Chapter Six: Rickard

Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell smiled as his son Ned left to follow Howland Reed out of the castle. They had just finished a delicious meal of brazed salmon, paired nicely with extraordinary tales of the boy's adventures in the Neck. By his suggestion, Brandon had dined with Ser Oswell Whent and several other notable knights of the realm. He wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been in attendance at their little feast. He had heard much of the young man's prowess on the field, but had not yet had the pleasure of seeing him in action. He watched his daughter take her seat at the table across from him and braced himself for the onslaught. He didn't have to wait very long.

"Father, please don't make me do it."

"Lyanna, you're Robert's betrothed. You should attend the feast with the Baratheons. For heaven's sake, you'll be married to the man in less than a year."

"Well I don't want to do that either."

"Lyanna, you're a highborn lady, a Stark of Winterfell. Just like I've taught the boys, you are all gifted with the privileges of high birth, but with that comes the responsibilities. You cannot go through life riding with the wind in your hair, laughing at the world. It is time you faced your duty."

"Gods, why was I not born a man? Lyanna slumbed in her chair, sulking.

"If you had been born a man, you would still face responsibilities, Lyanna."

"Yes, but I wouldn't have to spread my legs so some sweaty southern mule could plow between them."

Her father couldn't help but chuckle. His daughter may take after the Starks in her appearance, but there was no missing the trace of her mother in her personality. Ever the lady in public, Clyrra had been a spicy woman with a crude sense of humor and a wit to outmatch most men. Perhaps the reason he had been so tolerant of Lyanna's wild behavior was that it reminded him so much of his precious Clyrra.

They both looked toward the door as the sound of Brandon's laughter carried up the stairway.

"Better to be a plowed field than a stallion trying to plow a block of ice."

"Lyanna!" Her father whispered, harshly.

"Father, I've told you my thoughts about Catelyn – "

"Yes, you've told everyone your thoughts about Catelyn."

"Yet no one will listen to me! It's obvious she has no feelings for Brandon. Sure, she thinks he's handsome, but she doesn't approve of his behavior. I can see it in her eyes. I think she still has feelings for that boy."

"She made it very clear that Petyr's feelings for her were not mutual. She seems like a strong woman. I thought you would admire her for that."

"Of course I respect her strength; I just don't think she's the right match for Brandon. He needs someone with a little more fire, and she needs someone with a good bit less…someone like…someone like Ned."

"Hoster Tully would never consent to wed his eldest daughter to a second son."

"Well," Lyanna said, admitting defeat, "at least she's not Lysa."

"Indeed," said Lord Rickard as his son Ned returned. Tall and solemn, already with a widespread reputation for his unquestionable sense of honor, Ned was a son any father would be proud to call his own. Still, he wished the boy would find something in life to spark a bit of passion in him. He would be knighted soon. Maybe it was time he started looking for a wife for his second son. Maybe one of Walder Frey's girls. That bond could do with a little strengthening.

"Ned, son, please sit. We have much to discuss and little time to do it." Ned took a seat next to his sister.

"This tournament was meant to be a cover for a secret meeting between several lords, myself included, and Prince Rhaegar."

"Father – " Ned stammered out, rising.

"Ned, Lord Arryn was one of those lords as well. His views mirror mine. As his squire, you do him no dishonor by being a part of this conversation. Now sit."

"Now, there are those that say King Aerys is mad. Having met the man myself, I am quite inclined to agree. Several months ago, it came to my attention that there is a plan to expedite the succession."

"This is treason." Ned stood again. "Lord Arryn would not agree to this."

"You think Lord Arynn has greater honor than I, do you? Tell me, Ned. Three years ago, when I had the snow fever right before our visit from Lord Manderly, was it dishonorable for Brandon to stand in my place?"

"No, of course not. He is your heir, and you were unwell."

"Just so. King Aerys is unwell, Ned. We are not talking of disposing of the king. We are only talking of having the king's heir take over responsibilities."

"Father," Lyanna piped in, "when will the lords meet with the prince?"

"We will not."

"What?" Lyanna raised her brow.

"The king's spider has become privy to our plan, so we must lay low for awhile. The king himself is here to make sure our meeting does not happen."

"Then why are you telling us all of this?" Ned asked, obviously still uncomfortable with the subject.

"Because you need to be on your guard. Aerys will be looking for traitors. None of you will give him any reason to doubt your undying loyalty to him and to house Targaryen. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father." Said Ned.

"Lyanna?"

"If I must." She smiled at her father and placed her smooth hand on top of his.

"Father?" said Ned as they prepared to leave the room for the opening ceremonies.

"Yes, son?"

"Does Robert know?"

"Yes, Robert knows, although to my knowledge he has not shared this information with his younger brothers."

"And Robert agrees?"

"Yes, Lord Robert Baratheon has promised the support of Storm's End. He's a Targaryen, too, well, once removed on his mother's side. It pains him to move against his king, but he knows it's necessary for the good of the realm. He fully supports Rhaegar."

"Really?" Lyanna asked.

"Yes, I believe the words "savior of the realm" were used."

Ned laughed and held out his arm to escort his sister.

"Ready?"

"No, but Father says it will do no good to protest. Lead on, dear brother. Let's get this over with so I can get back to being ungrateful."

With that the siblings headed toward the great hall, followed closely by their beloved father.