Of White Trees and Blue Roses

I own nothing. This all belongs to GRRM, and I'm just playing with the story he gave us.

~X~

Chapter Six – Secrets and Ill-Gotten Gains

Whispering and giggling, Lyanna and Benjen found a quiet corner of Harrenhal's two acre godswood, Lyanna leading a horse and Ben carrying clanking sacks of armour.

Satisfied that they were not likely to be discovered as almost everyone else was in the Hall of the Hundred Hearths waiting to eat, drink, and be merry, they sat themselves on the ground and looked through what they'd managed to buy in exchange for Benjen's wolf.

Picking up a dark grey gauntlet and a plain but rusty helm that covered the entire face, with only a narrow slit to see out of and a few holes to breathe through, Lyanna shook her head.

"I'd be surprised if we have two pieces that match in the entire suit. You're going to look like the sorriest excuse for a hedge knight anyone has ever seen."

"Well, I couldn't walk up to an armourer and ask for a full suit of plate armour in my size, could I? Whoever it was would recognise me immediately once I unhorsed Prince Rhaegar, and then Father would find out. Besides, we didn't have enough coin for that."

Lyanna rolled her eyes at her brother's overconfidence.

"So instead you have all the unwanted bits and pieces that would have been thrown away or melted down. At least you got a decent horse and a decent shield." Lyanna pulled the shield out of the bag and looked at it. The paint was scratched and it was dented, but it was good and solid yet still light. "You're going to need to paint it, or are you planning to pass yourself off as a poor cousin of the Fossoways?"

Benjen put down a greave and looked at the shield with Lyanna. "I need lances, too. How am I going to smuggle them here. It's not like I can hide one under my jerkin."

Lyanna thought for a second. "We can't do anything now—we need to go join the others or we'll be missed." She picked up a sack, pulled hard and tore it, handing it to Ben. "Get up early in the morning, wrap this around you, and act like a poor squire. Brandon brought more lances than he could ever possibly need."

Tipping out a sack of hay for his horse, Ben nodded, but then looked puzzled. "But Brandon will recognise his lances."

"Then I'll paint them, too, when I do the shield." Lyanna got to her feet. "But come on. If we're missing for much longer, they'll think we're up to no good."

~X~

Brandon was already drunk when Ben and Lyanna rushed in and seated themselves on a bench by Ned and Robert Baratheon. Their father gave them a stern look but didn't break off his conversation with Lord Arryn.

Robert instantly looked uncomfortable and where he had been laughing and sharing bawdy jokes minutes earlier, he fell silent. Earlier he'd nudged Ned when a young woman walked into the great hall, and his younger brother had gone a bright shade of beet red.

So Ned did like girls after all, Brandon thought—that was reassuring, though he might have picked someone more achieveable. Ashara Dayne—he'd seen her once or twice at a distance, she was one of Princess Elia's companions, and it seemed that half of Westeros was in love with her.

Brandon took a long deep drink and looked at her. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. With so many potential suitors, would she really look twice at his younger brother?

She looked up, laughed at something someone said, and then her eyes met Brandon's. Their gazes locked, Brandon smirked and Ashara smiled back.

~X~

Giving the excuse of being tired, Lyanna left the hall. Her betrothed had barely said two words to her, but she knew that as soon as he was gone, he would be more talkative.

He'd find his tongue in time, she consoled herself. As far as husbands went, he had a pleasing face and physique, he was Lord of Storm's End so it was a good match, and he had a reputation for being an able fighter...amongst other things, particularly his fondness for women.

Truth be told, Lyanna didn't want to be married. She wanted to stay at home with her brothers and carry with life as she always had. At Storm's End there would be no laughing, joking Brandon, and no Ben to sneak away and joust with. Chances were that Ned would have returned North so he wouldn't even be close in the Eeyrie, though as a friend to her future husband, he was likely to visit often.

Walking across the yard, Lyanna noticed how quiet it was, and slipped out into the camps, listening to the sound of numerous singers' voices, and laughter. Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she made her way though the tents to where she'd seen a woman painting earlier. A number of men heckled her, mistaking her for a whore but she quickly walked by, paying them little notice.

The woman was sitting roasting a scrawny bird over a campfire when she arrived, and she happily agreed to hand over some blue, white and red paint in return for a few coins. As she headed back to her room, the paint under her cloak, she took a wrong turn in Harrenhal and came across a knight and a young lady pressed closely together in a corner.

Lyanna froze—other than the fact one was male and one was female they looked alike, golden haired and green eyed, and dressed richly in red and gold.

"Jamie and Cersei Lannister."

The twins from Casterly Rock pushed themselves apart and did their best to look innocent, but Lyanna wasn't fooled. They hadn't been embracing like brothers and sisters should, and Lyanna felt more than a little sick.

"You didn't see anything here," Cersei said, her eyes wide and frightened, but her tone was threatening. Her brother put his hand on the hilt of the sword he was wearing.

After an awkward pause, Lyanna spoke quietly and slowly. "I could forget what I saw...if you would do something for me in return." This chance encounter could work out quite well.

The twins looked between each other, but this time it was Jamie that responded, "And what would that be?"

Smiling, Lyanna stepped closer to the two of them. "You're a knight, Lannister. I need you to vouch for a friend of mine who wants to enter the lists. A mystery knight."

"If he was really a knight, then I'm sure he'd have no trouble entering. If he hadn't earned the title of Ser, then it's only right that he shouldn't be allowed. We don't allow just anyone to joust."

"Who he is and why he needs you to vouch for him is none of your concern. However, what you were doing..."

Cersei stepped between the unfamiliar girl and her brother. "He'll vouch for your friend."

"Why, thank you. I bid you goodnight, and have a...pleasant evening." Lyanna grinned, curtsied and walked away.

~X~

In the morning, Lyanna had already painted the shield blue and was pondering what sigil to use for Ben's mystery knight, when her brother came walking over, a collection of Brandon's black, white and grey lances in hand.

As she watched him approach, she caught sight of the heart tree behind him—quite possibly the ugliest heart tree she'd ever seen. She thought and then dipped her brush in the white paint.

"What are you painting," Ben asked, placing the lances carefully on the floor.

Concentrating, Lyanna brushed a strand of her away from her face. "A heart tree—we're here in the godswood, and we keep the old gods at Winterfell. It's as personal as I can get without putting a direwolf on there."

Nodding, Ben agreed with her idea, but added, "Don't give it a face like that one." He pointed over to the heart tree. "It gives me the creeps. It looks like it hates me."

Lyanna wiped the white from her brush and dipped it into the red, painting two red eyes and an exaggerated smile.

"That's perfect." Ben said, messing her hair.

"It needs time to dry. Let's use the time to decide who you should challenge. I found someone who'll vouch for you for when you enter tomorrow."

"Who?" Ben asked, and when his sister explained, he questioned her all the way to the Brandon's tent for the tourney as to how she'd managed to convince him to do that. Her lips were sealed.