Chapter 4: Righteous Anger

Summary:

Despite their differences — and without either being aware of the other doing so — Lyanna and Robert each experience righteous anger, but for different reasons.

Chapter Text

LyannaI

At Harrenhal - Day of Eddard's arrival

"Grandpa Wolfy!" The words from the little girl on Ned's shoulder went beyond leaving Lyanna at a loss for words. It was as if the impossible was confirmed. Her brother had a natural-born daughter with bright blue eyes — a daughter who seemingly wanted to be held by her grandfather, who looked just like an older version of her father.

Even her mother and father were speechless, not moving an inch as Ned reached over his head and lifted the girl from his shoulders, holding her on one arm and ruffling her hair, which earned him a giggle from the girl who still looked at Rickard Stark and reached out for him.

"May I introduce you all to Mya Stone," Ned said to them with a smile, holding the girl the same way their father had held her when she was a little girl: protectively, and with warm eyes, having something reserved in them that she could only describe as a father's love.

"And you all thought I would be the first to bring a child home!" Brandon suddenly exclaimed, and Lyanna was sure she heard her father's neck snap as he turned his head to the oldest of the Stark siblings. Her mother scolded, "Brandon!" and sounded aghast. Even so, Lyanna's gaze remained on Ned, and she noticed how his eyes got wide, before all of a sudden a loud laugh burst from her brother's lips, causing the girl to giggle, too. "You…" Ned said and shook his head, still clearly amused. "You think Mya is my daughter?" Again Lyanna was sure she could hear her father's head move sharply, eyes on Ned again. "This is Mya, Robert's daughter," Ned said. With this sentence, Lyanna could hear how her father exhaled, seemingly having held his breath out of the shock.

While her siblings — just like her parents — seemed to relax — and even be a bit amused from the confusion, and was that a hint of disappointment on her mother's part? — Lyanna's eyes finally moved to the other man on a horse: Robert Baratheon. The foster brother of Ned, and her betrothed. A betrothed who wrote Lyanna a letter that sounded as if she was some stupid southern damsel. Lyanna could feel her blood boil at the thought of the letter alone, anger rising again. As if that wasn't enough, Robert had also brought his bastard daughter to the tourney. The man probably wanted to show Lyanna directly how her future life would be, just being a womb to give birth to his children and accept all his bastards running around in Storm's End. If so, he was in for a rude awakening. She was the she-wolf for a reason.

Lyanna took a deep breath, her grey eyes getting hard as she nodded towards the other man, "Lord Baratheon," greeting them before her father would remind her of her manners. A moment later Lyanna regretted it, as the tall man got down from his horse and moved next to Ned. It was as if Robert and Ned were used to this, her brother simply handing the little girl over to Robert before he got down from his horse too.

Just as always, Ned was the perfect son, stepping in front of their parents first and getting on one knee. "Lord Stark, Lady Stark," Ned greeted their parents as if he was just some knight. "I'm happy to see you here. From your letters, I thought at least one of you would remain in Winterfell." After the shock of thinking Ned had sired a bastard, even her father didn't really care, and he simply pulled Ned up and into a hug.

"It is good to finally see you again my son," Lyanna heard her father whisper into Ned's ear during the hug. In response her brother just wrapped his arms tighter around their father. Her mother only looked on, smiling fondly. Out of the corner of her eye, Lya noticed how Robert was approaching them, making slow steps with the blue-eyed girl on his arm. A moment before Robert was standing in front of Lya, Ned had turned around and gave her a big smile.

"Lya!" Lyanna definitely was not used to Ned saying her name so loudly before simply wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. It was then that she noticed how tall Ned had gotten over the last four years. Tall, broad, and muscled; what a surprising change in her brother. He was the quiet wolf, but right now he showed only happiness, not holding his emotions back. "I have to introduce you to someone," Ned whispered into Lyanna's ear, and she was sure that she could hear his smile.

"Lyanna," her brother started, "this is Robert Baratheon. My foster brother and best friend, as well as your betrothed, and the Lord of the Stormlands." She nearly rolled her eyes when Robert smiled at her like a fool, but Ned's voice stopped her. "Still, that is not so important; the old oaf can wait a few more minutes before saying hello," her brother took the little girl from Robert's arms and smiled down at her before looking at Lyanna again. "This is Mya Stone, the biggest fan of the she-wolf I have ever met. She won't go to bed without hearing a story about the she-wolf's adventures." Now it was Lyanna who looked at her brother with wide eyes, blinking at what he'd just said before looking down at the girl. Bright blue eyes looked into her grey ones, and it was clear to see how excited and amazed the little girl was, directly reaching for her with her short arms and small hands. "She-wolfy!" Mya said, squealing in complete excitement.

Lyanna still couldn't believe it. She looked with wide eyes at her brother Ned and the girl, still blinking, before she slowly raised a hand and offered it to the little girl. "Hello Mya," she said in a neutral tone, a bit of self-hatred rising within her when she saw how sad the girl looked as she wrapped her hand around two of her fingers. Mya was a child; Lyanna knew she shouldn't blame her for her father's indiscretions, but it hurt to be confronted with what was waiting for her within a few years.

"I…" Lyanna started and shook her head. "I have to excuse myself. Forgive me father, mother, Ned, Lord Baratheon," and then she was already rushing away from them, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. At least nobody followed her, leaving her the space and time she needed to reorganize her thoughts. Lyanna had disappeared into the woods, stopping at some old tree she leaned against before slowly sliding down to the ground. Finally, tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to hold back a sob.

Never had Lyanna imagined she would one day treat a child badly just because the child's father had made a mistake. The little girl, Mya, bore no responsibility for what Robert had done — and she had looked at Lyanna with so much adoration and awe in her eyes, clearly happy that she was finally meeting the she-wolf she had heard stories about. Stories Ned had told her — Ned, her favorite brother, the one who had always listened to her, whom she could tell everything without having to worry he would tell father. She had been so cold to the girl — she could still see the sad blue eyes when she closed her own grey ones.

Lyanna hid her face in the sleeves of her tunic, crying into them, as she kept thinking about the little girl Ned adored so much. Never had Lyanna seen him act and behave like this — so warm and open, not shutting everyone out with the same cold eyes their father showed to his bannermen.

"Why do I even care?!" Lyanna shouted suddenly, ravens escaping from the trees around her as she looked up and stroked the tears away with force. "I don't love Robert Baratheon! I don't even care about that drunken whoremonger," with these words Lyanna stood up again and kicked a stick away. "And Ned! How could he allow Robert to bring that girl with him?! He is rubbing my face in the fact that he's had other women, that he will never stay loyal," a low growl escaped her lips as she picked up the stick and swung it against a tree like a sword. "Ned should be loyal to me! Instead he acts as if Robert is the best man in Westeros! He's probably even kissing Robert's ass when they're alone," again the branch was swung against the tree with force. "The bastard probably just used him, making fun of Ned whenever he isn't around," the swings got more forceful. "He probably takes every girl Ned has a interest in to bed," and finally the branch broke in two, Lyanna snapping out of her rant as she looked at the branch and then heard voices in the distance.

RobertII

Robert was surprised when Lyanna suddenly excused herself and hurriedly left, his eyes moving to Ned who was also watching his sister — just like all the other Starks. Before he could say anything stupid, Robert bit his tongue, the pain stopping him from opening his mouth before Ned spoke. "I think we should give her a moment," the other Starks nodded at these words, and Robert could feel a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Robert," Jon Arryn said to him, Jon's blue eyes warm and understanding.

A moment later the hand disappeared, and Jon walked towards Rickard. "Lord Stark!" His foster father greeted the other man with a bow. "Lord Arryn," Ned's father gave a small bow in return, before both men started to laugh and gave each other a hug. "Many years have passed since we last saw each other, Rickard," Jon said. Robert watched silently, able to imagine himself and Ned in this position when they were older, and the thought brought a smile to his lips. "Still, we're both alive and well Jon, what a wonder when I think back to our time fighting the war," Rickard added. Again both men laughed before the hug ended.

"Let us go to my tent and have a drink. I have made sure to keep some space so you and your men can set up camp right next to us." Rickard's hand was now on Jon's shoulder, leading him away before he turned his head once more. "Brandon, Benjen. Show Ned to his tent," Rickard ordered before he, Lyarra, and Jon disappeared between the guards.

"You gave us the shock of our lives; I was worried our father might faint," Brandon said with a smirk on his lips as he stepped closer to them, looking down at Mya with a smile. "She is a beautiful girl Robert," the man looked up at him again with a smile on his lips. In this moment Robert noticed two things; the first was the eyes of the Starks — it seemed as if each of them had their own shade of grey, while Ned clearly bore the closest shade to his father. The second was that he could not understand what Ned had always complained about. Ned had told him Brandon had the good looks, the charming smile, and got the interest of all the women, while Ned was just the plain second son. Robert definitely couldn't agree with that. Ned was maybe an inch or two taller than his brother — and it was possible he'd grow taller still within a name day or two — as well as broader than Brandon — it was clear to see at the shoulders and the chest. Robert would also dare to say that his foster brother had a bit more — and bigger — muscles than his older brother. As for the smile… well, Ned just needed to smile more— like he'd done a few minutes ago.

Robert would probably have compared the two brothers even longer if Mya had not squealed in delight, now standing in front of a kneeling Benjen who was giving her a welcome hug and asking her if she really liked the she-wolf so much, as surely she should think the pup was much funnier and more adventurous.

It made Robert happy to see how well Ned's brother accepted Mya; he had feared they might ignore her and treat her badly because she was a bastard, but again Ned had been right: his family was not like the southerners. For the Starks, the pack survived, and nobody would be cast out from the pack.

"Come, I should show you Ned's tent. I'm sure you will love it," Brandon had laid one hand on Robert's shoulder and one on Ned's. "Benjen! You stay with Mya and play with her. Don't leave her alone; you will be by her side at all times," Ned's older brother added before leading them through the northern camp. Robert really hadn't expected to see so many northern houses here at Harrenhal. Normally the northerners kept to themselves, not wanting anything to do with tourneys — at least according to Ned's stories. He saw the banners of Houses Cassel, Dustin, Glover, Manderly, Ryswell, Umber and even the Karstarks — an impressive turnout.

"Father wanted the Stormlands to have their camp next to us, but Lord Connington talked the Lords into camping closer to the castle. I thought father would snap the man's neck right then," Brandon told them with an amused tone. "He still told us to prepare a spare bed for Robert, just in case he wanted to stay here a night or two," the oldest son of Rickard Stark looked at him. "We didn't know you would bring your daughter, but I will arrange to also have a bed for her here." Robert gave a nod to that, "Thank you Brandon, that is very kind of you and your father. I will settle the dispute with Connington later."

The name alone brought Robert's blood to a boil. Connington seemed to worship the Targaryens — and especially the crown prince. Robert had heard more than once that the man might not be interested in women, but only the prince, wanting to impress him with everything he did. Well, too bad he wasn't the Lord of the Stormlands. That was still Robert's title — the title he had inherited from his father, who had died on a mission for the mad man who called himself a king. "Find a wife for my son in Volantis. She must have Valyrian blood, my son deserves nothing less," Aerys had said to his father; Robert balled his large hands into fists at the thought alone. That mad man had sent his parents to their deaths, and he had been forced to watch! He had stood there only yards away, and he could have done nothing to rescue the two people he loved the most.

Then came Connington, telling him and his brothers that they should be proud of their parents, that their parents had loyally served the most generous Targaryen family, the greatest rulers the Seven Kingdoms had ever known. Oh, and he wouldn't let Robert forget that they wanted to make the crown prince happy: a wonderful man who would lead the realm into a new age when it was his time to rule — at least according to Connington. Robert should have simply smashed the man's skull in then and there; he should have taken his warhammer and brought one blow after another down upon the man, until he wouldn't be able to say anything ever again.

Robert felt his shoulder being squeezed by a strong hand, looking into grey eyes when he turned his head to the source. "Memories?" was all Ned asked him, understanding that the name had probably triggered Robert into an internal fit of rage. "You will be able to show him his place later," his best friend continued, and slowly a smile came to Robert's lips again and he gave a nod.

"So," Brandon started and opened the entrance to one tent — it wasn't the biggest, but it wasn't the smallest either — before Brandon continued, "this is Ned's tent. As father wished, we have prepared a bed for you here Robert," Robert looked in the direction Brandon indicated, seeing a bed that would do just fine for him. Then he looked a bit confused at the oldest Stark. "Why am I in the same tent as Ned?" he asked in a calm but intrigued tone. "Should your brother not have some privacy too? Maybe he would like to invite a lady here?" he said, his bright blue eyes focused on Brandon, watching the man's reaction — unlike Ned, the man could not hide anything behind cold grey eyes; no it was easy to see the mischief in them, to see that Brandon would not make his brother's life any easier this moon.

"We forgot to bring an extra tent with us from the north," was Brandon's answer, and — even though Robert oft needed longer than Ned to understand things — he could clearly see that this was either a lie, or Brandon had purposefully left the tent behind . "But quiet, little Ned will surely not need that much privacy Robert," when Brandon's hand touched his shoulder, Robert felt his blood boiling again. "If you need some privacy…" the man slowly started and leaned closer to him, "just kick little Neddy out. Someone will offer him a bed in his tent, or at least father and mother will," and he then had the audacity to laugh.

How Brandon could call Ned — who was visibly bigger than him — 'little' with a straight face, Robert didn't know. Robert had wanted to punch Ned's brother so badly then, but he felt a strong grip on his arm, stopping him before he could even move. His blue eyes again looked at Ned who just shook his head.

"Excuse us Brandon, Robert and I have things to do," was all his foster brother said, before pulling him out of the tent and towards the market which had been set up closer to the castle.