Chapter 4 - Winter's Storm

Lyanna - Winterfell

Lyanna was silent as the newest member of the house spouted stuff at her. Nothing about the north fell from the septa's lips and if Lyanna had to recite the houses of the Crownlands once more that day, she would probably commit murder... or at the very least a grievous wounding. Alone, as Benjen was currently undertaking his lessons with the Maesterand with Karlyn south, most likely in Kings Landing by now, Lyanna was not enjoying her lessons nor the new situation. She rolled her eyes as the lecture moved into the religion of the seven. And jumped a foot as a switch of birch cracked down on her table.

She glowered at it and then raised mutinous eyes to the Septa.

Septa Merlara ignored the look. "Lady Lyanna, recite the Seven."

Which was her way of making sure Lyanna remembered the 7 faces of the God of the Seven.

"The Father, The Mother, The Warrior, The Smith, The Maiden, the Crone and the Stranger" She said in a very bored voice.

"And what is the other name for the Father?"

"Father Above." came the recitation.

"Very good. Now, recite the prayer of forgiveness."

No. That was too far. Lyanna stood. "I am a follower of the old gods, Septa Merlara. I do not worship the Seven, nor will I ever."

"Your lord father brought me here to teach you the ways of the south, not to allow you to continue your heathen ways." Merlara replied icily.

"No Sept is here. I will not recite what you want."

"You will!" The woman all but yelled. "You will, and you will learn! Your husband will expect..."

"I don't care what some boy wants! I am not going to recite that dumb prayer! And you can do nothing to make me!" Lyanna then did something she had never done, she reached out, and pushed her table over towards the Septa, making it fall scattering ink and quills and books. And making the septa jump back with a startled cry.

Lyanna didn't hang around to see if Septa Merlara would attempt a punishment. She left the turret room and stalked down the spiral stairs. She had a way of getting rid of that woman. It was dirty, underhanded but, desperate times called for desperate measures. She ignored guards and headed for the rookery. She was going to send a Raven. And then they would see how long that bloody woman lasted in the north.

The Raven she sent went to one of the more outspoken families in the North. House Umber.

She didn't sign it. And she wrote carefully, using her best script. She was not good at writing like Karlyn, nor did she enjoy it, as her sister did, but when she put her mind to it, she made sure she was neat and coherent. A simple message was what was sent.

"Septa Merlara, newly arrived at WInterfell, attempting conversion of Stark children to faith of the Seven. - This must not happen"

She had to write it several times, making sure the spelling was correct, and had even used a book of Maester Walys' to get the correct spelling on the word conversion. But once it was written, she had, using the chart in the Rookery, found the correct Raven, attached the message and sent it off.

She knew she was in trouble from the shout below in the courtyard as the Raven took wing. She knew she was in trouble when her father appeared, red faced and all but snarling at the top of the stairs of the Rookery. Lyanna didn't bother to hide her ink stained fingers, or the smudges on her skirt as he entered. She stood tall, chin lifted, and faced down her angry sire.

"What did you do now!?" He snapped at her.

She crossed her arms, knowing of his daughters, she was most likely the most secure. Karlyn despite being the most like their mother in looks, was not the wild wolf that so charmed her father like Lyanna. "I sent a raven" she replied.

"TO WHERE?!"

"To who father." She said, knowing that his wolf's blood was up. "I sent a letter to Carlis Umber."

Carlis was the eldest daughter of house Umber, and a friend of both Stark girls, and despite the distance between Last Hearth and Winterfell, in summer, the ravens between the girls had often flown. House Umber had even ridden down to Winterfell for the funeral of Lady Stark.

Rickard had to struggle for breath. The Septa had come to him, filling his ears with his youngest daughter's wilfulness and refusal to learn. "Why would you write to house Umber?" he asked struggling for calm.

"Because I wanted to."

"What did you write?" he asked knowing, that as it is Lyanna, it was probably going to make him mad.

"Why?" came Lyanna's reply.

"Why?"

"Why do you want to know?" Lyanna asked him.

"LYANNA!" Rickard bellowed now. He was starting to think he had sent the wrong daughter south. Karlyn was just as exacerbating when she was in a mood. But Lyanna was taking it to a new level.

She huffed and crossed her arms again. "I don't like that Septa. She wants me to worship the seven."

"She does not" came his automatic reply.

"Does too, father. She wants me to learn all about them and learn their prayers! I am a daughter of house Stark and I worship the Old Gods, as do you, Brandon, Eddard, Karlyn and Benjen. I am NOT going to worship the southeron god!"

"Lyanna, what did you write to Carlis?" he gritted the words out from between clenched teeth.

"That the septa was trying to make me worship the Seven"

That was when the walls of the Rookery shook with the yelling of Lord Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North. Some of the words he used were not for the faint of heart, and the outcome, resulted in Lyanna being locked in her bedroom for a week, with only a servant attending to her needs.

Benjen, all but ignored by his father after his sister was sequestered, convinced a servant to send a message to his brother Brandon. It flew that very night.

When she was released from her seclusion, she was summoned to the great hall, where, dressed in her formal dress, she found her father enthroned on the Throne of Winter. She had spent the past 7 days and nights in complete silence, not even the servant sent to wait on her, had been allowed to speak to her. But Lyanna didn't care. It had been seven days without that dumb Septa. Who, she noted was not present.

She paused before her father's throne, curtseyed as her sister had taught her. He watched her with cold grey eyes, so like her own. "Lord Umber is on his way here." he told her. "Along with Lord Karstark, Lord Bolton and other lords of the north. YOUR actions have called into question, our family's ability to rule the north!"

"Truly father? I thought it called into question the reason for that horrid Septa." Lyanna replied before staggering back a step as her father bellowed "SILENCE!"

He took three breaths to calm himself. "YOUR actions give me cause enough to ship you off to the silent sisters! Or maybe even to.. don't you roll your eyes at me young lady!" He snapped. "But I won't. Your betrothal to Robert Baratheon is important for our house! And you will be marrying him." He glared. "Septa Merlara will remain here. YOU Will learn what she has to teach you. And if you refuse, then you will spend more time in your room! Now get out of my sight. You will be summoned when the lords of the North arrive to confess your actions before them!"

Lyanna tossed her hair and strode from the room, all wounded afront and anger.

Once the girl was gone, Septa Merlara stepped out of the shadows with Maester Wayls. "I had hoped she would calm down some, my lord" Wayls said softly.

The septa merely sniffed. "Will she comply now My Lord?"

"Lyanna is not Karlyn." Came the lord's reply. "But she will bend, eventually."

The septa looked at the Maester and raised an eyebrow. The Maester sighed and headed back into the shadows.

OFF

Authors Notes and Review responses:

Oh Guest, what a silly person I was to miss that crucial spelling/grammar mistake. Fixed it. Does that increase your enjoyment of my work or should I expect more flames? If it is flames, let me direct you to Essos, they are looking for fire worshipers there.