Lyanna gasped, rolling to the side and retrieving her fallen sword before jumping to stand on her feet again. She put as much distance as she could between her and the prince, fighting to regain her breath. He just gave her a feline smile. The princess had known he was good, but she hadn't known he was that good. The knowing smirk on his face made her want to punch him.
"Tired already, my lady?" he taunted her, turning his spear on his hand with the ability that centuries of fighting had given him.
"Just getting started," Lyanna replied, though she felt like dropping to the floor and sleeping for a week.
The sun had just risen in the horizon when they had met at the back side of the enormous castle, in the gardens, and it was high in the sky now. Lyanna's braids were half undone and she was not only tied but also angry. Angry because it had been a long time since anyone had made her sweat that much. Even Brandon would have yielded to her by now.
"Are you sure?" He moved around her, like a wolf circling his pray. "Because it seems to me that you could use a break."
He moved his spear to rest behind his neck and on his shoulders, and she gave him a sweet smile, giving a step toward him. Letting him think that she was defeated. Oberyn opened his mouth, as if to say something, but she was quicker. She dropped to the grass, thrusting her sword into the ground and using it to support her body as she moved her legs under Oberyn's. He fell backward, muttering a curse, and hit the ground hard. He made to stand only to find Lyanna's steel on his neck, as the princess smirked at him, her face inches away from his.
"I win," Lyanna declared, pride filling her voice.
Oberyn blinked. Then blinked again. Then he laughed and the sound was so contagious that the princess chuckled. He should have not forgotten that she was not a pray for him to devour but a wolf with frozen claws.
"You can move your sword now," he pointed out, noticing that her steel was still on his throat. It was Lyanna who blinked that time, suddenly aware of how close they still were, and stood, offering him her hand.
The prince rubbed the back of his head as soon as he was standing again. "That hurt," he complained and followed her back to the other side of the castle.
"You are such a baby," she laughed at him, and he gave her a hard stare, embers dancing in the dark coals of his eyes, but if he thought to scare her, he should have tried harder.
Oberyn didn't answer as they made their way inside the massive castle. He just stared at her, because she had surprised him. Even if he had known that she knew how to fight, that she was comfortable in her fighting leathers, he hadn't actually expected her to last that much against him. And he certainly hadn't expected her to out-best him. The surprise was not unwelcomed at all, though. He played with his spear on his left hand and frowned at her.
"Did your father give you that sword?"
Lyanna shook her head, her grey eyes rising to meet his gaze. "It was a gift from my brothers, as well and a pair of twin daggers."
"You have them on you?" he inquired.
The princess looked at him through hooded eyes. To lie or tell the truth…She just smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't be doing a great job at protecting myself if I told you, would I?"
Oberyn gave her a smirk. She didn't have them; he had enough experience with weapons to know that already. After all, he had been the one to teach his second daughter how to conceal enough daggers in her clothes to be a walking armoury. The red viper didn't tell her that, though, amused as he had been with her answer. His smile dropped, when Robert Baratheon turned the corner at the opposite side of corridor.
"Ignore him," Lyanna whispered next to him, tensing.
"He won't ignore us," he replied, and had been right because, even if the corridor, as everything in that damned half-burned castle, was huge, the King of the Stormlands walked straight to them, his blue eyes filled with storms.
"Lya," Robert smiled at her and reached for her hand, placing a kiss on the back of her palm. His eyes were on the red viper, though, and the princess hated it. Not only because he was surely thinking that they had been doing things that they hadn't been doing, but also because, as she had told her brother, what she did or didn't do was none of anyone's bloody business. "Ned told me you were away," he continued, finally moving his eyes to her. His smiled turned kind.
"Yes," the princess nodded, moving her hand to rest on the prince's shoulder, "Oberyn was showing me some of his moves."
She didn't dare to look at Oberyn as she spoke, but by the look Robert gave him she was sure the viper was smirking. A sudden warmness reached her, and the hand that was still touching him shivered. His power. A warning for the Storm King.
"And we should keep going," he added, "we had plans to go ridding, after all."
Lyanna had to bite her lower lip not to laugh, and nodded when Robert's disbelieving eyes met her own. "Right, we should go."
Another polite smile and they were walking down the corridor in silence. It wasn't until they were far away from there, far away from the rage that was coming out of Robert in waves, that Lyanna laughed, and Oberyn joined her.
"Such a wicked thing you are, princess"
"Wicked? For telling him the truth? Have I not spent the morning learning some of your fighting moves?" She couldn't stop laughing, because it felt good to be able to do as she wanted for once.
"You know what he was thinking, Lyanna." Would she ever stop surprising him? Such a fine partner she was and such a great company.
"Well, let him think." It was then that she noticed her hand was resting on his forearm and moved it away. "Maybe he'll leave me alone at last."
They remained silent for a while and, as they reached Lyanna's solar, Oberyn turned to her. "You should freeze him if he doesn't," he advised her, "let the south know what the She-Wolf of Winterfell can do."
"Robert has brothers. They would retaliate." She made a face, and it was fun to see that seemed to be the only thing holding her back.
He left her after that, and strode down the corridor and down the stairs to his own chambers. It wasn't until he had discarded his clothes and was getting inside the warm tub of his bathroom, that Oberyn noticed he was still smiling.
Lyanna was sitting at the dining table stuffing some stew in her mouth when her brother came in. He took his dark leather jacket off and left it on one of the chairs before moving to sit next to her, his grey eyes rising to meet hers.
"What?" she asked with her mouth full of food, and then took her glass of wine to help her swallow it all.
"So," he started, "why did Robert tell me that you have been, and I quote, screwing the Red Viper of Dorne?"
The princess almost chocked, even if Ned's words were not entirely unexpected. She had known from the moment she had talked to the King of Storm's End that he would go to tell Ned, it was half the reason she had done it. A test for Robert, one that he had miserably failed.
"I'm not, okay?" she assured him, "Robert is just letting his imagination run free."
Ned let his head fall to rest between his hands, visibly troubled, and Lyanna messed his hair, laughing. "You worry too much," she pointed out, going back to eating her stew.
"One of us had to, right?" Ned laughed too, but then he turned serious again. "I don't care about what you do, Lya, as long as you are safe and happy. But Robert is my friend, and he keeps saying that he loves you."
Lyanna shrugged.
"Maybe he does," she said, "or maybe he just thinks he does. Whatever his reasons he has no right to think himself my owner."
"He doesn't."
"Yes, he does, Ned." Lyanna cut him off, and Ned nodded. Not wanting to keep on discussing the matter, she smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. "So, what is this that you have been doing since yesterday?"
Her brother's eyes drifted away from her and to her food, and he took the liberty of stealing some of it. "What do you mean?" he asked, pouring a glass of wine for himself.
"What I mean, big brother, is that your room is across from mine, and I know you didn't sleep there last night."
Ned still didn't meet her eyes and she could almost see his mind working, thinking, trying to find something to say, and trying to decide to tell her the truth or not. She didn't push him, because she knew that Ned was of a private nature, and would only tell her if he was ready. At last, he turned to her, colour rising to his cheeks.
"I met her some decades ago," he confessed, a smile finding its way to his lips, "and we hadn't even spoken in a long time but I saw her again yesterday and…" he let out a shy laugh.
Lyanna chuckled happily and Eddard shook his head, knowing what she was going to say even before she spoke.
"Can I meet her?"
"Lya…" he put his hand on hers, "Not yet. I don't want anyone knowing about us."
The princess was still smiling as she nodded at him. She should have guessed that he wouldn't. Not because of him, of course, for men were granted the liberty to do whatever they pleased with their eternity, but because of his lover, so others wouldn't gossip about her. Whoever the girl was, if anyone dared say something about her, though, Lyanna was certain they'd find themselves trapped in ice and frozen to death before they could run away. Ned was indeed the calmer of all of her siblings, but that didn't mean he was any less lethal.
She was lost.
She had left her chambers soon after finishing her lunch, and had headed for the library of the castle, which she had heard was as big as a castle itself. But she couldn't find it. She didn't even know where she was. Groaning in frustration she rested against the wall nearest to her, closing her eyes.
"Are you alright?" a female voice asked, and Lyanna opened her eyes to find Ashara Dayne staring at her, a smile on her beautiful face.
"No," the princess confessed, "I was looking for the library but I'm sure it's safe to say that I'm utterly lost."
Ashara's lips moved, as though she wanted to smile or laugh and Lyanna wouldn't have blamed her if she had. Instead, the dornish lady walked toward her, moving a lock of her dark her behind her ear and raising her violet eyes to Lyanna's grey ones.
"I could show you the way," she offered.
"Thank you," the princess nodded as Ashara made her turn to the corridor on their left.
The dornish lady's lilac dress floated around them both as they walked and Lyanna chatted happily with her as they strode down the castle, asking her about her homeland. And was surprised to find that it had been years since Ashara had last seen Starfall.
"Princess Elia moved to Dragonstone and I went with her," the lady shrugged.
"Such loyalty. Not many people would have done it."
But Ashara shook her head. "It was out of love for my friend, not duty to my country. I didn't want her to be alone in a place she did not know."
Lyanna nodded silently, a smile on her lips, and looked her from head to toe. Seeing this lady before her, she wondered how Elia Nymeros Martell behaved with her people to inspire them in such a way.
"There you have it," Ashara informed, pointing at a pair of giant wooden doors at the end of the hall, "and, not to be rude, you should try not to get lost inside."
The princess laughed. "I'll try. Thank you again, my lady."
Ashara bowed her head at her before turning around to leave, and Lyanna didn't have the heart to tell her again that it wasn't necessary for her to do that. Shaking her head, she headed for the library, and stood in awe as soon as she opened the doors.
The library was a castle on its own and the princess couldn't see the end of it from where she stood under the massive door frame. The walls were covered by shelves filled with books and books and more books. And the shelved themselves were art, carved in intricate patterns. The great columns of dark stone that rose from the floor to the ceiling were carved to resemble a pair of great chains that tangled in one another. A terrifying thing that had been a part of Harren the Black's coat of arms and remained in his castle eons after he had been burnt alive by the first Targaryen King.
Feeling like she was going to get lost inside of it but not caring much about it, Lyanna walked into the room with a smile on her face. There weren't many people inside, at least not that she could see, so she started walking fast between the bookshelves, reading the titles of the books and taking some out to inspect them before putting them back. It took her a while to understand how the volumes were organized but when she did she began her search for anything that spoke of her motherland. In the end the princess found a whole section that spoke about the first Kings of the North and took some of them to a nearby table to read.
It was reading a chronicle about King Brandon the Builder and his fight against the immortal demons that lay up in the north in the forsaken lands of always winter, that Oberyn found her hours later. Unlike most times he approached her, when she would not feel his presence until he was standing so close to her that she could feel his breath against her neck when he spoke, Lyanna felt him as soon as he neared the table. If it was because spending time with the red viper had made her more sentient to his essence or because of something else, she didn't know.
"Here I was," he smiled, "calling you she-wolf when in truth you are a bookworm."
"Stalking again, prince?" She didn't raise her eyes from the book.
"Hiding," he replied, moving the chair that was next to her and sitting on it, moving his legs to rest his boots on the table. "I'm supposed to be on a meeting with my brother-in-law right now."
Lyanna finally moved her grey eyes to him, only to find him inspecting one of the books she had left on the table with a frown.
"Won't your brother be angry at you for not attending?" she asked. Oberyn and Elia's older brother was King Doran Nymeros Martell of Dorne and his little brother was supposed to act as his ambassador.
"My brother knows I love serving my country almost as much as I dislike my sister's husband," he shrugged as if it didn't matter, and reached for the book that was still between her hands, ignoring her protests. "King Brandon Stark and the fight against the monsters of winter," he read, "I'm certain you already know this story."
"So what? It's one of my favourites." She managed to take it back and resumed her reading. "I must admit that southerner miss some of the most important parts of the tale, though."
Without replying, he stood from the chair and walked away from the princess, disappearing behind piles and piles of books. She should have known better than to think he was gone for good, because he came back several minutes later, interrupting her once again and setting a book next to her. Lyanna raised an eyebrow at him when she saw the title.
"What? You do know who Nymeria was, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she nodded.
Everyone knew who the ruler of Ny Sar had been. And though the princess had been born across the Narrow Sea, in Essos, she had led her people to safety when the Valyrian Empire had attacked their homeland. Upon her arrival to Westeros, she had fought by King Mors of House Martell on the dornish wars and had ended up marrying him, becoming his queen. Eons later, the members of House Martell still had her fire running through their veins, as Oberyn had showed her the day before.
"I have a feeling you'll like this one," he smirked at her and then said something in a language that Lyanna didn't understand.
"If you are going to address me in Rhoynish I might as well start talking to you in the Old Tongue." A warning that the red viper didn't seem to mind. It looked like he was going to say something but shut his mouth when a young man approached the table, bowing low before them.
"Princess Elia is asking for you, Majesty."
Oberyn groaned in frustration and for a moment Lyanna though that the human servant who had delivered his sister's message was going to piss himself. She felt bad for the poor boy.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the backyard?" she asked, turning his attention to her again.
The dornish prince gave her a wolfish grin. "Of course, princess." And then he stood, winking at her, and walked away, the servant following closely, until he was out of her sight and she focused again on her reading.
After trying thrice, and failing, to finish the page, Lyanna set King Brandon Stark and the fight against the monsters of winter away and reached for The loves of Queen Nymeria, curiosity seizing her.
It was hard to wake up the next morning because her body complained for the early hours, and her eyes still burned from having spent a long time reading under the candlelight after dinner the previous evening. Truth was that the life of the Rhoynish Queen had turned out to be more interesting that she had previously thought, though there were parts of it –most of them concerning her lovers– that made her blush and burn. It only made her read faster, and she had already finished the book.
Lyanna managed somehow to get into her leather clothes and out of the castle, after eating some breakfast on her own, not wanting to disturb Ned. It was no surprise to find Oberyn waiting for her. It was a surprise, though, to see that he hadn't brought his spear.
"You look awful," he grinned, "did you not sleep at all?"
"I thought we were practicing," she said, ignoring his commentary, "where is your spear?"
The prince stood from where he had been sitting on the grass, the feline grin not leaving his lips, and golden flames flickered between his fingers. Lyanna watched wide eyed as the flames changed and took shape, turning into a spear of red and orange and golden, the heat of its power hitting her even if there was still a considerable distance between them. She could have sworn that even his dark eyes were glowing.
"Do you want me to fight fire with steel? I'm not that stupid, viper, I'd ruin my sword."
"I want you to put the sword away and fight me with that ice of yours."
At first she thought he was joking, but one look told her that he wasn't. She bit her lower lip, and confessed in a whispered, "I have no idea of how to do that."
So he taught her. He made his spear of fire disappear and told her how to reach inside of her power to channel it into whatever she wanted it to be. And she failed miserably. But the prince didn't laugh at her or tell her that it had been a bad idea. Instead, he told her to try again and again.
"Try to produce a ball of ice in your hand," Oberyn whispered, showing her how he did it with his own power, and she had to concentrate not to let herself get lost in the feeling of that power around her.
"I feel pathetic." Her ice was there, calling at her, begging to be released, but she knew that if she let it out she would end up freezing the clearing where they stood and the trees behind them.
Focused as she was staring at her empty palm, she didn't see him moving closer to her until he spoke, his breath caressing the skin of her neck, so close to her earlobe, and making her jump, "You are not concentrated, princess."
And her power exploded, waves of ice coming out of her and freezing the grass around them, the air turning as cold as it was on the northern mountains. The dornish prince laughed next to her, and she rolled her eyes at him, unamused and aware of the closeness between them.
"Some sleep would have helped," Oberyn noted, as snakes of fire melted the mess she had created.
"Maybe if I had been warned about what you planned to do, I would have been fully rested," Lyanna replied, already feeling drained. How long had they been there?
The viper made a face, smirking at her, "I have a feeling you were enjoying the adventures of Queen Nymeria so much that even if you had wanted to sleep you wouldn't have been able to do so."
His dark eyes seemed to glow again and the princess could have sworn that he could see inside of her very soul. Her power sparked again but she kept it quiet and hidden. "You just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?"
Oberyn was still smirking and he had the effrontery of winking at her. "Try again," he just said.
By the time they walked into the castle for lunch, Lyanna was panting, and Oberyn was ready to pick her at any time, fearing that she would fall. She was powerful, he had seen that the day at the lake, but if that power was left unchecked and untrained he feared that she would lose control and drain herself at once, which could be physically painful for her.
"So, your brothers have never learnt to use their strength for battle either?" he asked as they made their way to her solar.
"Why would they need to when they can summon a blizzard that would make any enemy retreat?" Was her reply, and, when the princess looked at him, he couldn't stop himself from putting a hair strand that had run free from her braid behind her ear.
"Fair enough," he shrugged.
"But I'd like to learn," she added. The smile on her lips was genuine, and the prince's eyes lingered on her even after she looked away. Her brown hair was a mess and her braid was almost undone, there was colour in her checks, and her essence was still around her, as if she had forgotten to hide it. It called to him somehow, and he knew he was in trouble.
Oberyn frowned when they reached the Stark siblings' solar, because there was a familiar scent around it, and it had lingered. Promising himself that he would ask Elia about why Ashara Dayne may have wanted to visit the chamber, he bid Lyanna farewell, but not before teasing her and asking her about the book he had recommended her. The truth was that he had only done it because he had wanted to see if she'd feel outraged by it. After all, there was nothing decorous or proper about the loves of the fearless and positively wicked queen of the rhoynish.
"Oh, I already finished it," the princess' smile was feral before she walked into the chamber, not giving him time to answer.
It was the thought of those bright grey eyes and that smile that haunted Oberyn all the way back to his own chambers, his magic, his power, still dancing in golden embers around him, as if it had found a match and did not want to go back to hiding.
The She-Wolf and the Red Viper met again the next morning, and before they decided to stop their training, Lyanna had managed to master her magic enough to summon a shield of ice. It had been more out of necessity and fear than actual concentration. She had had no choice but to shield herself, after all, when Oberyn had started throwing daggers of fire at her face. When the princess had snarled at him, teeth showing and eyes glowing, he had just excused his actions by saying that she had needed some encouragement, and promising he'd never harm her pretty face on purpose. Lyanna had ignored the compliment completely.
By the time she was done with lunch, her whole immortal body ached, and she decided to put the leathers away for the rest of the day, choosing to wear a grey, longed sleeved, dress with a black-and-white direwolf embroidered over the front of it, right on top of her breasts, its back side and tail going all the way to her side.
And so the princess walked out of her chambers, crossing halls and getting out of the left wing of the castle, to the main yard near the great entrance doors, knowing she'd found Maege there, and hoping to catch Ned too, though she had a feeling her brother was sneaking around again.
She walked round the stables in time to see a young man fall to the ground, pushed by three squires that were laughing at him. They kicked him and one of them even hit him with a stick once he was down.
"Hey!" she roared at them, ice burning though her veins. Only one of the squires raised his eyes to look at her, but ignored her presence as she strode toward them. Across the yard, Maege Mormont and Domeric Bolton caught her eye, and the princess was dimly aware of them, walking toward her, as she finally caught up with the bullies.
The one with the stick raised his weapon again, ready to strike the crannogman, who was still crying on the floor, telling them to stop. The stick didn't reach its mark, though. Instead, it was met by a stick made of ice that made the wood of his own weapon crack. The squire's eyes, full of anger, moved to meet a pair of cold irises that were staring down at him, as the she-wolf put herself between him, his friends, and the man that was still on the floor.
"That's my father's man you are kicking." Lyanna made the stick of ice turn in her hand, her magic swinging around her, and hit the squire on the face, making him fall backward, coughing blood.
One of his friends was quick to move toward him, helping him stand, and the other made the mistake of trying to face the princess, who hit him in the arm with bone-breaking strength. Moments later, the three of them were running away, and not far away from her, Domeric Bolton laughed.
Lyanna knelt next to the crannogman, helping him straighten up. It was easy for her to lift him from the floor on her own and she refused Maege's help.
"Don't worry," she told him, even if she wasn't sure he was listening to her, "you are safe now."
The stick that she still held on her left hand turned to mist before her eyes, and even before finding him on the crowd that had come to stare at the crannogman and his rescuer, she knew he was behind it. Lyanna could have sworn that Oberyn's eyes were aflame when they met hers, and she had to look away, feeling her knees tremble and knowing that if she didn't stop staring at the dornish prince both the crannogman and her might fall face first to the floor.
"My lady…" he whispered weakly and she hushed him.
"Save your strength."
The princess brought him to the maesters on the lower levels of the castle, urging them to take care of him. The young master that healed his wounds promised that he'd bee fine soon enough but the crannogman, now fully aware of what had happened and of those around them, had eyes only for Lyanna.
"I owe you my life, my princess." His eyes were bright with tears of gratitude, and Lyanna shook her eyes.
"You owe me nothing," she swore, but was sure that would not change his mind. "What is your name?"
He winced as the master cleaned a wound he had on her left brow. "Howland Reed, my lady."
While she had suspected for his built and accent that he was a crannogman from the Neck, she hadn't known he'd be a Reed of Greywater Watch. He looked nothing more than a commoner. Then again, appearances could be deceiving.
"No one will lay a hand on you again, Lord Reed. You have my word."
The princess sent a servant to fetch her brother, wherever he might be, and waited with the crannogman until the master was done with him. He was still thanking her and bowing to her when Ned came in. Lyanna had to ask her big brother to help her convince Howland that so many reverences where not needed, and he did, even if he smiled at the whole situation. As they escorted the young lord to their own quarters so he may get to tell them how he had ended up at Harrenhal when he had not been part of the crew, Eddard couldn't stop himself from asking Lyanna about the rumours that were already spreading through the castle and said that a princess of House Stark had summoned ice to beat up some squires. His sister's answer was a wide smile.