A month had passed from the time that Lyarra had accept her imminent marriage. That meant there were only a few days yet to pass before the Royal's would arrive in Winterfell.
For the past four weeks, her mother had hounded her over her duties as a wife and the plans for the wedding, causing Lyarra to avoid her at any cost. She'd managed to avoid her well enough. Sansa had fawned over her older sister getting married to the 'most handsome man in Westeros'. Robb was irritated over his sister's upcoming wedding, he didn't want to see her go, while Arya was annoyed that she had to share her home with people she didn't know.
Lyarra climbed the stairs to the balcony, nearby the courtyard where her father stood. He was wearing his large wolfskin and his usual attire of a brown tunic and breaches. She stopped beside him, her eyes finding her younger brothers in the courtyard below.
"Your mother was looking for you again."
"I know. But I'm not hiding, she is clearly not looking hard enough." Lyarra said, rolling her eyes.
Her father let out a sigh and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose causing Lyarra to regret her sentence.
"You agreed to the marriage, the least you could do is to change your attitude," he told her roughly.
Lyarra began picking at the wood on the rail in front of her, avoiding his gaze. She knew she was making it hard on her parents when it came to the marriage, but that was because she refused to give up who she was for some stupid man. She knew her parents would want her to conform, to become the lady her mother wanted her to become, that her mother had tried so hard to mould her into when she was only a child.
"I am sorry father. But you know I don't want this marriage. You know I don't want to give up my freedom for a husband who may lock me away to care for his children. I don't want to give up who I am."
Her father put a hand on her shoulder, "I know, and if it were up to me, I would wait for you to decide, or not wed you to anyone. But this is the king's orders."
Lyarra sighed and nodded, "I know..."
"You need to go to your mother."
Her father turned away then and strode off, leaving Lyarra standing on her own.
"Must go see my mother…" she ripped a splinter of wood off the rail and pelted it away, "oh great fun this will be."

She found her mother in the main hall of Winterfell. The king and queen's arrival was only days away and her mother had been fretting. The room was filled with people who were decorating the room and preparing the tables. Her mother walked through, Maester Luwin following her.
"We need plenty of candles for Lord Tyrion's chamber. I am told her reads all night." Catelyn was saying.
"I am told he drinks all night." The Maester commented.
"How much could he possibly drink? A man of his stature."
Lord Tyrion was the Queen's younger brother. He was a dwarf, a very short man, which earned him the nickname 'the imp'. Rumours were that he whored and drank himself and the Lannister family's gold away. He was said to be an intelligent man, even when drunk. In Lyarra's opinion he would probably be the most interesting Lannister, other than the Lord of Casterly Rock, and would be the Lannister she got along with best. She couldn't see herself getting along with her husband.
"Lyarra!" Her mother called loudly. Her voice was tense, as it usually was when speaking to her eldest daughter.
"Mother. You were looking for me?" Lyarra asked curtly.
"I was. We need to speak."
Lyarra let out a huff but followed her mother as she strode from the hall.
"You have avoided me since you found out bout your marriage. You need to learn and know your duties as a wife."
"Mother, I really do not care."
Catelyn turned on her, her face holding the angry expression she reserved for Lyarra only, "you will care when Tywin Lannister decides he has no use for you after you have birthed the heir to Casterly Rock. He will have no use for a woman who disobeys and doesn't do her duty to her husband and children," she snapped angrily.
Lyarra stared at her mother, whose nostrils were flaring and eyes were burning furiously with anger. Her hands were curled into fists by her sides.
In only a few words, Lyarra had angered her mother enough to scare herself.
"I'm sorry mother."
"Go. I don't want to look at you," Catelyn said plainly, the anger still evident in her voice.
Lyarra scurried away down the hallway, not looking back.

Lyarra sat in the courtyard, watching her brother, Bran, as he ran along the stone walls of Winterfell. He'd overheard someone say earlier that day that the King and Queen's league would be marching through Wintertown within a few hours.
The moment he had found out, he dragged Lyarra into the courtyard and begged her to climb the walls with him to watch for them. Lyarra had refused because she'd chosen to wear a dress, having heard earlier in the week that they would arrive that day. So, she watched Bran from below, Hunter and Bran's unnamed wolf sitting nearby and watching.
Something Lyarra shared with her mother, was her worry for Bran when we climbed. Lyarra knew that one wrong step and he would fall and likely injure himself. The thought of ny of her siblings getting hurt scared her, she loved them far too much. However, she didn't try to stop Bran or her other siblings from doing the things they wanted to do, she would simply watch them if it was dangerous, go with them or tell them to be careful.
Bran was a sure-footed boy, Lyarra and her father jested that Bran was climbing before he could crawl. And since it had been impossible to get him to stop. Almost every day he would run about the castle, finding a new place to climb. He had climbed almost everywhere he possibly could, except the broken tower. Lyarra had made him promise not to climb that particular tower because it was falling apart. So far Bran had kept his promise to her.
"Lyarra! I see them!" Bran yelled from above.
"Come back down here then!"
Bran grinned widely at her and started jumping his way back down, just as Catelyn had come into the courtyard. She glanced at Lyarra, then at the pups who were both looking up at Bran as he was climbing down.
"Gods they grow fast." She said, then turned to see what the two pups were looking at, "Brandon!"
"I saw the king! He's got hundreds of people."
"How many times have I told you, no more climbing?"
Lyarra rolled her eyes and walked towards where her brother was climbing down, ready to help him.
"But he's coming right now! Down our road!" he climbed onto the roof of one of the stables and slid down over the edge.
He dropped down in front of Lyarra who had her arms out ready to catch or help him if he needed it. Lady Catelyn had also walked forward. When Bran turned around to look at her, she leaned down to look him in the eyes.
"I want you to promise me no more climbing."
Bran looked down at his feet, causing Lyarra stifle a laugh. Her mother's eyes flicked to her disapprovingly, then back to Bran.
"I promise," Bran said when he looked back up at his mother.
Lady Catelyn stood up straight with a look of amusement on her face, "you know what?"
"What?"
"You always look at your feet before you lie."
Bran smiled and gave small laugh.
"Run and find your father, tell him the King is close."
The boy ran off, his pup following him. Catelyn turned to Lyarra.
"You need to stop encouraging him to climb. One day he will fall."
Lyarra's eyes narrowed as she looked at her mother, "do not think to assume you have any idea what I am doing. For your information, I am standing here to make sure he doesn't fall. You won't get him to stop climbing, he always will, it's a part of him. But you can restrict him. I've made him promise not to climb the Broken Tower or any other area that may be unsafe for him. And he's held to that."
Catelyn's eyes widened as she listened to her daughter snap at her. It was a usual occurrence, but still shocked the Lady of Winterfell when her eldest snapped at her tht way.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to inform my siblings of the King's arrival."
Lyarra whistled for her pup and stormed off, bumping her mother's shoulder as she did.

Lyarra stood between her father and Robb, in line with the rest of her family as they waited for the king to ride through the gates of Winterfell. Arya was missing, Lyarra guessed she was in the crowd somewhere wanting to see the Royal family arrive first.
"Where's Arya? Sansa, where's your sister?" Catelyn fretted.
Sansa gave an uncaring shrug and continued to watch the gates.
Lyarra smirked as she saw her younger sister come rushing to stand in line, wearing a soldier's metal helmet. Ned stopped Arya as she went to run by him.
"What are you doing with that on?"
He took the helmet off her head and handed it someone behind him. Arya took her place between Sansa and Bran, pushing her brother over with a harsh 'move'.

The sound of hooves on the ground filled Lyarra's ears as the first of the King's men came through the gates of Winterfell. The men wore white clocks and silver armour. Riding behind the men was a boy no older than Sansa with golden hair.
"Prince Joffery," Lyarra murmured to herself.
Both her and Robb glanced over at Sansa who was eyeing the Prince with a look of what could only be admiration. Lyarra glanced back at the Prince who was looking right back at the red-haired girl. He gave her a smug looking smile, one that gave Lyarra her very first impression of him, and it wasn't a good one.
Beside the Prince was a man Lyarra could only guess was the Hound, Sandor Clegane, the personal bodyguard of Joffery. His helmet was a black bulky thing in the shape of a dog's head. He was a large man, and had a huge great sword on his hip.
A red and golden carriage, decorated with Lannister banners, pulled by horses came through the gates next. Lyarra assumed instantly the queen and two youngest royals were in it. Lyarra couldn't help but notice a lack of the Baratheon sigil on the carriage.
Behind the carriage came the King. Lyarra studied the man who could have once been her uncle through marriage to her aunt Lyanna. He was a fat man, with a dark beard and a pink face. As he rode closer, they all got down and bowed.

Lyarra watched through her hair as men brought a large wooden step so that the king the King could get down from his horse. Once his feet were on the ground, he strode over to them in almost an angry fashion. He stopped in front of her father, causing her to look down again.
When she felt her father rise beside her, she followed suit, as did everyone.
"Your Grace," he father bowed his head in respect.
The king stayed silent, looking at her father. The exchange made Lyarra nervous and she had to stop herself from cringing away or shifting from foot to foot.
Was King Robert angry at her father for something? Was that why he was really there?
"You got fat." The king finally said.
There was a small silence again and her father gestured to his old friend as if trying to say something in return of the king's own size.
They both began laughing, clearing away the tension. Catelyn gave a small chuckle and Lyarra relaxed a little. The old friends went in for a hug and Lyarra smiled.
The King pulled away and went in to hug Catelyn, "Cat!"
"Your grace." Her mother said politely.
King Robert then ruffled up Rickon's hair before facing Lord Stark again.
"Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where have you been?"
"Guarding the north for you, Your Grace."

Lyarra's attention flicked to movement by the large red carriage. The younger prince and princess had come out to stand in front of the carriage.
'Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella.' Lyarra recalled in her head.
The princes wore a simple dress of pink while the prince wore a black tunic and pants with a red clock over his shoulder. Both had golden hair.
Their mother exited the carriage next.

The queen was as beautiful as people said she was. She had long golden hair that came down to her waist. Her face was heart shaped and her skin fair. She wore a red gown with a lions pelt cloak over her shoulders.
She began to approach Lyarra's family, looking around Winterfell with a slight look of disapproval.
"Where's the Imp?" Lyarra heard arya ask.
She glanced down at her youngest sister who was looking around for Tyrion Lannister.
"Would you shut up?" Sansa snapped.
"Who have we here?" the king's voice approaching her turned her attention to him as he looked at her.
She curtsied politely.
"You look just like your aunt. Are you just as untameable?"
"I hope so, Your Grace."
The king laughed loudly.
"You must be Robb."
The King shook the boy's hand firmly, Robb looked proud. Lyarra could help but admire her brothers clean shaven face and boyish looks. Since Robb had started growing his beard, he only trimmed it, never went clean shaven.
The king moved along to Sansa, "aye, you're a pretty one."
The red hair bowed her head ever so slightly as her face turned pink. Lyarra snorted then winced as Robb elbowed her in the ribs.
"Your name is?"
"Arya."
"Show us your muscles."
Bran flexed for the King.
"You'll be a soldier."
Lyarra smiled softly at the look of happiness on her younger brother's face. Bran wanted to be a soldier, he told everyone about it.
"That's Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother. The one Arra is marrying." Arya told Sansa.

Lyarra's head snapped around to look for her husband to be. A man with long golden hair had just taken off his golden helmet and flicked his head back. He then tucked the helmet under his arm and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. He had a chiselled jaw and cheekbones, and he stood straight and proud.
Her attention was taken off him as the Queen approached. She gave a slight smile to Lord Stark before offering the man her hand. He took it and kissed it.
Now that Cersei Lannister was closer, Lyarra realise she wasn't as beautiful as she had seemed from afar. Her face showed some age and weariness, and her eyes sparkled with deviance. She seemed to have this look about her that Lyarra couldn't trust.
"My Queen." Her father greeted.
"My Queen." Her mother echoed while curtseying.

"Take me to your crypts," the King ordered suddenly, "I want to pay my respects."
The Queen's face became sour as she turned to her husband, "we have been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait."
The king ignored her, "Ned."
He turned away and began walking.
Lord Stark gave the Queen a sympathetic look before following.
The Queen stared after them, no emotions evident on her face, until she turned to Lyarra.
"Lyarra Stark?"
"Yes, Your Grace." Lyarra curtsied awkwardly.
"You are a picture of your late aunt." The Queen said. Lyarra was unsure whether or not it was a complement of a simple statement.
"So I have been told, Your Grace."
The Queen hummed.
"Where the Imp?" Arya asked.
The question caught the Queen's attention and she turned and walked back towards her brother.
"Where is our brother? Go and find the little monster."