Old Gods

Lyanna moved around in her dress uncomfortably. She gazed behind her at the two guards who had been appointed to making sure she wouldn't try to do anything reckless. "I wasn't going to kill myself you know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched a maid lace up her shoes. The guards ignored her, staring blankly past her. She was mentioning to the time, two days ago to be exact, when she had tried to jump from her bedroom window.

She would do anything if it meant she wouldn't marry Robert, but Brandon was adamant she did. He agreed her terms of marrying by the Old Gods in Winterfell, where her mother and father were married. She wanted to do it at the weirwood tree, as many Starks before had done. But reminded her that the next day she had to leave with Robert to Storms End.

"My men are tired, we went to Harrenhal, we went to Riverrun, we went to Kingslanding and now we are here on our way Winterfell – all by your commands. They miss their wives, children and their home. They, and I, want to go home to Storms End," Robert stressed to Brandon, they were both leading their parties north and both perched on top of their horses.

"You can leave as soon as you're married for all I care," Brandon responded, he was in no mood for pleasantries and certainty for jokes.

Robert assumed as much, "will you call to arms? Tell me now before I start marching my men home."

"No," Brandon shook his head. He had thought about it, something he rarely did. Thinking before acting. But Ned had convinced him now was not the time to strike, they could avenge their father another time. Now was the time to return home to Winterfell, burn the whore's belongings and think. Well those were Brandon's words. "I want peace now Robert." More than anything he wanted to show his lords that they could trust him, for when it did come time to go into battle, they would follow him blindly into it.

"The Prince means to usurp his father, with as little blood as possible," Robert said.

"And how do you know this?"

"He told us, at Harrenhal. You were meant to stand in with your father but he and the Prince Oberyn didn't trust your hot-headed tongue," Robert replied, laughing. "He has everyone by the balls with his handsome face and handsome voice. His father is his only weakness."

"You are speaking of treason," Brandon warned Robert, wanting to remind him they were not alone on the road. "In more ways than one."

"As you should be, your father was killed in cold blood Brandon. Shot dead by your own foster-,"

"I know!" Brandon snapped back, "I know."

He had to admit, he wanted to take a sword, any sword, and slice the King in half there and then. He wanted to call his bannermen from the North to meet him at Kingslanding, there and then. But he couldn't, he'd lose, and pride was the downfall of many men. He had seen it first-hand. Brandon knew his father was smart, but he knew him proud as well. To think Aerys would let the title of Lord Paramount keep him from burning him was ludicrous. He knew better now, Aerys was to be attacked when he was at his weakest. And thanks to Robert he knew now that would be when Rhaegar was away from his side. That is what Brandon would wait for.

Robert sighed, "Lyanna will be safe with me, you don't have to worry about her if you do decide to rebel."

Lyanna had overheard it all, and her name on Robert's lips disgusted her. There was a knock on her door, drawing her attention from her shoes to Brandon, who was stood at the door with his arms over his chest. "Are you ready?" He asked her.

"You will have to take me screaming and punching," Lyanna responded, playing with the soft fabric of her white dress. It was her mother's dress, she just had it alerted to fit her body and added a white fluffy coat. The Stark cloak, which had brought Catelyn and her mother under its protection, was clipped around her neck.

Brandon sighed, sitting next to her on the bed and waiting for the guards and maid to leave them. "Lyanna," he began once the door had closed gently. "I am sorry that it has come to this, but you were born into a great House, there are certain sacrifices we must make for it. I married Catelyn, not out of love, but out of duty."

"But Ari-."

"Is not our sister," Brandon spat, annoyed she brought her up. "She is the Kings daughter, do not be mistaken. She was born a bastard and her burden is marrying her own brother to mother new deranged heirs for them. Is that a life you want?"

Lyanna looked away from him, she knew he didn't bring up the death of their father for a reason. It pained Brandon to speak of it, and it pained her to hear of it. she shouldn't have brought her up, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't help but think that should be me marrying whomever I please. "I wish he were here," Lyanna sobbed, covering her tears with her hands. She was allowed to cry, just this once.

Brandon took her hands from her eyes and wiped her tears with his own. "He is, he is in the walls, he is in the wind, the air we breathe, the food we drink and wine we eat. Our father was Winterfell, as we are."

Lyanna let out a shaky breath, hugging Brandon and standing from her seat on the bed after a short moment. "Just so you know, I will take lovers."

"I don't doubt it," Brandon laughed, wanting to mess her hair, but it was braided and brushed, and he didn't want to delay any longer.

The two siblings made their way to Winterfell's godswood from Lyanna's quarters, passing Arianne's old room as they did so.

"Take it all out!" Brandon had shouted as soon as his feet landed on Winterfell's welcoming floor. The servants who he had yelled needed no explanation, and they clambered up the wooden steps to do his bidding. "And where is Lilia?"

"Lilia is dead, my lord," it was Maester Walys. Brandon was taken aback for a time, he had so much anger in him he wasn't ready to be given the reality. "She died, not too long ago. The babe she had given birth to made her extremely unwell."

Brandon closed his eyes, "and where is the babe?"

"Dead as well, your grace."

He opened them to be met with his foster sister's clothes, boxes of embroidery equipment, shoes, pelts, coats and art was thrown from her old room onto the wet floor. It brought him great satisfaction; it would bring him greater satisfaction to see them go up in flames. "Where are they buried?"

Walys hesitated for a while, "the babe, on your father's orders, in the crypt beneath Winterfell. We did not know what to do with Lilia's body, so we placed it with the babes."

"Take her out, and put her with this shit," he pointed to the belongings, "we will burn it tonight."

"Brandon!" Ned yelled from behind him, disgusted by his brother's attitude. He jumped from his horse, "Maester Walys, we will have a funeral for our father tonight. There is no body, but we will have it nonetheless. Send ravens to our lords and don't wake the dead by digging them up again," Ned said, marching past Brandon to his room.

Once they had arrived in the godswood's Brandon took his sisters hand into his own. Lyanna gulped, staring at Robert's toned figure that was stood by the weirwood heart tree. The red leaves almost blending in with his yellow Baratheon cloak. The guests, who consisted of the Stark's bannermen, held torches to bring light to the dark night.

They passed Catelyn, who held her growing stomach in anticipation and smiled at Lyanna as she walked past her.

They were now only a few steps away from Robert, and he sensed it too. Robert smiled to himself, and too eager to stay still, he turned around to look at Lyanna. She had a nervous look on her face, as to be expected of a bride, and was as pale as snow with her cheeks a bright pink colour. She looked beautiful, but then again there wasn't a time when Robert didn't believe she looked beautiful.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Ned called out.

She let out another shaky breath, unable to control her breathing now. There's still time to run, Lyanna thought to herself, looking to her brother.

"Lyanna, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble," Brandon said proudly, letting go of Lyanna's hand. Lyanna wanted to scream out and hold onto his hand a little longer. "She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Robert, of House Baratheon, heir to Storms End. Who gives her," Robert called out, his voice was booming and it sent chills down Lyanna's back.

"Brandon, of the House Stark, who is her brother and Lord Paramount of the North, holder of Winterfell."

"Lady Lyanna," Ned said looking to Lyanna expectedly, "will you take this man?"

She stood frozen for some time, the coughs of Ned bringing her back from her nervous state. "I take this man," Lyanna responded.

Robert held his hand out for her, of which she took, and led her closer to the weirwood tree. They both knelt in front of it and began their silent prayers. Brandon prayed for Lyanna's peace, Catelyn prayed for a quick and painless child, Ned prayed for Robert's whoring to stop and Robert ... he prayed for wine and ale.

Lyanna knew what she was praying for. Please gods listen to my one and only wish, free me from this man. I pray a branch from this tree falls and strikes him dead. I pray a set of bandits jump the castle walls and stab him to death. I pray he drowns in wine; I pray his skull cracks open when he lays it to rest-

Robert stood from his silent prayer, helping Lyanna from the floor. He took off her Stark cloak, handing it to Ned and cloaked her with his own Baratheon one. He clipped it, as the Stark one had been clipped and leant down to kiss her. Lyanna dodged the kiss, opting rather to kiss his cheek. Robert, and the guests laughed, taking it as Lyanna being a shy bride.

...

Lyanna stood outside of Storms End's stables, the sun was rising, and she had told the stable boys and gate keeper's she was going out for a ride – something she had made sure she did at least a few times a week. This time, she had strapped to her horse warm a leather bag with warm blankets, one plate, a spoon, and a water pouch. Her bow and arrow along with her sword that Robert had gifted her as novelty, went across her body.

"For my she-wolf," Robert laughed, handing Lyanna the small sword.

Lyanna knew then and there, Robert was foolish enough to let her escape, he would let her hunt, ride and leave whenever she wanted. Lyanna was afforded freedoms that her father had never given her, and she didn't take them for granted, because just as she had presumed, Lyanna hated Robert and she hated Storms End. It smelt of saltwater, it was dark and loud, and she was alone in it all. To get away from him, Lyanna would spend the time she wasn't out riding or hunting in the godswood, praying under the solemn faced weirwood heart tree. She doubted the gods granted the prayer of death, because Robert was still alive.

She did try to come around to him, for a day or two, but he was truly insufferable. A small part of Lyanna knew though that if she tried, they could live in peace. If she stopped thinking that she hated him, they could become as a husband and wife should.

He brought ladies to Storms End to keep her company, but in the span of three moons had ended up fucking all five of them. It was amusing really to Lyanna, was he addicted to sex? She always thought he was somewhat of a manic when it came to women and the power they held over him. Women, wine and ale. Those were Robert's downfall.

She did not remember their first night together, she knew it was at the wedding feast, but she had gotten herself drunk on ale to the point of no return. To the point where Robert had to carry her from her seat to her room, where all she could remember was his face, his necklace, hanging over her. Well now she had a growing stomach to remember it by for all of eternity. Robert, who had noticed rather quickly that she was pregnant, used it as an excuse to stop calling on her during cold nights.

She looked down to her stomach, there was no way on all gods old and newthat she would let Robert near her again. Lyanna had told everyone around her she didn't want to marry him and yet they had forced her, and for what? A few soldiers? No. Lyanna was leaving, she was leaving to live in wherever her feet and this horse took her. Once she was sitting comfortably on her horse, Lyanna clicked her heel and it trotted out of the castle gates. Finally, Lyanna thought, now ... where am I going to go?

...