I ended up using Oc's because it was hard and I was lazy. Slots are still open for any OC lady characters you wanna pitch.


Chapter 6: The Gathering of Ladies.

Brandon's arrival to Winterfell was announced late into the night. The Stark family had been in the middle of evening meal when the guards heralded the news. Rickard Stark had not been surprised at Lyanna's abrupt abandoning to greet her brother. At least Benjen had been polite enough to attempt a mumbled excuse before bounding not long after his eldest sister.

"Father, may I be excused?" Anya patiently asked

Rickard Stark held back a chuckle at the expression on his youngest Daughters face. He had no doubt that she was despairing at the rude manner Lyanna had left the table. Since Anya's recovery from her illness, Lyanna had been improving in the ways of a Lady. Though in such moments, where her excitement or temper proved too much, she still lacked discipline.

The Lord of Wintefell was simply relieved to know Anya was actively taking better care of herself. The scare had him paranoid, ensuring to check in on all three of his children's health and well-being. Still shaken over seeing one of his gifts from his love, ill and bedridden.

With a simple nod of his head, the both of them rose to go greet Brandon.

Upon arriving at the Courtyard, they easily spotted Brandon. He was being hounded and clung too by both Lyanna and Benjen, and his laughter rung loud. Rickard eyed Anya with subtlety, and his heart clenched at seeing the soft gleam in her eyes and tiny smile on her lips. He knew then with absolute certainty that his youngest daughter will be a great beauty in the future. Something that troubled him as it meant the attentions of many males.

Anya was not like Lyanna, who Rickard was assured could fight off any suitor with her voice alone. Anya was quiet, demure and polite. He worried that a day may come where she would fall victim to a persistent hot blooded male, who did not understand the word no.

"Anya!" Brandon called out, effectively pulling Rickard from his worries of the Future.

Anya does not run to Brandon's arms, though the urge to do so is strong. She does her best to curtsy and politely welcome him home like a proper lady. Only this is Brandon and she is not surprised when she doesn't get halfway through before he pulls her into his arms.

Brandon clutches Anya tightly, burrowing his nose in her hair and confirming she is well. She smells of winter lilies, a soft scent that tickles his nose. He lifts her in his embrace and takes note that she is lighter than Lyanna but not by much. He knows that she is glad to see him only by the fact that she is squeezing him just as tightly.

When she wiggles to pull apart, Brandon is reluctant but in the end complies.

It is then he comes to the most startling realization.

"Why have you come back so soon!?" Anya questions with a slight frown of confusion

Lyanna is quick to speak instead, leaving Brandon to stew in his shock.

"Must you question it! Bran is back, that's the best news we've gotten since forever!"

As Lyanna moves to stand by Anya's side, Brandon feels another wave of dreadful understanding. The sister's begin to bicker and take no notice of how the males in their family watch on silently. Benjen eyes both his father and brother, trying to see what it is that has them so quiet. He is too young to understand and so does not see it.

Brandon however does. His eyes drink in the sight of his little sisters as they stand side by side. He had not been home for so long that their growth is hard to miss. Lyanna, who he remembered to be a scruffy thing. Small, with her face much too long and her eyes a tad to wide; has started to grow into her features. She is also taller with what is looking to grow into a willowy figure. Her fierce features hinting at the wild beauty she'll posses once she has come to age.

His gaze shifts to Anya and it is more blatant that she too has grown. His youngest sister had always been smaller than Lyanna by a few inches, yet now they are practically the same height. Where Lyanna is fierce in features like himself and their brothers. Anya had inherited their mothers softer brows and bone structure. Even as she stands, bickering with Lyanna, he can see the grace in her posture. The frown on her lips and the furrow of her brows are done so gently that Brandon forgets for a second that it is his sister and not his mother.

They are only at 9 years but they are already growing to be great beauties.

Instantly, Brandon knows that he does not like it.

He looks to his father and they silently agree to a discussion later into the night.

"Did you not miss me Anya?" Brandon jumps in, breaking apart the bickering duo

"Of course I missed you, don't be stupid" Anya huffs in a low mumble

He sees the tips of her ears grow pink with a slight flush to her cheeks. He can't help the boyish grin that spreads on his lips. An expression that is duplicated on Lyanna's face as well.

"A lady does not mumble, sister" Lyanna teases causing Benjen to giggle.

"And since when have you cared for the manners of a Lady?" Brandon counters

"Since Father promised Lyanna and I a whole month free of lessons." Benjen pipes

Brandon doesn't bother hiding the look of betrayal he casts at his father. Rickard looks on without shame already knowing where his eldest child's thoughts have gone. Immediately, Brandon calls attention to the unfairness.

"Lies. Father never let Ned and I have so much as a 3 day break from lessons! He'd never approve to give you a MONTH!"

Sure, Brandon can vaguely remember skimming through a letter from Ned and his father about it. He thinks it had something to do with this Lady Gathering or mayhaps with Anya's nameday. Though he never once thought Father was serious. He'd been sure it'd been something said to hush Lyanna's wails about sword fighting.

"It's true. Father promised that if Lyanna and Anya can prove themselves capable ladies during the Lady Gathering that we'd have no lessons for a month." Benjen insists

Brandon throws his head back and roars with laughter.

"Oh Gods. Good one Father. I truly thought you'd turn mad in allowing a month off from lessons."

Lyanna shoves Brandon causing him to stumble backwards onto his rear. Her grey eyes glint angrily and her face turns red due to his laughter. Brandon can't help but continue to snicker into his arm.

"What do you mean by that!?"

"Well, It's obvious isn't it? There's no way you're going to be able to become a Lady. Not in time for the Lady Gathering anyway. Besides, you said it yourself, you're no lady. "

Lyanna's face has turned bright red with anger and her fists are shaking. In the background, Rickard despairs at his eldest born's lack of tact and Benjen cringes away from Lyanna's anger. Still snickering, Brandon is incredibly unaware of the anger he'd sparked in his sister. As such he sputters in surprise and disgust when Lyanna kicks at the muddy earth and splatters dirt in Brandon's face.

"Ugh! Lyanna!"

"NO one asked YOUR opinion" Lyanna angrily spat before stomping back into the castle.

They all watch her leave with various expressions. When Brandon next looks up, after wiping his face, he's met with disapproving looks and glares.

"What!? You know I speak true. No lady lets her temper run so blatantly as Lyanna does."

"She's been trying really hard Bran" Benjen quietly pipes up, not sure if he wants to risk his older brother's temper. Though his memories of Brandon are slightly hazy, he knows enough to remember that Brandon and Lyanna are both wildly similar. At least from what Anya has told him.

"Yes well, obviously she's still got much to learn" Brandon stubbornly replies, unwilling to feel guilty.

Anya is disappointed that Brandon lacks faith in Lyanna, but not surprised. Even Ned, from his place in the south, has not bothered to hide his lack of faith. It only makes Anya more determined to prove them wrong and show Lyanna can be a lady. Anya believes too much in her sister to think otherwise.

Rather than continuing the topic, Anya chooses to change it. Kneeling and again hugging Brandon, she breathes his scent. She curls her fingers in his tunic and listens to the steady thrum of his heart and breathing. She sinks into the joyous feeling of having one of her big brothers returned to her.

"I missed you." She mumbles into his chest as she feels his arms wrap around her once more.

Brandon suddenly feels a wave of guilt overcome him. It should not have taken a letter about Anya being sick to have him ride for Winterfell. He should have made more effort to respond to her letters. Agreed to ride home for Winterfell for visits, rather than choose to hunt and explore with the other men in Barrowton.

However what's done is done and Brandon cannot change the past.

"I'm here now. SO tell me little sister. What else have I missed?"

Anya sighs but does not respond, instead Benjen is the one to speak. Brandon only then notices that his father is no longer with them. He walks the halls of Winterfell once more, with Anya silently walking beside him and Benjen babbling away. Brandon can't help but fall silent at how Benjen and Anya interact.

"You are much too excited Benjen." Anya lightly scolds

"But Anya, Bran's missed so much! I haven't even told him bout Lyanna and the chickens!"

"I'm sure Lyanna will want to tell the story herself. You've already stayed past your bed time, and you still have lessons in the morning."

For Brandon it is like watching a memory from the past. Anya- who is so much like his mother, and Benjen- whose excitement is something he had as a boy. It hurts to see such a sight and suddenly Brandon thinks of his father. He wonders how his father has coped with living with such a sight. The numbness in Brandon's heart pulses with pain and he readily ignores it.

They've bid Benjen goodnight, and now it is only Anya and Brandon who walk the halls of Winterfell. It is quiet for the first few and Brandon can only stand it for so long before deciding to break it.

"You know, I've yet to see you smile upon my arrival. How am I to believe you truly missed me if you show no expression?" Brandon off handily comments.

"Is a smile all you need to convince yourself, you are wanted?" Anya counters

No, Brandon thinks, but it will assure him she can still do so.

"Would you have written me, and informed me you were ill?" Brandon says instead.

The atmosphere between them has grown heavy. Anya knows that it is not Brandon- the brother that loves to do as he pleases without care. She is talking to Brandon- her older brother who she knows will slay dragons and monsters for her protection. So it is for this brother, that Anya lets her mask crumble and she gives to Bran a soft sweet smile, answering his question with stark honesty.

"No. I would not have written"

Brandon instantly wants to be angry. He wants to yell at his ridiculous little sister who is so ready to sacrifice herself. He wants to berate her for thinking she means so little to him that she'd keep him in the dark if she were to be ill or dying so not to be a inconvenience.

But…

Anya is smiling at him, soft and sweetly. Her mask is no longer in play and he is lost to the softness of her gaze. Her grey eyes are so bright- bright with joy that he is here in the flesh. That he had come despite her not writing anyway. Anya- his shy sweet little sister is smiling at him and she is happy.

So Brandon swallows the angry words in his throat and scoffs loudly.

"Ah! I see it now. You surely are sly little sister" He hums

"What?"

At seeing Anya's honest confusion, Brandon smirks wickedly

"It's obvious to me that you faked your illness so I can attend your lady gathering. Am I right? Honestly Anya, asking me to come so the Ladies of the North will be appropriately pleased would have brought me here anyhow!" He boastfully voices with a nudge and wink implying outlandish thoughts.

It is worth it to see the scrunch of disgust on Anya's face.

"Barrowton has turned you into a pig, brother"

"I simply complied with the women's wishes to assist in pleasurable explorations."

Anya rolls her eyes before huffily bidding him goodnight. As she leaves him laughing in the halls, he just manages to hear her quietly huffed mutter.

"First Ned and his drunken brawls, now Brandon and his shameless boasting. I worry, how great will the madness grow if all of my family were to be reunited in Winterfell. The gods must still be punishing me for neglecting my health"

Brandon's laughter is cut short as his mind is stuck on what he had heard.

Ned… quiet and obedient Ned… A drunken Brawl!?

How much did he miss by not exchanging letters?

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Rickard is waiting for his eldest son in his solar. In no time, he can hear the loud footsteps approaching his door, and so he places his quill down. In a very dramatic fashion, Brandon throws open the door with his face set in a irritated scowl. As Brandon predictably begins his angry rant over Rickard not informing him personally about Anya's sickness, Rickard studies the changes in his heir.

Brandon at 10 and 6 years is well on the verge of becoming a man. The child fat in his cheeks leaving, allowing a fierce and strong jawline on display. The beginning of a beard already growing and his shoulders have grown broader. Brandon is undeniable proof that his children are growing and soon he will lose them to the games of adulthood.

"What is this I hear of Ned and drunken brawls!?" Brandon brazenly demands.

"Take a seat." Rickard calmly instructs, Brandon's mouth opens to protest but a heavy glare has him collapsing into the seat with tightly sealed lips.

Rickard inwardly shook his head at the petulant expression on Brandon's face. Perhaps, Brandon was not entirely ever going to grow out of his stubborn boyish nature. It only made Rickard worry that the same may be true about Lyanna.

"Your brother, appeared to have received you letter. It would also appear that news of Anya's health had worried him so greatly, he had taken the Baratheon heir's offer on a distraction."

Rickard subtly studied the angry scowl that Brandon sported at the mention of the Baratheon heir. He knew his children well enough to know that Brandon was not pleased with Ned's choice of friend. His children were certainly territorial, something he could not blame Lyarra for passing on. It proved his children were equal mixes of him and his love.

Brandon was unaware of his father's thoughts. Instead the Stark Heir was consumed with anger and jealousy that this so called Robert Baratheon had grown close to his brother. Ned- who was always so proper and well behaved, getting caught for a drunken brawl. Worst, was that Brandon was not there to protect or witness the event. Instead this Robert Baratheon had seemingly replaced him and helped Ned experience the finer life of the wild side.

A fucking Stag.

Brandon's fists began to curl and a sharp gleaming scowl formed on his lips. Rickard observed all this and calmly reached for the scroll on his left. Without bothering to look at Brandon, Rickard held the scroll out. It did it's job of catching Brandon's attention and curiosity.

"What is this?"

"Read it."

Brandon looked ready to argue once more but another stern look had him obeying. Once again Rickard inwardly despaired at the similarities between Brandon and Lyanna. He feared that there was no hope in taming the wild wolf blood in the two. Evidently, fostering had not done much in calming the wild in Brandon. Rickard only had one option left and he dreaded what reactions it would bring from both wolf blooded children.

"Father… This is…"

Rickard could see the understanding dawn in Brandon's eyes. So he watched as slowly that understanding morphed to anger. Hot blooded, wildly uncontrollable anger that was begging to be unleashed. Rickard kept his expression cool and calm, even when Brandon slammed the scroll back on the table. The boy was fuming but Rickard felt nothing but cold detachment at the sight.

Brandon had to understand, had to know that this was his final chance.

Or else….. Rickard had no other option.

"The Ladies chosen from each Noble Northern house will arrive within the upcoming weeks. Should I discover that you have defiled or embarrassed any of them. You leave me no choice."

Brandon began to shake with repressed anger but beneath it all, there were tiny traces of hurt. Hurt that his father would threaten him with the one thing Brandon had deliberately not thought about. Brandon swallowed at the dryness of his throat when his father's cold grey eyes stared him down. He knew then that it was Lord Stark of Winterfell before him and not his father. This man had a heart of ice.

This man…. Had only half a soul and rarely felt sympathy.

"You will not ruin your sister's hard work. Are we in agreement."

Brandon grit his teeth and swallowed the protest he wished to roar.

"Yes Father."

Rickard nodded and silently dismissed Brandon from his solar. His eldest child wasted no time in leaving. Finally alone, he slumped in his chair and buried his face in his hands. His doubts ran rampant in his mind and suddenly Rickard felt as if he had made a grave mistake. Perhaps in this moment he had just lost the trust of his son.

Reaching for the scroll, he read over the listed names. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Rickard prayed to the old gods and Lyarra. He prayed and begged them, hoping that they would guide him to do right by his children. Guide him so he may ensure his children are safe from the monsters that may wish to consume them.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Weeks passed and suddenly, the traveling parties escorting Noble Northern Ladies began to arrive. The small folks of Wintertown could barely keep their excitement contained. Already, the bannermen were making their presence known. The morning would be filled with the clashing of swords as some men sparred and their rowdy shouts. Evening would be filled with laughter, japes and drunken singing. The small folks easily catered to the visitors and made plenty of coin.

From the safety of the castle walls, Anya did her best to calm her racing heart.

She had awoken early due to the clashing of steel and the loud cheering of men in the courtyard. Brandon had taken it as his duty to properly welcome the men and had been keeping them pleasant. The Ladies they escorted were settled into their rooms until all safely arrived, only then would Anya and Lyanna properly greet them. Anya had argued it would show that they value every house equally and that none will be treated preferably over the other.

In truth, Anya was nervous,

The weight of the event settled heavily on her shoulders and her mind could not cease it's worries. She'd not seen Lyanna last night and felt mild panic that Lyanna would forget. It would not be too presumptuous in thinking Lyanna heard the clashing of steel and had raced to see it in a tunic and breeches. If that were the case than this entire scheme would fail before even beginning.

A knock on her door, startled Anya out of her thoughts. She straightened her dress and allowed entry. She did not expect it to be Brandon. There was tension between father and Brandon, Anya knew, but the reason was lost to her. Simply seeing her eldest Brother's grin, Anya felt a little calmer.

"Do you always rise so early little sister?" Brandon teased before mussing her hair.

The irritation in her eyes would be the only sign that she hated him doing so. However, Unlike Ned, Brandon never looked too deeply at things and only saw Anya's mask in play.

"Only when the clash of steels ring so loudly" She intoned with a light frown.

Brandon shook his head but privately took note to usher the men further away from Anya's chambers. Lack of sleep is what made her ill, so Brandon will ensure Anya slept as peacefully as possible.

"I come with a gift" Brandon announces.

"Oh?"

Brandon preens at the childish tone Anya speaks with and the twitch of her lips. With outlandish hand movement, Brandon then reveals a wrapped cloth in his hand. Anya accepts the gift and places it on her bed to unwrap it. All the while, Brandon watches her expression intently. When the gift is finally revealed, Anya cannot hold back the gasp of awe and surprise.

Two daggers lay innocently on the cloth wrapping. One is thin and the length of Anya's arm and the other is short and wide. The shorter blade curves slightly and looks to be shaped like a fang. Anya trails a finger lightly over their hilts and is amazed at the craft. On both handles there are patterned carvings coming to unite at the dire wolf head shaped pummel.

"I would gift you direwolves but they are no easy find."

Anya finally looks up from the weapons and stares at Brandon. Gone is his usual boisterous persona and instead he looks at her with gentle eyes and a soft smile. There is nothing wild about him in this moment and he looks at ease. For the first time, Anya is able to see in Brandon what similarities they share in features.

"Though I will always slay monsters in your name and protection. I wish you comfort in knowing you are not helpless. "

"You should have given these to Lyanna." Anya blurts and inwardly cringes at how rude it sounds.

She does not want to hurt Brandon by rejecting his gift. Yet she can not accept it knowing that Lyanna has cried and begged for such weapons for years. It is unfair and Anya feels her stomach tighten at the thought of returning such wonderful gifts.

Brandon surprises her by laughing loudly and mussing her hair once more.

"You are too sweet Anya. I am not so blind that I do not see you yearn for a blade like Lyanna. Since my return I've watched you stay quiet each time Lyanna pleads and begs for such things. In those moments you are most like Ned and I know you wish the same just as much."

Brandon calms and Anya is in awe at the air of maturity that suddenly surrounds him.

"You and Ned, are patient and kind. There is goodness inside of you that Lyanna and myself struggle to share and express. I gift you these so it may be protected"

Anya feels her eyes tear and she is overwhelmed with how much she missed Brandon all these years. When he catches her teary eyes, she sees him look panicked but she does not let him contemplate it long. This time Anya lunges at Brandon and clings to him tightly, this time when she pulls away she kisses him sweetly on the cheek.

Brandon is in shock but his heart stops at the words Anya next speaks.

" I love you Bran."

For the first time since his mother died, Brandon feels warmth in his heart. He clutches Anya and laughs once more at the feeling.

"Happy nameday Anya."

After Brandon leaves, Anya stares at the blades. Brandon had made a hasty retreat soon after reminding her to name her pets. Pets. Their own secret code when referring to her gifts. There is a thrill in keeping a secret. This will be the first thing in her life she can not tell Lyanna about. Anya feels guilt but there is something else….. she doesn't dwell too long on it.

By the time night falls, Anya has had plenty of visits. Lyanna had barreled into her room calling her twin and singing loudly. Benjen had knocked and adorably given her freshly picked flowers and sweets from the kitchens. Then she'd been left a lemon cake on a platter at her door. Anya did not hesitate to bite the treat and she did little to stop the smile on her lips. It is then she notices the letter beneath the lemon cake.

Anya reaches for the letter.

When she finishes, Anya can not help but cry.

Today she is 9 and Anya knows without a doubt that she is loved and always wanted.

Anya doesn't hear the knock on her door. Not even when her door is opened and her father walks in. Rickard approaches Anya and gently places an arm on her shoulder. It is all simply too much and she clings to her father. Rickard holds Anya in his arms and he is not unaware of how long it has been since he last held her in his arms.

Over her shoulder, Rickard reads the last of Ned's letter to Anya.

Mother will be proud of the Lady you have become. Do not doubt yourself.

We need you Anya.

Rickard can't help but be proud of his sons. He knows of Brandon's gifts to Anya. Grateful to Ned and his letter to Anya. Both boys somehow knowing that Anya needed reassurance and confidence. When Anya pulls away and wipes at her face. Both father and Daughter act as if nothing had happened.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

By morning, all of the Ladies from the Northern houses had arrived. Finally the gathering of Ladies could begin. The small folk crowded together, all eager to peer at the many noble young ladies awaiting their greeting from the Stark sisters. Lord Rickard Stark had welcomed them first along with his eldest son Brandon Stark and youngest son Benjen. The Stark men then kindly informed them that they will be greeted and hosted by his daughters once everyone had arrived.

Of course many of the ladies had plenty to say. Particularly Barbary Ryswell whose presence was also due to her betrothal to William Dustin. Already her reputation as a sharp tongued women was beginning to circulate. Her sister, Bethany was present as well, representing her betrothed husbands house, House Bolton. Some houses- such as House Karstark and Umber had thrown a fit about allowing two Ryswell's to be present, but Anya had it approved and Rickard saw no real issue in it.

The men were practically tripping and drooling over each other. Unable to pull their eyes from the sight of so many beautiful young ladies together. At the same time the hostility between the males increased aggressively. Neither house liking the eyes of other men eyeing their House and Lord's daughters with hunger.

From where he stood observing, Rickard cast one last prayer that the following week would not result in a war among the Northern Houses. Benjen eyed the women his sister's were to host with curious eyes. No one would suspect the young lord of intently scrutinizing and taking note of those who may cause trouble for either sister. Brandon had pulled Benjen aside earlier and schooled his brother on the truth about women when placed together alone.

Benjen had never thought beautiful women could possibly be so horrible underneath their polite words and compliments. Thanks to Brandon, Benjen thought for sure that he had marked those who he deemed as liars and fakes beneath their smiles.

Brandon kept a confident smirk on his lips as they waited for Lyanna and Anya to greet their guests. He did little to hide his lingering gaze on several women. Their ages ranged from older than 20 years to 3 and 10 years. None of the houses had sent any lady that would be of the same age as Anya or Lyanna. A ploy to have an older mind spy and report on his house. Brandon knew what these women were truly tasked with.

It made him grin with excitement and for the first time in years, Brandon did not feel boredom.

"With my upmost respect my Lord, Forgive me for questioning but when will we be greeted by your daughters?" Jorah Mormont respectfully spoke out, having escorted his sister to the gathering.

"The boy is impatient. Though he speaks true. My lady will need to rest soon, our journey was long." Another spoke, though he cowered as together the Stark men eyed him with the same imploring grey gaze.

"My sisters wish their guest the greatest comfort and most pleasurable stay whilst under their care. To do so takes time. You should feel flattered that they are attending to such matters personally." Brandon refutes with warning laced beneath his words.

He feels his father's warning for his suggestive words and wandering eyes but he easily ignores it. He spots William Dustin's scowl from where he stands behind his betrothed. The young lord still angry at his disrespect to his father. Only it is not the young lord that catches his eye but his betrothed. Brandon can see that Barbary Ryswell is eyeing him with more than respect… she eyes him with hunger. Brandon takes note of such fact for possible use later.

Finally, he hears a servant announce his sisters' arrival. Altogether, everyone quiets and waits for the Stark sister's appearance. The small folk of Wintertown eagerly watch House Stark and the Noble guests, eager to see their reactions. After all the small folk of Wintertown were a great factor in little Lady Anya's mysterious reputation. They will be sure to protect their Lord's daughters if need be.

It is Lyanna they all see first.

No one can properly hide their surprise. Many had been exposed to Lyanna Stark throughout their previous dealings with House Stark. Proper and Lady were not words used to describe the eldest Stark daughter. Males had not thought her beautiful as they'd always see her in mud and breeches. She was never demure like a lady should be, her mouth spitting words like a scrappy boy. Men wanted a girl who they could protect and care for and Lyanna loudly rejected all of that.

The girl that greets them is not she.

Hair braided and neatly styled like a true Northern lady. A dress of grey and white- the colors of House stark, tidy without a speck of dirt. A clean face with a sweet smile on light pink lips. Lyanna Stark looks nothing like a scrappy boy. She is clearly a budding winter rose soon to blossom. She is a true Lady. She must be- as she certainly appears so.

Brandon is truly wide eyed, Benjen is simply relieved that she'd appeared in a dress. Rickard however is the most taken back. Lyanna looks beautiful and the dress she wears simply highlights everything that she is if one took time to look. There are direwolves stitched round the bottom lining, all of them chasing one another. A light brown belt with a loop to hold a sword, he knows that it is it's purpose. White fur on the shoulders and the lining of her sleeves. The dress is beautiful but also designed for easy movement. Rickard knows that it was Anya who made it and he knows that Lyanna wears it with pride. It is the one dress Lyanna will proudly wear without argument.

"My Lords and Ladies, please forgive the delay."

Lyanna speaks softly but strongly. Her back does not slouch her lips do not scowl- she is beautiful.

Benjen grins and tugs at Brandon's hand and mouths his excitement. Benjen finally feels hope that they could succeed. Brandon scowls and glares at the interested gleam in several men's eyes.

"There is no need. We are all well versed in the stress one suffers when tending to the necessities of guest. After all it is no secret among ladies and women, is it not ?" Lyea Manderly replies with a sympathetic tilt of her head.

Only the women and those politically savvy hear the subtle mock beneath her words. They intently watch Lyanna for her response, seeking a hint of anger or beastly behavior. Lyanna only raises her brows and smiles sweetly- perhaps sickeningly sweet.

"Of course."

Some women are impressed with her restraint others sour that Lyanna did not ignite like they hoped. Rickard can only sigh as he can see the barely restrained outrage in Lyanna's eyes. All were in so much shock at Lyanna's arrival they had missed the quiet trailing form behind her. Only when she speaks does anyone notice.

"I disagree."

All eyes immediately settle on the person who stands beside Lyanna. They then widen with realization that it is the mysterious Anya Stark- youngest daughter of House Stark that they are seeing.

Everyone studies her intently, seeking any truth to the rumors they heard.

She is not ugly or disfigured as some suspected. She is fare of face and skin, delicate in appearance but not so much she looks sickly. Anya is dressed similar to Lyanna, only her dress is more simple. It is a bluish grey with white fur sewn onto the shoulders and collar. She also wears a hooded cloak that is thick and a deep black. The simplicity of her dress causes her to blend and go unnoticed among the other Ladies.

Anya is not looking at anyone, only Lyea Manderly.

"You are all guests, it is rude of us to make you wait and for that, apologies are needed"

The unspoken 'you should know this' is not missed by the gathered ladies.

Lyea swallows at the embarrassment of having a child of 9 years scold her so publicly. She sees that the other ladies are aware what has just occurred and she struggles to hide her reaction. By chance her eyes connect with the mysterious Stark daughter and she shivers. They are grey stones, hard and cold like winter snows. She is startled by the heavy intensity in the child's eyes. She feels a trickle of nerves prick at her spine and her posture falters slightly.

"Then you are forgiven. Now please, we were promise a feast. My belly groans for a meal and your delay worsens it's cries." Maege Mormont pipes in with a friendly grin.

Lyanna grins in return, interested in the only Lady who seems to be relaxed about being so proper. She does her best to hide her sudden interest, aware that all eyes are on her. She waits for Anya to reply, as Lady Mormont had addressed Anya solely.

After the greetings are done and the guests have been presented salt and bread. The welcoming feast begins with loud music and happy cries. Only for this night will the men be allowed present, after they feed they are to be escorted to their rooms whilst the ladies stay in the castle. All the Ladies are gathered at the head table, with Rickard and his children engaging them in conversation.

The servants who stand in attendance are unable to hide their stares. Everyone is in truth, watching Lyanna eat slow and dainty. At seeing her manners in play and hearing her speak so softly. Anya does not speak as much, in fact Brandon has seemingly inserted himself in any possible conversation she has. That does not stop the eyes that watch her always.

Though they are celebrating Anya's nameday, it is Lyanna who is stealing the show with her Lady manners. It is exactly as Anya had wanted and she is incredibly satisfied. So much so, she barely manages to hide her smirk at the envious and shamed stares some maid servants cast Lyanna.

"Aren't you happy Anya? If Lyanna keeps this up we can actually win this!" Benjen whispers into her ear.

She drinks more of her juice in reply, hiding her pleased expression. She is then surprised by the brush of her father's fingers against her hand. Looking to him with her mask in play, she tries not to beam when he nods at her.

"Happy Nameday Anya."

"Thank you father."

To those keenly listening, the exchange seemed cold and empty. However there are loaded emotions in the three words the Father daughter duo had exchanged. A congratulations, acknowledgement that Anya had exceeded his expectations. Pride and Love but also warning to not forget that this is only the beginning and there is still a week to complete.

Anya looks from the servant maids to the Noble ladies and finally the rowdy men from other Houses. She breathes a heavy breath and mentally readies herself for the challenge.

Let the games begin.