"You cannot do this," Cersei hissed, nails digging into the skin of Lyanna's hands. "Do you wish to shame us before the whole realm?"
Lyanna shook off her hold. "The whole realm already knows about him," she pointed out, visibly unconcerned. "Tyrion Lannister is not a secret to be hidden away. He's a sweet boy and he deserves to be treated like you and me."
"He is not," the blonde protested. "He is a little monster and I will not have him ruining everything for me. You will not take him to greet our visitors."
Gnashing her teeth together, Lyanna held back the impulse to tell Cersei exactly who the monster was. She knew, however, that she would have had, indeed, a hard time of taking Tyrion out of his chamber. Lord Tywin's letter had instructed the Septa not to allow anyone near the child. She had thought that perhaps she could appeal to Cersei on the matters, yet she been wrong, and not in a most unexpected manner.
"Very well. Then I will remain here with Tyrion and you may greet the visitors." And that was her own folly talking. As part of Lord Lannister's household, she too had the duty of acting a proper daughter and receiving the guests. Shirking her duty could not end well. One year older and much the wiser for it, Cersei promptly slapped the back of Lyanna's head. The stinging blow ripped a yelp from the she-wolf. "You cow! What was that for?"
"For being a lack wit, you sow," Cersei growled back at her. "You will come with the rest of us and do what father said, if I have to drag you by the fair. I will not lose face because you feel the need to act the uneducated peasant for my little brother. Tyrion will survive a few hours of your absence."
"I might not survive your presence though," Lyanna grumbled under her breath, rubbing the sore spot in a gentle manner. And since no good deed went unpunished, Lyanna determined that she ought to make Cersei lose face in another manner, one which would not seem anything but accidental at its very worst.
But before such grand plans could be actively pursued, they had to ready themselves. Of course Cersei insisted that she be bedecked in her costliest gown and her hair had to be arranged just so. Lyanna merely gave a snort. She chose a nice kirtle in the colours of her own house with not too many decorations and caught a single red rose in her hair. She would have better liked one of the Winter Roses of the North, but none were to be found that far South.
Apparently males did not need quite so much time to ready themselves, for Ned, Jaime and Benjen were already in the yard when she and Cersei arrived. Lyanna walked next to her eldest brother and insinuated herself between him and Jaime.
"Are they close?" Cersei's voice rang out.
"According to those banners streaming in the wind they are," Ned pointed out, his voice holding just a light edge of mockery.
"Are your eyes not working well, my dear sister?" Lyanna added, not even bothering to conceal the mockery from her voice.
"Not this again," Jaime groaned. "Can you not get along for a few hours at least?" Much as he seemed to respect both his sisters, the old one and the new one, Jaime could be quite critical of their behaviour when it suited him. "Gods, I cannot wait for the peace of Lord Crakehall's service." At least there he wouldn't have to wonder if someone put stinging nettles in his soup thinking the bowl was Cersei's.
"We already apologised for the soup," Benjen piped in. AT Jaime's glare he had the good-grace to look abashed. "It was Lyanna's idea."
"Traitor," his older sister accused him.
Before anyone could start another row, however, Ned put his foot down, disciplining all within sight. Begrudgingly, the step-siblings and proper siblings made a tenuous peace, each promising to themselves that a time for retribution would come. And as an old saying went, revenge was a dish best served cold, the spirits calmed somewhat, if only to provide the minds with proper conditions for plotting and scheming.
If ever there was a more mismatched family than that brought together by a lion and a she0wolf, rarely had it been seen in the Seven Kingdoms. But one did have to be impressed with the air of reserve and superiority exhibited in such a studious manner by what most would term mere children. For what were these wolves and lions but children playing at games they did not understand?
The time for squabbling was past, for the first riders – donning armour and white cloaks – rode into the yard, much to Jaime's delight. Lyanna merely rolled her eyes at the awe on the face of all her three brothers and thought it extremely unfair that Tyrion had not been allowed to see them too. She was more interested, however, in seeing her mother than she was in any guest that set foot on Lannister land.
Alas, it was the right of those from nobler lines to come first within the home of Lord Tywin. As such the King's wheelhouse followed his knights and from within in came outside the King himself and his beleaguered Queen.
Behind them rode the Prince. Lyanna took a moment to observe him. She noted, in a rather disturbed manner, that Cersei had been right. He was the most beautiful – aye, she meant that – man she has ever seen.
Only after came Lord and Lady Lannister. Bowing, curtsies and introductions ensued. Lyanna was more than a bit traumatised when the King ogled Cersei. Had it been any other man giving her such looks, she would have been amused, as it was, however, she was siding with her golden sister – though somewhat reluctantly.
"And this must be your other daughter," Aerys said, his gaze finally landing on Lyanna. He looked at her expectantly. "What is your name girl?"
"I am Lyanna Stark, Your Majesty," she replied, half-wondering if the man's memory was weak. Lord Tywin had already told him what her name was.
"A Stark. Excellent." Unfortunately his words failed to produce any sort of relief. Lyanna did wish to know why her being a Stark was excellent. She did, however, want to run all back to Winterfell.