A/N: As of this morning, I have 50+ followers woot. And now onto King's Landing. Enjoy.
Lyanna could see that the moment they passed through the gates into King's Landing, her father had become defensive. Like he was going into battle, which felt right since the capital was place that held the most subtle battle in all the lands. The battle for the Iron throne.
It would also appear that her father's duties would begin immediately. Not two minutes in the capital and he was already being summoned to a small council meeting. Making sure that the rest of his household would be taken care of, he ordered that the direwolves be kept indoors until other arrangements could be made. The long march to the small council's chambers almost felt like a funeral walk.
It was delayed when they entered the throne room. Jaime Lannister was sitting on the steps that led to the famous Iron Throne. Lyanna could see the appeal, but it looked rather uncomfortable in her eyes. Jaime had approached her father and barred his way. Was Tyrion Lannister going to be the only Lannister that she would willingly break bread with? Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, lightly mocked her father. Luckily for both men, Eddard Stark was not a man to be thrown off balance by words.
"Ah Lady Stark, let me be the first to welcome you to the capital." Jaime grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Your presence here will certainly brighten up this place. I'm told you and the Queen have already been getting along famously." Lyanna could only nod her head, for she had no desire to come between the verbal spar of Jaime Lannister and Eddard Stark. It was unfair of Jaime to bring up the past of the death of her uncle and grandfather at the Mad King's hands.
"Father," Lyanna interjected before more than words were exchanged "the small council is waiting for you. It would be rude to leave them waiting for so long." Her father only nodded his head and walked past the Kingslayer. She followed right behind him and didn't look back.
Upon first walking into the small council chambers, Lyanna looked at the men seated around the room. She had heard of all of them but only met a few. There was Grand Maester Pycelle who was older than dirt and truthfully she would never want to be alone with him. He was creepy, plain and simple. Lord Varys, the King's Master of Whispers, Lyanna didn't know whether or not she could trust this man. He was quiet and unassuming, but maybe that's where her problem with him lay. She didn't know which path the man would take.
The other two men she had met at least once in her lifetime. Lord Petyr Baelish was a man that she knew that her mother had known for most of her life. He was always watching everything, like the very air, he wanted to know as much as he could regarding everyone and everything. Lord Baelish would always do right by her mother, by her father was another matter entirely. And finally there was Renly Baratheon, younger brother to King Robert. Watching her father hug a man that he had known for most of his life still made Lyanna smile at the bond they had.
"Well, well, if it isn't little Lyanna Stark?" Renly called out as soon as he spotted her. "Gods, how you have grown. You're not still swinging around sticks and conquering haystack forts are you?" Lyanna was sure she would never live down her childhood. But she smiled and patted the sword and small dagger around her waist before replying.
"Nah, I tend to use something a little sharper these days." Her father had taken off his cloak and before he could lay it down, she reached over and took it from him, folding it up before putting it off to the side. Lord Baelish kissed her on the cheek in greeting and Lord Varys offered his hand which she took.
"We were all saddened to hear of your loss on the Kingsroad, we pray daily for the Prince's swift recovery." The words of Varys flowed over her like honey, too sweet and sticky for her taste.
"It's a pity the butcher's boy was forgotten in your prayers. Luckily, I made sure to include him in mine." She moved past both men and moved to stand behind her father's chair as the Grand Maester handed Eddard his badge of office.
"It is most usual to have your daughter here Lord Stark, especially while we discuss matters of the crown. Perhaps she would be better off with her sisters until we are finished for the day, my lord." Grand Maester Pycelle was by far Lyanna's least favorite person now.
"I've made my daughter my squire, which means she will be attending to me for as long as I choose. She will be joining us for council business and any other I find her to be suitable for." Eddard Stark was making it clear that the issue of his daughter would not be brought up again. Pycelle mumbled a few words that no one understood but made no attempts to argue. Varys and Petyr only nodded their heads and waited for the meeting to continue. Renly smiled and bid her welcome.
"Shall we begin?" Petyr Baelish asked as both Lyanna and her father looked on in confusion. Did the King no longer even come to his own council meetings? The explanation that the King had many other cares was not lost on Lyanna. He ruled and that was important, how the rest of the kingdom was doing, he didn't care about. Renly handed Eddard a scroll which held the first order of business.
In Lyanna's opinion, Robert had well and truly screwed his Kingdom. An unnecessary tournament in honor of her father, a massive debt with no way to pay it back, and these men just wanted to keep going as if nothing was wrong with anything. To not rock a sinking ship any faster than was necessary. Gods help them if they were going to live here for years.
Lyanna waited patiently while he father spoke to some blacksmiths regarding the re-shoeing of their horses from the Kingsroad. A glint of steel caught her eye and she wandered over to see a small bull's head helmet sitting alongside a boy of 15 or 16 while he worked an anvil. It was remarkable work, too small for a grown man's head, so probably made for him. If this was the quality of his work already, she would be wise to remember him when she required armor or weapons.
"Can I help you, young lady?" The master smith asked when he spotted there staring at his apprentice's work. Dark clean hair and a washed faced pronounced her to be of a well off family, possibly noble. "I'm afraid we don't make anything other than weapons and armor here." Lyanna smiled at him and looked at the young man who looked at her.
"Have you made any weapons, young smith? The quality of the helm suggested you pay attention to your master's teaching. Perhaps I have found a worthy smith for an idea I wish to make into reality." The master would charge her much more than the apprentice, but it was a gamble that Lyanna was willing to make.
"Aye, I've done a few. Nothing like the helm, that isn't for sell. It was made for me and me alone. If you can give me what your idea of what you want and with my master's permission, I will see what I can do for you mi'lady." Lyanna smiled, this boy was fearless, recklessly so, but fearless. A hand on her shoulder made her turn around and acknowledge her father.
"Ah, Father, are you done for the day?" seeing him nod in affirmation she turned back to the boy. "I shall be by later with a sketch of my design and we can go over the price together." She left with her father and proceeded to head back to the Red Keep, already thinking of what would lay at the end of this little gamble.
The smith master pulled the boy to the side soon after they had left. "Don't mess this up boy, do this right and we could indeed get much more business than usual." Seeing the look of confusion on the young man's face he went on further. "You didn't see the badge on her father's chest. He is the new Hand of the King, which makes her his daughter. It's time to call upon all your training Gendry, your making Lyanna Stark of Winterfell a weapon."
Lyanna could only smile ruefully after her return from Tobho Mott's shop. Gendry, the young apprentice had looked over her design and said he could do it. It would cost her almost all of her gold that she had brought to King's Landing with her. But this, this would be special and already more than worth a few gold pieces. It would be a blend of a falchion and a bastard sword, a single edged blade with straight flat back, curved slightly along the end to give it the versatility of both slashing and thrusting. It would be a unique blade, just like her.
She was brought out of her day dream by loud repeated thumping of something hitting something else. Opening the door to her family's room, she watched in amusement while Arya stabbed a knife into the table while everyone watched. Her father finally had enough and sent her to her room where he would speak with her soon. Sansa left not long after that.
"War was easier than daughters." her father sounded like an old man, and she was quick to ease his burden if only a little.
"Only some daughters' father, the rest of us don't mean to make you miserable. Would you like me to talk to Sansa for you?" Arya would need her father's 'stern northern leadership' as Jaime Lannister had put it. But Sansa would also require some words. She had lied to everyone, granted it was a tough decision for everyone. Being pulled into a room in front of your future family by marriage and asked to speak against what your intended had done. However, it did not excuse the lie itself.
Her father's nod of approval had her trailing after her younger sister. Knocking on her bedroom door and opening it to peek inside. Sansa was at her small desk, sewing something or other. Lyanna sat on her bed and looked over at the young girl who had been everything her parents had expected from a noble lady. Quiet, pretty, dutiful, willing and eager to marry. Sansa was everything Lyanna had failed to be, and a small part of her was hurt by that fact.
"You know that Arya is just in grieving right? She will eventually come around to her old self again once she has worked through this. Mycah was her friend and now he is gone. Now that we are here in the capital, all of us need to stick together." Lyanna only wanted Sansa to see the truth of her words.
"You sound just like father. I am to be married to the Prince, he is my one true love and we shall be happy forever." Sansa had a dreamy look it her eye. Lyanna got up and placed a hand on her sister's -
"I hope things truly turn out that way for you sister. If you abandon all else, who will be there to protect you when we are all gone. Ours is the sigil of the direwolf, we are a pack. We will never leave one of our own to suffer, but if you walk away from us we will not be able to help you. Next time, think of what and who could pay the price before you answer in the best light of your betrothed." She kissed Sansa's head and left her to her thoughts.
The next few days, her father had told her that he would not need her as his squire. She found that she did not have much else to do besides exploring and waiting. Sansa remained mostly the same and practically fawned over how soon she would be wed to the Prince. Arya was quiet but seemed to quickly regain her spark with her new 'dancing master'. She observed the dancing one afternoon and smiled as Arya was learning.
She also learned that Bran had awoken. He would live, but he would never walk. It was a steep price to pay for his life. Hopefully one day he would make peace with himself and learn to do something with his life.
At the end of her first week in King's Landing, she finally received word that her special order was ready. She was almost skipping with giddiness to get there. Walking along with the Street of Steel, she was whistling cheerily. When she made it to the shop, Gendry was already waiting for her next to a wrapped package.
"My Lady, you did not make it easy but I have finished as you requested. If I make a million other weapons, this will be the one I remember most. I give you your blade." He pulled the sword from its wrapping and held it out to her. It still lay in its scabbard, dark green with a grey trim, Stark colors. The pommel was a direwolf head, the grip was made of dark rich leather. Finally, the guard looked like tooth pulled from a dragon, curved the same way as the blade. Pulling the blade free of its scabbard left her speechless. This was not the light color of steel. It was dark and smoky, she looked up at Gendry and his master.
"Your father, Lord Hand of the King came to us the day after you did. He brought with him the ceremonial sword of all previous Hands and told us to use it as the steel for your sword. You're lucky that I'm skilled enough to work with Valyrian Steel. The only one in King's Landing that is. While I had to work most of the steel itself, Gendry did most of the work, my Lady. Your father paid for your sword and decided to use the money you gave us to pay for a replacement of the Hand's sword." Tobho told her.
Lyanna sheathed the sword back into its scabbard and bowed to the two smiths. Thanking them profusely for their effort and skills. She promised that she would continue to bring all of her work to them in the future before running off to find her father. This was truly the happiest she had been since leaving home.
A/N: So for the sword design, I based it off of Orcrist from the Hobbit. It's a versatile weapon for a versatile woman. As to why Eddard would use something to like that for his daughter. She was dealt an injustice and was dishonored by his friend's family. He would do anything to right injustice. It was right and Eddard Stark did what was right. Review so I can know how I'm doing.
