"Gods be good, why did Prince Rhaegar crown you?" Rickard questioned, staring at his daughter and firstborn child. "Why? Why did I have two troublesome children?"
"At least Ned and Ben aren't included in this talk," Brandon muttered, scowling and walking off at their father's glare. "And I am not-"
"You probably have multiple bastards," Lyanna retorted, her eyes narrowing as Brandon walked out of their tent. "Father, Princess Elia invited me to join her ladies when they go back to Dragonstone on the morrow. I said yes."
Rickard sighed and stared at her. "That does not answer my question but it does tell me of Princess Elia's interest. The princess would be interested in having the future Lady Baratheon as a lady in waiting but of Rhaegar's interest, I know not. We should have never gone south for the tourney."
Lyanna shook her head as they heard cheering outside, hearing the multiple numbers of smallfolk still yelling in praise of the future king. She wondered what King Aerys thought of his son crowning two women and then shrugged the thought off. "I am going and I am not wedding Robert. He can fuck off for all I care."
Rickard's eyes narrowed dangerously and he took a step towards her. "You are wedding Lord Robert. I should not have allowed you to be as wild as you are, Lyanna. We need a southern wedding."
"Brandon's marrying Lady Catelyn. We don't need another. Besides, did you see Robert at the opening ceremony? I am not marrying a man who already has women on his lap, who already has produced multiple bastards."
"You will do your duty," Rickard argued, his eyes flashing. "You can go to Dragonstone as a handmaiden to the princess as a way to see your future husband more often. I am the head of House Stark and your father, child. You will not disobey me."
Lyanna scowled and walked out of her father's tent, heading for her own. She saw Ned, Howland and Ben loitering around the firepit on the in front of her tent and sighed. Her draft horse stood picketed on the other side, munching on dry hay. She swore under her breath and sat down, picking at something on her dress. She had left her borrowed suit of armor under a bush near the lake, after she had left Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar, hiding it with a murmured spell.
She half missed it as she met Ned's eyes, wanting to cover herself up. It half reminded her of brushing her hair over her scar in her past life, covering it up with makeup to hide when she and her friends had gone to Diagon Alley after the war.
"What did father say?" Benjen questioned, peering at her worriedly.
"He said I can go to Dragonstone," Lyanna murmured, shrugging. "I may have to do something drastic to escape wedding Robert though. I don't…"
"Lyanna…" Ned trailed off, stopping at her glare.
"I'm not going to get kidnapped or anything," Lyanna retorted, brushing her long hair out of her face. Her fingers caught on a winter rose that had stayed in her hair even after she had taken the crown from her head. She cupped it in her palm and stuck her nose in it, inhaling the cold scent of winter and home. It was a beautiful flower, blue and icy white petals, and grew in the gardens of Winterfell. "I might resort to other… measures."
"Other measures?" Howland echoed, nodding to her when she met his pale eyes.
It had been his armor that she had borrowed to use for the tourney, with his only slightly hesitant permission.
"I don't know. I only know this. I'm not marrying Lord Robert Baratheon."
Lyanna glanced up at the night sky, seeing the full moon above her as it shone down onto the castle of Harrenhal. She shivered at the sight of the long burned stone, goosebumps spilling down her arms as she half thought she saw King Harren's ghost walking over the walls. She shut her eyes and then reopened them, seeing nothing there, and turned to look at her brothers.
"Then you're going to Dragonstone to be with the prince and princess," Benjen offered quietly. "Are you excited?"
"I am. Dragonstone is old," Lyanna said, as she gathered her hair all in one hand to start braiding it. She had let it down the moment she had taken off the helmet, preferring it down rather than straight up in a braid. Though… the hair styles of the south were vastly different than the ones in the north. Her mother had left hers down most of the time, at least from what she remembered. Lyarra Stark had died a month after birthing Benjen and she still missed her. "Old and with many secrets."
Benjen's lips twitched up into a grin and Lyanna returned it, opening her mouth to add something only to be interrupted by loud yelling.
The four of them turned to look at their father's tent, seeing the one Baratheon guardsman that stood out front.
"Three guesses as to who that is," Lyanna muttered, standing up. "I'm going for a walk."
"Lya, you cannot go alone."
"Aye, I know there are drunk men," Lyanna retorted, tying her braid off with string. "I'll avoid them. You'd think I'm stupid."
"That's not what I said, Lyanna," Benjen replied, raising an eyebrow.
Lyanna took a breath and then sighed. "I'll be careful. I promise."
"Thank you," Howland said, drawing her attention as she strode to the perimeter of their camp. He stood up and walked over to her side, meeting her eyes quietly. "You did not have to confront those men."
"But I did. They had no right to call you frogeater," Lyanna argued, her eyes narrowing. "You don't eat frogs and it's not like you live in mud."
Howland grinned a little and looked over to the north, his eyes taking on a wistful look. "I do not come south very often but when I do, it is always interesting."
"Why were you south in the first place? You arrived earlier than we did."
The waves of the God's Eye grew louder and drowned out Robert's yelling. Lyanna could swear she heard him mention her dance with the princess and swore under her breath.
"I took a boat to the Isle of Faces," Howland remarked, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. "I took counsel with the green men all winter."
"The green men?"
"A counsel of men who guard the Isle of Faces," Howland explained, gesturing to the isle that sat in the middle of the lake. "They wear all green. That is where they get the name."
Lyanna turned to look at the lake, standing on her tiptoes to look over all of the tents in the way. She focused and drew on some of the wolf strength and vision and finally saw the isle, cloaked under a cover of darkness. "What did you learn?"
Howland's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at her. She looked at him, meeting his eyes, and hesitated, seeing something in his eyes that reminded her of Luna. "They have no prophecies, the green men. They know nothing of what I asked about."
"And what did you ask about?"
"Nothing of any urgency," Howland finally replied after a few minutes of quiet.
Lyanna nodded and took a step only to turn back around. "I see ghosts."
Howland blinked. "Ghosts?"
"I saw King Harren's ghost a few minutes ago," Lyanna remarked, pointing to the castle wall.
"Everyone thinks they see King Harren's ghost."
"Aye, they do, but do they see Vhagar's ghost?" Lyanna asked, seeing the ghostly dragon fly above them, watching as the ghost of Visenya's dragon opened its mouth and roared. The ghost of Caraxes, or at least, who she guessed was Caraxes flew further north, flying over the castle. "Or Caraxes?"
Howland blinked again and Lyanna frowned as the ghosts of Vhagar and Caraxes flew together in peace, as they had not in life.
"You see ghosts."
"Aye."
"The green men spoke of a person who could see ghosts," Howland said faintly, his eyes narrowing even more. "I did not know it would be you. They said… this person would be instrumental in the years to come."
Lyanna sighed. "Of course. Of course they did. I'm going to go… take my walk now and avoid thinking about that."
Howland watched her go and then glanced up at the sky, not seeing anything but the moon and the stars as they winked down at them.
Lyanna woke up to the sun rising, its beams reaching under her tent walls and shining a light on her already packed trunk. She could hear the whinnying of horses and shouting of men as they all packed up, readying to go back to their homes and castles. She quickly sat up off her bed and dressed, throwing on her riding leathers and put on a dress over it, better to be 'presentable'.
She could hear Brandon's loud boisterous yelling as her brother walked back to his tent after spending the night in someone else's tent. Lyanna rolled her eyes and stared at the flower crown that sat on top of her trunk, sighing at the sight of it and at the memories of last night. Howland's words were worrisome but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to be at the center of attention again and she didn't want to be at court.
At least, Dragonstone was quiet and it wasn't like Prince Rhaegar was king now. The court would stay in King's Landing. She put it aside, pressing the flowers to her nose briefly before gathering everything together to put in her trunk. Her trunk was just a regular one now, not a magical one with multiple compartments, but she did know the charms to create them.
And it wasn't like she needed a wand right now. The elder wand had come with her, as had her cloak and the stone, which she also didn't particularly need. Ghosts still floated by in her vision and didn't engage with her or look at her. Though she had had one encounter with a ghost in Winterfell that had disturbed her more than any had. A ghostly giant had come walking right through her two years ago, on its way to… somewhere.
It had been taller than Hagrid had been, wielding a club and dragging a sledge behind it.
Lyanna shrugged off the thoughts and brought her trunk outside, placing it next to her horse. She looked around at the camps that littered the countryside, watching as men and women both either walked into wheelhouses or onto horses and ventured off. The banners that flew on poles proclaimed each house and as she readied her horse, she counted them.
The biggest banners were of House Targaryen, the red three headed dragon waving in the wind on a black field. And there were banners from House Martell right next to the royal ones, for the Princess Elia Martell and her brother, Prince Oberyn.
She pressed a hand to her trunk and whispered a word or two under her breath, before glancing around to make sure no one was watching. As soon as she did, she whispered another word, resizing her trunk and tucking it into a pocket. On the way down to Harrenhal, it had traveled with their pack wagon but now… she would be on her own.
Lyanna grasped one of the winter roses from her crown and wove it into her horse's mane, patting her gelding's neck gently. Her horse huffed quietly but didn't comment as she led it past her brother's tent and past the other northerners, right over to where Princess Elia's tent was.
Clouds wafted through the sky above her and there was no sign of any ghosts this morning. She led her draft horse through the crowd of people and stopped right in front of a line of soldiers who bore the colors of House Targaryen and House Martell.
Two of them gestured her past and she nodded to them, heading for what appeared to be the princess' tent. Elia was standing in front of her tent, with Rhaenys in her arms, as her belongings were packed. Lady Ashara Dayne was behind her, supervising the packing. Lyanna sucked in a breath as she saw Ashara in the daylight, seeing the beautiful woman with long, smooth dark hair and bright violet eyes.
Lyanna's attention was more suited to Elia though, remembering dancing with her during the opening feast and ceremony. Elia had laughed quietly, had held her in a way that had been gentle, soft, as they danced together and had made her heart skip several beats.
"Lyanna, you're here," Princess Elia spoke, drawing her gaze back to the present. The princess' hair was down and not put in braids or anything like the hair styles of the other ladies she had seen during the tourney. "We are just packing now."
"Are you sure about your offer?" Lyanna questioned, bringing her horse to a stop and leaning against his side.
"I am," Elia said, her eyes narrowed in thought. "Are you not going to ride in the wheelhouse?"
"I didn't ride in a wheelhouse on the way to Harrenhal," Lyanna said, flinching as the ghost of Vhagar appeared in the sky. She focused on Elia and Rhaenys, shaking her head slightly in an effort to rid herself of the ghost but failed. "Assuming… it's alright with you. Let me help with the packing."
"Yes, it is. I know you'd prefer to ride anyway," Elia offered, her lips curling into a smile and gesturing behind her. "Ashara, I'd like to introduce Lady Lyanna Stark."
Ashara turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "The northern girl. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lyanna."
"You danced with my brother, Ned," Lyanna said, dipping her head in a nod. "I think he says hello."
Ashara grinned and lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "He is quite shy."
"Everyone calls him the quiet wolf back home," Lyanna offered, holding out a hand to Rhaenys as the girl reached out to her. "Hey, Rhaenys."
Vhagar's ghost roared, eerie and loud, as she had presumably been during the conquest. Lyanna shut her eyes quickly before meeting Rhaenys' indigo eyes, smiling at the girl.
"Lya!"
"Aye, that's my name," Lyanna spoke, seeing Elia grin. "That's what my brothers call me but sure, you can call me that too."