Robert's fingers gripped her upper arm tightly. "Do you think me blind, my lady?" he questioned, his hold becoming painfully tight. "What business have you speaking in such an intimate manner with Ser Jaime Lannister?"
Lyanna cursed the fickleness of her fortune. She had thought herself safe from Robert and had merely meant to take in some fresh air. Having stepped out of the protective space of the great hall, she had relinquished the careful watch of her brothers. A curse flittered through her mind.
The man standing before her was not one she would win against if she decided upon a battle. Nay, indeed, enraged as he was, Lyanna knew not what her suitor was capable of. If she could only slip away from him somehow.
"Ser Jaime asked me to dance," she answered coolly. "He is the son of Lord Tywin Lannister. Were I to refuse him it would have reflected poorly upon myself." There were several brands that one attributed could not be taken back and produced a stain.
If she was to ever reach her goal, that of attracting a suitor other than Robert, she could not be seen as cold and unapproachable. It was truly an easy matter to understand. Only the oaf before her insisted upon trying her patience with his boorish behaviour.
"Kindly remove your hand from my person, ser." The she-wolf pulled back slightly, trying to pry herself away, "or need I point out that I am here in the care of my brothers?"
The gal of him. Just because their fathers had exchanged a number of letters and a betrothal was being discussed, he thought she should be kneeling before him in adoration. It was quite clear to her that he could not conceive of her not wishing to be in his presence anymore than Brandon could understand that he played a dangerous game with one of the Princess' ladies.
Was it by change a characteristic of all males to be so obtuse, or was Lyanna singularly affected by such misfortune? The answer, she could not give, for it was far from the mind. What could be done, however, was to extricate herself as fast as possible from this situation and put a distance between herself and Robert.
"You need not point out a thing to me, Lya," she snapped. "I am to be your husband and I shan't stand for such behaviour."
And she was to murder him if he did not let go of her hand. Lyanna took a deep breath. "When you are my lord husband in the eyes of the realm, then you may make use of such authority. Until that time, I am the sister of Brandon Stark, and shall do as I am allowed by my brother."
Despite the many disagreements between siblings, Lyanna much preferred her brother's hovering to Robert's attempts at asserting himself. It was not a matter of unwillingness to listen, it was a matter of her being less than willing to listen to him specifically.
The door opened and into the hall stepped Eddard. He saw the two of them and naturally joined them. "I see you have found Lyanna," he said to Robert, obvious to what had previously gone on. "Brandon insists that you return within, sister mine."
"So he has torn his attention fr4om Lady Ashara long enough to notice my absence?" The young noblewoman supposed she ought to be grateful. Her hand landed on Ned's arm. "Then let us not keep my brother waiting."
A curious look passed her brother's face. He waited for Robert to walk before them, then bent his head towards Lyanna. "Since when have you concerned yourself with Brandon's wishes?"
"I can be a good sister," she insisted in turn, not quite please with the implication. "Brandon is unreasonable at times."
Ned replied nothing to that. It was just as well considering they'd entered the hall once more and noise rang out all around them. Lyanna was led to the table and she breathed out in relief when Robert went ahead and found himself another to drink with.
Howland Reed had retained his seat at the table, his despondent mood still in place. Lyanna though of offering words of consolation, but no matter that she has saved him, she could not bring herself to do so. Every man had a certain burden to bear and all were responsible for their own actions.
Leaning back in her seat, Lyanna picked at the plate of food set before her without much aim in the gesture. She had eaten all that she would and drinking held little appeal. Something caught her eye and she looked up in time to see Princess Shaena level her a stare. Jaime's sister was looking towards her as well, but without the curiosity of the first. Instead in the other's face she saw resentment.
Puzzled, the she-wolf glanced away, wondering if she could find Benjen somewhere in the crowd and keep company with him. To be the object of attention was not her goal, except in that she might capture a particular attention and create a favourable situation for herself. If anything, her encounter with Robert has solidified her distrust in the man.
To her fortune, she was not left to suffer. Benjen was soon to appear, yet not alone. In his company, Lyanna noted that another was coming towards her. She stood to her feet to greet the Prince, but when he drew nearer, recognition swept in and paralysed her.
"I see your memory is working well, my lady?" the young Prince said, a grin on his face. "I trust you had no trouble finding the stables."
"Nay, Your Grace," she responded warily. "I should wish to apologise–"
"There is no need to," Daeron assured her. "In fact, I want you to forget the whole incident."
A confused Benjen cleared his throat. "You have made the acquaintance of my sister, Your Grace?"
"Briefly," the Prince nodded promptly. "Very briefly indeed."
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, Lyanna allowed herself to sit back down as the Prince occupied a seat between he and Benjen. Uncertainty ruled her for a few moments until her eyes landed on Jaime Lannister somewhere on the other side of the room. The knight raised his cup towards her in a slight gesture, but returned to his conversation just as soon.
Unbeknownst to her, Daeron was observing the maiden with a careful eye although he spoke in hushed tones with her brother. There was something he was missing. It irritated him to have discovered it. He had seen her dance with Jaime Lannister, just as he had seen her keep company with Robert Baratheon briefly. However, despite rumour holding that she was to wed the latter, her attention was continually slipping to the young lion.
Was it possible that an idyll was at play? Indeed, Lyanna Stark was a pretty maiden no matter what Rhaegar thought. And Jaime Lannister was easy enough on the eyes. And she had ventured to the stables on her own. It fell into place.
But it also made for a strange picture. Jaime Lannister, to the best of Daeron's knowledge, was to play as pawn in his father's schemes and wed a young lady whose family had connections. The North was too remote a kingdom and much too uninvolved for such a bond to hold any appeal. Surely Jaime knew that.
Yet if he did and still chose to court Lady Lyanna, then the fault lied with him. Was it possible that he used a young girl's naïveté as a weapon? What could be gained from such a move, Daeron wondered.
Still, he had to admit that his speculations, no matter how well tied together, lacked evidence enough to construe a case. Mayhap if he kept a close watch on the two. Indeed, that would be appropriate. After all, a prince of the realm, though he mightn't rule, still was obliged to care for those under his protection.
That would be best, he decided, simultaneously answering a question Benjen Stark had put forth. "Rhaegar competes and I haven't the will to challenge him at the moment for such honours," he said. "I trust my brother shan't disappoint."
The Seven only knew what would come of it though. Daeron was quite certain a storm of sorts was approaching and those unable or unwilling to take cover would be swept away. It would be interesting to watch and not so much to participate.
"I wish father had allowed me to participate," Benjen offered. "I think Ned ought to have done so."
"I am certain your brother has his reasons for not wishing to compete." Namely the knowledge that he would not win, Daeron imagined. "There will be tourneys aplenty throughout our lives. One shouldn't concentrate on impossibilities."
"Wise words," Lady Lyanna said, joining the conversation at a long last. Daeron could only imagine she had grown tired of looking after Ser Jaime. "Father knows your skill may yet be polished. Do you not wish to be at your best when competing?" she asked her brother.
Benjen grimaced. "Of course you would say that. You are still angry that he took away–" And there he stopped himself short. Curious, Daeron urged him silently to continue, but Benjen merely shook his head. "I still think he ought to have allowed me to participate."
"Let us praise the wisdom of our elders then," the sister snapped, unforgiving. It was mayhap petty and certainly amusing.
Daeron looked between the two of them. The Prince wished his ow3n siblings might be as close. But it was simply not possible. The situation was so that with all his understanding and benevolence, Rhaegar had been born far earlier than them and would forever see his siblings as children, unfit to be of aid. Shaena was preoccupied with her own schemes and rarely, if ever, was in a mood to deal with the rest of her brothers. And Daeron himself was growing more and more distant from the younger dragonlings. After all, the three of them were just children. Still, he supposed he might take the time to strengthen the bonds every now and again.
"I say, this is truly remarkable," the Prince broke the awkward silence that had fallen between them, "I have rarely seen siblings quarrelling in full view of the realm." He laughed, pushing away his own sadness for the moment. There would be time enough to contemplate it at a later date. "You should give a thought to mummery."
"Your Grace is too kind," Lyanna Stark answered him, a thin veneer of mockery clinging to her words. "We are ever glad to offer entertainment." He could not detect actual anger in her voice, however. It was very likely self-mockery.
"It is every man's fondest wish to be praised by a fair maiden," he returned with ease. "You cannot blame a body for showing interest when you yourselves have no concern for the amount of exposure you allow."
"A fair maiden?" Benjen made a sound in the back of his throat. Rather like he considered the Prince's assessment one that did not match reality, he chuckled. "I never thought to hear the sentiment so clearly put forth."
His sister, far from taking violent offence, merely gave him a curt glance. It was the teasing of siblings. Daeron shook his head, but a feeling of contentment seeped through him. "I would have thought there would be droves of suitors to keep away from your sister."
"There were," Benjen acknowledged, "but my sister rarely need my aid in that."
"A shieldmaiden, Lady Lyanna?" Daeron cajoled.
She laughed. "Not at all. If one were to believe every word which left my brother's mouth, I should shortly become a figure of legend." It pleased her too, by the way she smiled.
"I have no doubt such a place would be well deserved." They shared the amusement within their small circle, and it occurred to the Prince his older brother could use a bit of these atmosphere himself.