The raucous uproar in the hall was deafening. Between the loud music and the banter between hundreds of nobles, Ned could barely hear the blood pounding in his own ears. Lyanna latched onto Elyse like a tick. There had been few friends in her life of the same gender that had been able to relate to her and Lyanna felt an instant kinship with Elyse. Not wanting to break up the moment between the girls at dinner, Eddard focused on his cups and what had occurred through the day. Elyse didn't know, but Lyanna had chased down a few young men with a commandeered sword as they bullied a noble named Howland Reed. He met Howland after taking a walk with Robert and happened upon Lyanna as she huffed and puffed.

Yet, it was what happened later that had put Ned on the edge before picking up Elyse for the feast. A knight had their revenge on the bullies, possessing a shield with a laughing heart tree. Much to his own chagrin, he knew the mysterious face behind the helmet and nigh wanted to ring his sister's neck for being so reckless. What if she had lost? What if she had gotten hurt? Either way, if his father discovered that Lyanna was this mystery knight, both he and Benjen would be on the chopping block. It was Benjen that had given her the oversized armor, unable to refuse his sister.

He wondered if he couldn't control his sister, how he would control his wife to be. Deep down, Ned didn't want to control Lyanna. The fire and freedom she approached life in was something that Ned envied himself, wishing that he also possessed such determination to carve his own path. He knew that such exuberance was also a curse, as it put both Lyanna and Brandon in positions that could have been avoided by gathering logic and thoughts before reacting to certain scenarios.

With the close of dinner, most continued to enjoy their drinks, conversation growing louder and men more drunk. Ned's own eyes trailed toward the center of the hall where tables had been moved aside to provide ample space to dance. By this point, the music had shifted from bawdy to sweet and bright, enough to keep a comfortable dance pace. He wasn't much of a dancer, though he knew how to keep himself from stepping on toes. The sudden memory of Elyse's tear streaked face compelled him. As Robert had said, he had one of the most beautiful women in Westeros with him and if Robert were closer, he'd be calling Ned a fool for not showing her off.

Yes, the other Northerners could see her, but she was hidden in a small pocket of familiar faces. He should dance with her before someone realized he was hiding the Arryn gem here... Before someone asked before him. Drawing in a breath, Ned pushed aside his own anxiety and leaned toward Elyse who was still enjoying the evening with Lyanna.

Standing, he inclined toward Elyse, interrupting the tangent his sister had been on. "Would you honor me with a dance?" he extended his palm, a heat clinging to the back of his neck and ears. He wondered if she noticed the blush or if it was hidden, just like his nerves.

Elyse turned toward him, her vivid eyes considering him before she smiled at him. The marks of sorrow were all but gone and her worry about having red, puffy eyes, forgotten. Ned could see why Prince Rhaegar was still so enamored with her, as he felt himself compelled toward her. He tugged her to her feet once she placed her hand in his, guiding her between the tables to the dance floor.

The unsettling feeling of being watched by numerous sets of eyes consumed him. He did not know who was watching, only that they were. Was it just because Elyse was radiant in her grey and silver ensemble or because Ned was with her? Perhaps it was a combination of both, the palpable disdain radiating off of unmarried lordlings as he held her hand. Why the second son? Why the Stark? He'd only been given the luxury because he was a ward of Lord Arryn.

Doubts piled on top of him, the thoughts heavy.

"Focus on me," Elyse whispered, having noticed that he was distracted. She was so petite, her waist slender between his fingers as he held her for the dance. "It doesn't matter what everyone else is thinking."

Ned's sour thoughts blew away like dust in the wind and he released the breath he had been holding. He held one small hand in his, wondering how she managed archery with such tiny fingers. "This is the first time I've been around the majority of the Seven Kingdoms."

"And would it be any different if I were not here?"

"I wouldn't feel disconcerted-"

"You are to be Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East. Don't let the petty opinions of others scratch at you. Even if they are thinking bitter thoughts, they can only think them and whisper them behind your back. When the time comes, they'll bite their tongues to impress you and garner your attention," Elyse told him sternly as he delicately spun her around.

"You speak as if you have some expertise in this field."

The mischievous smirk his sister sometimes had returned, though Elyse's was slightly different. Only one side of her lips curved up, cocking a half-smile in his direction as she gazed up at him. "I may be a subject expert on this matter," she informed him airly.

"Then you'll have to teach me," Ned smiled in spite of himself.

"I already have been. I warned you not to trust a pretty face and kind words... but you won't learn the entirety of these lessons in a night, or a fortnight, or even a year. It'll take time, because it requires unlearning the way you currently think about the motives of others," she pulled in close to him. "Everyone wants something, no one truly does anything for free."

He enjoyed her proximity, his heart fluttering slightly from the way her lashes hooded her brilliant blue irises. "And what is it you desire?"

"Now, if I told you, that would ruin the fun. After all, people with hidden motives are rarely so forthcoming," Elyse chuckled. "That will be your first assignment. Discover what it is I desire. To be fair, I'll tell you if you're correct."

"Do you... desire the Vale? To govern it on your own?"

"You're making speculations already?" she mused. "From henceforth, you have three guesses and I wouldn't waste them. It's much too early in our relationship for you to truly understand me and what I might desire. But no, as eager as I am to get to the Vale, I have no desire to 'rule' it. I do wish to help the people to the best of my ability, but I know it shall take time and relationship building with the noble houses that live throughout the Vale. I am not so disillusioned that I think I will automatically have their respect... although, seeing as you are familiar with them, that does help quite a bit."

"I didn't mean to insinuate that you were disillusioned. Only that if Lyanna were in a similar situation, she'd wish to take the seat of lord over her husband. You are the Arryn, not me, rightfully the Vale belongs in the hands of an Arryn."

"Be it I were a man, then I would agree, but alas I am not and here we are dancing together. It'd be rather embarrassing for you if I were a man and we were dancing. Unless..." she arched a brow at him devilishly.

"No, that would be embarrassing," he agreed, cheeks burning at her jest. He preferred women. And he found that he liked that Elyse was short and slender. She looked fragile, but beneath his fingers he could feel the stiffness of her curvature under her gown. There was no pillowy or soft exterior, even if her face could portray the masks a noble lady needed to wear. He could recall Robert's lewd descriptions of voluptuous women, but Elyse was like a brilliant hummingbird. He wondered what she looked like beneath the gown... And then scolded himself immediately for undressing his betrothed with his eyes, thinking himself no better than the onlookers who might be doing the same.

Still, the thought returned, imagining her with her curls cascading all around her. It loomed in front of him, the possibility that would happen in the next year...

A tap on his shoulder indicated that someone wanted to step in. Ned was regretful to let Elyse go, but when he noticed it was Ser Barriston Selmy, he felt considerably less worried. With a tight smile, he traded Elyse's hand and gave her a long look. The young lady gave him a cheeky smile before graciously accepting her new partner. She knew that this was bound to happen and Ned had already claimed her for a few songs. This would be the closest any other man would be allowed to get to her and there were many who wanted that honor.

Instead of returning to his family's table, Ned sought out the nearby and loud table of Robert Baratheon. His friend had drunk quite a bit by this point, sloshing wine onto the table and putting out a candle in the process.

"And then I told her, well if it's a good fuck you want, you'll have to come by tomorrow!" Robert finished the joke, with a new drinking companion who wore a coat of arms which was quartered of six: red lips strewn on a yellow field, yellow skulls strewn on a black field. "Ay, Ned, done dancing with your lovely betrothed. You did tell her I was sorry and didn't mean to offend her, dinnae?"

Ned took a seat and watched warily as Robert poured up a chalice for him. "No, I did not, perhaps when you're not in your cups you can apologize yourself."

"Aw shit. Put me in front of those big blue eyes and I might hug her again. How'd you lucked out. I was worried we'd have to convince some lady here to even dance with you, let alone entertain the idea that you'd have the Arryn eating out of your palm."

Ned took a sip of the wine and scrutinized Robert. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the way she was looking at you Ned. I know what a woman wants when she looks at me like that."

By the Gods he's much stupider when he's drunk. Elyse just told me- but the epiphany came as he sat beside his best friend. She had warned him that faces could lie, especially pretty ones. He gazed back out, finding her silver dress amongst the colorful ensemble. Amongst the crowd she was smiling and laughing, as if she were enjoying herself. Was she? This was all posturing, ways to lure others in by her charming demeanor so that they might be useful later. Men like Robert would think she fancied them and be more willing to help her.

Silver tongued and fair faced, Elyse's coy smiles and demure, playful looks engaged those she entertained. That was not the Elyse he had just begun to know, it was the show she had to put on in front of the court. She had done the same in front of Prince Rhaegar when they had been approached in the morning. He knew now that Elyse was not fond of him.

The woman they want, but can never have.

"You hear me or are you already besotted with her?" Robert asked, narrowing his eyes at Ned suspiciously.

Ned chuckled harshly and raised his chalice. "I heard you. To Lord Whent's daughter and the tourney," he declared, toasting with the other drunken Stormland knights that he didn't know. They were eager to have more of an excuse to drink, especially when it wasn't on their tab and it flowed like water. While they chugged, he turned his grey eyes back to the floor, choking on his own sip as he saw the figure approaching to ask Ser Arthur Dayne to Elyse's hand to dance.

Rhaegar Targaryen had cleaned up before the feast from whence Ned had last seen him stalking through the Tyrell encampment. His hair had been preened and was loose, his doublet of the finest crimson brocade, dancing three headed silver dragons emblazoned in the material. Elyse appeared slightly ruffled from her exchange with the Dayne, her face contorting before she put on a darling smile and accepted the prince's invitation. Murmurs pooled around them and Ned could overhear them.

"This is the prince's first dance?"

"Why hasn't he asked Princess Elia to dance?"

But one drew his attention more than others. "It's the smirking whore of Highgarden he's asked for a dance," but it was not an adult who said this, but a young male, just on the cusp of manhood, who was probably around the same age as Benjen. Small for his age and a little sinewy, he captured the rapt attention of a few young ladies who weren't dancing, including one with auburn hair similar to Catelyn Tully's. The girl wasn't as pretty and some years younger, leading him to believe by the colors she wore, that she was Lysa Tully.

"Where'd you hear that name before?" the girl asked, staring up fondly at the boy.

"Lady Mina, apparently everything wasn't as wonderful as the Tyrells will have you believe. Lady Elyse was awful to Mace Tyrell, which is why the engagement was delayed and subsequently put off. From the way she smiles at everyone and from what I've heard, I think she's stayed in the good graces of others for an alternative reason," the boy suggested, arching a brow.

"She does look like the type that would think she's better than everyone," the girl agreed, scrutinizing the dancing forms.

"Go dance with her," Ned told Robert suddenly, remembering himself and drawing away from the conversation nearby.

"What?" Robert perked up, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Go interrupt the prince and dance with Lady Arryn," Ned repeated, offering a bit of clarity.

"I thought she wasn't fond of me," Robert frowned.

She's more wary of Prince Rhaegar. I think she'll be glad to dance with you, Ned thought. "You can try your apology there," he urged, gazing back out to the floor where the two were disconcertingly close.

"Ay, you're just a bit jealous of the prince, aren't you?" Robert gleaned, pointing a finger at him. "Don't you worry Ned, I've got your back covered." Upending the rest of the chalice into his mouth before he stood up, swaggering as he straightened his doublet out, and puffed onto the floor to meet the prince.

Robert approached them and tapped the prince, a little too brusquely on the shoulder, but Rhaegar did not appear bothered. Maybe it was because the Baratheon towered over him and reeked of wine, but the prince ducked out of the way, lingering with Elyse for as long as he could before Robert took control. Ned could barely control a laugh, watching as Robert absolutely dwarfed his betrothed and tottered ungracefully. Rather than seem bothered by Robert, Elyse picked up conversation with him and took the lead of their steps.

"You're letting Robert dance with her?" Lyanna's voice crept up behind him, the peevish little imp hovering over his shoulder, having approached silently.

Ned cursed under his breath and gazed at his sister. "He owed her an apology and thought this was the best time to do it," he offered, setting down his chalice and moving over on the bench so his sister could join him.

"I really like her Ned. I really do," Lyanna said, sitting on the bench backwards so she faced out. "She thinks Robert can change."

Now Ned wasn't entirely certain of that either, but he put on a face for Lyanna. "Under the right circumstances, I think he could. But that depends on you as well. The more you two get into fights, the less of a reason I think he'll see to changing."

"How's he supposed to know I'm upset unless I tell him?" Lyanna huffed.

"Tell him, don't scream it at him," Ned suggested.

"That's a tall order," Lyanna remarked, but settled back and gazed out onto the floor, nonplussed by Robert bumbling around with Elyse. "But if you think he'll really change..."

"Perhaps Elyse is convincing him," Ned gestured to the two. "Speaking of which, Elyse may need to stay with you this evening."

"Why?" Lyanna asked curiously, unaware of the situation.

"I can explain it another time, but for now just trust me."

"Very well, I don't mind having her stay in my quarters."

The evening continued and the dancing shifted to ballads as Elyse had predicted. Rather than returning to the Stark table, they all became comfortable amongst Robert's friends. Lyanna had put aside her disdain and sat with Robert, trying to reason with him in his drunken stupor. Elyse kept a vivid conversation with a knight named Ser Richard Lonmouth, who seemed to have known her when he was squiring underneath Rhaegar. When the crown prince took the floor, there was a hushed silence, most ladies leaning on the edge of their seats as he began his mournful ballad.

Lyanna had resolved to taking silent shots with Robert, keeping the table occupied in quiet intrigue. Still, Ned could observe Rhaegar's pining gazes toward them, lingering on Elyse as she ignored him and committed herself to the antics of the Storm Lord. When the ballad had ended, applause broke out, tears streaming down the faces of those moved by his beautiful tenor. What Ned noticed most was the face of the king, whose countenance was drawn and narrowed on his son. Why?

Bringing his eyes up to Lord Whent, whose table flanked the king's, Ned saw the man enjoying the splendor with bumbling pride. Yet, while many tables of wealthy nobles houses possessed even prettier settings, the Whents utilized ceramic plates and silver chalices. For someone throwing such a grandiose tourney in his daughter's honor, their table settings weren't even as nice as the Manderlys.

*Did they not pay for all of this?* Ned realized, seeing beyond the minor details around them.

The feast didn't really come to a close. Music may have halted, but wine still flowed freely and many chose to stay to continue their conversations. Curiosity rose in him, questioning whether there were other conversations ongoing and if the king's suspicious glare had more edge to it than he originally believed. Traveling in a pack, the Starks separated from the Storm landers to return to their encampment. Lyanna swagged, still labored from her contest with Robert.

She sagged on Elyse's arm, much to Ned's chagrin. "And then I was telling him, well you'd better take another!"

"I know Lyanna, I was sitting right beside you," Elyse reminded her gently, helping hold the young lady up straight.

"Right, but just... you know," Lyanna looked Elyse dead in the eye before bubbling out with raucous laughter.

"Right, darling, right..." Elyse pat her arm, easing her forward.

Finally, they had dragged Lyanna back to her tent without Rickard discovering his daughter we piss drunk. Without Eddard asking, Elyse helped his sister into bed and undid her boots before moving on to pull at the back laces of her dress. Not wishing to see his sister in her chemise, he turned around and waited for the Arryn to help Lyanna finish. A few minutes later, Elyse popped up beside him.

"She's asleep," she informed him, gesturing back to his dozing sister, whose hair fanned around her in a dark halo. In this state, Lyanna looked more gentle than usual.

"I'm sorry you had to help, you shouldn't have to-" Ned sighed.

Elyse shook her head and smiled up at him. "She's going to be my sister soon. I know it would be a bit odd for you to undress and put her to bed, so I don't mind."

"It shouldn't be your responsibility."

"The world would be a much crueller place if people only did what they were 'responsible' for. I'll make certain she is alright tonight," Elyse promised before turning away to return to the bed. "Goodnight Eddard... Or is Ned acceptable? Your family calls you that."

Smiling to himself, he nodded. "What about you?"

"I don't have a pet name," Elyse admitted.

"Ellie? Elle?"

"Whichever you prefer," she shrugged.

"Hm."

The lack of conversation seemed to frazzle Elyse, her smile waning in slight disdain. "Good night, Elle."