"More than that NED was DRUNK!"
Rickard waves their prattle off, finishes of his meal and leaves to fix the mess his sons have made. He leaves behind his three younger children. Lyanna feels nothing but awe and pride at the actions of her older brothers. Anya is certain this is the work of the Gods. This is a sign that she must never falter in health again or else the world may grow mad. Only Benjen stays seated quietly with a content smile on his lips. The youngest Stark child satisfied that his letters had reached his brothers and soon Brandon will be home. He is sure that with Brandon home, Anya will be able to rest more and Lyanna will have someone to spar with other than himself. Benjen finished his morning meal with a sunny smile.
In his solar away from watchful eyes. Rickard Stark finds himself smiling as he writes a letter of apology to Lord Arryn and Dustin. He cannot help but marvel at how deeply Lyarra's cunning runs through the blood of his children.
