Lyanna Stark
Lyanna stared sullenly at the leaves of the great weirwood above her, her thoughts drifting idly. She'd spoken with her father again this morning, begging him to break her betrothal to Robert. Again he'd refused and this time he'd grown angry at her request, angry enough that they'd wound up shouting at each other. Eventually she'd given up and stormed out, and now Lyanna found herself hiding here in the godswood. It was hardly the first time she'd clashed with her father about his plans to marry her to Robert Baratheon, but Lyanna couldn't recall a time that it had ended like that.
In the past they'd been civil discussions for the most part, and her father had listened to her concerns and tried to appease them. Yet now, with the marriage drawing ever closer and Robert here in Winterfell he'd lost his patience it seemed. Sighing Lyanna looked down from the boughs of the weirwood, her eyes scanning the clearing at its base. The glade was especially quiet today, the hot springs scattered around it warming the frigid air to a tolerable level.
Lyanna smiled slightly at the sight of it, she'd spent a great deal of the last fortnight here in the godswood. More so than usual in fact. Almost every day for the last two weeks she'd had sparring matches and swordsmanship lessons here in the godswood with Artys and Benjen. Artys said she'd improved vastly given the short period of time, and that Lyanna had a gift for blades. Usually when men said things like that to her Lyanna assumed they where trying to flatter her and gain her favor. Yet when Artys said it he seemed to mean it, and with a tone to it almost as if they where equals.
The past two weeks meant that Lyanna had come to know Artys fairly well, and she had to admit that she like the Arryn knight. He was kind, polite, and a fine teacher, even if he did still go red as a beet every time he spoke to a woman. In his time here at Winterfell Lyanna had found herself periodically seeking him out, and not just for their sparring sessions. She couldn't help it, despite his awkwardness Lyanna felt comfortable around the big man, and liked speaking with him. Though she had to admit that part of his appeal lay in the fact that he was perhaps the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
Artys had told her dozens of stories of his time in the Vale with Ned and Robert. From the tale behind his shadowskin cloak to stories about his hounds back at the Gates of the Moons, apparently he had one of the finest packs in the Vale. In return Lyanna had told him stories of the North, of riding through the Rills and the tales of various Kings in the North and their wars with Kings Beyond the Wall. They'd spent hours laughing and telling those stories, sometimes with Ned and Benjen there, others with just the two of them.
Lyanna had spent the rest of the past fortnight with Ned when she could, and with Robert when her father insisted. The Stormlander had proven to be everything she feared. He was polite and charming when it suited him, but Lyanna had caught glimpses of him when he thought she wasn't near, and had listened to what the servants said. Robert was boisterous and had a love for food and wine, just as Ned had said. More than once she'd caught him looking at the rears of passing maids, and she'd even been told by one of the servants that the guards who had come north with Ned and his friends had been overheard talking about the bastard Robert had left behind in the Vale.
Lyanna had even gone so far as to ask Ned about that rumor, and her brother had reluctantly confirmed that Robert did indeed have a bastard daughter in the Vale. Artys had just as reluctantly admitted to the girl's existence when Lyanna asked him about her as well. Both of them had tried to defend Robert despite that revelation, saying that it had been before he had been betrothed to her. Yet Lyanna had seen his glances at the maids, she didn't doubt that when she married Robert, if she married Robert, he wouldn't keep to her bed for long.
She could not abide that, and that had been the heart of her conversation with her father this morning. The sound of a gentle cough yanked Lyanna from her thoughts, and she snapped her head around so fast that her vision blurred slightly at the edges. Ned stood at the edge of the clearing, eyeing her cautiously. After a moment of staring at each other, Ned broke the silence, "You talked to father again."
It wasn't a question, yet Lyanna found herself nodding anyway. A sympathetic look crossed her brother's face as Ned moved towards her, silent until he settled onto a small boulder just before her, "I take it that it didn't go well."
Lyanna resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she shook her head, "When does talking to father ever go well Ned?" She sat up slightly straighter as she felt the fire beginning to burn in her belly, "No matter how much I try to talk to him, to tell him. He listens, but it's like he doesn't hear me. He's so caught up in his idea of a pretty marriage between me and some mighty southern lord." Lyanna gave a groan of exasperation and buried her head in her arms, it was all to much if she carried on she'd only make it worse, more anger wouldn't help. No matter how right it felt.
Ned was silent for another few moments, "You really don't want to marry him, do you?"
She peered out from between her arms, Ned's face was solemn as always, but his eyes where sadder than usual. Silently Lyanna shook her head, eyes never leaving her brothers face. For all her questions she'd asked him about Robert she'd never said the words to Ned. She watched as Ned reached up and ran one hand through his hair, sighing softly, "May I ask why?"
Now it was Lyanna's turn to sigh, "I don't love him Ned. I've seen the way he looks at other women when he thinks I'm not around, and you told me about his bastard back in the Vale. If I marry him there's no chance he'll stay faithful. I can't forgive that."
Ned's mouth tightened, though she saw the understanding in his eyes, Lord Arryn had put a strong sense of honor into her brother in all those years in the Vale, at least from what she'd seen. That honor did not like the idea of his future good brother dishonoring his sister. Yet for all his honor Ned was nothing if not loyal, and again he tried to defend his friend, "Robert loves you Lya. Maybe you can't see it but he does. Shouldn't that count for something?"
Lyanna barked out a bitter laugh, "It should Ned, but it doesn't. Love is worthless if he takes another woman to bed each night." This time the silence was longer, and Lyanna stared at her brother for nearly a score of heartbeats before the sound of distant laughter caught their attention. Ned's brow furrowed as the sound approached and Lyanna felt a seed of terror growing in her belly.
From the trees of the godswood Artys and Benjen emerged, clad in their padded sparring armor and each carrying a pair of wooden training swords and a shield. Benjen appeared to be in the midst of telling the valeman a story, a story that died on his lips as he saw the glade beneath the heart tree was occupied. Both of them stopped in their tracks, and Artys brows furrowed in confusion to match Ned's. Lyanna felt a moment of panic as she realized that she was likely still red faced and puffy from her argument with her father earlier, Artys couldn't see her like this. That panic receded only slightly as she realized Artys had seen her far worse in the past few weeks during their sparring sessions.
Concern reflected in Artys' eyes as he looked at her before flicking his gaze to Ned, "Sorry Ned, Lyanna. We thought the godswood would be empty." The big man looked mildly uncomfortable as he gestured behind him, "We can go if you need. Spar in the courtyard."
Ned shook his head, looking from Lyanna to Benjen and Artys, "You're fine Artys. We where just finishing talking. I don't suppose you'd mind if I stayed to watch though? I hear Ben's coming along well with the blade."
Once more Artys' gaze flicked to Lyanna, the concern from before now joined by uncertainty, "You're welcome to stay Ned. Maybe you can spot something that I missed." With that he strode to the heart tree, Benjen following close behind him, the same looks of concern and uncertainty on the youngest Stark's face.
Both of them lay their extra swords against the heart tree, and Benjen managed a sideways glance to Lyanna. He quickly mouthed to her, 'are you alright?' and she nodded in return. Artys on the other hand turned to walk back across the clearing, to the small space of flat ground between two of the pools that usually served as the sparring ground.
Lyanna's eyes followed him as he walked, taking in the surprisingly graceful way that the huge knight moved. In the past weeks he'd shaved the short beard that he'd worn when he'd arrived, claiming it had only been to keep out the cold, and now his face was clear except for a light stubble just starting to grow back. It left him looking younger than Ned, and gave him a certain look of innocence about him that Lyanna couldn't help but enjoy. Shaking her head to clear the thoughts Lyanna noticed that Ned had been watching her as her eyes followed Artys, and she blanched slightly at what he might be thinking. However Ned just gave her a strange look and turned to the pair readying to fight before him.
Artys and Benjen appeared oblivious to the small non verbal exchange as the both strapped their shields to their arms and took up their training swords. Nodding to each other they both dropped into ready stances. Benjen strode carefully forward, feet checking tentatively for obstacles as he kept his eyes locked upon his older and larger opponent. Artys by comparison seemed far more relaxed, and merely held his ground, watching his student with interest.
However as Benjen neared the Arryn man sprang into action, striking out of his seemingly easy stance with lightning quickness. Benjen gave a slight yelp of surprise as he knocked the slash that had aimed for his knee aside with his shield, managing to duck beneath the follow up swing that would have cracked him across the head. This carried on for several minutes as Artys launched three more combinations of several strokes, which Benjen managed to mostly dodge, parry or block with his shield. Only three strokes got past the young man's defense, a sharp jab that had caught him in the ribs, a slash had caught his right shoulder and Artys had delivered a gentle tap to Benjen's jaw with his blade, that could have been a full on swing if Artys' hadn't held it in check.
After the tap to Benjen's jaw was delivered the big man stepped back and gave Benjen a wide smile, "Not bad Ben, you're doing better. But your footwork is still off, and you're not getting all the power or movement you need. You need to set your feet like this." After demonstrating Artys' eyes flicked up to Ned and Lyanna, and he jerked his head questioningly at Benjen.
Ned nodded in agreement with Artys' words, speaking to his friend instead of Benjen, "He needs to keep his shield up too, and he's biting to hard on the feints by the look of it."
Artys shook his head at Ned and chuckled, "True, but lets just handle the basics for now, a high shield's worthless if you trip over your own feet." Ned nodded once more in understanding and gestured for the two combatants to continue.
Once more the two of them squared off, Artys' taking a more defensive stance this time and tapping his sword to his shield, "Now come at me Ben." Benjen advanced with more surety this time, he was more confident than he'd been before Artys' arrival if nothing else and that she knew made him infinitely more dangerous. Benjen's fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade as he launched into a quick assault.
Lyanna tracked his sword as it flashed high twice, then at Artys' sword hand before feinting high once more, only to dive into a blow at Artys' foot. Each blow was met with a crack as sword or shield leaped to intercept it, Artys merely stepping back to avoid the final strike. Again this went on for several minutes, Benjen taking this time to launch various attacks, only occasionally interrupted by a swift counter attack from Artys to test his reactions. Not a single strike came near to touching the big man, every one dodged or deflected with apparent ease.
After a another few minutes Artys called a stop and set the tip of his sword on the ground, leaning gently on the training blade as he spoke to Benjen, "Much better Ben, footwork was better than last match. Just make sure you're not falling into a pattern when you attack, you started doing that at the end." Benjen nodded in response even as he panted slightly from exertion, great frosty plumes spewing from his mouth as he did so.
Lyanna felt slightly envious in that moment, if Ned wasn't here it would be her turn to spar with Artys now. Yet as she watched Artys turned to Ned, a mischievous smile growing on his face as he looked at his friend, "Don't suppose you'd care for a match Ned? Its been a few weeks since we sparred. Besides, I leave in just a few days, this might be our last chance for a long time to see if you can finally beat me."
That caught Lyanna's attention, Artys was leaving in a few days? She wracked her brain for a moment, trying to remember what she could about their departure. Then it truly hit her, both of the southern lords would be leaving the day after tomorrow, setting out for White Harbor to secure ships home. A deep ache settled in the pit of her stomach, that meant no more sparring lessons with Artys for her. That meant no more Artys at all.
Dimly she heard Ned answering Artys' question, sounding amused as did so, "I don't see why not. I could manage to give you a thrashing before we have to see you off."
Glancing over to her brother Lyanna watched as he stood and strode across the clearing to Benjen, accepting the youngest Stark's shield and sword. Ned gave the sword a few experimental swings and tightened the shield on his arms before turning to Artys.
Lyanna's eyes flicked between them, all the advantages seemed to be against Ned. Artys was taller by half a head at least, stronger too, and deceptively fast for his size. Not to mention she'd heard rumors, and even once from Ned himself, that Artys was the better blade of the two of them. Meanwhile Lyanna wasn't even sure that Ned had sparred since he'd returned to Winterfell, she'd never seen him out in the yard at least.
Ned and Artys shared a quick nod as they began to advance on each other, both of their faces taught with concentration as they eyed their opponents. It was Artys who made the first move, stepping forward with a single lightning fast slash for Ned's head, Lyanna could barely track the progress of the blade. Yet as it neared it's target the sword was met with Ned's shield, and her brother stepped to the side and struck back even as she watched.
Artys batted the attack aside and grinned as he stepped back and began to circle Ned, his sword beating out a slow rhythm on the dirt as he tapped it against the ground almost unconsciously. Ned rotated slowly in place as his friend circled him, eyes never leaving Artys' face.
This time it was Ned who went on the offensive, with a slash for Artys' leg which was blocked away with a jarring thud of wood on wood. From there Lyanna began to lose track of the fight as Artys and Ned began to settle into the battle. The clack of wood on wood filled the glade as she watched, both men's blades becoming a blur. They danced, forward and back, giving ground only to reclaim it moments later, and Lyanna was impressed by the display before her. Yet to her it seemed that Ned was barely holding his own against Artys, narrowly dodging or parrying the bigger man's blows, and it looked as if Ned couldn't hold on for much longer.
As if in response to her thoughts Ned's foot slipped as he took a step backwards to avoid a blow, and though he maintained his feet Lyanna could see that he was off balance. Artys capitalized, stepping forward and batting aside a frantic slash from Ned, his shield smashing into his friend's. Lyanna couldn't help a small gasp escaping as Ned was sent sprawling, his sword coming free from his hand. While the wooden blade clattered across the roots to rest at the edge of one of the pools Artys stepped over Ned, bringing his own weapon about to rest at Ned's throat.
For a moment it was silent except for Ned and Artys' heavy breathing, then Artys' smile widened and he removed his sword, grabbing it with his shield hand as he offered Ned a hand. A smile likewise graced Ned's face as he took the hand and stood with a slight grunt of effort.
Lyanna couldn't help but laugh with relief, the match had been a beautiful thing to watch but it had left her somewhat breathless watching it. Then her eyes where drawn to the sky and her good cheer vanished, it was well past midday. Robert had asked her to go riding with him, and as angry as she was with her father Lyanna knew how angry he'd be if she missed out on that, anger which she could not handle at the moment. Standing she tried to dust off her dress as best she could, sitting under the heart tree had left leaves sticking to the wool.
Artys looked over as Lyanna made her way towards the clearings edge and the keep, and she caught a flash of disappointment on his face as he called out to her, "Leaving so soon m'lady? I thought you'd want to see me give your brothers another beating."
She had to suppress a smile at the gentle teasing in Artys' voice as she turned around and shook her head, allowing just a sliver of her annoyance to shine through, "I'm afraid not Artys. Robert has kindly asked me to join him for a bit of riding, and I must leave if I'm to meet him."
That got her a raised eyebrow, "Riding? In this weather?" Lyanna had asked herself the same question earlier today, the weather had warmed slightly in recent weeks, but nowhere near enough for riding in earnest. Not to mention Robert hadn't handled the cold well during his visit so far, and she suspected that half of the conversation today would be his complaining about the chill.
Shaking her head again she caught herself smiling teasingly at Artys, "Still unaccustomed to the lovely northern weather are you Ser Artys? No worries, I understand the cook will have plenty of warm food and warm wine to suit your southern tastes."
Artys shook his head and laughed loudly though over his shoulder Lyanna caught that strange look on Ned's face again as he looked between her and his friend, realization seeming to spark in his eyes. Turning away quickly she called over her shoulder as she walked out of the clearing, "Good luck with your sparring Ser Artys! Make sure to give my brothers that thrashing you promised!"
The three men started talking among themselves as she stepped into the trees. Yet as she walked Lyanna couldn't help but feel as if two pairs of eyes where following her. Somewhere in her belly a tug of fear could be felt as she wondered what those eyes meant.
Ned Stark
She loved Artys. The thoughts ran through Ned's head as he watched Lyanna disappear into the trees of the godswood. He wasn't sure how he'd missed it in the past few weeks but now it seemed plain as day. Not that Artys or even Lyanna seemed to realize it though. Turning his head Ned looked at Artys, his friends eyes still locked on the point where Lyanna had vanished among the trees. He loves her too.
The thoughts simultaneously pleased and horrified Ned. He was happy for his sister and Artys, they both deserved someone to love. Yet at the same time he realized the nightmare that this could become. Robert loved Lyanna as well, and was already betrothed to her. If he found out that she had feelings for Artys, ones that he had as well. Ned shivered internally, he could only imagine the rampage that Robert would go on.
Ned let his gaze carry on, settling it upon Benjen, still standing just behind Artys' other shoulder. His youngest brother had the same thoughtful expression Ned imagined he himself wore right now, and when Ben turned his head and met Ned's gaze there was a knowing spark in his eyes too. So Benjen knows as well, or at least suspects, I wonder for how long? He's spent more time around them than I have after all.
Turning back to Artys Ned coughed slightly to get his friends attention. Artys turned to him, cocking an eyebrow curiously and Ned jerked his head at the patch of earth they'd just sparred on, "Another go then? See if I can't beat you for once?" Artys gave him a vicious grin and nodded, seizing his sword from the ground where he'd left it and marching back to their little arena. After a moment Ned followed him, mind racing as he did so, what should he do about Lyanna and Artys? What could he do? He pushed the thoughts from his mind however as he settled into a guard, and they where gone entirely by the time he parried the first blow.
By the time Ned and Artys had finished training it was nearly sunset and both of them where soaked with sweat. They'd dragged Benjen into the ring after a few more bouts, pitting him against Ned then Artys, trying to work out the flaws in the younger boy's style. Striding out of the godswood Ned poked tenderly at a rather nasty bruise on his ribs. The final bout had been him and Benjen against Artys, a bout that ended with Artys elbowing Benjen so hard in the temple the youngest Stark had seen stars, then bashing Ned across the ribs with his sword.
The pain of that defeat vanished from Ned's mind however when he entered the courtyard, there was Lyanna, looking like she was going to check on Sygerrik in the stables. Now was his chance to talk to her, or at least as good as a chance as he could hope for. Ned picked up his pace to a fast trot, entering the stables just moments after she did.
Glancing about Ned saw her walking down the aisle between stalls, muttering to herself as she went, it took only a few heartbeats to catch up to her, "Lya!" He kept his voice just above a harsh whisper as to not spook the horses with a shout, but even that was enough to spook Lyanna. Ned started in surprise as his sister spun faster than he'd expected, her own face as surprised as his.
She looked at him incredulously, "Ned? What's wrong?"
That took him aback for a moment, "Something has to be wrong for me to speak to you?"
Lyanna cocked an eyebrow, "No. But usually when you chase after me into the stables that's what it means." Ned chuckled, she wasn't entirely wrong there, more than once over the years he'd been forced to run her down with bad news. Though usually that involved him telling her that father had discovered she'd skipped her lessons to go riding. A small smile graced Lyanna's face as she turned and continued down the aisle, "What do you need Ned?"
Ned trotted after her, catching up and coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with her as she reached Sygerrik's stall, "It's about Artys, about today in the godswood." Lyanna's head snapped around, apprehension visible on her face before she masked it over with calm indifference.
Reaching up to pet Sygerrik's nose she shrugged, "What about it?"
Now Ned paused, wondering over how he'd put this question. After a few heartbeats Lyanna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and Ned made his decision. Best to be forward about this kind of thing, "You love him, don't you?"
Even the horses seemed to fall silent at that question, though for a moment Ned could have sworn he saw relief on Lyanna's face before the anger kicked in. Turning she put her hands on her hips and glared at him, "What did you just say?"
Swallowing and severely questioning whether this had been a good idea Ned carried on, "Y-you love Artys." Lyanna's face twisted with anger and she stepped forward. Ned never even saw the blow coming, and Lyanna's fist caught him square in the jaw. Reeling back Ned cursed himself once again for thinking of this, then the pain hit. Gods! Where did she learn to hit like that? But years of training and fighting with Robert and Artys had made him used to far worse hits, and Ned straightened, glaring at his sister, "What the hells Lya?"
Lyanna glared right back at him, hands once again firmly on her hips, "How dare you Ned! How dare you ask that!" Horses where beginning to prance nervously as her voice rose dangerously, even Sygerrik whinnying at the tension in the air.
Probing at his teeth with his tongue Ned tasted blood, "All I did was ask a question. It was all over your face when we where in the godswood, his too."
The anger receded slightly from Lyanna's face, "What was all over his face?"
Spitting the blood onto the floor Ned glanced back up at her, confused, "You mean you couldn't see it?" The glare was returning and Ned braced himself for another blow as he opened his mouth to speak, "Artys loves you too Lyanna."
A smile spread across Lyanna's face for a fraction of a second, then she locked eyes with him and it vanished. Sighing she turned back to Sygerrik and reached up to pet the big horse's nose, comforting him, "Is it that obvious Ned?"
He shrugged, "Obvious enough I suppose, though I only just noticed today to be honest." A thought struck him, "Benjen might have figured it out too, and probably earlier. Though I think Artys doesn't have a clue."
Lyanna laughed slightly, "Of course Benjen would know."
Once more silence reigned in the stable as Ned stepped forward to stand beside her, eyeing her cautiously out of the corner of his eye, "Is that part of why you don't want to marry Robert?"
This time Lyanna snorted, "I've wanted nothing to do with Robert since the minute father told me about him. Meeting Artys didn't change any of that. Though now, it would be one reason among many I suppose." She shook her head and gave a sigh, "Is it wrong of me Ned? Sometimes I wonder if I could convince father to do away with the betrothal, let me marry Artys."
Ned grimaced, we both know there's no way father would agree to that, even with a dagger at his throat. Thinking he tried to pick his words carefully, "It's, it's not entirely wrong of you. But you've only known Artys for a fortnight Lya, what makes you think he'd be any better of a husband than Robert?" Even to his own ears his argument sounded week, and Lyanna looked at him sidelong, one eyebrow cocked. Grimacing again Ned nodded, "I see your point. There's nothing we can do about it though, short of running away with Artys or killing Robert."
Realizing what he said Ned scrambled to continue, "But Artys isn't the kind to do that sort of thing, and nobody is killing Robert."
The amusement was back on Lyanna's face, but it faded again to to solemn acceptance. Turning away from Sygerrik she mumbled softly, "I know Ned." She walked back up the aisle towards the exit, "I'll see you at supper Ned. I need to think."
Ned wasn't entirely sure that he'd managed to convince her that she'd have to marry Robert, Lyanna was to stubborn for that. Yet watching her leave he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he only nodded as he watched her leave. A sinking feeling settling in his gut as he did so, this wasn't the end of this, not by far.
Artys Arryn
Throwing his saddlebag onto his bed Artys looked around his chambers. The rooms that the Starks had given him for his stay where comfortable and surprisingly warm, something to do with hot water piped through the walls Ned had said. A rather ingenious idea really, Artys had wondered about trying it back at the Eyrie until Ned pointed out two fatal flaws with that idea. One the Eyrie didn't have hot springs beneath it like Winterfell did, and second they'd have to tear down and then rebuild all the walls for that to work. So Artys had been forced to admit that his idea was doomed from the start.
Chuckling slightly at the memory Artys looked around the room again, trying to recall if he'd forgotten anything. Today was his last in Winterfell, the plan was to leave tomorrow around dawn, to make the best use of the still short winter days. So he'd decided to pack everything tonight, the better to allow himself a little extra sleep tomorrow.
Almost everything was gone from the room, except his shadowskin, his sword and the furs that he'd need for tomorrow. Despite the fact that winter was on its last legs the air outside here in the North was still frigid enough that it put even the toughest men on their heels. Gods knew they'd lost enough to frost bite on the journey to Winterfell, two men had lost toes and a third the tip of his nose. Artys shook his head, he had no intention of joining them on that route.
A knock on the door broke Artys from his thoughts and he snapped his head around, "Enter." He'd been expecting Ned coming to check on him or Robert there to beg another delay, the Baratheon man had already gotten two, dragging their fortnight into closer to three weeks. Instead he was greeted to the sight of Lyanna, wearing a simple white wool dress.
Seeing the saddlebag on his head a slight frown crossed her face, "Packing to leave I see."
Artys shrugged and gave her a crooked grin, "I'm not feeling up to waking long before dawn to pack. Figured now is as good a time as any to be honest."
That earned him a giggle and Lyanna walked to a chair near the door, looking at him questioningly until Artys waved his hand in acceptance. Sitting Lyanna smiled gently at him, "I'm sorry about the last few days, I've been, occupied."
Artys nodded, the last time he'd see her had been three days ago, when he and Ned had sparred in the godswood. Entering the clearing to see Ned had given him quite a fright, thinking his friend had discovered he was teaching Lyanna swordplay. They'd been lucky that wasn't the case, or there would have been some serious explaining to do
Lyanna looked down at her hands then back up at him, looking somewhat uncertain now, "I was wondering, if you'd like to spar in the godswood. One last time before you go."
He twisted his face in confusion, "A little late for a final lesson don't you think?" It was nearly dark outside, and most of the castle was preparing for dinner soon.
The response he got was a simple shake of her head, "I was thinking after dinner, Benjen won't be able to come but there's enough light to see by tonight. We could manage a few bouts."
Artys' confusion only magnified, "Why can't Benjen join us? I didn't realize he was busy."
Lyanna shrugged, her face unreadable though Artys caught a spark of annoyance in her eye, "He said he has a task to do for our father. Something that can't wait."
That made sense in a way he supposed, Lord Stark didn't seem a particularly patient man, "Very well, we can spar. Though we'll have to be careful though, wouldn't want to wake the castle. Finding you and me alone in the godswood would raise questions."
Lyanna cocked her eyebrow, "More questions than you teaching me how to spar over the past fortnight?" Artys gave a low chuckle, she had him there. Lyanna continued on, "Besides, there's enough room between the heart tree and the walls that the guards won't hear us, and the Guest House is empty right now."
Nodding Artys chuckled again, "You've planned this out well. I'll meet you in the godswood after supper. One last sparring session before I go."
She grinned widely at him and sprang to her feet, wrapping him in a surprisingly tight hug, "Thank you Artys."
With the unexpected pressure crushing the air from his lungs the best that Artys could manage was a strangled croak before she released him. With another, more vicious smile Lyanna turned and strode for the door, "I'll see you tonight then." Just like that she was gone, rubbing his ribs Artsy watched the door swing shut behind her and smiled.
The snow crunched beneath Artys' feet as he made his way through the godswood, stumbling blindly over roots every few steps. True when one was out in the open the moonlight was enough to see by, but beneath the thick canopy of the godswood? Better luck convincing a Lannister to give up his gold. When he banged his shin for the fifth time Artys cursed, "Gods damned trees, gods dammed moon, gods dammed roots."
Just ahead a thin beam of moonlight came into view, and breaking free of the trees Artys sighed in relief that he could see again. As he looked up from his battered legs and out over the clearing though, all thoughts died and he exhaled deeply in awe. If the center of the godswood was beautiful in the day it was awe inspiring in the moonlight. The stars just visible through the sparser leaves of the heart tree, the snow turned silver in the moonlight. Even the pools scattered around the clearing shone like jewels.
But what really took his breath away was standing before the heart tree. Lyanna was clad in her usual sparring gear, old castoff padded tunic and trousers with bits of similarly scavenged leather armor worn over it. A wooden sword clutched loosely in one hand and a battered shield strapped to the other arm. Yet in the moonlight she looked like some sort of warrior angel, beautiful and strong, long hair hanging loose about her shoulders.
Regaining his composure Artys coughed to get her attention, and Lyanna's head snapped around to him. For an instant she smiled, transforming her face into something even more beautiful, then it was gone, replaced with annoyance, "There you are! You had me worried I was out here for nothing."
Artys gave her an apologetic smile, "Its a bit darker than I anticipated in the trees. Got lost for a minute."
Lyanna rolled her eyes, a faint smile returning to her lips, "Well at least you're here. Lets get started shall we?" Kneeling she retrieved a sword and shield from behind a small boulder, tossing them gently to Artys.
Catching them he strapped the shield on, tightening the buckles nicely and grunting in approval before taking up the sword. After a few practice swings to get its balance Artys nodded in approval, a good enough weapon for tonight. Lyanna bounced impatiently on her toes as she watched him, eager to begin. Content he'd made her wait long enough Artys took a long step back and nodded to her, the signal to begin.
In a heartbeat she came at him, blade swinging high as she led with her shield. With a grunt Artys batted the sword aside and struck her shield with his own. The Stark children all had very different tactics, Lyanna fought like Brandon, all aggression compared to Ned's cautious defense. As Artys' shield struck hers Lyanna rolled off it coming up on Artys' left, his shield side, where he couldn't attack her easily. Pivoting after her Artys blocked a quick succession of blows, Lyanna had definitely improved in the past weeks.
Her attack foiled Lyanna began to circle him, smiling that same wild grin as she prowled about Artys like a wolf around an aurochs. Then on she came again, sword leading high, then low then for his outstretched sword arm. Artys ducked, then parried and caught the last attack on his shield before launching his own assault. A quick thrust followed by a shield bash and a punch with the pommel of his sword. The first didn't even come close, Lyanna flowing around it like water, only to be sent staggering by the shield, barely dodging the last blow.
With his opponent off balance Artys grinned and drove in, refusing to let her come back on the attack. Lyanna had learned the hard way in their past sessions that she couldn't block the hammer blows that Artys called sword strokes, so she danced around what she could and parried what she couldn't. Yet Artys could see that each attack left her a little more ragged, each defense a little slower, and she was giving ground badly.
She never even realized she was going right where he wanted her too. Artys swept out a heavy horizontal slash, and Lyanna stepped back to dodge, only to find no earth beneath her feet. With a squeal of surprise she tumbled backwards, head over heels into one of the hot pools. Setting the point of his practice sword in the dirt Artys laughed quietly, shield arm clutching at his heaving side. Lyanna came up glaring at him once more, the water barely reaching to her thigh where she stood, but the girl soaked to the bone nonetheless.
Still glaring at Artys Lyanna pointed her sword at him, "You're lucky that these pools are warm. I could freeze to death."
Artys snorted with laughter, "If you freeze to death between here and the keep you wouldn't be much of a northerner would you now? Masters of the frozen wasteland and all that."
Lyanna's glare only deepened, which made Artys laugh harder, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Then the water struck him, it was pleasantly warm, almost hot in fact yet it still sent a shock through him. In the pool Lyanna looked around herself innocently for whoever could have splashed him. Sighing Artys undid the straps on his shield and set it and his sword aside, walking to the edge of the pool her stuck out a hand to help her back out, "You can't say it wasn't funny."
Wading over to him Lyanna tossed her own sword and shield onto shore, "Of course I can." Reaching up she grabbed onto his hand, then threw all of her weight backwards. Artys heard himself squawk in surprise as he went airborne, sailing over her head and splashing into the pool. The water was even warmer than that which Lyanna had splashed on him.
Standing up he gasped for air and listened to Lyanna laugh this time, "Now that was funny." Glaring at her he waded to the edge and scrambled out, hissing as the frigid air hit his now soaked skin. Turning he once again offered Lyanna a hand out, his feet braced this time in case she tried to throw him in again. Yet Lyanna simply took the hand and scrambled out, fast enough that Artys didn't have time to step back, and they slammed together.
For several long heartbeats they stood chest to chest, or more like chest to stomach considering the height difference between them. Artys found his eyes locked with Lyanna's, knowing he should look away and step back, yet not sure if he entirely wanted to. A slight smile pulled at Lyanna's lips and she coughed softly, breaking Artys' reverie.
With a startled grunt he took a step back and looked about guiltily, finding the clearing empty, as it should be. Inwardly he kicked himself, she's betrothed, to one of your best friends no less you dolt, have some self control. Coughing nervously, Artys looked at Lyanna awkwardly, only to find she was still smiling and hadn't moved from where she stood. Silence reigned in the godswood as the two of them stared at each other.
Eventually it was her who broke it, with another cough as she shivered and rubbed at her arms, "Well this will be the last chance that I have to thank you for this. So, thank you Artys, for sparring with me."
Artys opened and closed his mouth twice as he searched for the words, what was he supposed to say right now? He decided to just keep it simple, "You, you're welcome. It was an honor."
Lyanna giggled softly and then the silence resumed, unsure of what else to do Artys strode back to the pool and knelt, intent on retrieving the training weapons. With them gathered in his hands he turned to rise and found Lyanna directly before him. Before he could say a word she leaned down and gave him a single kiss on the lips. Dumbfounded the only thoughts that came to his mind where how soft her lips where.
Some conscious corner of his mind registered the sound of wood clattering to stone and realized he must have dropped the swords. The rest of his mind simply ignored that part. Then it was over, Lyanna stepped back and gave him another smile, "Thank you." Then she was gone, disappearing into the trees.
Artys lost track of how long he knelt there, unmoving, unsure of what he should do now. Still in a haze he gathered the weapons and stood, dizzily making his way towards the edge of the clearing. The corner of his mind that was still functioning telling him that he was smiling like an idiot. Dimly he could see the fact that his hands where turning blue. Fuck it was cold.
Slinging his saddlebags across his horses back Artys looked around the courtyard. His men and a handful of Stark soldiers where bustling about, saddling horses and preparing to leave. The weather had broken early this morning, and it was truly beginning to look like spring was on its way. A good sign if there was any.
A heavy hand on his shoulder caught Artys' attention, Robert stood behind him, grinning widely as he looked around, "Things are finally looking up eh Artys?" The bigger man caught a glimpse of Artys face and his smile died, "Seven hells Artys, you look like shit. Did you sleep at all last night?"
Artys shrugged, he honestly hadn't much. After that sparring session with Lyanna he'd stumbled back to his room barely able to feel his extremities. That water may have felt nice but it left him colder than he'd ever been in his life. By the time he'd settled in and been warm enough to fall asleep it'd been a scarce few hours to dawn.
Robert gave him a knowing grin, "Stay up all night with some lass did you? Hope it was worth it." Artys' eyes went wider than he'd ever felt them before, and he stared at his friend in surprise. Chuckling Robert started away to ready his own horse. Looking after his friend Artys prayed to the seven that he never knew how right he actually was.
Cinching the straps of his saddle tight Artys rested his head against the warm side of his horse for a moment, feeling his breath misting in the beard he'd been growing since he arrived in the north. Lifting his head he turned and strode among his men, making sure that all of them where ready for the impending journey, food and clothes stored, plenty of furs, the usual drill. With that done he moved to the front of the pack, to where the Starks where gathered.
Lord Stark was speaking with Robert as he approached, "-send you a raven when we have determined a date. It will likely have to wait until after Brandon's wedding though. It was an honor to have you as a guest Lord Baratheon." The hard faced lord clasped Robert's hand as he finished speaking.
Robert merely grinned widely, "It was an honor to be here m'lord. With any luck I'll be able to visit again before the wedding."
Lord Stark nodded and turned to Artys, "As for you Ser Artys, my thanks for your help in teaching Benjen swordsmanship." The lord flicked his eyes over the rest of his family and his voice dropped to a mock whisper as he gave a small grin, "And for besting Brandon. He needs humbling every now and again." Sputtering indignation sounded from Brandon and Artys gave an involuntary laugh, that was the first joke he'd ever heard Lord Stark make.
Clasping hands with the lord Artys smiled, "You have a wonderful family m'lord. It was my pleasure to meet them all. I'll be sure to have my father send you a letter if there's any fine lasses in the Vale for Ned to marry some day." The Stark lord gave another slight smile and nodded.
Moving on Artys clasped hands with Brandon, neither of them had much to say and just nodded before Artys moved on. Benjen looked slightly dejected at the prospect of Artys and Robert's departure as he embraced Artys. Pulling back he gave a weak smile, "I'll keep up with the training once your gone. Maybe next time you see us we'll be able to beat you."
Artys chuckled again, understanding that Benjen meant himself and Lyanna as well, "I'll be counting on it Ben. Maybe ask Ned for help while you're at it." Benjen gave a thoughtful nod as Artys moved on.
Ned stood next in line, looking slightly more solemn than usual, Artys clapped him on the shoulder, "You'll be fine Ned, besides you know father gave you an open invitation to visit the Vale any time. Wouldn't want to leave me alone with Andar and Albar would you?" Artys glanced over his shoulder to where his two cousins where squabbling, then back to his friend, pleading silently.
Shaking his head Ned smiled and embraced Artys, "I'll miss you my friend."
Artys returned the embrace, "And I you Ned. Help Ben with his sparring would you? He'll need it." Ned smiled again and nodded as Artys had a thought and reached into his shirt, pulling out the shadow cat fang on its cord, "Don't miss me to much, you've got this to remember me by after all." Ned just shook his head and fingered the cord around his own neck, barely visible above his collar.
Lyanna stood last in the line of Starks, looking after Robert as he walked back to his horse to mount up, having just spoken to her. Artys hid a smile as he noticed her surreptitiously wiping the back of her hand off on her dress. As he approached she turned and smiled at him, though there was apprehension in her eyes, "Ser Artys, I must say I'm sad to see you go."
Artys thought for a moment, there where so many things he wanted to ask her, to tell her. About last night, what it meant, the fact that he thought he loved her. Yet he was forced to settle with a simple smile, "I'm sad to be going my lady. It was my pleasure to meet you, I hope I will get to again some day."
Her smile held in his place, though her eyes held questions as well, "I'm sure we will at some point Artys. Farewell, and have a safe journey."
Nodding Artys turned and marched to his horse, swinging himself into his saddle he turned back and gave the Starks one final wave before nodding to Andar, who barked an order to his men. As one they turned and rode out the gates of Winterfell. Artys sighed as his thoughts turned south, towards home.
Author's Note: So there she is Chapter 4. Sorry about the delay folks, had exams then Christmas then personal stuff and work and a massive case of writer's block and it just spiraled out of control. Suffice to say though that I got it done and here we are, thought I'd make it a little longer to fit everything in and make up for my failure in timing. To those of you so fervently hoping for Artys x Lyanna, there you go, there's some of it. Though no promises that it won't change *dramatic foreshadowing music*. To answer a few questions: Guest- his archery skills are practically non resistant. Knights of the Vale, honor, all that malarkey. Cold blue- 1) Wait and see my young padawan. 2) A valyrian sword for him might end up being a thing, but if he found Lamentation he would probably end up giving it over to Bronze Yohn. 3) He's not likely going to get a familiar, what First Men blood he does have is very diluted, the Royces got kinda screwed over during the Andal Invasion after all. So no warging, he does have falcons but their just your standard hunting falcons, no fun stuff there. So no spiritual animal companions like Stark Direwolves.
That's all the questions I saw in the comments so I'll wrap this up. Apologies once again for the delay and thank you for those of you that read this. As always comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.
-S