Bastard No More.

"Farewell, bastard."

--William Shakespeare

11th Month. 296AC.

It had been over 4 weeks since the journey to the wall and Lyarra had gotten used to the castle life and how it was.

She had met up with the queen at least 4 times already, when she wasn't of course caught in her chores or the queen wasn't helping her husband with some paperwork he wouldn't be able to do at the wall.

Lyarra wanted to see it.

An over 700 feet wall of ice so close yet so far away.

Sometimes Lyarra imagined herself staring at it whenever she looked outside the tallest balcony in Winterfell.

Perhaps one day she'd get the opportunity.

Lady Stark had also gotten a letter that the retinue would be returning in a few days.

Frankly, Lyarra was excited to hear from Robb what the wall looked like. If they encountered any wildlings, or even went beyond the wall. Though she didn't think that would have happened anyway, what with the king being there.

That was like a political incident asking to happen.

But then, Lyarra became plagued with wariness and worry.

When the retinue arrived, the royal family would be leaving in a matter of days, back to Kingslanding.

She needed to have a talk with her uncle, immediately.

She HAD to.

The unyielding look on her face had apparently been noticed that even Theon had brought it up a couple of times, but she'd managed to redirect his questions whenever they got too deep.

Who would have thought Theon Greyjoy was such an observer. Definitely not Lyarra. He could be dense when he wanted to. And he acted dense most of the time.

Lyarra spent the next couple of days preparing for their arrival, and when the day finally came, she stood a bit further behind, while the Queen stood at the front, Lady Stark next to her and Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon next to their mother.

The retinue had been spotted entering Wintertown already and Lyarra listened as the neighs of horses as well as the sound of their running came closer till they rode into Winterfell, slowing down.

They mostly looked exhausted. Robb looked like he was well on his way to falling off his horse and staying in the snow, but his look of relief at being home made her smile.

As the Queen welcomed her husband and Lady Stark did the same, Lyarra's eyes went towards the crown prince and she did a double take. He looked like he'd gone through the seven hells to be here.

He looked absolutely tired, with slight dark bags beneath his eyes.

Then again, most of the men at arms and even her uncle looked quite similarly to him.

But he looked so different from the normal silver prince he was known as. Almost… human, in a rather funny way.

Lyarra bit her lip, trying to cover he laughter. Oh how she'd heard about her Lord Father's riding ability. To see it once more after a long time, and with the royal family… it was almost hilarious to Lyarra.

He must have felt her stare because he looked around after hugging his mother and stopped when his eyes met hers.

She gave him a small curtsey and he gave her a small nod in return. His mother turned, searching for who had grabbed her son's attention, and Lyarra quickly looked away, walking back into the keep sneakily.

She didn't notice the narrow eyed look Theon gave her as he had watched her interaction with the prince.

A feast was thrown that night, and Lyarra had the opportunity to greet her uncle and talk to him for a couple of minutes before he took his place by the king's side.

Of course it wasn't as large as the last one, but it was more than enough with adequate food and entertainment.

Lyarra had also taken some mashed meat for Ghost to munch on after the feast. He had grown quite a bit as he was nearing his 8th week. He was able to keep up with her too, running by her side whenever she had things to do, though she made sure not to move too fast, or strain him.

She saw it as training of some kind anyways. And he also looked super cute whenever he was next to her, his eyes looking at any and everything, sniffing at strange things and the occasional… marking of territories, but that was talk for another day.

Lord Stark had looked a little grim during the party though, well, grimmer than he usually was, and Lyarra wondered what that was all about. Perhaps bad news from the wall?

It worried her to think so. Were the Wildlings planning something?

Did someone die? Was uncle Benjen okay?!

Looking towards Robb, he'd seemed in high spirits, so it couldn't possibly be that. It probably had something to do with the North.

Lyarra left before the feast ended though, looking forward to speaking with her brother the following day after he rested up.

Seriously, they all looked exhausted.

The following morning arrived with a slight drizzle which made Wintertown colder than usual though the keep itself was warm.

As Lyarra dressed up, preparing for her day, a maid knocked on her door informing her that the Queen would like to see her.

Moons ago, Lyarra would have been nervous at being summoned by the Queen of Westeros. Now though, she highly anticipated those meetings, because it usually felt like an aunt sending for her. Also, she always got more information on her mother during such sessions.

She thought the woman would prefer to spend more time with her son and husband though… but apparently not. They were probably still enjoying being back in a Keep and getting accustomed to the warmth once more.

Lyarra stood, waiting patiently to be allowed in when a maid opened the door and told her to enter.

When she walked in, the queen had a tea pot filled with chai tea and her uncle stood almost in the corner, smiling at her.

She curtseyed at the queen respectfully.

"Your grace… you called for me?"

She asked a bit unsurely, her eyes going to Arthur who threw her a wink as Elia spoke up.

"I did, Lyarra. Come. Seat. We have a lot to discuss."

Lyarra sat down, a grim look on her face, even as the Queen handed her a cup of the tea she had grown to love.

"Thank you, your grace."

She inhaled the spicy goodness of the tea as Elia spoke up.

"As you know, your uncle informed me of your wish to leave the North a while back."

Lyarra nodded, her heartbeat quickening as she raised the cup to her lips slowly.

Was she about to be rejected?

Was this how it felt like?

"Well then, it is my pleasure to inform you that you will indeed be accompanying us back to Kingslanding, as one of my Ladies-in-waiting."

As soon as she said that, a proud look on the beautiful queen's face, the drink seemed to go down the wrong airway as Lyarra choked, coughing out violently and dropping the cup on the table as she beat her chest.

"Oh dear…"

Elia muttered under her breath with concern as she softly patted the girl's back while Arthur snorted in amusement.

"And what a court lady you shall be."

Elia turned to him with a glare before looking back at the young girl who had finally calmed down, though her face was slightly red.

"Lady-in-waiting?? But why me? I have… no idea what to do in court, your grace! I don't even know what my duties would be… there is no court in the North, I—"

Elia raised her hand, effectively cutting the girl off.

"I assure you, it'll be easy. You will learn."

Lyarra stared from her uncle, back to the queen, helplessly.

"Your grace, I am but a bastard. I… I cannot be your lady."

She whispered and though it pained her to admit, it was the truth.

This time, the queen beamed, looking at Arthur who stepped forward with a warm smile on his face as he handed Lyarra a rolled up parchment document.

Lyarra stared at him confused.

"Go on, niece. Open it."

Even more wary than ever, the silver haired girl slowly unfurled the paper, staring a bit blankly at what she read for a few seconds, as if not quite getting the first thing she saw in large letters.

"…I've been legitimized…"

She whispered in disbelief and Arthur grinned.

"Indeed."

"But…"

She looked up at him, a bit lost and believing this to be a dream."

"Lord Stark… he—"

Arthur chuckles softly.

"I see you didn't read the whole thing. You're not a Stark, Lyarra. You are now a Dayne by name. It isn't done of course, but this was an exception the King and Queen were willing to grant due to… circumstances."

Elia nodded with a smile.

"From now on, you are Lyarra Dayne. Daughter of Dorne."

Arthur announced quite strongly, as if trying to assure Lyarra that it was all real. Said girl's eyes widened comically as she turned to the queen who nodded in agreement, and she looked down at her lap, quiet.

Arthur, concerned, places a hand on her shoulder.

"Lyarra… are you alright?"

"All my life… I used to wonder what it would be like, to bear my sire's name. I thought it was a foregone thing. My Lord Father would never go behind his Lady wife's back to do such a thing. But… I had forgotten. I forgot that just like my sire had a name… my mother's name was just as amazing. Dayne."

She finally looked up at her uncle, gratitude on her teary face.

"Thank you, Uncle Arthur… thank you both… so much."

She sniffled out at the both of them and she stood up, moving to hug her uncle tightly which he reciprocated.

Elia smiled shakily as she dabbed tears from her eyes, staring at the two Dayne's in front of her.

'I hope you rest easy now, Ashara… my dearest friend. I'll take care of her.'

Lyarra had headed back to her room after and cried some more. Both tears of happiness, relief and sadness.

She was Lyarra Dayne now. She was a bastard no more. She would be journeying to Kingslanding and beginning a new chapter of her life there, and on the horizon, it looked like she actually had a future now.

But… she would be leaving Winterfell. The North. She'd be leaving everything she'd ever known. She'd be leaving the family she grew up with.

In less than 3 days at that. She wasn't ready. It all seemed impromptu. What to say to her siblings, what to pack for her journey. She didn't even know the next time she'd see them again!

After dabbing at her eyes and looking as presentable as she could, she left her room, hoping to find any of her siblings and inform them before they found out from external sources.

But… she should have known. She should have know news like this spreads like wildfire was said to.

As she walked outside the keep, she saw people whisper and stare around her.

Maids, guards… people she'd grown up around as a child. Some gave her smiles and even some curtseyed or bowed. Yet some openly stared in disbelief or shock.

It was a bit too much for the girl who avoided looking into the eyes of people and finding her way into town to get some things she actively needed for her journey.

She spent quite some time around town, taking it all in and basking in the feel of the cold Northern air, before heading back towards Winterfell.

As the gates got closer, Lyarra hurried towards it only to hear a familiar voice by her side.

"I believe my congratulations are in order."

It was the prince.

He had a smile on his face as he crossed his hands behind him. Ser Gendry standing close by.

"Now you have no need to scream bloody murder in my direction anytime I come anywhere near your presence in public."

Lyarra snorts quietly. Even now, people of Wintertown openly stared at the young pair. Perhaps it was because of their similarities in coloring, but it could also be that one was a prince and the other, a daughter of House Stark.

"There is still the stigma clinging to me like a scent. I believe it'll stay with me for the rest of my life."

Aegon stares at her incredulously, before shaking his head.

"You are incredible, Lady Lyarra."

The silver haired girl ignored the 'lady' and shrugged.

"Thank you…?"

"Mother told me you would also be accompanying us to Kingslanding, as one of her Ladies in waiting."

Remembering that again, Lyarra let out a small moan.

"I don't even know what to say. I'll probably create so much chaos for acting like a proper Northerner in court."

"At least court would be interesting."

Gendry spoke up from behind and Aegon nodded.

"Most nobles come to court for the purpose of gaining the attention of the royal family. As a Lady in waiting for my mother, the queen, a lot of people will probably try to get your attention just for that reason alone."

Lyarra sighed.

"I could have just been my uncle's squire instead."

Aegon smirks.

"Apologies, but I already have that pleasure."

"He could have two!"

Aegon smirks.

"Yes but… I am the prince."

Lyarra gritted her teeth in irritation, slowly wondering just what would happen if she punched the prince.

She'd probably end up getting cut down by Ser Gendry.

Said boy snickered at the expression on her face as he walked by their side now, having been fully integrated into their conversation.

Lyarra sniffed at him.

"Are all Baratheons really like this??"

She snidely asked.

Honestly, Lyarra could remember her two Baratheon cousins from her aunt. When they had visited Winterfell about two years back with their mother and father, they had been menaces. Boisterous, making japes all the time and generally disturbing the peace wherever they went. Then again, they looked so much like their father so of course their attitude just HAD to be like his as well.

Gendry smirked.

"Ah, so you remember Jon and Steffon. They are indeed classic Baratheons. But, perhaps if you ever meet my father and younger brother, you'll realize not all Baratheons are like those from that specific branch. Then again, you might meet my father seeing as he is the Master of laws. Just… try not to engage him in too much conversation. He abhors it."

Lyarra raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Aegon nods with a side smile as they entered Winterfell once more.

"My father rarely ever smiles, and when he does, it scares the babies and attracts demons."

Lyarra and Aegon laughed quietly at the description before the smile dropped from Lyarra's face when she saw Arya walking with a scowl on her face.

She must have felt someone staring because she turned to see Lyarra watching her, her scowl grew as she gave Lyarra an heated growl and angrily marched off.

"Oh no…"

Lyarra sighed out.

"Is anything the matter?"

Aegon asked and Lyarra nodded quickly.

"I… yes. I just, pardon me."

She curtseys quickly running after her younger sister with a shout of her name.

"Arya! Wait up!"

But Arya ran off, dashing past people with her smaller stature and blending in soon enough.

Lyarra stopped, looking around with a soft sigh, a guilty look on her face.

She finds her in the crypts, sitting in front of Uncle Brandon's statue.

Another wild wolf like his sister had been… like her sister was.

"Go away!"

The loud and shaky voice echoed slightly and Lyarra shook her head even though the girl could not see it.

"I can't."

She sat down next to Arya.

"Just go. You're not a Stark anymore. You're not my sister anymore. You're a Dayne. Father told us already. And now you're leaving to go to stupid King's Landing and you'll forget about us and never come back!"

Arya spat out angrily as tears fell down her eyes.

Lyarra frowns, shaking her head firmly.

"That is not true, Arya. I'm still your sister. I might not have the Stark name, but I am still of Stark blood. Of the North. And… you're still my favorite sibling."

She wrapped her hand around the stiff girls shoulder as she continued.

"I'll send letters to you and one day… when I become a warrior, I'll invite you to come join me and maybe even squire for me."

Arya looked up at that, teary faced as she cleaned her most with the sleeve of her clothes.

"Really?"

Lyarra nods as solemnly as she could.

"Indeed. I'll make sure you get to meet other female warriors. Like Mya Stone and her friend. In fact, the prince spoke about his cousins. They're called the Sand Snakes and they're apparently very good fighters."

Arya sniffed, her mood darkening again.

"Oh."

"Oh? What do you mean by that, sweet sister?"

Lyarra raised an eyebrow at her sister who scowled, looking away.

"You're friends with the prince. Is it because of him that you're leaving?"

Lyarra stared open mouthed at her sister for a moment before snorting in amusement.

"Now where did that come from?"

The She-wolf of Winterfell looked down sheepishly.

"I overheard Sansa and Jeyne talking about how handsome the prince was and how he would make the perfect husband."

She shivered in slight disgust much to Lyarra's building amusement.

"I just thought that since you were his friend, you thought the same thing too."

Lyarra looked at her sister oddly.

"The prince had no hand in my decision. In fact, it was mostly the Queen and my uncle."

"Oh."

Lyarra chuckled, hugging her sister into her side and the tiny girl reciprocated.

"Yes, oh. I'm not running off on some romantic adventure. That's Sansa's dream and not mine. Don't worry, all you have to do is grow some more and convince your father to let you train with Rodrik. Or you could always blackmail Robb. Tell him I have a lot of secrets on him, and if he doesn't want one flying around in the South, he should be a good brother and take up training you in my absence."

Arya smiled, nodding rapidly.

"I will!"

The sisters stay that way for a while, basking in their embrace as the gaze of their uncle long since passed, watched them from above.

Later that night, after having a chat with Bran and an even longer one with Robb who had been quite happy for her even though sad she would be leaving, Lyarra began packing her things in preparation for her travels.

She still couldn't believe it.

Leaving Winterfell! The home she had always known. And moving all the way south!

Her uncle had assure her that her living expenses would be taken care of by her Lord Uncle, Alastair Dayne. A kind but stern man from some letters they had exchanged. She looked forward to meeting him someday.

As well as Edric, and her aunt Allyria. Arthur had told her before of her aunt's resemblance to her mother, which in turn meant the two would resemble as well. And she was young too. She was presently 20 years of age. Almost like an elder sister. Lyarra had never had an elder sister before as, she was in fact the eldest of her siblings. That was what she had always known.

A knock on her door snapped her out of her reverie as she dropped one of the grey dresses she was folding on her bed.

"Come in."

She called out, and to her surprise, as the door opened, Sansa walked in with a courteous face and Lyarra stood up.

"Sansa? Is everything alright?"

Sansa cleared her throat, trying to look the adult she wasn't and spoke up.

"Lyarra, I heard about your legitimatization. You're a Dayne now. Congratulations."

Lyarra stared at her sister, a surprised but pleased look on her face as she smiled at the younger girl.

"Thank you, Sansa."

Sansa nods.

"You're welcome."

It was then quiet, as she looked around the room and Lyarra gestured to the chair by her desk.

"Do you um… would you like to seat down?"

Sansa immediately shook her head.

"No. I came here to discuss something else. It is about the queen."

"Oh? Is she asking of me?"

Sansa shook her head, a nervous feeling overtaking her.

"I want you to talk to her."

She cleared her throat again, standing straight and tall.

"I want you to ask her… on my behalf that is, if she would also take me as a Lady in waiting."

Lyarra opened her mouth and then closed it.

Talk to the queen?

"Sansa—"

"Oh please, sister!"

Sister??

She watched as the girl clasped her hands with hers.

"Please, I would be ever so happy! It's been my dream to go to the capital! I could maybe even marry the prince. Mother and father would be so proud!"

Lyarra slumped slightly, a sad look on her face.

"Sansa, I can't—"

The auburn haired girl immediately yanked her hands from Lyarra's, unknowingly cutting the silver haired girl, tears building up in her eyes.

"Mother was right!"

She cried out with a sob.

"Why did I think otherwise!"

"Sansa please—"

But the girl ran out of the room, her sobs echoing in the hallway and Lyarra tried to ignore the small stab of pain in her heart, even as she closed the door to her chambers.

As she sat on her bed, trying to blink away tears of hurt, she glanced down at her thumb, a small red mark from Sansa's finger.

Cleaning it with a small and old napkin, she wondered what Lady Stark would do if she found out that Sansa was crying because of her.

Sweet, innocent Sansa. The girl had a lot of dreams and one of them was to marry a gallant knight who would whisk her off to her happily ever after.

The fact that she thought Lyarra could just demand something of the queen let her know Sansa saw the world in a strange way.

Perhaps Lyarra could talk to the queen… but there was the other problem. Sansa's Lord Father.

Also, what Sansa had said worried her even more.

Her mother was right about Lyarra?

She knew what Lady Stark thought of her… had always thought of her.

At the end of the day, she was still an elevated bastard. Would it affect her in King's Landing?

"Come in."

Lord's Stark called out softly for Lyarra who quickly walked into his solar.

He had requested for her presence early that morning through a servant and Lyarra wasted no time going to meet him.

She wasn't sure what he needed her for, what he wanted to say. Perhaps he wanted to discuss her moving, after all, the Queen wouldn't have been able to demand her without talking to her Lord Father.

He was alone. Thank God.

"Lord Stark."

She curtseyed and he motioned to a chair, which she immediately took, settling down.

"I understand the queen already discussed with you about your legitimatization as well as your new position in her royal court."

Lyarra nodded swiftly.

"Of course, Lord Stark."

"I should tell you… that place is, a vipers nest. Filled with backstabbing and flowery words that mean nothing."

He grimaced slightly as if speaking from experience before looking at her.

"I truly had not wanted you to go."

Lyarra's eyes widened here as she gripped the chair tightly.

"But I heard you asked for a chance to go to King's Landing?"

She swallowed tightly, before nodding.

"Yes, Lord Father."

He then sighed.

"Have I really failed you so much?"

"… father?..."

"You asking to leave Winterfell. Perhaps I have indeed been too distant with you. I do hope one day you can forgive me."

Lyarra looked down at her lap, her jaw stiff as a number of emotions went through her.

Anger, sadness, pain, appreciation…

She felt it all, but she couldn't demand answers from him. Not this time.

"I understand, Lord Father."

He shook his head, as if in pain.

"And perhaps you'd be amenable to opening up to me then."

He smiled softly at her.

"I promised your mother, that I'd do any and everything in my power to make you happy. Perhaps Winterfell is not the answer, and I hope and pray you find said answer wherever you find yourself. Always know that I love you, Lyarra. You are my first born. My little star… the only memory I have left of your mother. Never forget that."

Lyarra blinked back tears as she forced a smile on her face, nodding.

"Thank you, Lord Father."

"So, you're leaving…"

Lyarra looked up and stifled a sigh.

"Not you too…"

Theon watched her from where she sat by the weirwood tree, looking like she had a lot on her mind.

He sighed.

"Well… what did you expect? Not everyone's going to be happy to see you leave."

He said rather softly as he moved to sit next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

"But I am happy. So, the least everyone could do is to be happy for me instead… besides, it can't be forever. I am sure we'll all meet again. It's not a goodbye."

"It seems like it."

Theon mumbled, his mind going back to the stare he witnessed between the prince and Lyarra.

Had he lost his chance?

Was there nothing he could do about it now?

"Are you at least going to wish me good luck at the capital? I hear it's filled with backstabbers and people wanting to get closer to the king and queen. I might get caught in between all those nonsense."

"…If I told you not to go… would you stay?"

Lyarra turned to him, a bit confused.

"Why would you even want me to stay?"

She chuckled slightly as if she thought he was playing a jape on her.

Theon stared at her face, as if permanently engraving it into his mind. Her beautiful colored eyes that always sparkled, her long lashes that usually had some snow in it, her plump kissable lips… lips that drew his eyes, and for a second, he leaned a bit closer as if wanting to kiss her, before closing his eyes with a dejected sigh, holding her chin and startling her as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Theo—"

"Good luck, Lyarra. I hope we see again soon."

He gave her a smile, standing up and leaving.

He dared not turn back, for he wasn't sure he wouldn't fall to his knees and beg her to stay this time.

Lyarra watched Theon walk off, her face turning red and her heart picking up a bit.

Why had he done that?

What did that even mean…?

A rather ridiculous thought filtered across her mind.

Did he… did he maybe…

No.

There was no way.

He was probably messing with her.

"Damn Ironborn…"

She whispered softly, her cheeks still burning red.

So that's it.

They're off to King's and where many things will occur and we can start focusing on many plots.

Next Chapter: Journey To King's Landing. Meeting various figures and plotting behind.

P.s. there's no way Ned would allow Sansa go to the South. Look what happened before he let Lyarra go. Also, Lyarra has no say in who the Queen takes in. Just because she is fond of her does not mean she can tell her what to do. She is the queen first and foremost. Also, Sansa's path will still take her out of the North but not right now. She is still 13.