She did not know how she had managed it, but right after the third day's joust, where Rhaegar had unhorsed Ser Barristan and there were four rounds of archery all of which Lyanna knew she would have won, Lyanna had managed to sneak away. Her handmaiden, Tituba, had made a habit of spending a very long time preparing her for events.

Lyanna did not mind, she had never had someone to clip her nails, brush her hair or style her hair the way that Tituba did, but the wild Lyanna grew tired after three endless pampering sessions in the short three days.

That and she didn't want to hear Robert talk about their future together, as much as she liked him, she found herself falling out of the trance that day. The way he would skull almost three jugs of wine at feasts, laugh as if he was about to die and the way he would stare shamelessly at any woman with working arms and legs. She didn't know if she could take it any longer.

"So what did happen after the feast?" Lyanna asked, curious as to what her sister had gotten up to with the Prince.

Arianne looked longingly at her sister. But she remembered what her father had told her, only those with the same blood could be trusted. "All that happened was he came to my door and I told him to bugger off."

Lyanna faked a gasp, covering her mouth with her palm. "You mean to tell me he did not drink your blood under the moon?"

Arianne hit her sister's arm, Lyanna hitting hers back, the hitting fight was stopped by Oliva who had put her hand down the middle. "My lady! You are by far my hardest lady that I have had to braid hair for."

"Sorry," Lyanna muttered, turning back around and sitting upright as Olivia continued her hair.

"Who said he drank my blood!?" Arianne asked, brushing her sisters dress with her hand.

"Lysa Tully. She has been going around telling people that he crowned you his blood Queen." Lyanna responded, her voice turning deep and horrifying.

If only they had known I spoke a few words to him, Arianne thought to herself.

"Lyanna you know I hate it when you do that!" Arianne exclaimed. She sighed, twirling her fingers for a few moments and then turning to her sister. "Why does Lysa seem to despise me so? I have never felt so many glares from one person than I have from her."

"Because," Oliva began before Lyanna had the chance to come up with a response. "Lysa loves Jaime and Jaime seem to be taken with you. She doesn't despise you per say; she is merely threatened by your presence. But I wouldn't worry about Jaime liking you if I were her."

Lyanna and Arianne looked at each other confused. Lyanna's handmaiden, Tituba, tutted and shook her head at Oliva.

"We mustn't gossip about others Oliva," Tituba said.

Oliva rolled her eyes and shrugged.

Arianne grabbed onto Oliva's arm and shook it. "Tell us!"

"Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been riding and have been locked up in this damn castle for the last two days, but I have a sudden interest in the gossip of these annoying lords and ladies of the castle," Lyanna added trying to turn her head, only to have Oliva turn it back with her hands. Tituba tutted once more as she lay out Lyanna's jewellery on the bed and placed her shoes on the floor. "Oh stop it," Lyanna groaned, kicking her feet excitedly.

Oliva shook her head. "I won't tell you two anything anyways. It's none of our business."

"This whole castle has been buzzing about my life, so why can't I buzz about theirs?" Arianne whined, tugging at Oliva's hands once more.

"An eye for an eye will make the world go blind," Tituba pointed out.

"Good, some of us don't deserve to see the world," a voice came from the door. It was Jaime Lannister. Lyanna covered her chest with her arms; she was only in her undergarments.

Oliva stood from her seat and Tituba followed her as the cursed. Lyanna and Arianne doing the same after them.

"Lysa Tully only despises you because you are more beautiful is all, nothing to it," Jaime smirked, opening the door to the room and strutting inside. He wore red feast shirt and pants, similar to those he wore the night before. The room became silent after his words, and he cleared his throat. "I came to ask my lady to the feast. But I see you have not readied yourself, shall I come back later?"

"No," Arianne responded. "I am ready, but I won't be going with you. In fact, I'm escorting my sister there tonight," she said smiling.

"You'll regret it, my lady," he sang, the smirk never once leaving his face.

"No I won't," Arianne sang back.

He looked behind her to her sister and maids who had all done a horrible job at stifling their laughter. He lowered his voice and took on step closer to her. "I like you, Arianne, don't make me unlike you."

"Jaime, I think it's time for you to leave now," Arianne whispered back. She had liked the man when too much wine was in her blood, but his dominant nature did not mix well with her just then, the way he spoke to her made her feel degraded in ways she had never felt before. She would have to erase Jaime Lannister from her list of suitors.

The smirk dropped from Jaime's face, he nodded his head and made his way out the door. When his footsteps had left, Lyanna, Oliva, and Tituba had burst into laughter.

Arianne turned to them joining along, though she didn't think anyone found it as funny as Lyanna did. She had never seen her sister laugh the way she did, clutching her stomach, wiping her eyes and squealing like a little child.

Lyanna walked past the guards at the tail end of the castle, through the back gates and to the tents where the rest of the parties had been set up. As the lords and ladies ate and drank lavishly, Lyanna imagined them to be sitting and chatting amongst each other with the silent music in the background. They were just like them; they probably had the same dramas and gossip going around the campsite as the gossip going around the castle. Only they were born with no name and title. How the gods had forsaken some and blessed others.

As Lyanna wondered aimlessly through the campsite and greeted some of those she travelled with, she came near a large oak tree where shouts, grunts, and metal hitting the ground. She wondered behind the tree, making sure to hide and peeked at what was happening.

Three squires Lyanna knew to be, Handson; her brother's newly appointed squire; Bronn; Walder's squire; and Gerald; Jaime's squire.

"Get up Reed!" Handson snickered, kicking the man underneath him, Lyanna guessed it to be Howland. She had been best friends with him up until he was taken to be fostered at the Bolton's alongside Roose, she hated the Dreadfort and refused to visit him there. They grew apart ever since Howland hasn't said a word to her.

Bronn picked up a sword from the floor and began to jab at Howland, who in turn picked up his sword and tried helplessly to fight off Bronn.

"What!? Don't have little Neddy to come to your rescue now?" Gerald laughed, Handson laughing along with him.

"My father's richer than your entire fucking family Reed. How's that feel? A farmer's got more silver and gold than a little lordy," Handson laughed. He began kicking at Howland, who was already on the floor thanks to Bronn's efforts and was joined by both boys as they kicked and spat down at him. Howland did nothing but cover his head with both hands and lie in a foetal position.

Lyanna grunted, having had enough of Howland not sticking up for himself and the squires bullying. She walked in front of the oak tree, unnoticed by the four, picking up a stray sword and cleared her throat. The three who were standing turned and dropped their heads, Bronn's sword went flying as he threw it behind his back.

"My lady," they all muttered.

"Beating my Lord father's Bannerman could see you all killed." She said, glaring at them. "Howland Reed, if any of you have cared to educate yourselves on the Noble Houses of Westeros is a Reed, and the Reed's are under House Stark. Another person to lay a finger on this man, and that will be the last finger he sees in his pathetic little life. Are we understood, boys?" She asked, her words coming out as a mere whisper as she neared them, sword dragging behind her.

They nodded profusely, "it were only fun milady," Bronn muttered back.

"He has a black eye and is bleeding at the nose. One more word from you squire, and you'll be seeing black." That seemed to shut him up rather quickly, his gaze falling anywhere but on Lyanna. "Shoo." Was all she had to say and the three were scouring away, pushing one another to leave with their lives.

She knelt down next to Howland who had sat upright and was clutching his ribs and groaning. "Thank you," his words were muffled through the pain in his voice as he gasped and winced.

Lyanna shushed him, throwing the heavy sword onto the floor and kneeling down next to him. Tituba would kill her for her dress was muddy at the knees now. "How could you let them do this?" She whispered to him as she began to unbutton his shirt to see the damage that had been done. Howland tried to push her away, but she hit his hands away, and he finally gave in. He refused to answer her question, once she asked him again, and looked away ashamed. Lyanna sighed, looking to her long-lost friend mournfully. As she tore at his undershirt, she saw something she wished she hadn't. Scars riddled his abdomen, though unlike the scars her father had shown her on his own body, these were not caused by a blade.

"The Neck is not kind to us crannogmen, nor do the animals that lurk below the swamps," he responded laughing lightly, clutching his ribs quickly after and swearing to himself.

Lyanna shook her head. "You haven't been to Neck since you were fostered by Hester Bolton these aren't animal bites Howland these are-" but before she could finish her sentence, running was heard behind them. Lyanna stood and spun around to see who had approached; it was Brandon followed by Ned and a Maestar running after them. Lyanna looked funnily at the Maester, who was young and had been able to keep pace with Brandon. They ran quickly up to them once they had noticed Howland on the floor and Lyanna next to him.

"Lyanna!" Brandon yelled, grabbing his sister by the arm and hugging her. Ned was rubbing her shoulders as they looked down to the Maester who had begun inspecting Howland.

"A few broken ribs, a broken nose, and a bruised ego is all," the Maester smiled, turning to Brandon and nodding.

"Is all!?" Lyanna frowned, glaring at the Maester.

"Is all. Has his heart stopped beating? Has the air in his lungs stopped flowing? Has his blood clogged? Is he ill? Falling ill? Dying? Stabbed in the chest? Losing blood?" The Maester snapped back to her.

Lyanna looked to him in shock and shook her head.

"Let the educated do their jobs; you continue to giggle and twirl your hair, my lady. Never questions a Maester again." And with that, he and Ned managed to help Howland off the ground, and they were off. Ned threw her an apologetic look behind him as they carried him to the castle.

"What happened?" Brandon asked, turning to his sister.

"Your squire and his friends were beating him bloody that's what happened," Lyanna growled, stomping away from her brother.

"Lyanna wait!" Brandon sighed, chasing after her. He grabbed her arm, and she shrugged him off.

"If you need me, I'll be in the armoury yard."

"But there are only men there?"

"Now there will be men and a woman."

...

"You have kept this secret from me for far too long; you won't keep it from our son for any longer," Aerys muttered as Rhaella paced his room. He had summoned Rhaegar to the room, and they were awaiting his arrival. Oh, how she wished she had not said a word. She wished that Arianne had vanished back home. She wished she had written to Rickard and told him to forbid her from attending the feast, that would have solved all the problems that would soon arise.

"And you sent Serene away because she didn't empty your chamber pot! You knew that Serene was worthy of the role as a Lady in Waiting and yet you made her your slave," Aerys rambled on as servant dressed him, rather quickly.

The door to the room opened, revealing a smiling Rhaegar. "Mother, father," he nodded.

"Father, mother." Aerys corrected, slapping the servant's hand away and shooing him from the room with a flick of the wrist. "Thank you Barristan, that will be all." He added. Barristan, still in his jousting gear, nodded his head, bowed and left the room; shutting the door behind him.

Aerys sat down at the table, Rhaella on the couch. They looked to their son. Aerys could not help but despise the very few surviving children of Rhaella's, his handsomeness, his popularity with the people. He knew they wanted Aerys dead, Varys had told him. They waited for the day that Rhaegar would be crowned king and Aerys crowned dead. They chanted after the Prince, the perfect, sane, Prince. But they did not know what Aerys knew. They called him insane, but he was the only one who knew. He tried to warn Rickard of it, leave the North, bring your children to the South, but Rickard was too stubborn, too Northern to leave his homeland for safety. Aerys was glad he would be long gone when they came for the living.

Rhaegar cleared his throat, waking him from his thoughts. "Am I dying?" He asked, laughing.

Aerys glared at him. "Sit the fuck down."

Rhaegar didn't have to be told twice, the laughter drained from his face as he sat down next to his mother, she looked at him sadly.

"That girl, did you do anything with her?" Aerys asked.

"Lyanna?" Rhaegar questioned, he did not know anyone had seen them. He had made sure they were alone. The girl had come marching to the armoury and demanded knight's gear, saying it was for her brother, but Rhaegar knew otherwise from all the stories he had been told of the she-wolf.

"Lyanna?" Rhaella frowned.

Rhaegar looked to them surprised. "I was talking to her at the armoury; I thought she was the girl you were asking of."

Rhaella looked at him suspiciously. She had never known her son to be a womanizer, so for him to knock down two sisters in three days irked her. "The bastard Stark girl," Rhaella corrected him.

Rhaegar smiled to himself, remembering their time together. "Nothing at all. I visited her room after the first feast, though we exchanged a few words and my feet never entered her room. Did I offend her by doing so? If I did, I did not know father and apologize if I did."

"Shut up," Aerys growled, rolling his eyes. "I have sent a raven to Winterfell. She is to come to Kingslanding with us." Rhaella turned to him, raising her brow in confusion. She thought he would be telling Rhaegar of her true parents, not of the fact that he would be marrying her. Rhaella knew that if Rhaegar had caught a scent of her true family, Aerys would've been neck deep in vomit, for she knew how much he had despised brother and sister love.

Rhaegar looked between his parents and shrugged. "She'll just be another lady in the Keep, why am I being informed of this. That is of course ... if you can get to her first."

"What?" Aerys frowned.

Rhaella looked to her son reassuringly, "I hear Olenna Tyrell plans on taking her to the Reach, as a ward." Rhaella added.

"Who told you that?" Aerys asked.

"Someone unimportant."

Aerys made his way to where Rhaella was sitting, Rhaegar making to step forward, but stopped himself when his father turned to look at him. He motioned for her to stand, and she did. Pulling her by the hair, he whispered into her ear. "Is Olenna the King?"

"She's the Queen of Thornes," Rhaella retorted; earning her a slap. Rhaegar turned his head, unable to watch on.

"Her arse must hurt than. Now I'm going to ask again. Is Olenna the King?" Aerys snarled.

Rhaella whimpered shaking her head. "No."

He pulled her closer, her hands went to his, which were clamped tightly around her hair. "Who is the King?" he asked once more.

"You are," Rhaella responded.

"Yes, I am." Aerys nodded, letting her hair go as he began to stroke it. "If I say she's to come to the Keep, then she's to come. You want to be involved in royal matters boy, here you are." He turned to Rhaella, "and if I hear Olenna Tyrell has been speaking to her privately I will make sure to make her very sorry. Tell that to your little Queen of Thorns."

...

There was a knock on Arianne's door, Oliva got up from her seat at the tea table and opened the door. It was the castle's Maester.

"Arianne Sand?" he asked his hands behind his back. The Maestar seemed young for a Maester to Arianne, unlike Maester Walys; this man was taller more youthful. Arianne nodded her head and stood from the table; he put his hand up as to stop her. "No need, a raven arrived for you from Winterfell is all my lady," he said. Handing Oliva that small piece of parchment, he bowed and walked away from the door.

Olivia closed the door and gave Arianne the letter. "Is it from your father?" she asked, curious.

Arianne tore the letter open and began reading;

My dearest Arianne,

I hope that by the time this raven reaches you, the Tourney has already begun. I am so jealous; I don't think I can stand any more rabbit soup knowing you are eating the best. Enough about me. How is it? Have you met the royal family? I had had the chance to see them once, when they were younger, of course, I hope their beauty has not faded; especially the Queen. Send your sister and brothers love from me, tell Eddard that Rickard waits anxiously to see him. Speaking of your father, he has gone off hunting; your father does not cope too well with loneliness. I also hope you have met Oberyn Martell; I knew him once when he was just a boy of three, and even then he tried to charm me with his winks and giggles. He probably wouldn't even remember me now though. If you see any members of House Dayne, tell them that the Lady of Lemons grieves with you and apologizes for her actions, but she was bound to honour. Write to me, tell me of all your exciting adventures. I also have some exciting news to tell you, but I'm afraid this news will separate us for a time. Take care of yourself and watch your back, the South is a snake pit.

With love, your truest friend;

Lilia Dalt.

Arianne smiled to herself; she felt tears run down her face. Half the letter confused her, what did Lilia mean by the Lady of Lemons? And why was she mysterious on the news she had to tell her? Arianne paid no mind to it though, any news from home was good news. She turned to Olivia. "Aye, my father." Lilia had warned her of trusting handmaidens, and though she did trust Olivia, she was reminded enough times to know that the only people trustworthy were those you shared blood with.

"What does he say?" Olivia asked, walking closer to her.

Arianne quickly folded the parchment up and tucked it under her sleeve. "That Winterfell is well and to say hello to my siblings is all."