Her father looked older. And annoyed. His delight at her news did not last long, the corner of his mouth curdled when he caught sight of Lord Tywin and his daughter. "His offer was rebuffed," Benjen had written to Lyanna. "And not in a very kind way."
Lyanna was not surprised. What was her father thinking? Ned, dear, sweet, gentle Ned, one of the best men Lyanna ever knew, but for all that, he was still only a second son. He would not be Lord Stark of Winterfell. He would not be inheriting any castle. The proud Lord Tywin would not be content with that for his one and only daughter.
"Now it's the daughter of one of father's bannermen for Ned. To ease the discontent among them for marrying off both you and Brandon to southerners," Benjen had continued in his letter. "It will be my turn next. Maybe I'll join the Night's Watch instead."
"Don't do anything rash," she had written him back.
Like I almost did, she had thought, but not written.
At least you have other options, she had also thought, but not written to her brother. At least men had other options. The Night's Watch, the Kingsguard, training to be a maester, all considered honorable paths for sons of noblemen not inclined to wed according to their fathers' wishes. Or not inclined to wed at all.
He loves his children, Lyanna thought, as her father's attention turned towards her again, asking her questions about the maester at Storm's End. He is not a bad man. He is not doing anything all the other lords in the kingdom are not doing as well.
It was just the way things were.
"Perhaps I should send our own maester to Storm's End, once your delivery day is near. He's known you all your life, it would be safer."
She glanced at her husband to see his reaction to that, but his face was the way it had been since they arrived at King's Landing. A cipher.
"There is no need, Father. Truly. Maester Cressen is very skilled. He has been delivering babies for years. He delivered Lord Steffon himself, Stannis' father."
"I wish you're not so far away from us. I worry," her father said, touching her right hand.
Perhaps you should have married me off to someone living closer to Winterfell then, a bitter voice replied in her head. She drove the nails of her fingers into her left palm to silence the voice, and smiled for her father.
"I know. But we'll send a raven immediately. And you can come to see the baby. And to see Storm's End. You've never seen it."
"Why not come now, Lord Stark? Before you go back to Winterfell. It is not that far from here," her husband suddenly spoke. It surprised her. They had not discussed this.
"What's the matter, Stannis? You don't want us coming to Storm's End once the baby is born?" Brandon was jesting, she knew. But she also knew her husband would not take it as a jest. He was already frowning.
"Don't be silly, Brandon. You can come whenever you want. Only, since you are all here at King's Landing now, it's easier to make the journey." She glared pointedly at her brother, who laughed and said, "It's only a jest, Lya. You've grown so serious now, so prim and proper. Marriage has changed you."
And marriage didn't seem to have changed Brandon at all, Lyanna thought, as she spotted Brandon smiling too brightly at a succession of women throughout the day.
"Brandon is not still up to his old ways, is he?" She asked Ned later, when they finally had a chance to speak alone, just the two of them.
"Old ways?"
"Oh Ned, you know what I mean."
"He loves his wife," Ned insisted.
"Remember what I said about Robert, when we were betrothed? Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature."
"He would have loved you. He would have tried to … to be better, for you."
"You still miss him, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Is that why you've been staying at the Vale?" Her father had not been pleased, Benjen had reported in one of his letters.
"Jon misses Robert too. And if I could be of some solace to him … And Winterfell, well, Winterfell feels like Brandon's home now. Now that he's brought his bride home."
"Father is still Lord of Winterfell. It is still your home, Ned."
"Is it?" His smile was wry and sad at the same time.
She thought of Robert growing up away, and apart, from his own brothers. My children will never be fostered away from home and hearth and family, she promised herself. I will have my way in that, if nothing else.
"What about you, Lya?" Ned asked.
"What about me?"
"Are you … happy?"
"I am to be a mother. I have to be happy."
"Have to?"
"For the sake of this baby."
"Not for your own sake?"
"You ask too many questions, dearest Ned."
"Does he … does he love you? Your husband."
She pondered the question for a long while. "I don't know. But I do not know if I love him either. Perhaps that is for the best. It is worse for a marriage if the love is only from one side."
"Why can't it be from both?"
Her dearest brother, older than her, but more naïve in some ways.
"What is love anyway, Ned? I care for my husband, and he cares for me. We are … kind to each other, or at least we try to be. That is enough, I should think."
"Is it enough for you, Lya? Truly?"
"It has to be," she insisted, whether to convince herself or to convince Ned, she was not certain.
"Why did you ask them to come to Storm's End now?" She asked her husband that night.
He looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I should have discussed it with you first. Having so many guests when you are already under so much pressure. I thought it makes sense for them to come, since they are so close to Storm's End."
"It's fine. They're not guests, they're my family." What did he mean by 'under so much pressure'?
But they would be guests to her husband. She wondered if it would make him uncomfortable, having them at Storm's End. Of course it would, she realized. He was already clenching and unclenching his jaw, as if in anticipation of a painful ordeal. She would be woken up later in the night by the sound of his teeth grinding, she was certain.
Her family thought him odd, she knew. So different from Robert with his friendly, back-slapping ways. "Unfriendly," Benjen had said. "A prig, a very unpleasant prig," Brandon had said. "Why does he always look like the sky has fallen down?" Her father had asked, but only after the wedding, only after the alliance had been secured. Ned was the only one who had not said anything either way.
The only family Stannis had left had adored Lyanna from the very first moment she set foot inside Storm's End. Renly treated her like a mother, sister and savior rolled into one.
Would Stannis' father and mother have liked her, if they were still alive? Or would they think her odd too, a wild northern girl lacking the fine courtesies and refinements of southern women?
"Would your parents have agreed to the match? If they were still alive?" She asked her husband.
"The match?"
"Robert marrying me. Or you marrying me."
He was silent for a long time. "I don't know," he finally answered.
Well, at least he's being honest, she thought.
"I used to do it all the time, wondering, what would Mother think? What would Mother do? What would Father think? What would Father do? At some point … I realized … I can't know the answer. I don't remember them well enough to know. In fact, I never knew them well enough to know," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
She had not expected this. Her hand touching his cheek gently, she replied, "My father is still living and I can't tell what he might think, or do, either. I don't think we can ever truly know our parents."
"Maybe not," he said, smiling a smile that seemed more a grimace, but a smile still.
It was only after her husband had fallen asleep, and she was drifting into the land of dreams herself that Lyanna realized that she had not thought of the two people who had consumed her thoughts for weeks at all that day. She had not thought of the Crown Prince and his wife even once that day.