"Where is Jaime?" Ned asked, entering the bedchamber in his dusty clothes. He waited patiently for Lyanna to get up from the ground and straighten her skirts. He even took one of the silver bells from her hair. "Well?"

"He is not here," Lyanna replies with a shrug. "Why would he be in my bedchamber?" She snatched back the bell and repositioned it in her hair, a mild smile crossing her face.

"This is Cersei's bedchamber also." The fact that her brother pointed that out failed to impress Lyanna, as doubtlessly it should have. Seeing her confusion Ned heaved a sigh. "He might have wished to confide in his sister."

"In my– apologies, I mean our bedchamber?" Her brother's eyes narrowed at the mockery and he opened his mouth to reply in kind when the door burst open again and Benjen came running in with a triumphant look on his face. "Don't drag mud all over the floors!" Lyanna chided the boy, hurrying to get him out of the room.

"But I found Jaime," the child complained, pouting as he was pushed out into the hall. "I have to tell Ned."

"You can tell him from the hall," Lyanna countered. "There's no need to get dirt on everything."

"Where is Jaime?" Ned broke in between the two of them before the conflict could escalate any further. "He usually arrives in time for training."

That was indeed strange, Lyanna decided. "Is he with Cersei by the rocks again?" she questioned. It would be a lie to say she was surprised by her brother's nod. The twins would sometimes sneak away and spend some time together. Lyanna imagined there were still some secrets best left between siblings.

"If you knew where he was, why didn't you say so?" her brother groaned. "Lyanna!"

"I didn't know where he was," Lyanna insisted. "The mud on Benjen's feet reminded me that I had seen those two by the rocks sometimes. Really, Ned. They must be wanting to speak privately sometimes. It would do you good to remember that Jaime Lannister is not truly your brother."

"And you should get it through your skull that we are stuck together so long as Tywin Lannister and our mother live." She'd annoyed him, Lyanna knew. "Brothers can also be chosen."

"Do as you will," was her reply. Ned was welcome to embrace Jaime as his brother if he so wished, but Lyanna did not have to think of Cersei as her sister. "But I still maintain that you should wait for Jaime to arrive in his own time."

"I'm not a lack wit, Lyanna," Ned growled at her. Her brother could be quite unpleasant when he put his mind to it. Even more so than Cersei at times, and Cersei was quite spiteful on her good days. "I know when to leave well off."

Scoffing at his pronouncement, Lyanna pushed past him out the door. With a look towards Benjen, she decided to take matters in her own hands. "Well, you can go wait for Jaime and I shall take Benjen to wash his boots."

"Why do I have to wash them? A servants can do it," her young brother rebelled.

"Nevertheless, you are going to be washing your own boots on this day, my brother, else it shall be the floors you wash." The threat ensured that he would listen, at leasy enough to get his booths clean. "I'm going to fetch Tyrion."

"Shouldn't you let the child sleep?" Ned questioned, an unsure look on his face. "You know we're not supposed to take him out. Lord Tywin would hardly approve."

"Lord Tywin is not here," Lyanna countered in a soft manner. "He's just a boy, Ned. A boy who is unfortunate in his birth. He sleeps enough."

It had been one of those rules instilled by Tywin Lannister that his youngest son should be kept out of sight at all possible times. As such Tyrion had spent much of his time locked in the nursery and at first Lyanna hadn't dared to defy the order, though she'd sneak into the room much to the Septa's annoyance. However, she'd found that with care, the child could be slipped out into the open and allowed to play in the gardens for some time.

Tyrion was, predictably enough, in his little bed, though he was not sleeping. Deformed as the boy was, his mind was sharp and quick, and rather inquisitive. He was rather liked Benjen had been at that age. Or so Lyanna imagined, for she didn't rightly remember Benjen when he'd been a babe. Had she not know Tyrion's age, Lyanna realised, she would have had a difficult time of guessing it. Boys his age were normally twice as large and trice as loud, but not him. Tyrion could barely stand on his own two feet, short and crooked as they were.

"Now then, baby brother, shall we pretend I'm a snark come to carry you off into the wild?" she inquired sweetly, bending over to pick him up in her arms. "I'll drag you to my lair and then I'll cook a good stew out of you."

"Yuck." It was safe to say that stew was not among the favourite foods of his. Lyanna could not help chuckling at the disgusted face he pulled. "Anything but stew."

"I'll roast you on a spit then." Tyrion merely giggled at the threat and held onto her a little tighter than before. She carried him down the stairs, Benjen trailing after them, possibly making faces at the child. Lyanna couldn't tell as she hadn't eyes in the back of her head like their mother.

Once outside, they tiptoed to the brook, careful to avoid the eyes of too many servants. Those who did see them knew well enough that it would come to nothing even if they tried to take the child from Lyanna. She'd merely clutch him tighter and pretend she didn't hear a word of their protests. In fact, it was one of Lyanna's talents, hearing only what she wanted to hear.

"Benjen, enough with the faces now," she said when they finally reached the destination. Tyrion was deposited on a patch of soft grass as Lyanna watched Benjen.

Her brother paid her back, of course, flinging water at her. Some even landed on Tyrion who'd crawled closer to them.