𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, game of thrones

Chapter Two

It had been the night of the welcoming feast, when King Robert had brought his court to Winterfell. Visenya still reigned then. Her parents had shared the dais with Robert and his queen, with her brothers beside her. Uncle Benjen had been there too, all in black. Lyanna and his brothers and sisters sat with the king's children, Joffrey and Tommen and Princess Myrcella, who'd spent the whole meal gazing at Robb with adoring eyes. Arya made faces across the table when no one was looking; Sansa listened raptly while the king's high harper sang songs of chivalry, Bran laughed at Lyanna's joke when making fun of the fat King and Rickon kept asking why Jon wasn't with them. "because he's a bastard" Lyanna muttered to her baby brother.

And now they are all gone. It was as if some cruel god had reached down with a great hand and swept them all away, her little sisters to captivity, Jon to the Wall, Robb and Mother to war, King Robert and Father to their graves, and perhaps Uncle Benjen as well . . .

Even down on the benches, there were new men at the tables. Jory was dead, and Fat Tom, and Porther, Alyn, Desmond, Hullen who had been master of horse, Harwin his son . . . all those who had gone south with his father, even Septa Mordane and Vayon Poole. The rest had ridden to war with Robb, and might soon be dead as well for all Lyanna knew. She liked Hayhead and Poxy Tym and Skittrick and the other new men well enough, but she missed her old friends.

She looked up and down the benches at all the faces happy and sad, and wondered who would be missing next year and the year after. She might have cried then, but she couldn't. She was the Stark in Winterfell, her father's daughter and Lady of Winterfell.

At the foot of the hall, the doors opened and a gust of cold air made the torches flame brighter for an instant. Alebelly led two new guests into the feast. "The Lady Meera of House Reed," the rotund guardsman bellowed over the clamor. "With her brother, Jojen, of Greywater Watch."

Men looked up from their cups and trenchers to eye the newcomers. Lyanna heard Little Walder mutter, "Frogeaters," to Big Walder beside him.

Ser Rodrik climbed to his feet. "Be welcome, friends, and share this harvest with us." Serving men hurried to lengthen the table on the dais, fetching trestles and chairs.

"Who are they?" Rickon asked. The Reed boy had his eyes upon Lyanna, Bran and Rickon's table.

"Mudmen," answered Little Walder disdainfully. "They're thieves and cravens, and they have green teeth from eating frogs."

Maester Luwin crouched between Bran and Lyanna's seat to whisper counsel in their ear. "You must greet these ones warmly. I had not thought to see them here, but . . . you know who they are?"

Lyanna nodded. "Crannogmen. From the Neck." She gaze at the two Crannogmen as they approached to her.

"Howland Reed was a great friend to your father," Ser Rodrik told him. "These two are his, it would seem."

As the newcomers walked the length of the hall, Lyanna saw that one was indeed a girl, though she would never have known it by her dress. She wore lambskin breeches soft with long use, and a sleeveless jerkin armored in bronze scales. Though near Lyanna's age, she was slim as a boy, with long brown hair knotted behind her head and only the barest suggestion of breasts. A woven net hung from one slim hip, a long bronze knife from the other; under her arm she carried an old iron greathelm spotted with rust; a frog spear and round leathern shield were strapped to her back.

Her brother was few years younger and bore no weapons. All his garb was green, even to the leather of his boots, and when he came closer Lyanna saw that his eyes were the color of moss, though his teeth looked as white as anyone else's. Both Reeds were slight of build, slender as swords and scarcely taller than Bran. They went to one knee before the dais. Jojen Reed looked tall near same height as Lyanna. The boy did looked at Lyanna mostly...or he may have looked at her all along since he came into the hall.