Chapter 24: Storm

Lysa:

"It is a pity that Lord Brandon is not able to join us."

Lysa turned in her seat from where she was looking out the window to the woman sitting across from her, Cersei Lannister. Her words had been directed to Lysa's sister, Cat, who sat on Lysa's other side.

"It is," Her sister showed the expected disappointment that she could not be with her betrothed.

Lysa had been surprised that the Lady Cersei had spoken. The Lord Hand's daughter had been quiet for much of the trip. She'd speak when spoken to, and remained cordial in her answers, but did little to expand on anything she said. Lysa thought she looked distracted with something, but she wasn't bold or foolish enough to ask what it was.

"You should tell her Cat," Lysa encouraged her sister, and saw her words had piqued Cersei's interest.

"It is nothing, Lysa," Her sister dismissed in a gentle tone that dripped with demureness.

"No, it is," She insisted. "Brandon's friend, Elbert came to Riverrun at Cat's betrothed's behest. With letters too thick for ravens to carry." She saw a bit of red in Cat's cheeks. Lysa had only heard some of them that her sister deigned to read to her.

It was all so wonderful, she thought, hearing Brandon's tender apologies and other sweet words.

"That was kind of him," Cersei's tone was bland, but her smile seemed real. "Who is this Elbert?"

"Elbert Arryn," Lysa was all too pleased to answer. "He is a distant Arryn," She continued, "And Denys' heir until," Her words and thoughts trailed off while heat came to her cheeks, "Until we have children," Still unable to hide the blush that remained no doubt across her face.

She did not think it fair she had to wait at least another year to be married. I'm not frail, she had told her father, but he would hear nothing of her words no matter how true they were.

I can give him sons now. Lysa could feel it in her blood. In her bones. She was ready. I can be brave, he loves me, I can help him.

Why must we wait? She lamented the unfairness of it. She knew her body better than her father or maester.

She put aside her disappointment but stayed on the topic due to recent gossip she had heard from some of the guards in the prince's retinue.

"I heard that the Princess may be pregnant again."

Lysa wasn't sure she should trust such sources but she was tired of the quiet that had been plaguing her for most of this trip. Now, that they were all talking, she did not want it to end and for silence to once more reign. That was boring, and she could only look out the window of their carriage for so long without getting a bit nauseous.

The bumpiness of the road did little to soothe her protesting belly.

"A child is a blessing," Cat intoned, looking and sounding so wise. Her back was straight, her hands folded in her lap. Her auburn hair wonderfully braided, and her blue eyes were kind, and thoughtful in their gaze.

Cersei favored her with a polite smile, but added nothing to the conversation.

"The Crown Prince would be pleased," Lysa agreed quickly.

I cannot wait to please my husband, she thought dreamily of her and Denys together.

Her wonderful thoughts of her perfect betrothed came to a halt just as the wheels beneath her slowed to one as well.

"What is it?" Cat asked.

Lysa looked out the window, but saw nothing of interest. She saw a few Targaryen guards milling about.

Their answer came shortly and it began with the sound of a polished knock on their door. It then opened to show the genial face of Ser Gwayne Gaunt, who offered them a polite smile and the proper courtesies. "Apologies, ladies," He raised his head after dipping it to them in greeting. "Part of our escort has gone too far ahead. Our caravan has stretched out."

"Do you know how long it will take, Ser Gwayne?" Cersei asked the knight.

"Not terribly long, my lady," He answered, a sly smile slipped in under his bushy mustache. "Is there a message I shall take to the prince for you, my lady?"

The Lady Cersei did not seem surprised or scandalized by the knight's informal question or his tone. She replied with a sincere smile and shook her head, "I wouldn't dare make you blush, Ser Gwayne," She teased, green eyes dazzling in mirth, "Red does not suit you nearly as well as white."

Gwayne laughed. "I shall inform the Prince then that he is in your thoughts ." He winked, "Ladies," he bowed to them and left.

"My betrothed was right in his name for him," Cersei was still smiling, "Gwayne the Gossip, indeed!" Her lingering amusement did not flicker out for another few heartbeats.

That was when the first shout could be heard.

"What was that?"

Her sister's question was answered not by them, but by a chorus of loud noises that seemed to be coming from all directions.

Lysa looked to the window and felt her belly drop at what she saw. "Men!" Her heart flickering in her chest like a frightened and caged bird. "Attack!"

It was terrible! Coming out of the woods were armed men. They looked dangerous and demented as if they'd just escaped the Seven Hells.

Arrows fell upon their carriage like the first raindrops of a storm.

Lysa screamed.

They're trying to kill us!

Lysa felt the fear that coiled itself around her lungs and squeezed tightly.

"What?" Lady Cersei had moved across the cushions when Lysa couldn't muster her voice to answer.

"We will be safe," Cat assured them, holding Lysa's hand and squeezing. "We have men to protect us."

The sound of steel clashing against one another wasn't as reassuring.

Shouts and curses, and clangs of metal made for terrifying sounds that had Lysa trembling.

It's too close! It's too close! She felt tears on her cheeks. Make it stop! Make it stop!

"The men are scattered!" Lysa's voice was strangled, remembering why they had stopped in the first place. "We're doomed!" The fear was heavy and pressing against her face trying to smother her.

"We are protected by the best men in the Kingdoms," Lady Cersei did not share Lysa's opinion.

"She is right," Her sister quickly agreed, "Uncle Brynden is out there," Cat's hand remained tightly wrapped around Lysa's, "Denys too,"

"Denys!" It came out more as a screech, but now she feared for him with all this fighting happening around them.

Protect Denys, she prayed, Protect us, she repeated her prayers. She closed her eyes so that she could pretend that she was back in the Sept at Riverrun.

He cannot die! It could not happen. I need to give him sons. He can't be taken.

More arrows fell upon their carriage which punctured the calming image Lysa was trying to project.

Please no, she said to herself, Please.

A finger of light could be seen shining above them, and for one glorious heartbeat, she thought her prayers were being answered, but when she looked up, she discovered to her horror it was not the touch of the gods they felt, but man. An arrow had poked through, punching through the wood.

Lysa leaned back. She felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten in hopes to banish the dizziness that covered her like an unwanted veil.

"It's Ser Gwayne!" Cersei's voice was filled with such hope that it got Lysa to open her eyes to look.

She was right. The knight of the kingsguard looked valiant in his white plate armor while he moved towards them. His sword was already bloodied by the fiends who thought to attack them.

"Protect the Prince!" He shouted as he dispatched a foolish bandit who thought to stab him when his back was turned, "Protect the carriage!" He moved with surprising calmness given the expected chaos that was all around him.

"We're safe," Catelyn didn't hide her relief.

He was only steps away from them.

We're safe, for the first time Lysa allowed herself to feel safe.

A gargled shout broke through her confidence. She looked through the window to her horror to see Ser Gwayne was stumbling forward which was how she spotted the cause.

An arrow! Her heart sank and fresh tears were falling down her cheeks. The kingsguard knight and their protector had been hit. He fell to his knees first, and then the ground before he could reach them.

"Open the door!" Cersei demanded.

"WHAT?" Lysa shrieked unable to understand such madness.

Cersei didn't look the least bit scared. "Open the door," She repeated with a sharp edge in her voice, "I will not allow them to butcher Ser Gwayne."

Lysa turned to Cat for an answer. Her sister always knew what to do, but Cat seemed silently stunned at Gwayne's unexpected fall.

Cersei moved out of her seat to get to the door.

"No!" Lysa tried to swat her hand away. "You can't!"

"I can," Cersei's growling response made Lysa instinctively lean away and that was all the Lady Cersei needed to open the door.

The screams and shouts were terrible! They were so loud, but it was the groans and cries that pierced Lysa to her bones. The wailing of the dying.

Please let that not be Denys. Lysa covered her ears, but it all bled through. Please protect Denys .

"I need help," Cersei had moved halfway out of the carriage to grab Gwayne's arms and was trying to pull him into the safety of their carriage.

"We need to close the door!" Lysa insisted.

"He lives!" Cersei snapped, "Now help me!"

Cat moved first. She recovered swiftly from her brief lapse of stillness and came alongside Cersei to help grab the groaning Ser Gwayne. They grunted while they tried to pull him inside.

The man's dead weight and armor made it no easy thing.

Lysa was continuing her silent prayer when she moved to join them. Her fingers were trembling when they found a purchase to grip around his back. She then pulled with all her might. She felt her arms shaking, but the three of them were slowly doing it.

It was a few more seconds of struggling before he was brought in and was unceremoniously left on the floor, muddied, and bloodied, but he was inside.

She felt the wetness before she saw it. Her fingers were sticky with blood. She must have touched a part of his wound. Lysa's belly roiled, and the taste of bile burned in her throat. She climbed over the fallen knight and just as her face reached the outside, she heaved. Tears blurred her vision, and her body shuddered.

Cat's hands were on her back. First they were soothing, but then they became insistent and firm. Her sister was pulling her out of the way so that they could close the door.

Lysa did not resist, reeling from her sickness. Exhausted, and scared, that was when she saw one of their attackers had noticed the open door.

He had dark eyes and his face was dirtied, and his sword was red. She felt the disgust in her belly at the slow look he gave her before he licked his lips. He was quick in his steps to close the distance between them. He was standing not yet close enough to grab them, but in the way of them being able to close the door.

"Some treasures are in gold," Even his voice was hard and mean, "And some are in flesh."

Lysa was going to be sick again. Her stomach stirred as she sagged in her seat. Her eyes were bleary, and what followed felt more like a dream but she watched it unfold as if in some detached trance.

The man put one of his hands on the door frame to steady and then pull himself inside.

A flash of steel struck forward like a bolt of lightning. A startled cry followed, he cursed and stumbled backwards as a splash of red blocked Lysa's vision for a heartbeat, drenching her and Ser Gwayne.

The source of the cut was a sword. It's wielder-the Lady Cersei.

She then pulled the blade out and slashed at the confused and wounded man a second time.

The sound of steel cutting through flesh had never sounded so sweet to Lysa's ears. She saw glimpses of the ferocious dragon and lion along the sword. Their fury had been roused by this interloper.

Their fangs were tasting blood.

The man's yelp was silenced as the sword sunk deeper into him. The body lulled forward, and went creepily still, like the strings of a puppet having been suddenly cut.

Lady Cersei's eyes were dark and blazing while her mouth was determined. She looked at their would be raper while she pulled the sword out of him. His body collapsed into a heap, hanging partly inside their carriage. She kicked his body to the ground. The thud sound it made was quite satisfying.

One hand holding a bloodied sword, with the other Cersei closed their door and then locked it.

"Lysa, you're bleeding!" Cat's worried voice pulled Lysa's eyes away from the fearsome looking Cersei Lannister and onto her worried sister.

"N-No," She muttered. Her tongue felt thick and her dreamlike daze only made her more sick. Her empty stomach churned in warning. "I-It's not my b-blood," Her voice sounded so far away.

Where am I going?

The last thing she saw before darkness came to her were tears in her sister's eyes.

Lyanna:

The solar in Storm's End was filled with warmth and laughter, friends, and family.

Their host, the Lord of Storm's End was sitting comfortably on one of the couches by the hearth. Perched on his knee was his natural daughter, Mya Storm. The girl was grinning and giggling thoroughly entertained by her father's antics which varied from bouncing precariously on his knee to being tossed up in the air with him catching her deftly each time.

Lyanna did not know who was laughing more Robert or Mya.

Sitting on one side of their host was Elia Lannister. The Dornish princess turned Lannister wife looked on amused, while occasionally cautioning Robert that some restraint is never a bad thing, especially when it comes to one's own children.

Jaime Lannister was leaning against the wall, grinning. His green eyes turning between the flying Mya and back to his wife. Japing while he watched, "Only Robert could find baby tossing an enjoyable sport."

Robert's eyes flickered to Jaime before tossing his daughter into the air, who let out an excited squeal. "You sound surprised, Lannister." The Lord of Storm's End caught his daughter with ease before sharing a chuckle with Jaime.

At the table where Lyanna was currently sitting, she was across from her brother's foster father, Jon Arryn. An old, but kind man who was currently engaged in a conversation with Ned's bride to be, Ashara. She could not hear what was being discussed, but it seemed an amusing topic given Jon's smiling and Ashara's laughter.

It was Ned's reaction to their conversation that clued Lyanna into what was being discussed.

"He did not?" Ashara asked in between her giggling when Jon Arryn finished an apparent story that featured Ned.

"He did," Jon answered with a fond smile that helped to ease the traces of the age lines on his face.

"Why wasn't I told this?" Ashara teased, turning to Ned, who seemed undecided if he should be amused or annoyed given the stories his foster father was sharing.

"It was not prudent," Ned replied with a shrug, but his small smile and his tone sent the three of them into another round of laughter.

Benjen had slipped off to bed as had the younger Renly, while Robert's other brother never made an appearance.

Had there been some recent row between the brothers? She wondered, trying to find a reason to explain such rigidness between Robert and his younger brother, Stannis.

It was Robert's rumbling voice that brought a halt to her thoughts and for them all to come back together into a single conversation. "Fearless," He praised his daughter. She was a girl of two or three, Lyanna was not certain. "She gets that from me."

"In your case we call it reckless," Elia corrected.

"She's clever too."

"So are we sure she's yours?" Jaime asked.

The jest earned a ripple of laughter throughout the room, but Robert's was the loudest. "I'll show you." His large hand rested gently on her shoulder, helping to guide her line of sight so she could see Ned. "Who's this?"

Her blue eyes sparkled in thought, smiling, "Uncle Ned!"

"Aye, Mya," Robert agreed with a grin.

Only Robert would encourage his daughter to call his friends uncles instead of what was appropriate or expected.

Lyanna felt her own lips twitch at how Mya not only saw her own brother, but Robert's handling of her. It was a strange sight to see this fearsome warrior, and a man who's infamy was centered around his promiscuity could be such a doting father especially when its with his natural daughter.

"And his house?"

Mya's face scrunched up in concentration for a heartbeat, before she put her head back and howled.

Her imitation of a wolf's howl brought amusement and acclaim from all those watching.

Robert was smirking when he tousled his daughter's curls. "That's right, Mya." He said proudly before turning in his seat so she could see Jaime, "And Uncle Jaime?" Robert asked her, "what's his house?"

Mya's blue eyes seemed to narrow and her lips pouted as she took in Jaime's appearance. It took her only a second or more before deciding. She let out a roar.

"Impressive," Jaime's praise made her face light up.

"I told you," Robert's smugness was more endearing than it should have been.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Mya," Robert turned her one last time back towards the table, but this time to face Jon Arryn.

Mya without pause immediately let out a loud screech.

The sudden and piercing wail made Lyanna wince. She was not the only one.

"I wasn't aware Lord Arryn's house was a dying rabbit," Jaime observed dryly.

"It was a falcon." Robert looked to be the only one unbothered by the sound. "I taught her that first."

Jaime did not look impressed. "Figures," he replied without bite.

"I much prefer the wolf," Ashara noted with a teasing glint in her violet eyes.

"I think the lion was the best," Elia had taken Mya from a willing Robert and put her on her own lap. The girl did not seem to mind. She accepted Elia's hold with a smile, her attention then her hands quickly moved to Elia's necklace, fascinated by the jewels that adorned it.

"My wife is wise," Jaime complimented, "And completely impartial."

"Clearly," Ned said from where he was sitting. His lips crooked in a smile.

At times like this, Lyanna felt more intruder than guest. There was a camaraderie between those in the room that she was not a part of. This show of friendship was so clear that even a blind man could notice it. They were so quick to fall into an easy rhythm with one another in their conversations and interactions.

"Lady Ashara has the right of it," Lyanna agreed, not allowing herself to be unintentionally excluded by her brother and friends. She knew it was not on purpose.

They were not like that. They've been nothing but welcoming to me since I first met them.

She figured they were probably unaware of how it could come across as intimidating. To be unsure if others could partake in a conversation between such intimate friends or if they should just stay silent out of fear of interrupting or ruining it.

Ashara nodded in her direction. "It is good to see I'll have such a bright sister to call my own."

Lyanna smiled, "It will be good to have a sister."

Ashara returned her smile, a brief look of relief flickered in her gaze.

Elia made a soft noise from the back of her throat to remind them of her presence. Mya tried to mimic the noise but it sounded more like a gag that had Elia and others laughing.

"Sisters," Lyanna amended. Her own smile grew. She did not find herself brave or willing enough to try to argue against what Lady Elia was implying.

The Godswood of Storm's End was deserted when she arrived. It was small and covered with green. There were a few slender trees that broke through the stony soil looking like fingers clawing upwards to reach the sky. At the center of the godswood was a large pale weirwood tree that stood out amidst all the green and brown of the rest of the area. It's face was solemn and its red eyes met hers.

Storm's End was an impressive fortress. She remembered some of the stories and histories written about it since some believed it was a Stark that helped to build it. Not just any Stark, but the famous Stark who'd earn the name, Bran the Builder.

And now a Stark will wed here.

They were just waiting for the arrival of the Prince and his retinue. Brandon had sent an earlier message saying that he would not be able to attend. He sent his apologies and promised to try to visit Ned's new seat before the year was done.

Lyanna suspected Father was upset since this had been a chance for Brandon to interact with his future bride, the Lady Catelyn Tully.

The sound of movement caused her to look over her shoulder to see who was approaching.

"Lyanna." It was Robert. He stood at a respectable distance when he announced himself. She dipped her head in greeting, but did not speak.

Robert's steps were heavy as he went. "How has your stay been?"

"I have no complaints."

"Good," Robert walked past her. "I'd be a poor host otherwise."

"I am curious on a matter," She asked, reflecting on what she had seen between the older Baratheon brothers since their arrival. "Did we come at a poor time?"

Robert frowned. "What gives you that impression?"

"Perhaps, it is not my place to say,"

"And would that truly stop you from speaking?"

Lyanna's lips twitched. "It would not."

"You are Ned's sister. I will hear your words."

"It appears we've come during a feud between yourself and your brother, Stannis."

Robert chuckled, but there was no warmth or mirth that she'd come to expect. This was neither infectious nor charming, but stiff. "What you see is us," He shrugged, "I am not close to Stannis or Renly."

"Why?" She didn't understand. Lyanna could never imagine nor would she want to imagine such a relationship to root itself between her and any of her brothers.

How could Robert shun his own blood?

"Stannis and I are too different."

"Would you think my brothers and I are all the same?"

Robert turned away from her. "No, I would not." He finally admitted after a long heartbeat of silence.

She stayed quiet, unsure if it was wise to continue to press him on this issue where she had no authority or even reason for addressing it.

"It's easier."

"What?" She was caught off guard by his unexpected answer.

"It's easier," He repeated, "To just accept that this is how it will be between us, that it will not change, so why should we try?"

"Because, he's your brother," She answered at once. Lyanna found herself disappointed in the man in front of her. It was lazy and cowardly of him to accept such a thing and give no effort to make any changes. He'd rather do nothing then even try. She found it pathetic.

He lowered his head, looking more a chastised child then the Lord of Storm's End.

"Brandon, Benjen, Ned," She listed her brothers who she loved so fiercely, "They're all so different, and they can make me mad, make me want to shout and curse at them at times," memories of Brandon's little games that he played on her came to her. She thought more fondly of them now then she did when her brother inflicted them upon her.

"However, they're always there for me. They will make me laugh. They care for me, support me."

How often had Benjen snuck out sparring swords so that they could practice together in the godswood? Or Brandon taking her riding when she should've been inside. Or Ned looking the other way for her when he should've been looking for her.

"I could not think of a life where I treated any of them as stiffly as you do Stannis," she shook her head. "You are cordial to your servants and bannermen but distant to your own brothers."

He stiffened. His expression was difficult to describe. It was not anger that clouded his features, but something else. "You think less of me." Just like with his look, she could not properly put her finger on his tone.

"I do," Lyanna would not start lying to him now. She met his blue eyes that she was so used to be shining in good cheer, but now they were dim in their gaze. There was something there, she observed, it was brief in its presence, but she saw it on his face. He was hurt.

Despite her annoyance and disappointment in him it did not mean she wanted that. I did not think myself capable of such an influence on him . She had only interacted with him a handful of times and most of it has been spread out over the years.

Why does he care? She did not want to dwell on that question or what it could lead to so she pressed on.

"Do you not have any good memories with your brothers?"

"I went to the Vale at eight. Ned became my brother." He declared the latter part fervently, "I did not see Stannis and Renly much and when I visited," He moved around the weirwood tree, almost as if hiding from her inquisitive view. "I was more eager and interested in returning to my friends, Ned, and then later Jaime and my cousin. Then I was in seeing my brothers." He moved back around, but his eyes were looking around the godswood as if trying to search for memories with his brothers, Renly and Stannis.

"There is a memory Stannis and I share," Robert looked upwards towards the looming tower of Storm's End. "We stood together on one of the parapets. We were waiting for the arrival from our parents who were returning from Essos." He pointed with his hand to the spot where he and Stannis had supposedly stood. "We were all excited to see what gifts they had brought home and the stories they'd tell us, which they had teased in their letters," A ghost of a smile appeared and then disappeared on his lips. "But that was not to be," he said quietly.

"The Windproud shattered against the rocks before the Bay swallowed it up," His voice was flat, detached from the horror he was reliving. "We watched their ship sink together. We were quiet and powerless. We just watched." His jaw clenched, "It was Stannis who squeezed my hand in comfort. I was the older brother, but Stannis was the stronger one. Is the stronger one."

Lyanna felt a pang of anguish in her chest upon hearing Robert's story and watching him tell it. She could not imagine witnessing her parents death. It was a disquieting confession from him and it gave her pause and silence.

No words were quick to come to her in an attempt to try to comfort the Lord of Storm's End.

No, not some lord, She didn't like the distance that title suddenly put between them. It was Robert. My brother's friend.

Robert cleared his throat. "Forgive me," He apologized, "That was improper of me." He misread her silence as a condemnation of him revealing such intimate things to her.

"I-I," He struggled with trying to save himself, to shield his behavior from her which he clearly believed he had tarnished by not just speaking of such things, but how he spoke of them.

He's afraid I'll think less of him for it.

She was about to scold him for thinking that or the need to apologize, but her brother's voice interrupted them. Taking away not just that chance, but any chance she had of trying to comfort Robert.

That realization brought an odd, but fleeting feeling in her chest that she couldn't quite define.

"Robert, we've received a raven," Ned moved to meet them. "It's from Lord Buckler."

The Lord of Storm's End recovered quickly at the intrusion of her brother. He forced himself to smile upon seeing him, but it did not linger when Ned's message sunk in.

Robert groaned. "Give it to Cressen," He waved a hand as if to shoo it away.

Lyanna was put off by his casual disregard about receiving a letter from one of his bannermen. She could never imagine her father responding to the news of a raven in such a way.

"It was marked urgent, Robert," Ned did not seem surprised by his friend's reaction. "Lord Buckler reports its about Prince Daeron. Their retinue was attacked on the road."

"WHAT?" Robert's voice rivaled a thunderclap.

Ned didn't flinch. "Prince Daeron and most of their guests are safe, but there were casualties."

"We need to leave!" Robert rallied swiftly. He may have been put off and dismissive about responding to odious bannermen, but when it came to something of interest to him such as the well being of his cousin, he acted at once to address the problem.

"Jaime and Ser Harbert are seeing to the horses," Ned informed them. "We're all bringing some of our men to help with their return and safe escort to Storm's End."

"Good," Some of Robert's anger was calmed by that report. "This is a fucking outrage!" He shook a clenched fist. "To attack my cousin? I will not have it!" He growled, "It's those Brotherhood," Robert spat the name out.

"Brotherhood?" Lyanna repeated.

They both turned towards her, looking mildly surprised by her appearance as if just remembering she was with them. She smothered her annoyance at how quickly she had been forgotten and ignored, because she was more curious with what they were talking about.

"Yes, the Kingswood Brotherhood," Robert clarified. "They're scum and bandits that should've been pulled out like the weeds they are."

"They would be bold to strike out against a retinue that includes a Prince," Ned observed.

Robert was not deterred. "It's them. They've grown arrogant since little has been done about them this past year. I can only do so much since much of the Kingswood is in the Crownlands."

"No one is blaming you, Robert," Ned said softly, as if sensing the underlying reason for his friend's distress.

"My cousin was attacked, Ned!" Robert's face was going red, "And it was on my land! I'll tear down every tree in the Kingswood if it means ridding ourselves of this brotherhood of rogues and cutthroats."

"Let us first get to Bronzegate to meet up with the Prince and what's left of his retinue." Ned cautioned, "Before we make any hasty decisions."

Robert let loose an angry breath before giving a stiff nod. His face returned its normal shade and soon he was smiling. "Always thinking, Ned," he slapped his friend on the back.

"One of us has to, Robert." A small smile came to her brother's face. "It's kept you alive this long."

Robert roared, but this time it was a laugh and not some angry curse. "Let us be off quickly."

"Agreed," Ned was solemn. He then turned to her to speak, but she beat him to it.

"I know," She waved her hand before he could deliver his spiel about not just what was expected of her while he was away, but that he was leaving, and she couldn't come with him.

It was all very tiring in its predictability. She'd rather not hear it for the umpteenth time. It made her want to roll her eyes.

I haven't forgotten what is expected of me. Lyanna especially knew not to voice that she was a better and faster rider than most and could be of assistance to them, because she knew what that disappointing answer would be.

"Thank you," He nodded, "We should be back within a few days."

"I'll spend all my time pacing and fretting until you return, brother." She said it with an innocent air about her which was immediately belayed by the smirk she said it with.

Ned chuckled. "I'd expect nothing less."

Robert had watched their exchange in silence. He dipped his head to her, "Lyanna."

"Robert," she returned, but it suddenly felt like such an inadequate response after everything she saw and discussed with him. And yet that was all that could be said as they left the godswood while she chose to linger.

She felt the silent gaze of the weirwood tree and met its red eyes. She dipped her head in deference to the old gods. She welcomed the peaceful calm that came over her which helped to settle her restless thoughts and confusing emotions that were beginning to tangle up with each other.

Lyanna dare not voice them aloud.

They hear me, she knew with certainty upon hearing the pale branches above her swaying in the breeze. So hopefully they'll answer me.