A short shriek rang in the hall followed by peels of laughter. One might wonder why no Septa come rushing up the stairs, cane in hand to chastise those who would disturb the peace in such fashion. However, neither hide, nor tail could be seen of such a stern woman. The shrieking continued, mingling with laughter and words of censure.
It had been a longstanding rule that if one valued their clothing and general well-being, one would not get between a dispute of the children. As Lord and Lady Lannister had taken themselves off to King's Landing at the behest of the King himself, an army of servants had been left to provide nourishment and other thing needed by the younglings. Eddard Stark had been left in charge of his siblings, being the eldest of them all and Jaime was to offer his full cooperation.
As it happened, those two much preferred the training grounds to their sisters' frequent – and rather loud – bickering when they happened upon one another, so they avoided such scenes, a natural consequence of their good sense and survival instincts. Benjen would trail after them.
Cersei, whose whole life felt as if it had been turned upside down by the arrival and continued lingering of these pests she had been forced to call brothers and sister, was understandably distressed to see the one creature she loathed more than the Starks in Lyanna's arms, gurgling and making happy noises. She had, consequently, made a valiant attempt to pry the little monster from Lyanna's arms, but all that earned her was a green glob of pea soup in her hair.
"Leave off," Lyanna told her, shielding the babe in her grasp from Cersei's harsh glares. "Don't you have a dulcimer to play? Or needlework to do?"
Both girls had been instructed in the fine arts of playing instruments and of creating pleasant needlework. If Lyanna excelled in the lessons pertaining to the beautiful instrument she'd been given as a gift by the lord of her new household, then she was a complete disaster at needlework. Cersei, while adequate enough when playing the dulcimer, was excellent with her own needlework.
A deep and never-abating rivalry had blossomed between the sisters. They would often taunt one another and try to outmatch each other in all endeavours. But, of course, each had her own talents to display. Praise was given to both from both proud father and mother. It was quite impossible to declare one or the other the victor of these skirmishes.
"That thing," Cersei pointed at Tyrion as she spat out the words, "that little monster took my silver bells!" Already a full head taller than Lyanna, Cersei loomed over her, green eyes sparkling with malice. "Make him give them back, hateful creature."
Glancing heavenwards in silent exasperation, Lyanna placed her hands on her hips like she had seen her mother do when scolding one of them. "That is what has you so miffed? Silver bells?" She turned around and rummaged through a pile of objects that Tyrion had been playing with. Something clinked softly as it flew through the air. "There."
If Lyanna had hoped that Cersei would be appeased, she was to be disappointed. Cersei inspected the object, her eyes growing darker and darker still. "Look at what he did." She shoved the bells back into Lyanna's hands. "He bit them."
Well and truly frustrated, Lyanna threw them to the ground. "And I'll bite you, if you don't leave." Grey met green and held, neither willing to admit defeat.
Behind them Tyrion had started crying, whether from hunger of because he was feeling threatened remained an uncertainty. For a moment longer, Lyanna held Cersei's gaze, but the piteous sounds of the babe wrenched her away. She turned towards Tyrion and lowered herself down to the ground attempting to calm him.
The perfect opportunity had arisen for Cersei to pay her back. Stealthily, she made for the bow of pea soup that was still half full. She took it in her hands and dumped its whole contents over Lyanna's lowered head.
The thick liquid trickled down her hair and beneath the hem of her down. Lyanna could do little but howl in dismay.
It was then that the Septa braved her own fears and poked the head in. Her plump cheeks reddened at the sight that greeted her. The laughing toddler on the floor and the two very filthy maids barely took note of her. Lyanna had lunged for Cersei, who had managed to outmanoeuvre her and evaded. But only for a few moments, as Lyanna caught her by the skirts and pulled.
Though taller and a bit stronger than Lyanna, Cersei, having not expected the force behind the younger girl's haul, toppled over. They both fell to the ground, a mass of writhing limbs and yells of protest. The Septa, thick and burly as she was, had a hard time prying them apart.
"No more!" the woman yelled. "No more, or I shall write to your parents and sent the raven right away with the message." She picked the babe on the up and deposited him in his cradle.
Fear struck by the threat, the two girls marched each into a different corner of the room. Such scenes as the one that had just taken place were not tolerated when their parents were present. More than once, both of them had had their ears pulled for causing such a scuffle. At least when their parents were home they had to observe a strict schedule. But in their absence, they were not to be dictated to – unless the threat of their disobedience made known loomed over them.
"Both of you shall bathe and don clean clothes and you are to see to your instruments and lesson," the septa instructed, breathing hard. She left them to order the baths.
Alone in the room, Cersei and Lyanna looked wearily one at the other.
"What cheek," the older one grumbled. "That hag, how dare she order us about?"
"I think we should listen," Lyanna spoke, yet her eyes shone with mischief. "We should play her a song. You bring the lute. I bring the pipe."
Similar looks crossed their faces as understanding was reached between them.