notes: This is a sequel to The Private Journal of Lysa Tully and the second part in a series. You might like to read that first, but if you don't, what you need to know is that a teenager from our world after a car crash woke up in the body of Lysa Tully a year before the Harrenhal tourney. ASOIAF books don't exist. She is a bookworm, know-a-lot sort of person who's also a tad judgmental about a variety of Westerosi men. Hoster Tully sent Lysa to Casterly Rock to foster due to her reckless behaviour and she was betrothed to Jaime Lannister. He has not made a decision about joining Kingsguard yet, which changes things.

So, since that's out of the way, hi! I really hope you like this. I received a lot of great reviews on the first part in the series, which I am very, very thankful to. My wish is that I get even better feedback on Uprising, since I've worked twice as hard on this. As I've stated before, this story will be as many chapters as the first, but it will be told from multiple points of view and each chapter will be considerably longer than before. I will try my best to make each sound like a different perspective, not only a narration device, and my ultimate goal is to improve my writing manifolds by working on the tales of each of the characters I write.

A thousand hugs to my editor, Appirinia, who helped me out with a lot of black spaces in this chapter. I really owe her a lot.

disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones of A Song of Ice and Fire, as much as I wish I did. They belong to HBO and George R.R. Martin.

The Wolf Maid (Lyanna)

Castle Darry sat stout on the horizon as they neared the end of their second month on the Kingsroad. It was certainly not among the more impressive keeps Lyanna had seen in her fourteen years - in fact, it was smaller by far than all the northern castles she had visited. Castle Cerwyn and even Torrhen's Square seemed more remarkable than the compact home of the utterly southron House Darry.

Martyn Cassel, who had volunteered himself as her and Benjen's guardian, ensured that she knew not to expect any hospitality from the residents of the castle. "We ought to keep to our camps and let the southrons keep to their hearth," he had told her with a meaningful look. "They'd have had to play host to more parties than us by now, and I'm rather inclined to believe that they may not have much courtesy left for ours, more strangers than friends that we are."

Lyanna had not seen much sense in it. "But the Tullys will be joining us," she had countered. "The Lannisters, too, Brandon said. Surely the Darrys will not insult three Great Houses all together? Their own liege lord, even."

She had received only a dismissal in return. One of the things she most disliked, truly, was being treated as a child that she was not, and Martyn, who had been a part of the Stark household from before Ned's birth, saw her as just that. She was four and ten, not a swaddling babe! Nearly a woman grown, wedded and bedded, though Lyanna loathed to think about that.

Robert was going to be at the tourney, she knew. She had known that ever since the raven had first arrived addressed to her lord father bearing the seal of House Whent of Harrenhal. Her betrothed would never miss a chance to be among the greatest knights of the realm, fight for glory and of course, feast and wench endlessly without anyone asking him to stop. Perhaps he would even father more bastards. Gods, what am I to do with him? Lyanna cursed. Her distaste for him had not faded with time; as a matter of fact, it had only grown. Even if her family - save for little Ben, of course - refused to see the vile, unappealing side of the Lord of Storm's End, she could see it as clearly as one could see snow in the North all of winter.

The wolf-maid shrugged the thought off. I shall not worry about this just yet, she decided. For now I shall think of the greens of the Riverlands, the wonders of Harrenhal and meeting Ned again.

Her second brother would be meeting them only at Harrenhal itself. Though he was now eight and ten namedays old, he preferred the breeze of the Eyrie, his foster home, to the cold of Winterfell - something she had never truthfully understood. Along with Robert Baratheon and some of his other foster brothers, he had departed from the Vale and made better time than Lyanna's party, thus proceeded on without waiting. She had felt incredibly disappointed at learning the news.

That disappointment had gone only when she was assured that Brandon's party would still be meeting them per schedule. Lyanna's eldest brother had accompanied them until the Crossing of the Green Fork, from where he had journeyed hard for Riverrun, stopping only a few times. While he did not boast of any sort of affection for his own betrothed, Catelyn Tully, he had admitted to Lyanna that she would make a good wife and Lady of Winterfell when the time came. Lord Tully always delighted in welcoming his daughter's husband-to-be, and Brandon had reasoned it would not hurt to visit once before the wedding and accompany the Tully party to Harrenhal.

Her hope had been that he would have reached Darry, their rendezvous point, before her and Benjen. "We wouldn't have to wait, then," she had explained to her younger brother when he had asked why. He was only eleven namedays old, a pup still, and he did not quite share the impatience she often felt.

Alas, they had been the first to arrive. The restlessness caused Lyanna frustration so when a man arrived to tell that Brandon was nearing their camp among a group of Tully-Lannister riders, she rode out with Ben to meet them halfway.

Nothing could match what Lyanna felt when she was riding. The horse galloping, the wind brushing past, the myriad of smells that she encountered… Her father often thought her a fool to demand more freedom, more independence and chided her, saying that she knew naught of such things. He was wrong, though, because Lyanna knew freedom very well - she knew it as what she felt every time she was on a horse.

Ben and Martyn Cassel's son, Jory, rode hard behind her to catch up. The sound of their horses' hooves banging sharply against the River Road, however, did not slow Lyanna down one bit. She saw the sigils at a distance soon enough and put a name to them. The leaping silver trout of the Tullys on waves of red and blue. A proud golden lion on red; House Lannister. The white Lydden badger on fields of green and brown. The prized red stallion of the Brackens on yellow and brown. The shimmering purple unicorn of House Brax on cloth-of-silver. A burning orange tree on smoke; House Marbrand. A black dragon on white quartered with two golden eyes and a gold ring on black; House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest. A silver Mallister eagle on a purple field. Finally, a staunch grey direwolf on white: House Stark. Brandon, Lyanna thought, speeding up toward the banner of her own family.

Her brother's eyes lit up with joy on seeing her, his dark hair windswept and his long nose looking pronounced in the afternoon sun. The other lords and knights and retainers with him were all immaterial to Lyanna when she eventually closed in on Brandon.

"Lya!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily, when her horse came to a stop near his. "Oh, Lya, my little wolf!"

Lyanna narrowed her eyes. "I'm not little, Brandon," she snapped. "Is this any way to greet your favourite sister?"

Her brother laughed again. "You're not my favourite sister," he said. "Ned is."

She couldn't help but grin. Even though it had been scarcely weeks since they'd last seen each other, she had missed him. Brandon was the brother most like her - "wolf's blood," her father said. Lyanna fought with him most among the family, but he thought like her, behaved like her. How could she not love having him around - when he was not thinking from his loins, that is?

By the time Ben and Jory caught up, the two of them had traded some more quips. It was almost as though they had never been separated.

"Benny!" Brandon greeted when the youngest Stark joined them. He looked around Benjen, as though searching for someone. He gave Jory a nod, but turned to his brother with feigned puzzlement. "Where's Old Nan? Thought she'd be with you, pup," he japed.

Benjen punched Brandon lightly and frowned at him. "It's Benjen, not Benny," he said. The heir to Winterfell laughed in response and as did Lyanna, ruffling Ben's hair. "Sure it is, Benny," she smirked, knowing how much her little brother disliked being called that.

Jory's nervous glances towards the rest of the party brought the Starks out of their reunion. Lyanna looked behind and first spotted a red-haired girl looking mildly amused beneath the Tully banner. She knew exactly who that was.

"Lady Catelyn!" she beamed. "Brandon's told me much about you."

The girl widened her eyes in surprise. Lyanna thought she looked less Brandon's age than her own, and wasn't quite as striking as her brother had described her to be, not at first glance at least. The blonde knight riding beside her, who again looked of a similar age with Lyanna, began sniggering. He was clad in red and gold, Lannister colours, with the sigil of a lion on his cloak. Lyanna remembered Brandon telling her that Catelyn's younger sister was betrothed to the Lannister heir who would be journeying with them from Riverrun, but there was something absurd about the situation that she could not quite put her finger on.

Lady Catelyn rolled her eyes at the Lannister and gave him a slight push, something else Lyanna found absurd. Brandon had described his betrothed to be very prim and proper, and somehow the familiarity she expressed with her lion friend did not seem like something the woman her brother had told her of would do.

The mystery was solved seconds later when Brandon intervened. He held a humoured look on his face, and combined with the looks everyone else in the party bore on their faces, Lyanna thought herself quite lost.

"May I introduce you to Lady Lysa Tully," Brandon smirked, referring to the girl Lyanna had thought to be Lady Catelyn, but was in fact her younger sister. He then turned to the blonde knight Lady Lysa had shoved. "And Ser Jaime Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock, her betrothed."

Lyanna felt herself go red in the face. Stupid, she cursed herself. "I'm sorry, my lady," she apologised. Brandon hadn't said much about Lysa Tully, but she found herself hoping that she wasn't some uptight southron girl like the Waynwoods she had met in the Vale once. They were to be family soon, after all, and Lyanna had no desire to make an enemy of any of the Tullys.

"It's alright," Lysa Tully assured her.

Ser Jaime Lannister still wore a smirk on his face. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady," he chimed, with a small bow. He was handsome, Lyanna saw, with golden hair and green eyes like all Lannisters and sharp features to top it off. She wondered if he was as good with a sword as Brandon, or if he was as fond of wenching and drinking as Robert. Somehow she doubted it.

"Catelyn stayed back at Riverrun," Brandon explained. "She's preparing for the wedding. Only her sister and her uncle accompanied us."

As the group approached the camp, Brandon introduced Lyanna to more men and women, or rather, they introduced themselves while Brandon looked on and shared a jape or two with his friend Jeffory. Ser Gerion Lannister, Ser Jaime's uncle, was a jovial man who she decided she liked. Ser Brynden Tully, or Ser Blackfish as everyone called him, seemed even more interesting. Ser Addam Marbrand and Tytos Brax were part of the Lannister party, both heirs to important castles in the Westerlands, and Leranne Lydden and Alysanne Lefford were two girls that behaved more twins than the cousins they were. Lord Jason Mallister, Brandon's friend Jeff's older brother, was an imposing man with scarcely more than a brief greeting. Ser Karyl Vance had a winestain birthmark on the right side of his face and half his neck, which made Ben dub him "Bloodraven Vance". This caused many of the House Vance retainers to begin looking at Lyanna's brother with disgust.

"Don't bother," Lysa Tully advised Ben when she noticed. "Brynden Rivers did not treat the Vances of Wayfarer's Rest well after one of the Blackfyre rebellions. They only dislike that you compared their lord's heir with him."

Lyanna looked on as Jaime Lannister snorted. "Don't ask her how she knows such a thing, or why," he told Benjen. "I don't think she'll be able to answer anyway."

Lysa, as she insisted on being called, gave her betrothed a look. "It's not a very knightly thing to be jealous of maidens, Jaime," she replied swiftly.

He smirked. "My fair maiden, what's to say it wasn't meant as a compliment?" he questioned.

Lysa raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't reply. Lyanna thought she could see a smile forming on the Tully girl's lips as Jaime Lannister's handsome face broke into a grin.

"Will you be riding the lists, ser?" Lyanna asked the blonde. His grin didn't fade as he turned to her.

"Riding the lists? Oh, I intend on winning them," he declared confidently.

Lysa was not impressed. "Yes, yes. You'll ride the lists, win and then crown yourself the Queen of Love and Beauty, won't you? Or maybe you'll crown one of those Kingsguard superheroes of yours. Arthur Dayne? Isn't that his name?"

Ser Jaime stared at her with mock hurt. "I don't idolise him that much," he protested. Then frowning, he conceded, "Alright, perhaps I do. What is it to you? Are you by any chance envious?"

There was a troubled look on Lysa's face. "No, I…" she trailed off at that, turning her eyes away. Ser Jaime scowled.

"Lysa, if this is about -" he started, only to be cut off.

"It's been more than a month since you first told me," Lysa said calmly, slowly looking back at Ser Jaime, whose smile was utterly gone from his face. He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again, thinking better of it.

Lyanna turned away from the two of them, conversing in low tones. She had no desire to bear witness to any quarrel between betrotheds. The two of them seemed like nice enough people to be with, but fights like that quite bored Lyanna. She went to Brandon's side instead, where he was delighting Jory with the plight of some ward of Lord Hoster Tully's.

"He wished to challenge me! Me! Barely five and ten namedays old, smaller than Benny here, and he wished to duel me to death for Catelyn's hand," he guffawed.

"What did you do to him?" Lyanna asked her brother, curious. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

Brandon snorted. "I would have, and I wanted to, but Catelyn's sister and Lannister thrashed some sense into him. There wasn't a moment he didn't glare at me, to be sure, even after Ser Blackfish chastised him."

Jeff Mallister nodded. "We even planned to show him his place, Brandon and I did, and we would have had Lady Catelyn not stopped us. The boy should have known how far above his station he was trying to reach."

As it turned out, 'Littlefinger''s grandfather had been a sellsword who had been granted land on the Fingers in the Vale for loyal service to the crown. By the time the sun went down, Brandon had told her every detail of the pranks he had planned to pull on the boy. Benjen was left wide-eyed as Lyanna's stomach ached with laughter. Eventually many others joined them by the fire - genial Tytos Brax, rangy Ser Addam Marbrand, and Ser Gerion Lannister who ended up telling those gathered about his exploits in Casterly Rock as the youngest sibling of five. Lysa Tully, otherwise not much of a participant in the conversations, persuaded her uncle Ser Blackfish to speak of the time he had camped at High Heart with Lord Tully and Lord Whent when they were barely of age.

"We'll go to High Heart after the tourney, Lya," Ben said, determined. "Before Brandon's wedding. We'll camp under the stars like Ser Blackfish."

The time between Harrenhal and the wedding was much of a blank slate, and Lyanna knew she wished to do just Ben had said. The two of them were to stay with the rest of the Tully party for a half a moon's turn after the tourney had ended, after which they would ride for Riverrun. A month hence Brandon and Catelyn would be married. She knew not what Ned planned to do in the interim, but Brandon had a half-made plan about going off with his friends for a trip through the Riverlands. Was she able to convince both of them to not leave her and Ben alone, she decided she would demand a night at High Heart. The wolf-pack under the stars, Lyanna thought. It almost sounds like a song.

When she went to bed that night, she once again thought of how splendid the tourney was sure to be. Only one supper she had had by the fire alongside some people she barely knew, knights and lordlings and ladies alike, and it had delighted her more than she would admit. The tourney at Harrenhal would have hundred more people to meet, all of them more exciting than the next! That was not even to speak of the jousting and the melee. As long as Lyanna stayed away from Robert, she knew she would enjoy herself.

She wondered if there would be a mystery knight. She voiced such to Lady Lysa the next day when they had started their journey on the Kingsroad.

"I don't know. Does it matter, either way?" the Tully girl shrugged, puzzling Lyanna. "Mystery knight or not, they'll do the same as everyone else in the end."

"You aren't fond of tourneys?" Lyanna asked.

"They just don't appeal to me so much. Grown men wildly hacking at each other, endangering lives? Not really my idea of sports, or entertainment at all."

Lysa Tully, she decided, was bit of an absurd person. She was ladylike to an extent, opinionated to an extent, friendly to an extent - she was a lot of things, in fact, but all only to an extent. Whenever Lyanna spoke to her, she answered and later even started asking questions in return to keep their conversation going, but she did not try very hard to hide the annoyed or judgmental looks that often came upon her face. Lyanna almost decided she would ignore that, but then the younger Tully sister gave Brandon a firm look of distaste which Lyanna did not like at all.

"Why did you look at him like that?" she snapped, unable to take it anymore.

The redhead looked at her strangely. "What are you talking about, my lady?"

"Brandon," Lyanna emphasised. "I saw that look you gave him."

"I don't think I know what you are talking about," Lysa insisted.

"Oh? Well I think you do, my lady. How dare you slander my brother like that?" she replied.

Lyanna was certain she would have made the riverlander apologise to Brandon if not for the interference of Brynden Blackfish, Lady Lysa's uncle. He must have seen an argument in the making and thought to prevent it, calling out for his niece just in time.

"- can't go around glaring at everyone and everything plainly because you do not like their ideals, Lysa," Lyanna heard him say in low tones when they had camped later. "Harrenhal may be your cousins' home, but you are not going to have the freedom there to do as you please. It will not be Riverrun or Casterly Rock, and it would do you well to remember that, lest you make yourself enemies before you know how to handle them."

"You're just like Lady Genna, Uncle," Lady Lysa had replied bluntly.

Lyanna never learnt who Lady Genna was, because in that moment Ben came rushing to her. "Lya! Lya! You must see this!" he jumped, pulling her to an opening where Ser Addam Marbrand was wrestling with Jeff Mallister.

"A dragon on Marbrand!" one of the Lydden retainers announced proudly.

"I'll take that," said Jory. "Mallister's got a hungry look about him tonight."

Marbrand tackled his opponent to the ground and for a second it almost looked as though he had won until Jeff grabbed his leg and pulled him down. The two of them struggled against each other, the spectators increasing by the minute.

"Jeff!" Lyanna cheered. "Show him his place, Jeff!"

The way some of the men surrounding the two wrestlers sniggered at her was irritating to no end. She knew they felt that as a woman she did not belong in their world; that her life was embroidery and dance, not swords and lances. She was a woman, they insisted, and a woman's duty was to bear her lord husband an heir and raise his children. Why does there need to be such distinction? Why can't men and women be equal and be allowed to do as they so wish?

Lyanna rode better than Ned and had a keener way with a bow than Brandon, but her father would never let her fight in true like the warrior women of Bear Island or like the Queens Visenya and Nymeria. "A lady's war is waged in the birthing bed, Lya, not on a battlefield," her father had told her more times than she could remember. "Why can't it be waged on both?" she had asked indignantly, but he had not given her a true response, only another insistence that a sword had no place in a woman's hand.

It's not fair, she thought. Women never get a choice. Not even about who they marry.

Her sweet brother Ned had always spoken highly of his friend, Lord Baratheon, but even then Lyanna had not been impressed one bit by the blue-eyed, raven-haired stormlord. "The guardsmen say he has a bastard in the Vale," Jory had whispered to her during the feast, but even before she had learnt that, Robert had seemed like a hollow, careless man - he claimed he loved her without really knowing her, made suggestive gestures to serving girls at Winterfell and had not put his goblet down from dusk until dawn. She could not fault him for being fond of women and wine, for Brandon had shown already that he was, too, but Lyanna also hated how he treated her as though she was a thing to be admired from afar. I am a woman, damn it, she wanted to scream. She hated thinking of the fact that she would soon have to wed the man.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Ben asked her when they were three days away from Harrenhal. "About…"

He trailed off, but Lyanna knew right away what he was talking about. "I'm not scared of Robert, Benny," she said with narrowed eyes. I'm not scared of Robert, but I despise him all the same. I am worth five of him. Ned told her often that his dear friend would not remain the same after their marriage; that he would change his ways for her, but she was sure it was not quite so simple as that. If he does not respect me now, he will not respect me when I am his wife.

Lyanna knew she was not the only one with a difficult betrothal at hand. Brandon's old sweetheart, Barbrey Ryswell, had recently found herself pushed into an arrangement with his foster brother, the new Lord Dustin. It had been a sudden match that Father had said had been forced on Lady Barbrey after Lord Ryswell had realised that the was no chance left for his daughter to become Lady Stark. Jory had told her once that there were whispers about Willam Dustin favoring men in his bed to women, which had certainly not helped matters.

Ser Brynden Blackfish's tale about his refusal to get married, too, Lyanna knew well. A part of her dreamed of a world where she would refuse to wed Robert and her father could do nothing about it. After all, a marriage at swordpoint was no marriage at all. Father will disinherit me if I bring shame House Stark by doing such, she thought. Then perhaps she could flee to Essos and train as a bravo in one of the Free Cities. Myr and Lorath sounded far better places than Storm's End, anyway. Perhaps she could disguise herself as a man there and be a sellsword in Bittersteel's Golden Company. She could watch the Dothraki fight up close, with their arakhs and scythes… Lyanna could even try to be a Faceless Man!

But in the end she was only Lyanna Stark, the third of Lord Rickard and Lady Lyarra's children, sister to Brandon, Eddard and Benjen. Her dreams of ending the betrothal to Robert Baratheon would have to wait until the greatest tourney in living memory was over and done with.

The next few days passed as a blur of grasslands, smells of pretty southron flowers, days riding by the rills between Darry and the God's Eye and nights along the fire. Regular entertainment was provided in the evenings by Jeff Mallister, who challenged more than a handful of knights and men-at-arms to wrestling matches and won nearly all of them. He eventually got so overconfident that he even asked Ser Brynden Tully for a match and was soundly defeated, to his own embarrassment and everyone else's relief. Brandon and he soon decided to drink to his loss and ended up telling bawdy japes that Lyanna found herself laughing to until she was too tired even to go back to her tent to sleep.

Another evening, Brandon and Jaime Lannister dueled each other and to the surprise of the northern party, the Westerlands heir easily won against her brother, near four years his elder in years. It was the only time Lady Lysa joined the spectators, not actually cheering for her betrothed but merely watching with amusement on her face. Lyanna privately thought the amusement was more because of Brandon's loss than Ser Jaime's victory and resisted the urge to confront her about it, but only barely. The Tully girl didn't engage much with others at all - she sticked to the Blackfish, Ser Jaime, his uncle, and the Marbrand heir, sometimes humoring clingy little Alysanne Lefford with her attention. The day after their argument she had tried to seek Lyanna, but had received naught in response. They might be family once Brandon and Lady Catelyn wed, but the wolf maid had no fondness for people who decided they were better than everyone else around them. It was a wonder Lannister put up with her; then again, Lannister was much the same anyway. Lyanna rather hoped Lady Catelyn was unlike her sister, otherwise she might be eaten alive by northern lords like the Greatjon and his uncles.

Harrenhal was a black monstrosity seen from miles away, but the fierceness it possessed was toned down when she saw the colourful tents that had been put up beside the God's Eye lake. Sigils and banners were everywhere Lyanna looked, gaping at the sight before her. Knights and retainers flooded the grounds in their finest as women held close to each other and laughed merrily. Ned is there somewhere. Some of the arenas were still being set up outside the castle which was a ruin in all but name, with five towers protruding from the remains. What dragons leave behind in their wake, Lyanna thought. She pitied House Whent for having to call the dilapidation a home.

While Martyn Cassel and few other northern men left for the grounds with their riverlander and westerlander counterparts to erect tents, Lyanna and the other higher-borns entered the wreck through its largest gate to gain the guest right, even if it was merely a formality. Waiting for them in the courtyard, having been alerted by a rider, was a small group of people raising a banner of black bats on a field of yellow. The tourney's hosts.

The woman at the head, Lady Whent, looked to be of an age with Lyanna's lord father, with greying red hair and a calm disposition. Besides her were two men Brandon's age, both with brown hair, and a very comely maiden as old as Lyanna herself. Everyone dismounted and greeted the Whents, curtsying and bowing, exchanging pleasantries with Lady Shella and her children; even little Ben and Brandon did so. Lyanna found herself growing impatient.

"My brother Ned," she said to one of the brown-haired men after a clumsy curtsey. "He arrived with Valemen no more than two days ago. Do you know where I can find him?"

He looked startled, but recovered quickly. "Eddard Stark? Yes, he'll be with Lord Baratheon and Ser Elbert on the grounds. He likely knows not about your arrival."

She paced to Brandon, who was making the Whent girl - Alysanne? Alyssa? - blush as red as her hair. Ben was looking on besides him, ever the wolf pup.

"Brandon!" she hissed. "Come, we'll search for Ned."

"It seems my family has need of me," Brandon smiled at his newest acquisition. "I believe we shall see each other around, my lady."

Lyanna dragged her brother away from the red-faced girl, who was approached by a delighted-looking Lady Lysa and the man Lyanna had asked about Ned.

"What would Lady Catelyn think if her sister told her you were seducing her cousin?" she asked him. Brandon rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't seducing her," he said.

Lyanna gave him a look. "Sure you weren't, brother. Sure you weren't."

"You know you love me, Lya," Brandon laughed.

"If you keep this up, you'll be of a level with our dear Robert, and you know just how much affection I bear for him," she replied sweetly, cracking both her brothers up even more.

The siblings Stark made their way out of the gates of Harrenhal and onto the patches of fresh grass outside. The view was truly nothing like Lyanna had seen before, and the sheer amount of Houses that seemed to be present shocked her in part. It looked like each of the Lords Paramount had brought contingents to Harrenhal, other than House Greyjoy that is. The sun and spear of the Martells, the rose of the Tyrells; the sword and star, the golden tree, the striding huntsman of their bannermen… And finally near the center of the camps, Lyanna spotted the falcon and moon of House Arryn, the runes of House Royce and the stag of House Baratheon. She knew that was where her brother would be.

"Ned!" she called out, rushing towards the banners, Brandon and Benjen tailing her. The frock she'd had to wear instead of more comfortable breeches was making it difficult, but she ran nonetheless, calling for her brother.

When he appeared from the tents, Lyanna saw his usual solemn expression waste and be replaced by genuine joy.

"Lya," Ned let out, pulling her into a hug. "I've missed you so much."

She hugged back tightly. "I've missed you too."

Ned lifted Benjen up and tickled him, and then hugged Brandon. The wolf pack reunited, Lyanna thought, smiling. Just as it should be.

It seemed though that she had jinxed their reunion, for soon after, Robert Baratheon arrived at the scene, already looking half inebriated. Lyanna had to hold back a frown as he laughed with Brandon, tickled Ben just as Ned had done, and gave her a wide smile.

"Lya," he said, bowing to kiss the back of the hand she had offered him. Don't call me that, she wanted to snap. Don't act as though you're my family, because you're not, and if I can help it, you never will be.

It would have hurt Ned, though, had she said something like that. Her sweet brother could not see Robert's vices as she did, and truly hoped for them to have a happy marriage. He disapproved of her hatred of his friend, insisting that Robert wasn't as bad a person as she saw him. But he is, Ned, why don't you understand? she wanted to say. She could not for the life of her find the strengths in his character. He was kind-hearted, she supposed, but what good was a kind-hearted husband whose heart was open to every woman in the world? What good was a kind-hearted lord who spent most of his time away from his own lands while his younger brother ran them in his place? What good was Robert at all?

The Stark encampment was set up after some time, and Lyanna sat talking with her brothers as sundown approached. Ned had moved his belongings from Robert's tents, and told him that he would be spending time with his family, but Lyanna was still nervous about the oaf joining them for supper. Truthfully she did not mind most of Brandon's and Ned's friends - Jeff Mallister was always a good source of entertainment; Kyle Royce always had a wicked jape up his sleeve; Elbert Arryn was a sort of unremarkable person who laughed at everything others said but never said much himself. Denys Arryn was older than all of them, but when he joined, there were always haunting stories he narrated about his childhood living in a lonely holdfast in the mountains. Brandon's squire, Ethan Glover, was a boisterous boy her age, who if a bit overwhelming, was enjoyable to be around. It was only Robert. It was only him she did not want with them.

"Why does it have to be him?" Lyanna had asked her father when he had told her about the betrothal. "Why can't it be another of Ned's friends?"

"His House will bring us much influence in the south, Lya," Lord Rickard Stark had said pointedly. "No other match will do the same."

Lyanna had been certain that wasn't the entire answer, and even now she doubted it.

"The king is yet to arrive," Ned was telling the others. "Prince Rhaegar and his wife are to come with him. Lady Whent told us the tourney will not start until they are here."

She scoffed. "It's not our fault they're late to arrive," Lyanna said. "Why should we wait for them to come?"

Ned gave her a warning glance. "Had King Aerys heard you say that, I reckon he'd have had your tongue cut out," said Brandon

Ben was confused. "Why would he have done that?" he wondered, looking between his siblings.

"He's not entirely sane," Brandon told him matter-of-factly, while on the receiving end of another of Ned's warning glances. "What? It's true!"

"It is not our place to judge," the Stark spare said quietly.

"Doesn't Prince Rhaegar ride the lists?" Lyanna questioned, changing the topic. She had heard the prince was a very handsome man, accomplished in many arts, including war.

"Aye," Ned confirmed. He tended to be the Starks' source on knowledge about the south, having been bred south of the Neck himself. "He's even won before, I believe."

"Do you think he wins only because his opponents don't want to beat a Prince of the Realm?" she prodded. It seemed like something most of the southron knights would do. Had I been born a man, I would never hesitate to defeat a foe, prince or not. Ned shrugged in reply.

"I'm going to ride the lists, when I'm older," Ben announced. "Will you be jousting, Ned?" he asked.

Lyanna's elder brother gave a slight smile, but shook his head. "I'm not much of a horseman," he said.

"And you, Brandon?" Ben turned to the eldest Stark present.

"I will," he nodded. "Willam and I jousted much in Barrowton, and I want to see just how good I am."

That was something Lyanna admired much about Brandon: his eagerness to prove himself, to see where he stood among everyone else; his thirst to improve and be the best. She liked him most for that rather than the ample wolf's blood Father claimed she and Brandon shared.

"There's always the fact that when I win," her brother said then, "I can finally crown Ned my Queen of Love and Beauty, as he deserves to be!"

Lyanna laughed, joined in by Benjen. Ned accepted the jape in good humor and smiled faintly while Brandon described the crown of roses in great detail. Yes, she decided. The wolf-pack together. This is how it should be.

next chapter: The Lionknight.

after-notes: Please do drop a review if you have time. I would love to know what you thought about my Lyanna and everything else I've written about. Plus, they make my day! xx