Going back to her room was as easy as sneaking out of it had been, and Lyanna half wondered if Ned had noticed her absence. She guessed that if he had, he'd say so, but then, she didn't really care.
Truth was she hadn't wanted to leave Oberyn's chambers, not for the world, but as the grey light of dawn crept inside the room, the Viper had convinced her to leave, even if he seemed as happy with the idea of having to part ways as she was. As much as she denied it to herself, as much as she saw the denial in his onyx irises, there was something between them, and whatever line had kept them apart until then, whatever boundaries had been, they were now forgotten and gone. Even as she slipped out of the previous night's clothes and the castle started to overflow with activity; even as she called for a servant to draw her a bath; even as she sat on the tub with warm water around her and closed her eyes, the princess could feel something tickling under her skin, shaking her very bones. And she refused to give it a name.
Ned knocked on her door as she finished tying up the laces of her sleeveless black dress and, not bothering to braid back her hair and letting it fall freely down her back and shoulders, Lyanna joined him for breakfast.
As they ate, though, the princess was awkwardly aware of his brother's grey eyes staring at her. At first, she ignored it, but once it was clear he wasn't going to stop, she took a sip of her juice and turned to face him.
"What is it?"
Eddard, to his credit, seemed taken aback for a moment, but was quick to recover, and gave her a soft smile. "I had forgotten how much of the North lives in you."
It was then that Lyanna noticed. Her power, her magic, her essence, was not contained or hidden, and instead danced around her like the dearest of companions. And she didn't remember letting it out, but she felt comfortable and whole and there was no way she was going to apologize for being who she was.
In the south, it was a dangerous thing for a woman to have power. Men were the rulers of their houses, the kings and lords in their castles, and, among the Great Houses, to have a daughter that could outmatch any of her males relatives was a threat, since daughters were used to secure alliances with other kingdoms and lords.
The North was different, maybe because it still followed the old ways, or maybe because the females of that land were not only told of their duties to the husband that they would one day marry but also trained in arms so they may be able to defend themselves against bandits and invaders. Maege Mormont was the best example of it. Lyanna had never been just a girl from the North, of course, not when her father was the King of Winter. She had known from a very young age that Rickard Stark would one day use her to secure an alliance, just like she had known that her brothers would gladly turn her betrothed to mist before allowing her to marry someone she hadn't approved of. And yet, her father had never restrained her or locked her up in their castle as she knew some lords had advised him to do, and she would be forever be grateful for that.
So she had agreed to meet with Robert because Eddard had promised there was no better choice. But now she had been given a choice, and it wasn't marrying Oberyn Martell, for she was certain there was no way the Red Viper of Dorne would ever agree to marriage, and she was sure they'd end up killing each other at some point. No, it was choosing herself, and being herself and living for herself.
Before she could manage a reply, though, Ned added, as if he'd been reading her thoughts, "I stand by you, little sister."
"Even if I start a war by telling your friend to go–"
"Even then," he interrupted her, making a face that showed her he knew the obscenities that were about to come out of her mouth. "But, please, don't."
"Why?" she asked, and smiles even though she knew the answer. "You are stronger than most of them, are you not? Stronger than Robert, at least, even if I have a feeling he doesn't know that."
There was a sharp wit hidden inside Ned's grey eyes and the shadow of a grin in his lips. For a moment, he remained silent, thoughtful, and it reminded the princess of their father. He had claimed their homeland lived in her, but Lyanna could see it in him too.
"People are more comfortable when they believe they have the upper hand in every situation," Eddard finally answered. "Robert, for example…I love him, you know that, I care for him as if he was my brother, but he is hot-tempered and stubborn, and feels threatened by everything and everyone that seems a threat." He shrugged, "Besides, it is easier to act as father's ambassador if the other Kings and their heirs see me as nothing but a spineless errand boy."
Lyanna was surprised, because she hadn't known. Then again, it made sense for Ned to want to be seen as nothing but a pawn, since he had spent his life being Brandon's shadow. Listening and learning. Their eldest brother had been born to rule over the North and command its armies while Eddard was shaped to be his right hand, counsellor, confidant, and protector.
"And who are you," she started, "to Ashara?"
Without hesitation, he said, "Myself."
His sister gave him the brightest of smiles.
Lyanna went to take a walk around the palace grounds after breakfast, and pretended to be surprised when Ashara Dayne joined her. She suspected, after all, that their meeting when the lady had helped her find the castle's library hadn't been a coincidence, and the dornish woman had been looking for her. And she was flattered and happy to know that Ashara loved Ned enough to want to be her friend.
The truth was that she was nice, funny, and bright, and there was no doubt in Lyanna's mind as to why Ned was in love with her. It was so easy to be her friend, the princess thought, she could only imagine how easy it'd be to love her.
To Lyanna's surprise, though, Eddard was the last thing Ashara wanted to tell her about. Instead, she told her of her passions. They talked about clothes and jewellery and had an agitated discussion about horses. Lyanna said northerner stallions where the best mounts, while Ashara all but roared nothing could match a sand steed. In the end they were both laughing until their stomachs hurt.
They talked about books too, and the Princess of Winter promised Ashara she would make sure Ned gifted her some of their favourite books, because she was sure she would enjoy them.
It was not until they were walking back into the main courtyard that Lyanna noticed something. There was a tone in Ashara's words now as she spoke of Dorne…
"I think you'd like it," she smiled at her, purple eyes shining bright under the morning sun.
Lyanna grinned back. "You are starting to sound like someone I know, my lady."
Ashara looked down at the lilac sleeves of her dress, a curtain of hair hiding the sly smirk on her lips. "Was I that obvious?" she asked, looking away. "I won't insult your intelligence by denying what you already know, princess."
"Did he ask you to talk to me?" Lyanna asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. If he had asked, she would have felt angry that he would not talk about going to Dorne directly with her, but maybe another part of her would feel happy that he would talk about her to those he trusted.
"No," Ashara shook her head. "No, it was my idea. Oberyn would never do that."
"And why would you think I'd wish to go to Dorne with him?"
There was cunning in those violet eyes and unspoken danger, Lyanna could see it now, but somehow knew that Ashara Dayne was not working against her but for her even before the older lady spoke. Still, when she did, her words surprised the princess.
"I think you wish freedom over everything else." Ashara shrugged. "Forgive me. I know we barely know each other but your brother speaks of you all the time and it feels as if I'd known you for all my years. Certainly feels as if I'd known him that long." She laughed and then shook her head, as if she were trying to get a hold of her emotions. "Besides," she nodded at her, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a crocked smirk, "I know desire when I see it."
Lyanna's eyes wandered away from Ashara's when she felt a now familiar warmth brushing against her, even if she was certain he wasn't close. And her gaze found Obaryn across the yard, guiding his horse back into the stables. He didn't look in their direction, but the princess was certain he had felt her too.
Without taking her eyes from the now empty space where Oberyn had just been, Lyanna asked Ashara, "And what do I desire?"
"Freedom and respect, I'd say."
The princess had a feeling there was a certain someone the lady of Starfall would like to add to that list but didn't. She noticed then that Ashara was right…but also wrong. Because Lyanna didn't want freedom nor respect and she wouldn't ask for them. No, she'd demand them of those who would take them away from her. Because they were hers since she was born.
"Dorne would give me that?" she dared ask.
"I could be a start."
There was such sincerity in every one of the lady's statements that Lyanna realised she truly wished to help her and be a friend for her. A sister, a voice whispered on the back of the princess' mind, a sister-in-law, not a friend. She nodded at Ashara Dayne.
"I can see how it was so easy for Ned to fall in love with you."
"I can't"," she answered, surprising Lyanna, and then gave her a bright smile. "But I'm so lucky he did."
She left her then and the princess watched her go, lilac skirts flowing around her slim figure and hair unbowed, and wondered how someone so terribly beautiful and with such a sweet nature could believe she was not one to be loved. And she was so focused on Ashara that she didn't hear or feel Oberyn approaching until her was a breath away from her.
"She-wolf," he purred, his breath caressing her earlobe and making her shiver. She could feel his chest against her back.
"Viper," she replied, holding back a smile and turning around to stare at him, making sure to put some distance between them, because they were too close and in public and she wasn't sure she wouldn't just kiss him there and then, the memories of the previous night still fresh in her mind and a pleasurable ache between her legs reminding her that it had not been a dream.
He was wearing a yellow tunic, the colour bright and striking against his dark skin as much as her black dress with her own alabaster skin, and there were golden necklaces around his neck. His grin made Lyanna shiver from head to toe. Who is the stalker now?
"I must admit feeling you staring at me like that surprised me. It was rather possessive of you, princess."
So he had felt her. His smile was feral now and Lyanna half feared he would pounce for her in front of everyone. Granted, there were nothing but squires and servants around and several lordings that were too unimportant to matter to them, but still, being out there in the open and so close to the Red Viper of Dorne could turn her into the only thing the courts talked about for, at least, the following year.
"Is that what you tell yourself, prince, that I want to posses you?"
That smile of hers…Oberyn had woken up yearning for it and dreading that feeling, because he knew that it would lead him nowhere good. Neither of them had slept that night, and when she'd finally left his chambers the prince had not managed to let sleep claim him.
Elia had been the first one to notice his mood, of course, and had asked him about it as they broke their fast with Ashara Dayne. The Viper was smart enough to doge her question but the knowing glint in his sister's best friend's eyes made him uneasy. It hadn't been until Ashara had told them of her relationship with Ned Stark that he had understood.
"It is a pity," Elia had said, half joking, "that the North would steal you from us."
He hadn't dared made a comment, knowing that was exactly what the lady of Starfall expected. And he didn't dare ask Ashara what she knew about him and the she-wolf because he wasn't in the mood to have that kind of conversation with her.
Oberyn smirked back at Lyanna, sending a pulse of magic up her bare arms, knowing the warmth of it would be a welcomed alternative to the chill of that spring morning. What he didn't expect was for the princess to close her eyes and move, ever so slightly, closer to him.
"You already did, I believe. Several times. In many," He leaned towards her, feeling her breath against his skin, "different positions."
As he had expected, blush crept to her cheeks, but her grey eyes were defiant when they met his dark ones.
"You really are as perverted as people say, my lord."
She turned around at once, and he followed. They walked side by side across the courtyard, to the now empty stables and Oberyn wasn't sure what exactly was that Lyanna's coy smile promised.
"I heard Eddard and Ashara are already planning a trip for her to go meet your father," the prince commented.
Lyanna turned to him now that they were away from prying eyes and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. "Yes, my brother is rather excited." And then she added, "Why, Viper, would you like to meet my father too?"
No, he didn't, and they both knew it. Lyanna just laughed, "That's what I thought."
Her fingers were playing with the golden necklaces around his neck, lightly brushing the skin beneath them, and the prince of Dorne moved his hands to her hips, pressing their bodies together. There was a question dancing on Lyanna's eyes as she looked up at him, as there had been the previous night when she had walked into his chambers, almost as if she thought he would refuse her. As if she feared it even after seeing how much he wanted her.
Oberyn brushed his lips against hers as an answer, opening his mouth to her even so slightly, already feeling freeze covering her fingertips as they touched the skin of his chest. As if that had been the only answer she needed, Lyanna captured his mouth in a feral kiss, making him wonder yet again if she wasn't actually a wolf pretending to be a woman.
His skin burned where she touched him. Burned as if the prince himself hadn't been born of flames and embers and fire. And yet her hands were so cold as she moved one of them to the back of his neck, to bring him even closer, and the other under the fabric of his tunic to touch his skin.
"Lyanna," the red viper groaned against the skin of her neck, placing a trail of kisses along her jaw. He stopped at once when he felt her hand moving from his belly to the hem of his pants. "Stop," Oberyn warned as she tried to reach in them to touch him.
She did at once. "Are we doing this again?" she asked, and he knew she meant his reaction the previous day.
Oberyn laughed through his teeth. "Oh, no, she-wolf. I want you." He gave her a quick kiss and almost became undone when she moaned in his mouth. "But if you touch me like that here, princess, I'll set the whole fucking place on fire."
The hand that was still on the back of his neck seemed to claw at him and he could actually feel Lyanna aching at his words. Still, she managed to keep her voice steady as she said, "Would that be so bad?"
"Maybe not. And as enjoyable as seeing you squirm would be right now, we should take this somewhere else before someone comes in here and catches us doing such inappropriate things."
Lyanna's hands moved away from his skin then, and for once in his long life Oberyn Nymeros Martell regretted his words. Not moving his hands from her hips, he said, "I just meant..."
"I know what you mean, my lord." She frowned. "Shall we go inside then?"
The viper nodded, knowing he had overreacted. A part of him didn't understand where that sudden fear had come from. But she was still frowning.
Lyanna knew she should have gone back to her solar already, knew that she had missed lunch with Ned and knew that being tangled in bed with the Red Viper of Dorne was not what she was supposed to be doing. But, may the Old Gods have mercy on her; it was what she wanted to do.
The princess' head was resting against Oberyn's chest, his breath brushing her hair and their legs a tangles mess beneath the sheets, and he had an arm curled around her, his hand pressed to her back to keep her close to him. There was a sense of tranquillity to it that Lyanna couldn't help enjoying.
There was still hunger and fire and wanting shinning bright in the prince's eyes when Lyanna looked up at him, and she couldn't stop remembering the sounds he had made, how he had moaned and groaned her name as she knelt before him like he had knelt before her the night before. She had feared for a moment that the room would burn, but the prince had known better than to let his magic explode.
She kissed one of the scars on his chest and then sat on the bed, pushing her hair away from her face. Aware of his fingers lazily drawing patterns on the skin of her back, Lyanna brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them.
I think you wish freedom over everything else.
"Oberyn," she managed.
His hand froze on her back and even if she could not see him, the prince frowned at her. "You sound uncharacteristically serious, princess."
Oberyn sat too and kisses her bare shoulder, moving his hand to embrace her from behind. He had not missed the way his name had sounded on her lips, as if she was afraid of voicing her thoughts to him. It hurt him more than he would care to admit.
"Lyanna," His voice was but a whisper against her skin. "What is it?"
It took her a moment to answer, and when she did she didn't turn to look at him. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to leave?"
He was quick to say, "I'd ask if you need help or any kind of supplies."
The prince felt the tension leave her body. Had she expected him to tell her it was madness? To tell her that she should stay and do as her family asked of her? Surely she knew that he of all people was in no position to do that.
"What if I needed a friend?" She half turned in his embrace to be able to look at him, grey eyes strong and hard as steel.
The viper let the warmth of his gift envelope them both as he smiled at her and caressed her cheek. "Well, then I will do my best to find you one, princess."
Lyanna's shock was apparent before she noticed he was joking and he couldn't stop laughing, even when she not so angrily pushed him and made him fall back on the bed.
Oberyn laughed and looked up at her as she straddled him again, arm locked behind his head, aware of every breath of light between them. She still smiled, but it was obvious she was lost in thought as she sat on him but didn't seem to see him at all. After a moment, she said:
"I haven't really given it much thought. I just…" As she found the words, the prince moved his free hand to place a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and then took her hand in his, drawing patterns on the skin of her palm. "Ned wouldn't care, not as long as I'm happy and I know that Ben and Bran wouldn't either, even if Bran would probably through a fuss because I didn't let him come. But my father…"
"None of them are you, she-wolf. Think about what you want, and go take it." That was what he had always done, and it had sometimes got him into trouble, but he'd never regretted any of it.
Lyanna raised an eyebrow at him, the shadow of a smirk on her lips, and the prince could only imagine what she was thinking. He grinned in return.
Her hand broke free of his hold and she trailed a finger down his torso, making the prince groan at the sensation of her frozen fingers. Oberyn was sure there was frost in them when he caught her hand again and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them.
"You have no idea how many things I want to do to you."
Lyanna feigned confusion and pouted. "What's stopping you from showing me?"
The prince placed both of his hands on her hips now, grinding up his hips so she could feel him. He laughed humorously.
"That wicked mouth of yours." Oberyn moved up to kiss her deeply, keeping their bodies close. "How about you show me what you can do with it?"
She did.
A wild, merciless wind arose that afternoon, tearing tents off the ground, and making banners fly up to the skies. It was certainly not the warmth they had been expecting from a springtime evening, but the courtiers didn't seem to want to let that ruin their day and Lyanna found herself escorting her brother to dinner in the Great Hall of the massive castle.
They wore matching outfits (it had been Ned's idea), with Lyanna wearing a heavy dark grey gown with long sleeves of myrish lace, and him wearing a white shirt and a leather jacket of the same colour of her dress with the wolf of their house embroidered on the back.
And even though she was the one accompanying him, Ashara joined them as soon as they arrived; claiming a seat at Ned's left –with Lyanna at his right− as they dined. The princess of winter couldn't stop noticing that while the dornish lady's dress was a pale lilac that matched her eyes, the silver earrings, cuffs, and hair-piece she wore were a nod to the grey and white of the Stark banner.
Most of the eyes on the room were on Eddard and Ashara during the dinner, and afterwards when music started playing and the nobles joined each other to dance, but they didn't seem to care, too focused on each other to even see them or notice them.
And Lyanna stared at them too, unable to hold back a smile. Yes, it would be easy to call Ashara Dayne her sister and it would be even easier to leave Ned knowing that she would be at his side, loving him as the glimmer in her violet eyes told the princess she did.
The princess couldn't stop laughing when the lady convinced Eddard to dance with her, because she knew how much her brother hated it. Not because he didn't know how to, because he certainly was quite a good dancer, but because he hated the attention it brought upon him. And yet there he went, to dance and laugh and spin with his beloved.
His sister was left to watch them while enjoying the feast and the wine, and if she hadn't been so absorbed in her own thoughts maybe she would have heard someone approaching her. Then again, if she hadn't got so get used to Oberyn's essence, maybe his sister wouldn't have been able to sneak up on her.
"They make a beautiful couple," she said, a smile on her lips as she sat on the seat Ned had vacated minutes before. The eyes she shared with her brother were kind when they met Lyanna's grey ones.
"Yes, they do," the princess of winter nodded, knowing that wasn't why Elia Nymeros Martell had come to talk to her.
She didn't give the golden princess the pleasure of asking, though, knowing exactly what kind of game they were playing. And after a few moments, Elia smirked at her.
"It had been a while, you know, since I last saw my brother's eyes shine like the do when he looks at you." She reached to pour herself a glass of wine. "I thought at first that it was the challenge of finding someone that reminded him so much of himself that moved him. I understood it meant nothing but trouble."
Lyanna frowned, turning her attention fully to her.
In that room, with the fire from the candles reflecting on her jewels and the golden circlet she had on top of her head, Elia Martell looked like the queen Lyanna knew she would one day be.
"I don't believe I understand."
The princess of Dorne smiled. "I meant no offense. It was a compliment, truly. Oberyn needs someone that looks him eye to eye and tells him he's an arrogant and stubborn oaf of a man with no impulse control."
The Stark princess almost choked on her drink, laughing without wanting to. Hiding a smile by taking a sip of her own drink, Elia kept on talking, telling Lyanna about her children and her love for sand steeds. After a while, Lyanna found that she would love to call her sister, too. She tried her best not to think about what that meant.
But then she found Oberyn staring her from across the room, eyes narrowed as if to ask what in the seven hells was she talking to his sister about, and she answered with a crooked smile. Apologizing to Elia –even if the princess' knowing look was enough to let Lyanna know she understood were she was gooing−, she waltzed across the room to were Oberyn stood.
"You are not plotting my demise, I hope," the prince said.
"Now, why would we do that?" was her answer.
His eyes were monitoring the room, and she didn't have to turn to understand her not-so-much-of-a-fiancée was staring at them. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes.
"Oberyn," Lyanna called softly, making his attention snap back to her.
"Princess," he nodded at her.
"We are leaving tonight."
It was half a question and half a command and she waited for him to say that he wasn't leaving with her. That, despite their friendship, despite their…closeness, he was not leaving his world for her, not going to travel the world with her, not going to risk the trouble it would be to run away with the only daughter of one of the most power kings of Westeros.
But he nodded and leaned ever so slightly toward her, "No need to pack. Come to my chambers when you are ready."
Lyanna had to do her best not to smile.
She didn't say goodbye to Ned, because if she did, she would have to explain, and she would have to bear listening to his sad farewells. So she chose to let him sleep, to let him enjoy his happiness, and wrote a letter for him to find the next morning. It was short and she knew Brandon and father would argue with him for it. But she also knew Ned would understand.
I'm going on an adventure, don't you dare marry before I come back.
She hoped it'd make him laugh, because she'd rather have him laughing that crying for her departure.
She'd put on her leathers, braided her hair back, seethed her daggers and put her sword on her belt, its weight a familiar one as she walked through the castle. Quiet as a shadow. As quick as a snake.
Oberyn kissed her forehead when she arrived. He had his spear with him but Lyanna didn't dare talk to ask him how he expected them to survive without any kind of currency. It felt like breaking the quiet of the night would get them caught. So she said nothing, asked nothing, and held his hand tight as they slipped out of the castle like thieves in the night.
Their horses were seated and ready outside the castle grounds and only when they reached them did Oberyn turn to her, thumb stroking her cheek and dark eyes looking ablaze even in the darkness of the night.
"We can still go back."
Taking a deep breath, the princess of winter shook her head, "We won't."
Lyanna had asked him for this, for the rush, the freedom, tired of all the rules, the walls, and the polite but fake smiles around them. Wanting more of the world, of her immortal life. Of him. And now that he would give it, she was determined to take it, for as long as it lasted.
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, hands holding onto his shoulders to bring him to her, and Oberyn answered in kind. The viper smiled and nodded at her when they pulled away. If it was in agreement or as a vow, she did not know. But, as they mounted their horses and rode away, she decided she was determined to find out.
She was Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, heir of King Rickard Stark, the blood of the First Men, and a daughter of the North. She was the heir of ice and snow and, whatever challenges awaited her, she would not be afraid.