The journey from their camp to Harrenhal was a short one, well it had seemed short to the Northern party who had been travelling for almost an entire moon.

As Lyanna and Arianne dressed, the younger girl tried futilely to give counsel to her older sister. "I am sure he'll think you're beautiful," she said, clasping her hand over Lyanna's.

I highly doubt that. Lyanna thought to herself looking down at her lap. "He will not. He will think I am plain, boring and boyish just as everyone else does."

"On the contrary my lady!" Bethany Bolton piped, smiling sweetly to Lyanna. "Whichever man thinks you not beautiful is folly." Arianne looked at Bethany, rolling her eyes. It was as if she was taught to speak as those in children's books. "Besides," Bethany continued, "he will appreciate your Northern tastes." She said indicating to her dress.

"Thank you, Bethany," Lyanna smiled. She had chosen to wear a dress that had loose sleeves, came to her shoulders, was showered in beads and dotted with simple embroidery. It was a light blue shade and layered once with cotton, which made Lyanna regret her decision of designing all her dresses like so.

Thankfully she knew Arianne would not mind letting her borrow one of her very own dresses. She wore her hair in a simple two strand braid with a headpiece that had a single sapphire in the middle. Might as well make some sort of impression.

Arianne's dress, on the other hand, was a dark red colour made with a soft silk and cotton underlayer which flowed well and kept her cool. It was not too low cut but gave a little more than the eye expected. Her dark hair was left out, with one braid situated between the loose curls. Contrasting with her dark purple eyes.

Maybe they'll blend with my hair. Arianne thought to herself as she coated her under eyes with a black substance that Lilia would use during feasts and special outings. Both girls, like Brandon, Benjen and most of the Northern ladies and Lord wore their symbolic cloaks to represent their homeland. All the Stark's opting for grey pelt and grey coats with rabbit fur lining.

"It's so hot!" Lyanna exclaimed fanning herself with her hands. She had indeed misjudged the heat of the South.

"You were warned," Arianne pointed out handing Lyanna the fan she had made for the Tourney. Lyanna thanked her and began vigorously fanning herself.

"We're here my lady!" Bethany cried looking out the window of the carriage. They were indeed there. A horn sounded indicating their arrival, and they heard the gates of the castle lurch open. Horses neighed, carriages came to a stop and instructions were directed. Arianne could hear Brandon's voice bellow instructions to his men; her heart began beating faster.

"Lord Stark!" The mousy voice of Lord Whent was heard from outside. The carriage door opened to reveal the courtyard. Brandon jumped down from his horse followed by Benjen who was staring aimlessly towards the sky, Arianne wondered what he was watching.

"Lord Whent, thank you for inviting us, we pray your daughter grows and fulfils many more name days,"

"Thank you; please make yourselves at home. We have servants and handmaidens for your ladies at our disposal. We have an exclusive courtyard for your guards and bannermen's soldiers," Lord Whent rambled, but Arianne had stopped listening.

Instead, she focused on stepping out of the carriage and noticed exactly what Benjen was staring up at. Lords and ladies of Westeros were staring down at them from their balconies. Their arrival must not have been expected for no one was in the courtyard and looked as if they had just stepped out of their rooms to gaze upon the Northern party.

"Not scary at all," Lyanna whispered staring along with Arianne. There were many of them, lined up wall to wall, balcony to balcony. Neither girls knew who was who but Lyanna was able to point out the white and gold cloaks of the Kingsguard. The royal family must have arrived already.

"I hope you've enough servants to carry the gifts we came with," Brandon mumbled to Lord Whent. It would be foolish of any family, other than the royal family, to even dream of attending the Tourney empty-handed.

Lord Whent touched his stout nose and patted Brandon on the back. "I will assume it's the last carriage in and have them unload it, my lord."

Harrenhal was truly the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms, without the upbeat Tourney in place one could see it being a dull, ruinous place. With its five towers that had the ability to hurt one's head if gazed upon for too long, and grounds that could crush Winterfell and cover it three times.

The stables housed thousands of horses, with space still available and the kitchens were as large as Winterfell's hall. Though here and there decaying nature of the building could be seen. It seemed that only the lower three towers out of the five were in use, the rest crumbling away to ruin. The gatehouse appeared to be larger than Winterfell's Great Keep, and from outside the gates, only the tallest two towers could be seen. Of the great towers, the shortest one was as high as Winterfell's highest tower, yet none of the towers was exactly straight. All of them were lumpy, cracked or bent from the burning of Harrenhal by the Targaryen dragons.

The original names of the towers melted away with Harren the Black. The Tower of Dread, Widow's Tower which connects to the Kingspyre Tower. The Wailing Tower which contained storerooms on the ground floor and vaults beneath. The Tower of Ghosts near the gate and ruined Sept. And the Kingspyre Tower containing the castellan chambers. The main entrance, from which the Stark's entered had walls thick and layered. The Hall of the Hundred Hearths was the castle's great hall. It had thirty-five hearths, and its floors were smooth slate and steps led to the two galleries above.

The kitchens, located in a round stone building with a domed roofed contained nothing but kitchens, so one could only imagine the preparation that would go into the feasts and meals and snacks that would be presented the next ten days. The Flowstone Yard, where the men-at-arms exercised and drill and where the squires would clean the armour.

It was situated near the Wailing Tower. The bear put, ten yards across and five yards down, walled in stone, floored with sand and encircled by six tiers and marble benches, located in the middle ward. The bathhouse, had a low ceiling, was full of great stone tubs large enough to hold six or seven. It would be another social gathering for the more, exploring, lords and ladies.

Lord Whent turned to the girls who had just come out of the carriage and were gazing up at the balcony. "They have all been awaiting your arrival, my ladies," he smiled.

Brandon cleared his throat. "My younger sisters, Lyanna Stark and Arianne Sand. My Bannerman's wife, Bethany Bolton, my Bannerman's daughters; Lady Maege Mormont, Lady Meria Karstark and Lady Haley Umber," he said pointing to each one.

Lord Whent smiled as the girls curtsied respectfully. "Your home is one of grandeur my lord," Lyanna complimented.

Lord Whent turned a dark shade of red, beaming at Lyanna. "Thank you, my lady. We have arranged for handmaidens to be assigned to you each for your optimal comfort here at Harrenhal, so bid farewell to your handmaidens and say hello to your new ones."

"Oh, we did not travel with Handmaiden's," Bethany piped.

Arianne and Lyanna turned to her. It was known that private matters of the family were not to be discussed with others. Lyanna knew it was wrong to get close to the girl, but she had no other acquiesces apart from Arianne who was far too busy sewing or writing one thing or another to pay any mind to her. Bethany looked nervously at Lyanna and bowed her head.

Lord Whent ignored her though, "I do apologize for my children not being here to welcome you. My sons are practicing for the joust tomorrow day, and my daughter is to be presented at the feast tonight."

"Oh that is quite alright," Lyanna politely responded.

Arianne looked around the castle balcony, noticing the royal family was staring down at them quite intently. She caught the Prince's eye for a moment, no longer, for she was too scared to look at the man whose hair was a scary silver and eyes so light they seemed to vanish.

"Well, it seems your handmaidens are here, and your trunks are being taken up to your rooms. Please follow them," Lord Whent said pointing to the six handmaidens that had lined up to introduce them. From the corner of her eye Lyanna could see their trunks being hauled up to their rooms.

"My brother Lord Whent? Have the Arryn party arrived yet?" Brandon asked. He had been itching to ask the question. They had not seen their brother in years, and the siblings were eager to meet with him again.

"Are you telling me that you couldn't see me on the balcony? You all looked at it so many times." A voice came from behind them, it was a young voice, but still strong and manly. The four turned around. Ned. He had grown so much since they had last seen him. His hair was similar to Brandon's except his was all tied to the nape of his neck. Brandon was the first to pull his little brother into a hug, almost suffocating him.

"Gods be good Ned," Benjen whispered hugging his brother second.

Lyanna was after him laughing at her brother and whispering to him. "How is he? Good?"

"Robert will make a good match for you," lie. Ned had no idea what persuaded their father to make the terrible match, but he knew his father, and he knew he would never change his mind. Even for Lyanna. Though through the Ravens that she had sent to him at the Vale, Lyanna wrote of how her and their father grew apart over the years, significantly.

"Arianne," Ned smiled softly staring at his half-sister. It had been years and the years had been exceptionally kind to her. Arianne smiled and pulled him into a hug, tighter than all of the others had.

"I've missed you so much," she said refusing to let go.

Ned laughed. "Aye, I missed you all as well," he responded pulling out of the hug.

"Come, my Lord Brandon, I am sure your Bannerman are excited to see the armoury and our exercise yard, Flowstone Yard. You can speak with your brother as much as you like, he won't be going anywhere." One could see that Lord Whent would take up any opportunity to give a tour to anyone who was willing.

"Come with us Ned," Brandon said. And so he did, the three of them followed Lord Whent to the yard, right behind them was Howland Reed, Roose Bolton, Jon Umber and Rickard Karstark.

"You've gotten fat..." The conversation muffled along.

...

From atop, Catelyn Tully watched as her betrothed rode on his horse through the castle gates, jumped off his horse with such ease and greeted Lord Whent.

The perfect Lord. She had thought to herself. She had seen him once before when the betrothal was being discussed by their fathers. His last visit to Riverrun had seen her childhood friend, Petyr Baelish, banished for a time. Until he was able to regain her fathers' trust and affections once more.

Though, at present, Catelyn could not, would not, believe how handsome Brandon had gotten over the years. The heat had done him good, for his pale face was beaming red and was lightly tanned. His shoulder length hair was tied halfway up, and the rest let out, his coat swung around him and from what she could make out he was wearing an elegant tunic that had two silver direwolves at the collar. Her father had blessed her with an honourable man; she would be forever grateful. She saw him greet his brother and the love they had for each other.

She squeezed her sister, Lysa's hand tighter. They had rushed out of their rooms to catch a glimpse of the Northern party once the trumpet had been blown indicating a new arrival. They were the last of the parties to arrive, as it was expected. Though she was sure, Dorne was further. Speaking of Dorne, she noticed the Dornish bastard girl step out of the carriage after her half-sister Lyanna Stark.

Catelyn was surprised that the girl had even been allowed to come, though she had heard stories of Lord Stark treating her as her own. She did not know what she would've done with her husband came home with a bastard, though deep down she knew she would come to love the child. She saw a glimpse of the Prince as well; he was stood in front of his mother and father, his wife had been retiring for some time in their room, and was gazing down at the party.

It was true what they said about him, he was exceptionally handsome, and when he had arrived just a few hours earlier, Lord Whent seemed to faint. The King, to everyone's surprise, had come too. He looked in a bad way, in Catelyn's view. Fingernails untrimmed, hair that stuck to his face and looked like it had not seen water for some years and hooded eyes that could scare the bravest souls.

She was sure she caught the young married Prince was gazing down at Lyanna Stark and for a brief moment looked towards the young bastard girl whose name had slipped her mind. She had also noticed the way the queen looked at the girl, her eyes following her up the steps and to the balcony as she began to greet the lords and ladies on the east wing of the rooms. Catelyn took one look down to the main courtyard, saw that Brandon had left with his two brothers and began talking to her sister.

"He was handsome," Lysa whispered giggling.

Catelyn smiled, she could not deny it. "And what of you? You are to marry Jamie Lannister."

Lysa looked to Jamie who was speaking with the bastard girl she knew to be Arianne Sand. "He has been talking to her for some time now," Lysa responded. "Does she not know he is betrothed?" she sneered.

"He is not fully yours yet Lysa, he can do as he pleases until the words are said," Catelyn said.

"He kissed her hand!" Lysa exclaimed huffing to her sister. A voice was cleared behind them, Lyanna Stark's voice. Introductions began.

...

At the middle of the two west and east balconies, the south one was occupied by the royal family. The Kingsguard stationed where east met south and west met south and in front of every door of the families rooms. No protections could be taken for the most influential people of Westeros. The family filed outside of their rooms, minus Princess Elia who had been tired from her journey and opted to take a bath and see herself to bed early. The King had stepped out momentarily, looking down upon the Northern party and scurrying back into his room.

The Queen, however, had stayed close to the balcony, gripping the walls that kept them from falling. Waiting for the girl to step out, after three ladies had stepped out she had wondered if Rickard had prevented her from coming, but when she saw her, Rhaella's heart skipped one too many beats. She craned her neck to get a closer look at her, the girl looked at her surroundings, and Rhaella instantly knew it was the first time she had been outside of Winterfell. She was mesmerized by everything.

Or maybe I have grown bored of riches? Rhaella thought, laughing to herself.

She could not the child was a replica of her mother, except for those purple eyes. Those eyes that had separated her from just a bastard to a bastard who could be questioned. Rhaella hoped that the lords and ladies wouldn't matter the girl nor herself too much, she could not risk Aerys being upset during the Tourney, that would only lead to a bad outcome for just about everyone.

The girl greeted Lord Whent and stepped back behind her older half-sister, timidly it seemed. Her half-sister was nothing compared to her. As harsh as those were, Rhaella thought them. The silly Northern girl was clad in Northern attire from top to bottom. She would roast under the sun. Rhaella shook her head. From then on Rhaella could only see the elder Stark girl and Stark boy doing all the talking and the group separating off into different directions.

As she came up the stairs to retire to her room and greet the nosy lords and ladies, Rhaella saw her entirely. Pouty lips, dark hair, dark purple eyes that would inevitably cause gossip as soon as her door closed and kissed by the sun many times over. From the dress she wore, Rhaella knew Lilia was still alive and helping the girl grow into a woman.

And from the way Jaime Lannister, the man who would not be ever satisfied with beauty, spoke to her, the way Rhaella saw how his eyes twinkled even from afar and the way the girl would nervously glance from here to there, she knew she was her mother's daughter.

...

Rhaegar gazed down at the Starks, who all seemed to be staring back up at the balconies. The poor party looked as if they were pigs being chosen for a feast. Oh how he felt for them, the southern lords and ladies would tear them apart with their words. He had said goodnight to his wife who had gone to bed and was now enjoying the freedom of doing as he pleased without her at his side.

Rhaegar remembered begging her to stay in Kings Landing, she had two young children to care for, Rhaenys and their newest babe, Aegon. He did not want her injuring herself at the Tourney or their journey to and fro. Maester Pycell had informed them that they would be unable to have another child, at least...Elia couldn't.

A dragon had to have three heads. Rhaegar shook himself from his daze and looked down at the ladies stepping out of the carriage. He had been taken with the girl, Lyanna Stark until another girl came out. Wearing a beautiful dress and a beautiful smile to go with it. He asked his mother about her.

"Who is that girl?" He questioned. His mother seemed quite taken with her as well.

Rhaella turned to him and tutted. "I know your intentions, and I am going to say this once and once only, anyone but that girl," she responded. Or the crown will be riddled with more madness. Turning back to the door that contained the man she knew would be the undoing of the kingdom, someday. She hoped her son would rule before that day, but she knew it in her heart that something was stirring. She felt it instantly once she came through those gates of Harrenhal. The sound it caused sickened her and almost made her faint. Rhaella was never wrong.

Rhaegar nodded his head staring back at her. If only she had not caught his eye, or what seemed to him his eye for the shortest moment ever and it had been Lyanna Stark's eye he saw and fell in love with, yet the Gods had forsaken him. Placing a creature who was untouchable yet so irresistible, the purple eyes would go up against the grey, and you could say they would have their joust. A dragon had to have three heads.

...