i have to say that i went back and forth about continuing this. mainly because of grrm dislike of fanfiction. i felt like it was wrong in a way. i want to state that i mean no disrespect with this. these characters are not mine and i could never be of his caliber. but it seemed to me (and i may be wrong b/c i usually am) that he was more concerned about people trying to say that fanfic writers could say he stole their ideas for $$. so i would like to say right now that i am not doing this for any hope of financial gain. and if (and that is a pretty big if) by some miracle he should read some of the slop i write and like it and use it i would literally pee myself and die. or if it should somehow resemble something he already had in mind, then that was a fluke because i in now way know what is in that man's head and would be honored to just even vaguely come close to his talent and thoughts. stupid i know. but i love the idea of these two and i just want to live through them a moment longer. i hope he understands and i hope everyone enjoys.

as always feel free to review

~oOo~

Lyanna sat beneath the heart tree of within the godswood of Winterfell and wiped away a tear as it trailed down her cheek. Great bone white limbs stretched around her like arms as blood red leaves dripped from long thin fingers towards the ground. The air was crisp and there was now only the occasional spot of snow still left upon the ground, holding desperately onto the cold, not wishing to let go of winter. But even now it was warm enough to be outdoors without a heavy cloak. Lyanna sat among the roots with nothing but an overdress and gloves. It would seem that the false spring had at last let go the lie to become truth. It was a wondrous thing to Lyanna, having never seen the summer she had been looking forward to this since she was little. It was considered a time of renewal, of rebirth. It was a time to celebrate the survival and resilience of the Northmen against the winter, against the cold.

Yes, Lyanna had been looking forward to this for some time.

A white raven had come this morning from the citadel. Spring had come. Which meant that soon they would make for Riverrun for Brandon's marriage to Caetlyn Tully, and then to Storm's End almost immediately after.

Storm's End. She supposed it was an end alright. Lyanna wiped at her face once more with a pathetic little sniffle.

But that was not the only raven to come to Winterfell that morning. A second raven had also been received and with it an announcement.

An announcement that had been heralded by raven to all corners of the land.

A royal announcement.

Lyanna looked down at the book on her lap. She opened the leather bound cover and flipped absently through the pages till she stopped at a specific point. She pulled gently pulled two of the pages apart to expose a blue winter rose that had been pressed between.

Three months had passed since the tourney at Harrenhal. They had left the tourney that morning abruptly, arriving at Riverrun that evening. Lyanna had been put up in Brandon's future wife's room, as Catelyn and her sister were not at Riverrun at the moment. Something Lyanna suspected Brandon was grateful for.

She had kept her opinions to herself though. She was in no mood to share.

The next morning their father would send Lyanna, Brandon, and Benjen on to Winterfell while Ned would make for the Kingsroad with a group of Lord Tully's men to join with Robert and from there they would head to the Eryie and Lord Arryn. Their father would stay behind to finalize details with Lord and Lady Tully.

Lyanna hated to see Ned leave. It seemed to her that the older they became the less they were able to see of each other. Soon Brandon would be wed and one day lord of Winterfell. Lyanna would be sent away to the Stormlands while Ned would more than likely join the Night's Watch with Benjen close behind. The future of the Stark children was well secured. Their fates seemingly sealed.

It would take another three to four days of travel before they would reach Winterfell. And that was only if the weather permitted and they did not make any unnecessary stops between. While the trip to Riverrun had been predominantly silent, the mood lightened the closer they came to home. Brandon always did enjoy being in the lead and it was not long before he was laughing once more at some foolishness of Benjen's or enjoying a quick hunt while on the road. It seemed that the further north they traveled the more jovial the mood became. Normally Lyanna would have joined them in this, pitting her tracking skills against theirs, competing to see who could catch the biggest game, tempting Ben into some sort of mischief. But on this trip she remained mostly to herself. Brandon would seek her out periodically throughout the trip. Reassuring her of her innocence. Repeating their father's words on how no house of the North would question her honor in this matter and how they would defend her against anyone who would dare affront. Not that anyone would dare. Brandon had even jested that it was for the best that they left when they did, claiming that once Lyanna had regained her head from the insult she would have taken the pretty little prince off his horse herself, throwing the kingdom into turmoil.

Lyanna would say nothing during these conversations. She allowed him to continue to believe her silence was due to the trying situation her sensitive woman's heart was just put through. And perhaps there was some truth to that for her heart was not the same since Harrenhal. Lyanna did not think that anything would ever be the same again.

And indeed, upon arriving at Winterfell, Lyanna did not feel the relief she had hoped she would feel in familiar surroundings. Instead she felt fenced in, trapped. It was as if Winterfell was no longer her home but a holding area, somewhere she had to wait till she was sent away to do her duty.

Maester Walys had met them in the main hall when they arrived, giving Brandon the reports and messages that had arrived by man or raven while they were away. Their father would not return for another two nights at the least, and so Brandon was the acting lord of Winterfell till he arrived. Lyanna listened vaguely as maester Walys rambled on about wildlings at the wall, a nasty rumor about the Bolton's practicing first night and something about a raven in the rookery that refuses to come down from the rafters. Lyanna had no interest in anything he said. She was not very fond of maester Walys, not one bit. Although she had no proof, she strongly suspected that he had something to do with her and Brandon's betrothals. Her father only seemed interested in what happened in the South when he was around.

Of course, if it had not been for maester Walys they would not have gone to Harrenhal. He had told her father that it would be good for House Stark to attend, as the houses of the North were often overlooked or taken for granted. It was important to be seen at functions such as these, to be recognized and acknowledged. And so her father decided that he was right and relented. Lyanna wondered if he still thought it a good idea.

She suppressed a dark little smile at the thought of her father discussing with maester Walys at just how they were acknowledged while at the tourney.

Her brothers settled themselves back in to the normal rhythm of things once home. Sparring and hunting and the like. Once their father returned Lyanna also returned to those things that were familiar and comforting to her. With the coming of the spring she was able to spend more time out riding. The days were getting longer and no one seemed to notice her absence when she was riding. It was typical of her to spend hours out on horseback. Her father would always send someone out with her when she roamed, often a banner man or some poor vassal, but they could never keep up and Lyanna would always lose them. Her rides would usually end when Brandon or Ned was sent out to fetch her.

Of course Ned was gone now. She hated it when he left. She would miss him terribly while he was gone. She missed all of her brothers when they were gone. And soon she would be gone, replaced by Brandon's new bride.

Lyanna squeezed her eyes shut against a new swell of tears that threatened to flow. It was unfair. It was so unfair.

A tear streaked down her cheek and dropped onto the open book in her lap. She wiped furiously at her face once more and clutched the book to her chest.

There was once slight difference in her behavior since returning. Lyanna had taken an interest in the books in the library tower at Winterfell. She had begun roaming the numerous shelves of books, climbing up and down ladders and stairs, seeking out much older manuscripts and accounts of the Stark history. There were some fairly dark stories in Winterfell's past. Disagreements between kin that led to battles that led to new houses and old grudges. Promises and oaths of loyalty and fealty and the punishment that followed when broken. There were also stories of magic. Stories involving the first men of the north and the Children of the Forrest, of greenseers and even dragons. An undying respect for the old gods was predominant throughout and animosity between the wildings that seemed to know no real beginning. She had immersed herself so much that it began to affect her dreams. She would see images of blood on the snow, of children who hid in amongst hearttrees. She even dreamed of a dragon rising above Winterfell as it burned. A great flood of fire that raged against an oncoming wall of ice.

Disturbing dreams. But only dreams and not surprising considering where her head has been lately.

She thought of him often and wondered if his mind ever turned to her. More than likely not. He would be far too preoccupied now. Especially since the latest royal announcement.

Especially since the princess was carrying his child.

Lyanna did not cry this time. She would not. It was not her place. She did not deserve to feel even the tiniest bit of sorrow at this news. She would make herself numb to any news of the royal family. The ever growing royal family. Her fingers ran lightly over the blue rose that was pressed between the pages once more.

She was tired of her fate being dictated by others. She had grown weary of her heart being torn into pieces to be passed around to whom others deemed as the worthy candidate. She was a woman now. She was a Stark of Winterfell. A daughter of the greatest of Northern houses. It was her right to have some sort of say in what happened to her, to her heart, to her body. She did not wish to marry. At least not at this time. And when the time did arrive then it would be because she deemed it time, it would be because she deemed the suitor worthy. And so she had resolved to speak on this matter with her father. She thought that perhaps it could be as simple as explaining her feelings to her father. She had thought he would see. She had thought he would understand.

Of course, things did not work out as Lyanna had hoped.

"No Lyanna. It is done."

"But father –"

"No Lyanna. I said it is done."

"But you won't even hear me," Lyanna protested.

"What is there to hear that I don't already know?" her father asked. "Robert has bedded other women, it is said he has a child, you fear he won't change …"

"I don't fear he won't change," Lyanna interrupted, "I know he won't change! Why would you want to send me somewhere I'll be miserable? Send me to someone I don't love?"

"Please child," her father said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "you won't be miserable and love is neither here nor there. No one enters these things in love, it comes with time. Leaving the familiar for the unknown is –"

"I am not afraid to go," she shouted exasperated, "I don't want to go! Don't you even care?"

Her father brought his fingers to his temples and began to move them in a circular pattern as he rested his elbows on his desk.

"Lyanna, you are not yourself. A … change is upon you. You're –"

"A change? You mean my bleed father. My blood, moon's blood, or flowering if your so –"

"That is enough Lyanna!" Lord Rickon exclaimed, slamming his hands down on the desk as he stood up angrily.

"I suppose it's not surprising that I can't talk about my body since I can't even be the one to decide what happens to it."

"Stubborn, willful, ungrateful child," her father roared as he stormed furiously around the desk towards her.

Lyanna willed her feet to stay and lifted her chin defiantly.

"If I am stubborn or willful then it's your fault," she shouted. "It's your fault for teaching me to hunt and to ride, for giving me a sword. For allowing me to think for myself and make my own choices!"

Her father had moved swiftly as he came around his desk, fluttering papers as he moved. But as Lyanna spoke, his steps slowed till he came to a halt before her. His face, that had been filled with fury at first softened as he looked down at her.

"You're right, it is my fault," he said with a resigned sigh. "I did teach you those things. I have only ever wanted what was best for you. I want you to be able to think and care for yourself. Which is why I know this is right for you. Your will won't be broken at Storm's End, it will thrive. You will come into your own there in a way you never could here. You will rule that house and those lands and show that boy what it is to be a true and honorable man." He held her face in his hands as he looked down at her, his tone gentle. "You are right. I did not raise you to be weak. You have too much of your mother in you for that. You have always been strong and that strength will serve you well. Which is why I know this is what is best for you, what is right. You don't believe me now, but one day you will understand. It may not be till you have your own children, but you will understand."

Lyanna had wanted to continue to fight, to continue to demand her freedom. But she heard the stern but gentle tone of her father's voice and knew it would be useless. She up in his eyes and saw the love and pride and sadness there and knew it was over. His mind was made and would not change.

"Forgive me father," she whispered as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

"You'll be the death of me," he chuckled softly.

She had been prepared for some resistance of course. It would have been foolish of her not to. But it had never even occurred to Lyanna that she would lose.

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts and she snapped the book on her lap shut.

"I thought I might find you here …"

Lyanna looked up and was not surprised to see Brandon looking down at her where she sat. He stared at her for a moment in silence before settling himself down next to her.

"Sulking about it isn't going to change anything you know. Father's not going to change his mind."

"Thank you Bran," she said with a sideways glance, "I would have never figured that out if not for you."

"Don't get pissy with me. It just so happens that I agree with you."

Lyanna gave him a flat look. "Do you."

"Yeah, I do. I don't want to marry. Especially some soft southron girl. The ceremony is going to be in a sept with vows according to the bloody seven. Hells, she'll probably make me build her a sept once she's here."

"Then why …"

"Because it's expected," he answered with a shrug. "It's what is done. And it's my duty."

"It's not fair."

"Nah, it's not. But then life isn't really fair, or at least so I've been told," he said with a droll little smile.

Lyanna scowled at her brother and shook her head. "Why are you here Bran?"

"Why, because you're my dear, sweet, baby sister and I love you of course," he exclaimed with mock indignation. Lyanna rolled her eyes as her mouth became a thin line in an attempt to suppress a smile.

"I'm not a baby," she muttered.

"Oh yeah you are, and a rather loud one at the moment. Don't give me that look, you know I'm right. Did you know that father has put off any talk of your betrothal for years? He refused anyone to broach the topic with him. I can't even count how many times he turned Robert away before he finally saw him and even then it was because maester Walys and Lord Arryn convinced him."

Lyanna's eyes narrowed at the mention of maester Walys.

"Even if they hadn't convinced him, he would have relented eventually," Brandon continued. "You and I, we have a lot riding on us. I am the eldest, you the only daughter. We are the ties that alliances are made with. You will be Lady to well over two dozen housed after you are wed to Robert. Your sons will lords with thousands of bannermen at their call."

"Somehow I don't think that my sons will be the only sons Robert will have," Lyanna said bitterly.

Brandon barked out a laugh. "Fair enough, still it could be worse. Would you rather be shipped off to the Umbers or the Boltons? Or maybe Bear island? Ah!"

Brandon yelped as Lyanna hit him hard on the arm, causing him to jump.

"I'll take that as a no," he cried, rubbing his arm.

Lyanna sat back against the tree and folded her arms across her chest. She leaned her head back and looked up at the canopy of red leaves above them.

"And so I am nothing more than a pawn. Expected to go where I are told."

"No," Brandon said so emphatically that Lyanna turned to see him staring at her, his voice firm and his visage serious. "You are Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, the She-Wolf. Daughter of the Warden of the North and descendent of the first men. Wolf's blood runs through your veins and I expect you to show those prissy little southron lords just that."

Lyanna felt nothing but pride as she looked at her brother. There was a loyalty between all of them that she thought nothing could break. She loved them all fiercely and would die defending them and they her.

Lyanna slipped her arm through his and laid her head against his shoulder.

"He won't ever change," she said softly, "I know he won't."

"Probably not," Brandon agreed with a wry smile, "but I have confidence that he will pay accordingly. Come," he said with a quick squeeze of her hand, "there's something I want you to see that I know will cheer you up. What's this?" As he spoke he had placed her cloak over his arm causing her book to fall to the ground. He picked it up and looked curiously at the cover. "The Tales of Bael the Bard. Where did you get this?"

"From the library, where do you think? My cloak please," she said as she snatched the book from his hands and turned so he could set her cloak about her shoulders. She glanced down quickly while her back was turned to make sure the blue rose was still secure in its place before adjusting her cloak.

"That's a bit of odd reading," Brandon observed.

"Well maester Walys did want me to focus more the history of Winterfell. Did you know that there may be dragon eggs in the crypt?"

"Oh? And just where did you get this bit of information?" he asked amused.

"Something about Mushroom's Stories or The Documents of Mushroom or something like that."

"Huh, sounds reliable."

"You would be surprised at how much truth can be found in unlikely places," she sniffed.

"Oh really," Brandon laughed, "by all means, please tell me of some unlikely places where the truth abides."

"I don't know why I would even bother," Lyanna retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Your mind is far too feeble to grasp the concepts."

"Hey now," Brandon warned with a grin, "I said put the southron lords in their place. Let's not get a head of ourselves shall we?"

"You asked."

"So I did."

They came around to a side court yard of the main keep where the rookery sat. The cawing of ravens and the occasional call of a hawk carried outside from the widows. Lyanna gave Brandon a questioning look. He grinned back at her.

"Come on, you'll see."

They walked in to the sound of wings and the smell of bird shit. Most of the ravens sat in their cages. They had to be kept separate from the hawks who would try to make a meal of them, or sometimes the other way around. The ravens could be quite large and very clever, many would hold their own. But they were valuable and so kept safe.

Lyanna looked at Brandon once more, this time with slightly more annoyance than curiosity. Brandon just folded his arms across his chest with a little smirk and nodded his head towards the back wall. Lyanna turned to see Benjen crouched down in a corner, bow and arrow in his hand, his eyes locked on the dark rafters above. What the hells was he doing?

"Ben?"

"Shhh!" he hissed back at her, his gaze never leaving the rafters. Lyanna looked back at Brandon.

"Has he gone daft?" she asked incredulously.

Brandons smirk spread into a sideways grin.

"No more than usual," he said. "While you've been moping around in your chambers, he's been coming down here for the past fortnight trying to shoot that raven that won't come down from the rafters."

"A raven? Are you talking about that raven that was hiding in the rafters when we first came home?"

"The same," Brandon confirmed with a chuckle. "If I didn't know better I would say it is playing with our baby brother."

Lyanna squinted up into the rafters in an attempt to see her Benjen's target but could make out nothing in the shadows.

"I can't even see anything. Are you sure it's even up there?"

"Oh it's up there," Brandon said looking at the rafters as well, "it's a clever thing."

"Will you both shut it!" Ben snapped. "It'll never come down with all your squawking."

Lyanna looked at Brandon who looked at her from the corner of his eye with an ever present grin. But when he looked back up the grin faltered as his eyes became wide.

"Look there," he whispered pointing, "there! There it is! Oh he's a beast."

Lyanna looked back up to see the great black bird staring down at them with dark inky eyes. It had flown down to one of the lower rafters above them and was studying them intently. It was much larger than any of the other raven in the rookery, and its beak looked to be an odd color of dark red to Lyanna. Or perhaps it was just the way the lights and the shadow played upon it, it was hard to tell from this distance. It stared down at them, wings slightly spread as it moved from foot to foot, almost as if pacing. A low deep grumble of a caw seemed to emanate from it as moved back and forth on the rafter. It seemed to Lyanna as if its eyes locked on hers while the low guttural sounds took the shape of words.

"Jenny," it cawed with a rasp, "Jenny of Oldstones …"

Suddenly there was a great flapping of wings and the twang of a bow string as the raven took flight and an arrow struck the empty space where it had previously sat. It circled the rafters above as Ben nocked another arrow and took aim only to miss once more as it flew out the upper window.

"Ah you missed!" shouted Brandon. "Come on! Outside! Outside!" he called running out the door with Ben shouting behind him.

"Well if you would get out of the bloody way!"

As they ran outside in their haste and excitement, neither one seemed to notice that Lyanna had forgotten to breathe.

That night after they had supped she returned to her chambers. Her brothers had searched the skies the rest of that day and into the night searching for the raven but all of their attempts were in vein. They would not catch another sight of the great black raven although Brandon would tease Benjen for missing, surprised that he missed such a large target. But Lyanna was not surprised. Nor was she surprised when she heard the flapping of wings at her chamber window that night, a great black raven roosted there waiting. She walked over and took the message that was tied to its leg and unrolled it.

"If ever you should have need …" it said.

It was signed with a dragon coiled around a laughing tree.