Lyanna

"I loathe needlework," Lyanna said angrily, "I loathe dressmaking, I loathe stitching, I loathe being a lady." Old Nan just smiled at her and nodded for her to continue. It had been three days since the feast and she had been trapped in her chambers with Old Nan for almost the entirety of them, only being allowed out for meals. She tended to eat her meals at the end of the tables with Benjen though, staying as far away from Robert as possible. Lord Rickard had chastised her harshly after her drunken spectacle, going so far as to ban her from her horse and to force her to spend all of her time practicing her needlework.

"You are a Lady of House Stark, and if you refuse to act like it in public, then you will learn how to act like it in private. One more incident and I shall send you to Storm's End in a fortnight, instead of two years, mark my words. You can be Robert's responsibility. I will not have my only daughter run around like a stable boy during the day and a tavern wench at night."

He was so focused on me he did not even see Brandon sneak out with Lady Barbrey early in the feast.

His threats had done well to silence her complaints though. The thought of going to Storm's End in a fortnight terrified her greatly and she had done her best to be a perfect lady in front of her father. Her ruse was clearly not working well enough as she had been locked in her room for what felt like months. The only positive was not having to spend forced time with her betrothed. Her father had mentioned that Robert was the one to escort her to her chambers. She had awoken only in her smallclothes with her dress laid neatly on a table near her bed. It terrified her that Robert had seen her so bare while she was unawares. The worst part was not being able to spend any time with Ned. She sat there brooding for what seemed like hours until there was a knock at her door. She looked up and Lord Rickard stepped in the room. He nodded at Old Nan and she stood up to take her leave.

"Better," she said, looking at Lyanna's needlework, "you seem to be improving." Lyanna smiled gratefully at her, hoping her father would see she was trying. Old Nan left the room, closing the door behind her and Lord Rickard sat on her bed.

"Lya," he said softly, abandoning the stern persona he had kept since the feast, "sit with me. We need to talk. I apologize for the things I said after the feast. Things have been tough on you, but they have been tough on me as well."

"I don't understand why I have to marry him. If you don't want me to be a drunk why marry me to one?"

"You may not understand yet, but one day you will. All you need to know is that marrying Robert is in everyone's best interest, including your own. Marrying Catelyn Tully is in Brandon's best interest, and everyone else in this family and theirs. Things are more complicated than they seem. I know it's difficult to comprehend but these decisions are not made lightly. With everything else, I had hoped that marrying Ned's best friend would be a small comfort. I truly wish I had been right," he said sadly. In that moment, Lord Rickard looked much older than his years and Lyanna felt for him. "I know you do not love him, but you do not know him. If we are to believe all the stories were are told about people then we would not like anyone. If all of Old Nan's stories were true, our world would be filled with ghouls and giants and White Walkers. You need to learn things for yourself or your world will be as unbelievable and frightening as Old Nan's stories. Give him a chance Lya. I hope you'll forgive me and one day see I'm only doing what I think is right. You are my only daughter and I love you." Lyanna gave him a soft smile and put her head on his chest.

"Does this mean I can ride again?" she asked hopefully. Her father laughed.

"Only if it means you'll take him with you, at least once. But you aren't doing anyone good locked up here, I think it's time you went out and spent time with our guests."

"Father… I really have to marry him don't I?" she said, losing all her will to argue. His eyes darkened slightly.

"You will marry him. I won't hear another word about it. Enjoy your time here while you have it," he said, getting up to leave. "Do as you will, ignore him while he is here. But the marriage is happening and if you choose to make it harder on yourself then so be it. I love you Lyanna but I cannot force you to be happy." And with that, he left the room leaving her alone on her bed.

She quickly got up and threw off her gown in favor of a tunic and breeches. Within minutes, she was at the stable, mounting her white mare. She rode for around the grounds for a long time, trying not to think. But soon her thoughts overtook her. She thought of the South, full of people and customs she did not know. She did not even keep the same gods. He may make her marry in a sept instead of in front of a heart tree. She thought of Brandon, stuck in a life of boredom with a girl who could not satisfy his wild spirit. She thought of Ned, too thoughtful to be a knight, but a second born son, not like to inherit much. She thought of leaving Benjen, her little brother who needed her. She thought of Robert, staring at women with large teats and filling Storms End with bastards. She thought of being forced to bear his children, boys and girls with black hair and blue eyes, who would grow up not knowing Winterfell or the Northern ways. It was then she realized she was crying. She dismounted and sat on the ground, overcome with grief for her childhood and family. She was not sure how long she sat there before she was covered by a shadow. She looked up, and there was Robert, sitting over her on a large, chestnut colored stallion. When he saw the tears on her face he dismounted quickly. She tried to cover it but to no avail; he had clearly seen her grief.

"My lady, are you alright? Are you hurt? Seven hells, Lyanna, what is wrong?"

"My Lord, it is no burden of yours, although I think you for the concern."

"Lyanna," he started slowly, unsure of what to say, "If your sadness is because of me I will do whatever I can to fix it. If you truly will be unhappy with me, I will speak to Jon Arryn at once about ending our betrothal." She looked up at him confused.

"I thought you wanted the marriage," she said, completely incredulous by this new turn of events. She might be able to escape whatever hell this betrothal was by way of none other than her intended. Her father would hate her but he would forgive her, he always did.

"I do, My Lady, I do more than I have ever wanted anything. But who wants to be married to the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms if that woman looks at him with revulsion?" It felt like a slap in the face. She looked at Robert, who looked so kind and sad and felt revulsion, not at him but at herself. She had not realized how cruel she had been. "Lyanna, I will do anything to make you happy. If we are married I will love you with all my heart and I will do my best to forsake wine and whores. But if you are going to look at me with anger and hatred, then every cask of wine from Dorne to Winterfell and every whore in Westeros will not make me happy in our marriage."

"My Lord, my behavior has been most unbecoming. I apologize and I hope that I can assure you of my intent to make our betrothal and marriage a happy one," she said, hoping that was good enough for now. It seemed to work as he smiled widely reaching out his hand to help her up.

"I shall make a good husband, I swear it by the old gods and the new. But I must insist that you call me Robert."

"Very well Robert. Would you be so kind as to escort me back to the castle?"

"I hear you ride very well," he said with intrigue, "In fact, I saw you ride from a distance as we approached Winterfell."

"Aye, better than any man or woman in the North. Tell me, how many races have you lost whilst riding?" she asked, hoping he would consider her challenge. He grinned at her.

"Once, when I was two and ten, but never to a girl."

"Well, I hope that I might be able to change that," she said, thinking that maybe her marriage might be bearable after all.