Looking back, I had been a wild and willful child, more so than I believed until I had my daughter. Wolf blood, my lord father would say of Brandon and I with both amusement and exasperation. Mother had a touch of it as well to some minor degree as the second-born daughter and heiress of Lord Rodrik Stark, who was known as the Wandering Wolf and his lady wife Arya of House Flint. Her elder sister Branda had been wild and restless before dying so young alongside her equally young husband. Mother had nearly died whilst I was a child, what I remember most from that stressful time was the fear in Father's grey eyes during those moons. Though both she and Father have been dead for many years, I remember her long brown hair and her voice, it was a throaty voice that could crackle like thunder when crossed or as smooth as richest velvet as she sang to us.

I had adored my childhood. I was free to run and ride my horse as I wished. The Wolfwood and the misty moors were mine and Benjen's to play in. The four of us would frolic in the Godswood. It became only the three of us, once my sweet brother Eddard left to squire for Lord Jon Arryn in the Vale. I remember it was when I first dreamt of being a knight like Eddard would likely become. I had a strange fascination and disdain for the South. The disdain mostly came from my Mother. The fascination came from all the stories and songs about the South. They were so thrilling and vibrant in comparison to the often-dull North. Mother thought they were filling my head with nonsense. Father and the Maester thought they were encouraging a desire to marry a southron lord in me. No, I wanted to be a grand knight. I wanted to live a life worthy of a song. But I was never allowed to wield a proper sword, even the wooden ones eventually were barred from me. Father indulged in my riding but was stern about me learning to fight. Even Mother would not press the issue on my behalf. Perhaps she had but failed as she failed to keep Eddard in the North.

"Why the Vale, Rickard? That is so far. Ned can learn to be a knight just as well at White Harbour. The Manderlys are loyal bannermen to us and I can visit him. I have little time to spend with our children before they are grown and marry. Don't send our Ned away."

I remember her parting words to Ned before he went off to be fostered at the Eyrie.

"Remember, the words I told you once at my bedside, a lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Be safe, Ned. I love you so fiercely. Write to me." Mother had burst to tears as she kissed her second born goodbye. Ned would later echo Mother's words in that somber manner of his as if he should have known at two and ten, what those words would mean.

As children, Benjen and I hid two wooden swords in the godswood and sparred with one other secretly. My secrets were his and his were mine. My little brother and I grew even closer as Brandon grew more interested in girls. He no longer wanted his little sister and brother tagging along in his exploits with his other friends. I loved my three brothers equally but I always had a soft spot for my blue-eyed little brother. Brandon and I were too similar, which created a strong bond and caused us to have terrible rows at times. One secret of Brandon's, I happened to discover was his forbidden relation with Lady Barbrey Ryswell, whilst he was fostered at her lord father's keep. I remember feeling pity for the Ryswell girl who loved my handsome elder brother and hoped to marry him. The way her face lit up at Brandon as we raced with Lord Ryswell's finest steeds. I never knew the depths of Brandon's feelings towards her. He may have truly liked Barbrey or simply felt lust for her as a fifteen year old is bound to feel. I had not yet learned the difference between love and lust.

Our maester died, when I was eleven or so and a new one came from the Reach to replace the sweet old man. All I knew about Maester Walys was that he was a bastard son of a Hightower girl and encouraged Father's southron ambitions, much to Mother's fury. My lady mother had wept when Eddard had been taken from her to be fostered at the Vale. Mother's bitterness would later be the driving force to keep me from becoming betrothed to Lord Robert Baratheon, the young Lord of the Stormlands. She vowed she would not allow another one of her children to ride south. Father, Maester Walys, Lord Robert, and even Ned approved of the match. Mother was half Flint and the both clans of the Flints had lived comfortably in isolation. A true northern woman who did not care to see the world beyond her borders. So Mother had despised the South though she had never stepped a foot there.

"Lya is my only daughter! How dare you?! Was this the plan all along to send our Ned away and marry our only daughter to the boy who happens to be also a lordling squire of Lord Arryn's? What's wrong with the men of the North? Are they not worthy enough to marry one of our children?"

"We must make advantageous marriages for our children to strengthen the North. We don't produce enough to feed ourselves. Lyarra, my love, Winter is Coming."

"I know our words, Rickard. I have agreed that Brandon should marry Lord Hoster Tully's eldest daughter since he is our heir. But I shall never agree to marrying Lya to Lord Robert Baratheon or any lord from the south."

"Ned thinks highly of Lord Robert," pointed Father.

"They say he has already fathered a bastard daughter in the Vale, Rickard. Even if he has not, do you truly believe our Lya will ever become a proper southron lady? She can't sit still and she has not accomplished any ladylike refinements. She'd make an excellent Master of the Horse. Our daughter spends more time riding her horse than she does stitching or helping me manage the household."

"She's young, there's time to learn such things," argued Father, ignoring the bit about Robert's bastard.

"Not willingly or happily."

"It's about time, she learnt to do her duty to our House."

"Like I did when I married you. Oh I loved you then and love so you much still, but I will not lie to you or myself that I was not at all bitter that my sex barred me from sitting on my beloved Father's seat. That because Branda and I had not been born a boy and neither of us could not rule based on our own right, I had to marry you whether or not I liked you or not to keep our House going. All I ask is that you let our daughter have a say if she wants to marry Lord Robert or not."

"It's the duty of fathers to arrange marriages for their daughters."

"Aye, but it is also a duty ensure the happiness of loved ones. To see and accept them for whom they are. You must know that Lya is ill suited for the south. She's a northern girl through and through."

"Are you questioning my love for Lyanna? I would die for her or any our children. I am doing this out of love."

"And ambition. Don't scowl at me, Rickard. She'd happier here in the North married to one of our bannermen or their heir. Aye, she does know how to manage a household, but she won't care for the rest. I birthed a miniature of my lady mother with your hair. Lya will act impulsively if she does not get her way."

"I have indulged her too much."

"If you did then so have I."

"Lord Robert is very keen on Lyanna. He won't take the breaking of the promise of a betrothal well."

"Aye, but the grumbling of the Northern lords needs to be soothed as well. Their pride is fiercer than that of one man's."

Mother had won. But Father was right as well; Lord Robert was loudly disappointed that he would not wed I, the wild northern beauty. I was relieved knowing I would not ever marry Lord Robert. Oh I admit I had found him handsome in the brief visit he made with Ned. But I disliked him for his ability to profess 'love' to me then leer and fondle a serving girl within minutes. I had told Ned of my reservations of Robert's ability to remain faithful after marriage. I thought after he complimented me on my riding and the stories Ned told him of me, perhaps he would not care if I wanted to wield a sword like a man. But he laughed, loud booming laughs at my confession. He had stung my youthful pride and I swore that day I would take any opportunity to escape marrying that giant boar. I burst into happy tears, when Father told me in his solar that I would not wed Lord Robert. My nightmare of marrying Robert had disappeared, but my own southron dreams had not died as well.

A betrothal had been struck between Lord Robert and Lord Tywin Lannister's daughter Cersei some moons after. She's all he ever wants to talk about besides hunting, Ned had wrote. How golden her hair is. A Northern betrothal for me was not as easily procured. Maester Walys (and I assume Father) had tried to arrange a marriage with Prince Oberyn Martell as a final attempt but the Dornish were unresponsive. Mother and I found that most of the Northern lords were married or too old. Many of their heirs were also already promised to another or married as well. Many lords scrambled to break off betrothals in hopes of marrying their heir to me. Thus, began a series of conflicts between the Norreys, Umbers, and Karstarks. Father had to issue that longstanding betrothals had to be upheld and send some men to keep the peace.

The search for a suitable northern husband was proving difficult. I would not have minded remaining free for a few years longer, but Father mentioned Elbert Arryn one evening. A second or third son would not do for the sole daughter of the liege lord. So I had the limited options of Greatjon Umber, the heir of Last Hearth, the crannog Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch, and the recently widowed Jorah Mormont, the heir of Bear Island. Only two of the three had replied back to the letters. I learnt later at the tourney that Lord Howland Reed had been away at the Isle of Faces. I had personally met none of them but I had met Jorah Mormont's aunt Lady Maege at a harvest feast, a few years ago. I remembered asking her questions about fighting off wildlings and Ironborn. I chose Jorah Mormont casually before Father and Mother could announce a betrothal with Lord Umber's son.

"The Mormonts are an old and loyal House but they are much poorer than the Umbers," warned Mother. "I know Jon Umber seems terrifying, as he said to being close to seven feet tall, but his castle will have more comforts." I shrugged.

"By the description of Umber, I shall likely die trying to birth a babe of his. My hips are not meant to carry such large babes." My breasts had grown to an ample size but my hips had only marginally changed as I grew. At fourteen, I could still pass for a boy if I wanted to.

"You have the height of a Flint but not the stockiness. You and Ned are slim," agreed Mother. "I think you should meet him before your father makes a decision." I agreed, hoping to be betrothed before my brothers and I went to Harrenhal for a tourney. Incase I returned betrothed to a suspiciously widowed Lord Bolton.

From what I recall of meeting my husband, the day had been sunny. It was a good sign. Jorah Mormont arrived along with his lord father, Lord Jeor Mormont. Lord Jeor Mormont spoke of joining to the Night's Watch soon as he felt it was about time Jorah ruled as Lord of Bear Island.

"It is a great honor to be your betrothed, my lady." Jorah's voice was gruff. Jorah looked quite like a grizzly brown bear. He was tall and at seven and twenty he was beginning to bald. We were linked arm in arm and I could feel how well muscled he was. It was awkward with some nervous silences but how many first conversations between arranged couples weren't awkward? The song about a bear and a maiden fair popped in my mind as songs were always on my mind. As I tended to do a lot, I simply blurted out words without thinking.

"I'm afraid we won't be like the song. I apologize for my lack of fair hair, my lord," I jested with a smile. "But I do love honeycakes." He cringed awkwardly.

"Tis' a silly song, my lady. You must know what a beauty you are with your dark hair. Your skin is fair, fair as the first snows. We can tweak the words to suit you." He talked so seriously but his eyes were merry. I flushed and changed the subject back onto him.

"I recall from making an acquaintance with your lady aunt some years ago that you are quite the swordsman, my lord." He modestly shrugged.

"Not much to do on Bear Island but to train. You never know when wildlings or the damn Ironborn are going to attack." I tried to frame a question about my role as the future lady of Bear Island. "Are you wondering if you will get to fight?"

I nodded and was slightly taken aback when he halted our stroll. His aunt must have remembered our conversation at the harvest fest and had noted my complaint of not being allowed to learn how to wield a sword with my brothers. For he had gifted me a small simple sword and mumbled gruffly about the lack of adornment but I shushed him.

"It is the loveliest gift I have ever received, my lord." I kissed his scratchy bearded cheek, which I noticed had reddened. Love did not instantly bloom that day for either of us. The gesture of the sword, however had an impact on me. I didn't hate or desire him, but I had vivid dreams of running hand and hand with him through strange narrow streets after bloody fight or through dense woods. Smiling at one another with the blood of our opponent's splattered on our sweaty faces.

I went to the tourney at Harrenhal betrothed to Jorah Mormont. We would be wedded, when I turned sixteen as Mother wished. Jorah was plain and unhandsome to me, as he did not meet my expectations of a handsome princely knight from stories and songs that filled my head. I tried to be resigned to a husband and life that did not meet the same stories and songs. I did not think at the time if Jorah had similar feelings of resignation in marrying me.

Jorah Mormont was not the most charming of men but neither was Father or Ned. Despite my disappointment, I did not feel any misgivings about marrying Jorah Mormont like I had with Robert. True, he was twelve or thirteen years older than I. Jorah's age never bothered me, it was the lack of romance and love that bothered me. I have spent a great deal of time wondering if things would have transpired differently if Jorah had gone to the tourney with us? I had taken the small sword with me to Lady Whent's castle and it kept me from making a choice that I fear I otherwise would have made.

There is no word in the Common Tongue to describe my first experience at a tourney. I left Harrenhal with various emotions and feelings that overwhelmed me. I was confused, embarrassed, horrified, entranced, exhilarated, and depressed. I had left entranced and half in love with the Crown Prince. Depressed that the love was futile. I was horrified with myself for behaving so with a married man, especially after he had humiliated his wife, Princess Elia by naming me queen of love and beauty instead. For sneaking out of my tent in the night to kiss a married prince. Fourteen was certainly not my most wisest year of life.

I had been so frightened that someone would catch me as the Knight of the Laughing Tree and take me to the King. I hated the King for ruining my fun with his paranoia. But the prince would not have taken notice of me.

"Show yourself, knight," Prince Rhaegar had demanded, but I had spurred my horse on faster before he could take hold of my reins. I was eventually caught by the prince trying to destroy evidence of the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

"I wasn't plotting to kill your father, the king. I just wanted to compete and teach those Freys a lesson. I swear it, Your Grace!"

After staring at me for a few moments, his response surprised me. "You are brave, my lady. It is shame, you cannot continue to compete."

"Will you tell the king that it was I?" He picked up my painted shield.

"No need, my lady. I think this shall suffice." I had let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"You are Brandon Stark's sister, Lady-?"

"Yes, I am Lyanna Stark."

"It was a pleasure to meet the Knight of the Laughing Tree. I hope to see you again, my lady." We did see each other secretly, at night. The prince and I talked all night about everything. I told him how his song moved me to tears and told him of my dreams of love and adventure. Prince Rhaegar told me about the burdens he had placed with. I sat there fascinated, watching him as he spoke his sorrow of not having a second daughter and the way the moonlight shone on his long silvery hair. He often spoke about a strange prophecy concerning the fate of Westeros. His words were so eloquent and beautiful as the words he had sung. I always left him each night to return to my tent in a dreamy stupor.

"You have a place in this prophecy, Lady Lyanna. You were destined to meet me. I, fire and you, ice. I am growing more certain of this. You are warrior like Visenya. A northern one." He kissed me against a large oak tree. "You are so beautiful."

"You were destined to be more than a minor lord's wife." Those words stung me with shame. The very mention of my imminent marriage ruined the moment. I felt the weight of the sword, Jorah had given me. I had honour. I was supposed to be honourable by nature. I was a Stark, honour had been instilled in me by my parents. What was a Stark without honour? The sword burned me with guilt, feeling heavy. I should have said something that night. I should have told Rhaegar that it had to end and I had a duty to another man and to my family. I should have reminded him of his duty to his wife, but that shouldn't have been necessary. I did see again him briefly the morning of the fateful day he became the champion of the tourney. He had only asked a seemingly harmless sartorial question, about the roses stitched on my gown. I had told him, my lady mother had stitched them as they were my favoured blue roses of the North. He had smiled a knowing smile, which confused me until late that afternoon.

Everyone had became so quiet after Prince Rhaegar rode past his wife, the Princess and stopped before me. I was in a state of shock, when he presented me a crown of blue roses, naming me his Queen of Love and Beauty. I couldn't dare look at anyone, Princess Elia, my brothers, or my new friend Howland. I made brief eye contact with the prince, screaming with my eyes. Why? Why did you choose me? What if someone makes a connection between the size of the mysterious knight and I? How could you humiliate your wife? I am betrothed to another man! It had been nauseating to have all eyes on me. In the tourney ring, I hid behind mask of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, but at that moment, I was bare and exposed. I did not stand up and put the crown on my head nor do I remember even mumbling a word of thanks. This is every lady's dream, but why am I not happy about it?

I must have looked agitated to my lady mother, when Brandon, Benjen, and I returned to Winterfell from the tournament. She came to my chamber, frowning with concern as I was laid in bed staring at my wilting crown of blue roses and my sword.

"It has been quite a scandal, but I assure you Jorah won't fault you for the crown prince's actions. Your father and I certainly don't. Don't listen to these rumours, my sweet girl. They aren't true and we know that. They are cruel vipers and vultures to prey on an innocent and honourable young lady like you. This is why I don't like you children going south." I burst tears and cried in Mother's arms. You are wrong, Mother. I desire another woman's husband and I kissed him. I cuckholded my betrothed in my thoughts. What is innocent or honourable in that?

I busied myself with the wedding plans, although it was taking place in two years time. Mother and I prepped the castle for the impending arrival of Catelyn Tully, Brandon's future bride. I written letters to Jorah but never mentioned the tourney or the Prince and his letters back never asked about Prince Rhaegar or the tourney. I wanted to forget it all but I couldn't because a part of me wished to cherish the moments I spent with Prince Rhaegar under the great oak tree. I was a girl infatuated with a prince and dreamed of being a warrior queen like Rhaegar said I was to be.

"Lya, are you happy?" asked Ben one evening.

"Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you love the Prince?" I took a few moments to answer. My feelings had felt like the love sung by the bards.

"I shouldn't. It'd be easier if I didn't."

"Do you hate Jorah Mormont like you hated Robert Baratheon? You don't seem complain about him."

"No, I don't think I do." I wish I did. It would make it easier to love Prince Rhaegar if he was detestable like Robert.

Father and Brandon rode south to Riverrun for his wedding to Lady Catelyn Tully. Mother declined with the complaint of headaches, wishing Brandon a merry wedding feast. She gave Brandon her beloved silver earbobs to give his bride. An heirloom, having been worn by many Lady Starks before her. After kissing Father and Brandon farewell and wishing them a safe journey, Mother stood by my side watching them ride away.

"I have saved something more special for you. It is not as old as my earbobs, but I hope it will remind you of me. My little wolf maid." I hugged Mother and she kissed the crown of my hair.

A few nights later, Benjen and I had snuck out to go on a night ride on our horses. We rode to our favourite spot to sit and stare at the stars and the moon on clear nights. We heard stopped chatting, at the sounds of approaching horses. Benjen's blue eyes widen with fear. We had been found, but by whom though? I thought immediately that Mother or someone must have noticed we were out of bed and sent out a search party.

"Ben, get the horses, hurry," I ordered urgently as I strained to see in the dark shadows. I unsheathed by my sword as my heart pounded.

"I think it's the Prince and Ser Arthur Dayne with others. I can see their silver hair." I looked back at my brother mounted on his gelding, pointing at the direction. What was he doing here? I was struck with the feeling to flee back to the safety of the grey stone walls of Winterfell and a desire to embrace the man who enraptured me. Prince Rhaegar atop his white stallion rode within sight followed by four members of the kingsguard.

"My lady mother did not inform me of a royal visit, Your Grace."

"I had to see you again, Lady Lyanna," Prince Rhaegar said. I smiled weakly.

"Well you saw me, Your Grace. Ben and I should be getting back to the castle. Our mother tends to rise early."

"Come with me, Lyanna." Prince Rhaegar dismounted his horse and strode towards me.

"I can't just ride off with you."

"Don't you wish to be a warrior? You told me so yourself. Our daughter will be greater than the first Visenya alongside my Aegon and Rhaenys." My heart raced at the word warrior and hearing Rhaegar's melodic voice again. I didn't hear the rest.

"But the babe would be a bastard and my sister would be shamed," argued Ben. I had almost forgotten about Benjen behind me. It dawned on me all the words he said about three headed dragons and his loveless marriage with Princess Elia.

"A baby? You travelled all this way because you want another child. I am not going fight in a battle in this prophecy of yours, am I? I am just a girl you need to have a baby because the Princess cannot have another."

"Targaryens can take a second wife, it has been done before. Our Visenya won't be a bastard, I assure you. I love you, Lyanna. Beautiful, fierce Lyanna. You love me back, you know you do. Together we shall be ice and fire."

"Maybe I do love you. But I didn't want to marry Lord Robert Baratheon because I knew he wouldn't stay faithful after marriage. I can't, I won't do that with another woman's husband. My lady mother fought my lord father to break the betrothal. I am going to honour her efforts and become a minor northern lord's wife."

"Our honour, and our parents' even my Elia's happiness is a small price to pay to ensure darkness doesn't destroy Westeros." I couldn't bear to see or imagine my parents' disappointed or worried faces if I disappeared. Mother's cries would ten times worse than it had been when Eddard had first gone to the Eyrie. Gods knows what Brandon would do in the heat of the moment if he heard I had disappeared in the night with the crown prince. What would Jorah do?

"I am a Stark, Prince Rhaegar. I will honour my word and betrothal. I won't go south with you. Not willingly." I glanced at his armed kingsguard warily.

"You are making a grave mistake, Lyanna," warned Rhaegar sorrowfully. One of the kingsguard advanced causing me to raise my sword in defence and Ben to shout my name in worry. "Your duty is to protect women and children. I would never abduct you, my lady." And he didn't but I rode my horse hard and fast back to Winterfell only looking back to check if Ben was still there following. Both of us were out breath as we cooled down our horses.

"What was he going on about darkness and needing another child? Why you? I thought he was a decent prince defeating Barristan the Bold at the tourney. Is he mad like the king?"

"Promise me, Ben, you won't tell anyone about what happened tonight," I begged.

"I promise, Lya. You haven't told Mother or Father I have been the one nicking the lemon cakes from the kitchens." I was happy for the digression.

"No one likes them but you so it's not some great travesty. I don't understand your love for them. Applecakes and honeycakes taste so much better."

Ben wrinkled his nose. "Urgh, no they don't. Anyway, are you going to answer my questions and tell me exactly what happened at the tourney?" I bit my lip and sighed as we snuck back inside, heading to our chambers.

"I shall but not tonight."

"Fine, if I hadn't been there, would you have gone off with him?"

"I-I don't know Ben."

"Brandon, Ned, Howland, and Jorah would have gone and saved you. Jorah could take the Prince. He beat Brandon in the training yard, remember?" I nodded absently. Yes, they would have searched for me to try to save me. But who would save me from this hopeless love for the prince and dreams of a grand life?

I was married a year earlier than originally planned. Mother had gotten ill again and this time she did not get better. Father was devastated in his quiet manner. His long stern face seemed sterner and he seemed quite older overnight after Mother died. Winterfell felt less like my home after she died and Catelyn Tully, Brandon's southron wife had took over the duties as the Lady of Winterfell. The castle was different as well, a sept had been built for Catelyn, since she prayed to the New Gods. I never hated or resented Catelyn for filling in Mother's shoes. I was just too numb to care. Catelyn was a maternal woman as she spent most of her life looking after her two younger siblings after her lady mother died. She enjoyed mothering Brandon and her's first child, a girl named Arya. Mother had been pleased with the name choice. In comparison to Catelyn, I felt like I still needed to be mothered.

Ned had come home for her burial. We sat just the two of us by the edge of the hot pools.

"Brandon wants me to stay to help him run Winterfell," announced Ned after we had stopped our tears and finished our prayers.

"Are you staying or are you returning to the Vale or the Stormlands?"

"I haven't made my mind yet."

"I am getting married. I hope you stay for that at the very least." Ned nodded and I rested my head on his shoulder. "She never got a chance to tell me about wedding nights or birthing. I'll have to go to the septa or Catelyn Tully."

"You weren't present for our niece's?"

"Gods, no. I was busy drinking with Brandon and Ethan Glover, whilst we waited. Mother shooed me away anyway."

"You will make a fine mother one day."

"We'll see. Have you been told, Ben wants to join the Night's Watch." Ned nodded sombrely.

"He's too young. Father wouldn't allow it."

"I know. Catelyn has offered to have Ben fostered at Riverrun as her brother is of similar age. He's more determined now I am leaving for Bear Island soon."

"It's just grief. He'll forget about his thoughts of joining." Grief was a strange thing. Ben and I want to run away. Brandon clings to his lady wife. Father grows sterner and converses with Jon Arryn almost daily about something none of us have a clue about. I stared up at Ned's long face that was similar to my own. How do you grieve Ned?

I almost screamed when I woke feeling arms around me. I stopped when I remembered I was married. I was now Lady Lyanna Mormont of Houses Stark and Mormont for almost a whole day. I am no longer a maiden, I am now a fully wedded and bedded woman. So much changes had happened in a short period of time. Brandon had become a father, Mother had died, and now I was married. I lay awake reflecting on my wedding and the surprisingly merry feast afterwards. The bedding ceremony was even more mortifying than I had ever imagined it would be. I shuddered remembering Roose Bolton's groping and his unsettling eyes before Brandon and Ned shoved him away.

"Cold?" My new husband's voice was very gravelly in the morning.

"I am fine," I replied as he pulled more furs around me. I didn't turn around to face him so we lay there silently until I asked, "What do we do now?" I had been a small child the last time I attended a wedding. He had been married once before so I decided should follow his lead.

"I suppose we should get up and dress then go to the Great Hall to break our fast." With the bloodstain sheet behind us to prove I was indeed a virgin and was not spoiled by Prince Rhaegar at the tourney. I sat up looking for a gown. Jorah got up out the bed, standing fully naked as he stretched. I sat there watching until I realized I should put on a gown.

"Need help with your dress?" asked Jorah as he donned his clothes.

"Just with the top buttons and the lacing."

"We don't have ladies' maids at Bear Hall. My aunt never saw the sense in them though I assume you are used to that sort of thing. I can lace your gown for you in the morn or a servant girl can learn quickly." His voice sounded a bit ashamed.

"You seem to do it well enough. I never cared for faffing over gowns and such." I'd rather dress in less cumbersome clothes, like simple dresses and boy's clothes. As he laced me, I noticed the red stain on the sheet. I frowned remembering the pain was not as terrible as Catelyn said it would be. In fact I felt very little. Was that proper?

"Ready, my lady?" My new husband kissed my cheek, waking me from my thoughts. I quickly combed the messy curls with my fingers. I gave Jorah a look before taking his proffered arm.

"My name is Lyanna, you should use it now. Or Lya if you'd prefer."