Chapter 4

"Lyanna, ride behind me!" Brandon Stark bellowed at his younger sister. She had been gallivanting in front of him with her horse, and as his father had assigned him the job of leading the party, he did not want to let him down. Nor did he want his sister to injure herself before they had even made it to Harrenhal. Or more truthfully, for himself to be seen as weaker than her.

"I'll ride wherever I want," Lyanna snapped back. Brandon had been irritating her for the past hour or so and she had had enough of him.

So what if I rode a few steps in front of him? She thought. If he wanted to lead so much he can ride ahead of him.

She heard her brother grunt behind her, scoffing at her stubbornness. "I'm not known as the best rider to be bested by my baby sister!" She had always been the stubborn type, the type to fight back any chance she got. Her father had told her she got it from her mother.

Lyanna, however, did not think that her youngest sister had inherited the same trait from her mother, whoever she was. When Arianne had come skipping out of the Hall doors and squealed to Lyanna that their father had agreed to let her go, Lyanna smiled back. Though out of common sisterly courtesy.

Her love for her sister would always be there, but the jealousy she had for her seemed to grow day by day. When they were getting fitted for dresses she couldn't help but suggest Arianne against all the dresses that suited her well. Reminding her that she was to be modest and dress according to her status. Lilia was present at the fittings as well and tutted at Lyanna, telling her that Tourney's were for exposure and the only time a lady could act the way she wanted once the sun had gone down.

"Dress as you want my love, the weather nor eyes will freeze or judge you. Trust me," Lilia had whispered to Arianne once Lyanna had excused herself out of fear she would let something unkind slip out.

"Are you sure Lilia, some of these dresses are a little low cut. Besides, I truly would be fine wearing those like Lyanna's," Arianne sighed staring down at the dress she had been wearing. It was a dark red color and complimented her skin tone very much. There was, however, a low plunging front and a backless design to it that made her feel uneasy. Lyanna had opted to have simpler and plainer dresses made. Most in a different shade of blue with layering and a collar.

"Your father did not bring down the finest seamstresses and finest silks and cloths in the North to have you choke yourself up in a dull dress that you could wear at home. When you get to Harrenhal, you will have all eyes on you. Lyanna is betrothed, you are not. If any time was perfect to find the man you love, now is. Do not second guess yourself when it comes to these things, us Dornish women have a knack for fashion that some Northern ladies may....lack."

And Lyanna had heard it all. She did not have the stomach to leave and pressed her ear against the door. Huffing at the handmaiden's statement, she marched to her room to change into her riding wear.

"Lyanna watch out!" Brandon called out. She ducked her head just in time. Her thoughts must have consumed her for she had almost hit a branch. She turned back to her brother and sent a smile his way.

"Have you checked on Arianne? I'm afraid the road does not suit her too well," Lyanna responded by slowing her pace to match her brothers.

"She is in the back, on a carriage. I am to lead the party. How would I have had the time to check on her?" Brandon asked frowning.

"Maybe during seven thousand stops we've made?" Lyanna noted. Her brother had been acting funny ever since they had left Winterfell, or rather ever since he had learned that Arianne would be joining them to Harrenhal. It seemed Benjen was the only one who was excited about his half-sister's company to the Tourney.

"What's wrong with you lately?" Lyanna asked.

Brandon turned to her and then turned away. "Father was right, she shouldn't be here. She has never been to a Northern Lord's home let alone Harrenhal. I fear with our expected duties, she will be left to fend for herself."

"Ned and Benjen will be there," Lyanna pointed out understanding her brother's worries.

"Benjen will laugh as they insult him and Ned would stay silent," Brandon responded truthfully.

Hopefully, The Eyrie and Jon Ayrrn have changed him, he thought to himself.

She rolled her eyes. "They will be fine. We aren't marching to war Brandon. Besides, we should be worried about meeting our beloved betrothed."

Brandon smiled at his sister; he had always admired her wilfulness and sense of adventure. He hoped that Robert Baratheon would treat her well, honour her most of all. He had heard tales of the young man, and he reminded him too much of himself. He could not have someone like himself married to his sister; it would ruin her. Lyanna was far too beautiful to be dishonoured and married to a man who spent his time whoring and drinking from sunrise until sun fall. He imagined her cooped up in Storms End, probably trying to fling herself down from its endless towers out of pure boredom.

"Lost again in your thoughts," Lyanna interrupted. He ignored her, not wanting to put any more fear than she already had in her heart.

"We should stop here, it looks like it'll rain soon and we don't want to drag our horses and carriages through the mud. Besides I think our dear sister has had enough for one day," Lyanna continued turning back to see the mile-long stretch of horses, guards, carriages and trolleys that marched behind them. Banners of the North flapping around in the wind violently. It was time to stop; they would freeze to death with the wind.

"When did you get so good at journeys?" Brandon frowned holding up his arm. The action was followed by a blow of the horn and another in the distance and one further away. The party came to a halt; men jumped from their horses and chatter erupted.

"When did you forget I go riding almost every day?"

...

Riverlands – Northern Camp:

The tents had been set up and night had fallen. Supper had been served, and the majority of the camp was preparing for bed. The minority preparing for a night of drinking and well, what usually comes after drinking. Fires began to burn out in front of tents as those who occupied them settled down for the night. Arianne and Lyanna insisted on sharing a tent to spare one for anyone who needed one. One night in the same bed wouldn't kill them, besides they used to sleep together as young girls.

"That is the longest ride we've had yet," Arianne huffed. She lay, body sprawled on the bed and hair messy from her constant tugging and twirling.

"You were in a carriage baby sister," Lyanna laughed sitting down on the bed next to her.

"You did not have to talk about which way to stitch and how handsome the Prince would be for hours with the ladies of the houses. Besides they spent more time ignoring everything I said, it seems the Northern ladies have taken a certain discontent with me lately," Arianne sighed playing with her older sisters hair.

Lyanna could not help but feel her face flush red with anger. It was one thing for her to feel jealous of her sister, which was natural among siblings, but for the wives of bannermen of her father to treat their liege lord's daughter in such a way was not acceptable. She noted that she needed to talk to them in the morning. "Why didn't they talk to you?" Lyanna questioned.

"Oh, I'm guessing it's because I'm a bastard. I do not mind really; they are all crude and annoying. Tomorrow I wish to ride with you," Arianne said shrugging.

"It's not okay for them to treat you like that Arianne, you are their liege lord's daughter. They ought to show you some respect."

"Lyanna it's quite alright, I've gotten used to the ladies of the North hating me," Arianne laughed slapping her sister's shoulder. "Now tell me you're excited to race with me tomorrow finally."

"Oh I won't be riding tomorrow," Lyanna said sighing. She would be in the carriage twiddling her fingers until they arrived at Harrenhal. They had seen Riverrun from afar three days ago, and if Rickard's timing were right, the moon would be full by tomorrow night, meaning the first feast was to be held tomorrow night. "The moon will be full, and we are at least four hours ride from Harrenhal, according to Brandon. So I'll be in the carriage with you being a lady." Lyanna said looking at her pants.

Arianne groaned throwing herself back to the bed, silence followed them after that. "Are you excited to meet Robert?"

Lyanna copied Arianne's actions, throwing herself back on the bed. "Can we talk about Ned and how we should be excited about seeing him."

"He'll be a man now. He probably takes after father. Gloomy and grey," Arianne said laughing, earning a slap on the stomach from her sister.

"You take after father too I hope you know," Lyanna responded. "We all do."

"So tell me, are you excited to meet him?" She asked again, ignoring her sister's statement.

"Of course I am. Though I hear he...whores and drinks a lot...I don't know why father would match me with him," Lyanna complained, picking at her dress.

"Well, you cannot complain about it seven years after you were betrothed," Arianne pointed out.

Lyanna sighed. "Yes but I truly had hoped a tragic accident would've happened at the Eyrie and he would not be able to marry me." The statement was not said as a joke and Arianne widened her eyes at her sister.

"Oh hush, I am sure that once you two are married he will honour you and you will have many little children running around Storms End. You are lucky, Robert Baratheon is going to be Lord Paramount, one of the most important men in the Seven Kingdoms. He is the first son, so your children will continue to be lords and ladies...maybe even princesses and princes. Father matched you well," Arianne added. Lyanna had to agree that her father gave her a good if she had it her way she would stay unmarried for life and live out her days riding and fighting.

"Oh aye, a Lord Paramount," Lyanna scoffed. "What about you? Are you excited to meet the high Lords and Ladies of Westeros finally?" Lyanna asked nudging her.

"I'm not too sure anymore. I was excited at home, but now that we are so near, I fear that they might not even like me. Father did say how gossipy the Southerners were. I'm worried I won't fit in Lyanna. With the Northern lords, I knew what they were like, rough and straightforward." She was interrupted by a hand covering her mouth.

"That is your tired side speaking. If I know men-"

"You don't-"

"I know that for some reason they all seem to want your attention, and I know you will be accepted. Besides you are Dornish. You always say Dornish women can charm the back legs off a donkey." They both exploded into a fit of laughter, clutching at their stomachs and rolling around the bed. The tent door flapped open to reveal Brandon; he looked red and drunk.

"Brandon?" Arianne frowned sitting up on the bed.

"Lyanna, would you leave us for a moment please?" Brandon asked looking at his sister. Lyanna knew better than to cross a drunken Brandon.

Once the tent flap close Arianne looked to the young Lord for an answer. "What is it?"

He stayed silent for a time, his breathing the only sound echoing around the small tent. Arianne was further confused.

"Have I done something wrong?" She asked again.

How could he respond to her? For the first time in his life he felt his knees go weak and begin to wobble, maybe it was the ale or the fact that his sister was to soon be presented to society tomorrow. He felt his body lower to the ground underneath him, Arianne rushed to him trying to pick him up. She realized that was a stupid move as he was three times her height and weight, so she stood in front of him worried.

"Are you ill?" she asked another time, to again, no response. She felt his forehead for a fever, like Lilia, had done to her every time she bled at the end of the month. It was cold but not too hot, perfect temperature. She then felt his neck, apart from the sweat that was to be expected of a Northerner in the South, she felt nothing odd. She then lifted her arm to hit him on his head, hoping to wake him in whatever drunken trance he was in before it hit his head though he slapped it away.

She then assumed the worse. "Have you slept with a whore again? You know what father would say about this, you cannot continue to dishonour your betrothed like this Brandon," she exclaimed. "Besides... I hear her uncle is a complete.. well ... blackfish."

He shook his head, laughing at the memory of his father's bellows once he found out that his son had been to the local brothel and had slept with four of the women there. He was surprised that Winterfell didn't crumble around them. He eventually came around, assuring his son that every man has urges but once married must keep his and his wife's honour and sleep with her only. Brandon, in a fit of anger, wanted to ask his father if he had been faithful, but decided against it.

"If you are just wasting my time then you need to leave. Lyanna and I need to sleep," Arianne said, angry that he was now dragging this on.

"I-I am just worried about you and tomorrow, is all," he whispered hanging his head low.

"Brandon Stark, in all his might, on his knees and fearing a few Southern nobles. I never," Arianne laughed, hitting her brothers shoulder. "Are you worried you might see Barbrey Ryswell? If so I am almost completely sure that father has done everything in his power to keep you from seeing her."

Brandon laughed along with her. "No... Barbrey doesn't worry me. Just promise me you will not allow yourself to be hurt, I know father and I seem to make a big fuss of it all. We just wish for your safety."

"I will be fine, go back to drinking or get to bed," she whispered, helping him from the floor.

"Goodnight dear sister," he said once more before moving a strand of her hair aside and placing a soft kiss on her cheek.