Just a note before we begin, I've switched to writing in the third person as I just find it easier and the quality tends to be better. Also concerning the pronunciation of Lyon's name- it is pronounced Lee-oh-n and not like 'lion', just in case there was some confusion there. Now, off to the story!
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Lyon sat upon Balthasar, Winter at the horse's knees. Her new blade laid hidden within the saddlebags but of course, it remained in her reach for quick withdrawal if need be. She was content upon the back of her horse, dressed in trousers and a dress-like tunic that fell to her calves. Unlike Sansa, she had no desire to ride in a carriage but instead preferred to see the world go past.
"Lyon, we are leaving." Her father called to her from Winterfell's gates, and with a quick nudge, Balthasar galloped up to the king's new Hand and rose alongside him.
"I'm excited to see Kingslanding."
"You and Sansa both." He said, then a little quieter he spoke again. "You were born in Kingslanding, you know."
Lyon continued along as the Kingsguard and men of Winterfell continued onward. She spotted a dozen or more men of the Night's Watch proceed among them. "Was I now? I thought we agreed not to speak of this matter."
"Not directly, of course. I see no harm in the little things."
"The greatest fires can start from only coals, father."
"Hmm." She murmured and fell silent, but all the same, Lyon looked to him in appreciation and receiving that look, a smile grew upon his face.
"I'm going to ride along with Jon. Gods know when I'll see him again." Her father nodded her off as she pushed Balthasar forward, approaching the bunch of men associated with the Night's Watch. Among them, her eyes found Jon, shroud in black. "Don't you look ominous."
Her remark caught Jon out of the blue, and he looked at her own attire. "And you look... like summer."
"Mine was a compliment also." She said, a grin pulling her face into a bright beam. "I'm very proud of you, you know. Going to the Night's Watch with Uncle Benjen. I'm happy that you're making your own way."
"I only hope it won't be a mistake." He said, a faint smile fading.
"It won't be a mistake. You tend to make the best of situations, Jon. You make things work for you, and you will in the Night's Watch. I'm sure you'll make friends."
"I wouldn't call them 'friends'." Jon murmured, letting his eyes wander to a smaller figure upon a horse, marching in between the Night's Watch and those off the Kingslanding.
"You've spoken with Tyrion Lannister? Is he to take the Black?"
Jon shook his head. "No, he only wishes to see the Wall. Amongst other things."
A smirk quirked Lyon's lip. "I quite like Tyrion. He's clever. Very smart man."
"You've had the pleasure of meeting him then?"
"On very fair terms, in fact. I quite think he believed me to be a handmaiden."
Jon raised an eyebrow and turned to his sister. "Do you enjoy confusing people, or is that just how you are?"
She shrugged. "A little bit of both, I think."
"Amazing."
"Thank you kindly," Lyon said, then suddenly she grinned and gestured ahead. "Speak of the devil."
Tyrion Lannister had peered over his shoulder to catch Jon and Lyon in a jovial discussion. Seeing the girl, a gleam lit his eye and he steered his steed toward them.
"Ah, and here I find the nameless lady." He greeted her with a quirky smile, and she dipped her head in acknowledgment.
"Greetings, my lord. Lovely day for a ride, is it not?"
Jon watched the exchange between the two, raising an eyebrow as he caught his sister's mischievous eye.
Tyrion purses his lip and looked to the sky. "I suppose so. However, I find myself horribly parched."
Lyon did not reply as she reached into her saddlebag and retrieved a full wineskin within. Both Jon and Tyrion watched with perplexion as she first took a deep drink of it herself, and then handed it off to Tyrion.
"Well, you're prepared." He murmured, taking a drink himself before handing it back. Lyon passed it to Jon, and with a fair laugh, he drank as well and returned the wineskin to Lyon.
"I think it is very good to be prepared. You never know when you're going to need a drink."
"That-" Tyrion watched her with a grin. "Is very true. Finally, someone who sees it my way."
Lyon laughed and drank again. Her eyes found the fork in the road ahead- the path that would separate her from Jon for who knew how long. She looked to her brother with a grim smile as a horse came up behind them bearing Ned Stark. Lyon dipped her head and galloped ahead several paces, stopping at the fork in the path, Tyrion beside her as her father and Jon spoke.
"So you're off to the wall, my lord?"
"Ah yes. I have wanted to investigate for some time now. See why the freezing cold and cots of cow shit is so much preferable to death."
"Ah. I wasn't aware they could do that with cow shit. Best warn Jon before he takes the Black." She said with a grin and gestured to Jon.
"Ah yes, Jon Snow. I had no idea the two of you were acquainted. Saying farewell to your lover before he's condemned to abstinence?" Tyrion asked, peering sneakily at Lyon's expression as she watched Ned Stark and Jon as the two approached her and Tyrion.
"Lover? Gods no." Lyon laughed aloud.
"You laugh, yet I'm sure many women would enjoy Lord Stark's bastard." Tyrion peered again at her, yet this time she was watching him with a raised brow. He gave her a look as though to ask "what?" before Ned and Jon stopped before them. Instantly she dismounted, as did Jon, and the two embraced tightly.
"Take care of yourself, brother. I would hate to have to make the journey to the wall to tell the men of the Night's Watch to behave themselves." She withdrew, holding her brother at arm's length.
"And you as well, sister. And you won't have to. And please don't try." She smirked at his expression, eyes narrowed as though truly believing her. They released each other and swept themselves back onto their horses.
"Brother?" Tyrion's whisper of surprise met only Lyon's ears, and her wide grin nearly reached both.
"Lyon, go check on your sisters. Make sure Arya behaves with Sansa." Eddard said to her, and she nodded in acquiescence. She felt Tyrion's gaze on her back as she took Balthasar's reigns, and her father rode ahead of her.
"You're a Stark?" Tyrion asked, mouth partially agape as he stared at her, trousered and on horseback, as good a rider as the men beside her.
"It was nice meeting you as well, Tyrion Lannister. I do hope we meet again soon." She lifted her wineskin as though to drink, but then tossed it to him as she retreated. He caught it in his lap and watched her arse as it hit the saddle with each gallop, shaking his head.
"Stop staring at my sister," Jon muttered, riding past. Tyrion himself almost laughed at the situation before riding after the Night's Watch.
- - -
"Come on, we'd best stretch our legs." Lyon rose as the carriage came to a stop, and the door swung open. One of the soldiers held it open and extended a hand to her, and she took it with her gracious smile. Sansa and Arya soon followed, and they trailed behind their sister as she led the way to the treeline. Three dire wolves followed them, ears cocked at the noise of men around them.
"Will we be safe, Lyon?" Sansa asked as she stepped a little closer to her eldest sister, who looped her arm through hers.
"Of course. All these soldiers and knights are here to protect us Starks and the royal family. You've nothing to fear." Lyon ran a hand through Sanaa's auburn hair, planting a chaste kiss upon it before turning to see Arya. However when she turned around the youngest Stark girl was nowhere to be found, and neither was her dire wolf. "For the love of- Sansa, perhaps you should go find Joffrey, hmm? I need to make sure Arya isn't stirring up trouble."
"Oh, okay. I shall see if I can find him." Though timid, Sansa agreed. Lyon laid a comforting hand up her shoulder, then spun with a flourish of her tunic and took off with Winter at her heels. She looked to the trees, finding the leaves and the twigs disturbed and set off through the roughage where she heard the familiar sound of sparring.
When she emerged she found herself next to running water and inside a clearing. There she found Arya and a red-haired boy with freckles play fighting with wooden swords. She watched as they laughed and dodged past each other, and was briefly reminded of her and her brother Robb.
"You'll never win a fight swinging like that." Lyon finally strode forth from the shadows, and the boy suddenly froze and dropped his blade.
"I-I'm sorry, my lady-"
Lyon waved the boy off. "Don't worry, I'll not tell. I played with swords since I could fight with my brother. I was thinking of starting to show her anyway." Lyon grinned at Arya and sat in the grass, folding her legs. Her little sister smirked back at her, then gestured for her sparring partner to pick up the wooden stick. With Lyon watching they began to fight again, and every now and then she'd call out to fix their stance or attack, and soon their parries and swings came faster.
"I'll get you!" The boy, whom Lyon learned was named Mycah, swung at Arya again. She moved to parry, and that was when Lyon heard Sansa.
"Ayra!" She emerged from the trees with Joffrey, a wineskin in her hand.
Arya paused and spun on her heel to view Sansa. Immediately Mycah froze as the blond son of the king and Sansa came into sight.
"What're you doing here? Go away!" Arya poured, sword still clutched in her hands.
"Arya, be nice," Lyon warned, rising to her feet.
"Your sister?" Joffrey, with a cruel glint in his eye, began taking closer steps to Mycah. "And who are you, boy?"
"Mycah, my lord."
Sansa watched with a frown. "He's the butcher's boy."
"He's my friend." Arya retorted.
Joffrey' hand braced against the hilt of his sword. "A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight, eh? Pick up your sword, butcher's boy. Let's see how good you are."
Lyon's own hand went as though to grasp a hilt at her hip, but the space she went for was empty of a blade. Instead, she clenched her fists and stepped up to the prince, a foot firmly between him and Mycah. "My Prince..."
"She asked me too, my Lord. She asked me too!" Mycah took a step back, his sword had already fallen to the ground.
"I'm your prince, not your lord. And you-" Joffrey looked up to meet Lyon's stony eyes. "Step back, I'd hate to injure my lady's sister."
"You wouldn't. Believe me, little prince. Now step away from the boy and join my sister, else I tell your mother and father you were antagonizing my sisters and picking fights with wolves."
Joffrey's eyes had been ignited with cruel mischief, but now they widened. Lyon could see the unbridled fury in his eyes; the fury of a boy child. Suddenly Winter began to growl, slobber dripping from his maw as he stepped up to Lyon's side. He had grown taller and larger, enough so that Joffrey took a step back.
"You bitch!" There was a snick of steel as Joffrey's sword came from its leather sheath, and held it to the dire wolf, whose snarls grew in volume.
"Joffrey, no!" Sansa called, just as another wolf suddenly leaped forward at the prince and wrapped his forearm in sharp canine teeth. The boy let out a terrible yelp and fell to the ground, and the dire wolf Nymeria released his forearm. Arya stood only for a moment before calling to her wolf, and the two took off running into the bushes. Mycah, following suit, took off in another direction.
"My prince, my poor prince!" Sansa lunged forward to kneel at Joffrey's side. "Look what they did to you. "Stay here, I'll go and bring back help."
"Then go! Don't touch me!" He screamed, shoving her away as he cradled his wounded arm. Sansa took off running until only Winter and Lyon remained with the wounded prince.
She stared down at him, no pity in her eyes as she stepped to where he dropped his sword upon the earth. Lyon picked it up, surveyed the steel and its make.
"You won't talk to my sister like that again, you hear me, boy? You aren't the only one who knows how to wield a blade, and I guarantee I do it much better." With a flourish, she twirled the blade in her hand and stuck it in the dirt. There she crouched and looked Joffrey in the eyes. "We Starks tend to bite. You'd best remember that in the future, and we may yet get along. Be a good boy and we'll get along."
The sound of hooves coming closer stirred her to stand and look toward the sound of hooves. Baratheon and Stark men came in on foot and on horseback.
"Prince Joffrey is right over there." She pointed to where he lay.
"Where are the Stark girl and the boy?"
"I don't know, they took off running when the prince drew his sword."
The Baratheon man that posed the question took off toward Joffrey, leaving Lyon with Stark men.
"Lady Lyon, we'd best return you to your father. He'll want you and Lady Sansa safe while he searches for your sister." One of them said.
Lyon released a short bark of laughter. "I think not. I'm going to get my horse, and then I'm going to find my sister." She strode past the men with Winter at her heels. Soon she was running, and when she was upon Balthasar she took off like the wind into the trees.