Benjen gave her a long look. "You are aware that a lady has no need to linger about the stable and worry for her mare. There are stable boys for that." His excellent point was completely lost upon his sister though. Lyanna hadn't the slightest interest in what Benjen named the comport of a lady. She would have more than enough of an opportunity to enact it when the time came.
"Hush, Benjen. Just be sure that Brandon is otherwise distracted." To her mind the task was not so great. She would simply sneak to the stables, make sure her mare was well provided for and return without too much fuss being made, And most importantly, she would avoid seeing Robert Baratheon who was sure to come greet Ned.
With that in mind, the young lady took leave of her dear brother and made her way through the sea of tents. Some banners she recognised, some she did not. The latter ones she would have to look for in her booklet. Who knew when the information would be needful? Pleased, Lyanna passed the gates of the keep without anyone paying her attention.
It was truly to her advantage that so many had arrived that Lord When had been more or less forced to keep his gates open. Lyanna looked about, wondering if she ought to ask anyone where the stables were to be found. Determining that it would be, indeed, the best, she glanced around in search of someone approachable.
It was not that she was plagued by a sudden sense of shyness. But she was still aware that alone even a lady of good birth must pay mind to whom she speaks. Thankfully, she found the perfect candidate in what looked to be a servant of her own age heading towards her.
"You there," she called, stopping him in his tracks. The youth looked at her then with something akin to confusion. "Which way to the stables?"
A glint flared to life in his eyes and a dimpled smile appeared on his face. "The stables, my good lady?" He pointed her towards the road. "A short walk down. Mayhap I should join you."
"Mayhap you should return to your duties," Lyanna advised without blinking. How could Lord Whent keep such uncivil servants, she wondered. Alas her musings were not to take up most of her day. She had something to do, after all, and uncivil servants or not, she would see it done.
Lyanna strode forth, unaware that the servant she had sent on his way still watched her, a peculiar look upon his face. Had the maiden paid more attention she might have observed that despite the austere clothing and the cap that hid any strand of hair, the youth possessed a pair of violet eyes and wore upon his belt a Valyrian dagger.
Yet missed it she had. So Lyanna went about her way, blissfully ignorant of the fact she had talked down to a Prince of the realm. For his own part, Daeron had found the maiden amusing.
At least he'd not lied to her when giving the directions, Lyanna thought, not without a smidge of relief. She opened the door silently and peered within, expecting that she would find quite a number of people there. It was not so.
Muffled noises reached her ears and then a clear chuckle followed. Imprecations were thrown around. Instinctively, the maiden grew rigid. Mayhap she ought to retreat and come back at a later time. Who knew what could possibly be going on? Just as Lyanna unclenched her fingers from around the iron she was holding, a body few, quite literally in the line of her vision.
The young man let out a groan as his head hit the ground. It was then that Lyanna saw he was bleeding. Not profusely, but enough to stain the straw carpeting the ground. His descent was followed by another man, only this one occupied himself with smashing his fists into the injured one's face.
She had seen more than enough. Lyanna took a step back, intending to flee to a safer place. Just once more she looked behind.
Upon the ground was a shield that bore the arms of House Reed.
It was that which stopped her.
But what to do? She hadn't the necessary weaponry to fight them off and she was outnumbered. By the looks of their victim, he would not be of much help to her. Yet leave him she could not.
Taking advantage of the three men's lack of attention, the maiden made her way within and from the wall picked the shortest of the tourney swords. The rough wood pressed unpleasantly into her skin. Lyanna, though, concentrated upon making her way behind what looked to be squires.
She took in a deep breath, raised her weapon in a way she'd seen Brandon do when training and lunged into an attack. The wood smacked down upon one of the squires' shoulders with a loud sound. The man let out a yell.
"What do you think you are doing?" Lyanna demanded icily. "This is my father's bannerman that you are abusing." She hoped to the gods that they would have qualms about striking a noblewoman. "Be gone!" she roared a second time, brandish her weapon at them.
To her great luck, three pairs of eyes widened and three pair of legs took in a hurry to the stable doors, hurrying to make their escape. Relief tinged Lyanna's sigh when she dropped her wooden sword. Good gods, one day she would land herself in trouble that mere status could not solve.
Until that particular time, however, she had gained another responsibility. Kneeling by the injured man still lying upon the ground, Lyanna shook his gently. "Ser, open you eyes. Ser," she called to him. A weak groan slithered past his lips. "Ser, I pray you, open your eyes and lend some aid." He might well be smaller than the other three men had been, but he was still taller than Lyanna and heavier.
Grey eyes opened slowly. Lyanna looked down into those orbs, hoping that he would understand coherent speech. "Ser, can you stand?" She waited a moment for his nod, which came in a rather weak manner of moving one's head. Then, without making use of words, she slung his arm around her shoulders and fought to raise him off of the ground. Injured he might have been, but there was yet some strength left. The man was staggering though. The power of the blows must have done that.
"Come. I shan't take you far away, ser; only to a place where I might clean your wounds." And then she expected some vow of vassality to her personally for the sacrifice she was making.
Together they trudged through the busy courtyard ignoring the curious stares levelled their way. Or at least Lyanna ignored them. She hadn't the time to bother with them, nor did she particularly wish to correct any wild assumptions. Brandon would take care of that once the situation was made know to him.
"What have we here?" a voice called out, momentarily distracting Lyanna's attention. Losing her footing the maiden came dangerously close to landing on the ground with her injured companion atop. To his credit, the one distracting them hurried over to lend a hand.
"Are you out of your mind?" Lyanna demanded of the young, fair-haired man that had moved to balance her father's bannerman on the other side. "Can you not see that I am trying to help this man?"
"Has it occurred to you that you look like two wild creatures that had a good roll in the hay?" the blonde demanded, a grin upon his face. "Was it you who bloodied him, lady, or do you prefer tamer sport?"
He was mocking her. Lyanna would have slapped him then and there had she not had her hands otherwise occupied. "I thank thee kindly for your aid, ser, but your vile tongue is enough to turn my stomach. Pray be on your way."
A bark of laughter passed his lips. "Do you not know who I am?"
Likely the most annoying man in the Seven Kingdoms after Robert. The dubious honour was pleasantly completed by the title of most arrogant. "I care not if you are Prince Rhaegar himself. You are still dreadful to accuse me of anything."
"What is it with you women and that prince?" the youth groaned. "You, my sister, the Dornish Princess and the whole bloody female population of the realm." Despite his complaint, he continued to help them along. "I am Jaime Lannister of the Lannisters of Casterly Rock."
Men and their assumptions. Lyanna rolled her eyes. "I am Lyanna Stark of Winterfell. There, now that we are properly acquainted, you may return to whoever it is that you must return to."
Of course, he did not. Jaime Lannister merely shook his head at that. "We are not properly acquainted and I want to know why a lady of good breeding makes a spectacle of herself in full view of the whole keep."
"And I wish to know why you find it so important," Lyanna grumbled. "I have already told you why." It occurred to her as they advanced that she was about to bring two strangers before her brothers, two very male strangers she knew nothing of. Her steps checked.
"Why are we stopping?" Jaime question. "Tired, my lady?"
"Worried for you life and the Lannister line," she quipped back. "I thought I might take him to my brother's camp. But I know not."
"Worry not, fair Lyanna," he mocked in response, "I've a brother." But he did offer a solution as well. "I can host him for some time."
So he could. Lyanna looked at him, gratitude blooming in her chest. It is good to know that there are some squires left who value noble deeds."
"Squire?" he bristled. "I am not a squire, my lady. I am a knight."
And she was a septa. Lyanna laughed. The uninjured man did not and her own smile fell. "You cannot mean it." Apparently he did. "But you are not older than I, surely."
"It would depend on how old you are, my lady," Jaime groused unhappily. "By your height I would say a mere child of ten is what you are."
"I am four-and-ten, ser," she corrected him, cursing her lack of height and the fact that she'd taken after her mother in that. Turning her attention towards the one more deserving of it, Lyanna noted that the man was watching both Jaime and her with a stupefied expression. "Apologies, I had quite forgotten to ask, are you any better?" Her cheeks reddened.
"Better, my lady, ser. I can walk on my own." He tried to shake their hold away but neither would budge.
"You shall walk on your own soon enough," Jaime promised.
They had reached the Lannister camp. Lyanna looked around with a healthy dose of curiosity. Some of the Lannister men glanced back, but most went about their business without paying them much attention.
Jaime promptly indicated towards a large tent. "There. He can rest in there."
Once within, Lyanna helped the nameless man sit. "A bowl of water and some rags, if you please, Ser Jaime," she asked of her host.
"At your service, my lady," came the cheeky answer to which Lyanna shot him a glare. Nonetheless, Jaime went without and soon enough a servant returned with a pitcher of water and an armful of rags.
With politeness in mind, Lyanna could not help but ask the man she'd saved, "What name do you go by, ser?" He was a Reed if his shield had been anything to go by. She set about her work as he answered.
"I am called Howland Reed, my lady." He winced slightly as the wet cloth pressed against his face. Lyanna smiled apologetically. "I must thank you for your timely intervention."
"You are my father's bannerman, ser. It is the duty of the higher house to aid those offering loyalty." She continued to wash his face. "It is Ser Jaime you ought to thank for offering his hospitality." Dubious as it was.
"Indeed, I expect my portion of gratitude." Mention the devil and he is at the tent flap.
The knight moved swiftly behind her. Lyanna heard the footfalls. She looked over her shoulder nonetheless. "Ser Jaime."
"I am very grateful, ser," Howland proceeded.
"Much obliged," Jaime replied. "Lady Lyanna, a word if you will."
Since he'd aided her, she could not refuse. Lyanna stood to her feet with a promise of swift return and followed Jaime Lannister without.
"Who did that to him?" Jaime questioned. "Lord Whent should know of what goes on in his keep."
She knew not. Lyanna shrugged. 'I recognised the arms of House Frey, but the other two I do not remember."
"It makes no matter. A feast shall be held this evening. I shall see you there, Lady Lyanna, and your Ser Howland shall as well. Point them out to me then."