Beguiling Wolf

Chapter 3

The following ten weeks were filled with the bustling of Winterfell servants and her mother's increasing frantic panics and shortening temper. Lyra kept herself as far away from her mother's wrath as possible, training with her brothers or heading out to the Godswood or ducking into the library or hiding behind maester Luwin under the pretext of getting healing lessons to avoid having to fold napkins-although that turned out to be a fun couple of days improving her knowledge, so she kept at it. Lyra got very good at hiding away from her mother an added bonus had been Beowulf's quick growth, incredibly quick as the pups had all of them reaching the size of a medium-sized dog.

The day that the king's party was to arrive Lyra was stuffed into a dress and strictly forbidden from going anywhere near the weaponry under threat of death from her mother if she didn't act in any capacity other than a lady, Lyra pointing out that northern ladies did have weaponry and where ladies had gotten her a clipped ear.

So, Lyra was standing next to her twin who cut an impressive figure dressed in his fur and leathers with his sword, NightHowl, on his hip. Lyra was immensely envious, but she would obey, she wished that Theon and Jon would stand beside them as well she had argued that they were brothers to her as well and had every right, but her mother quickly shot it down. Mother's left eye had begun twitching so Lyra had ducked quickly away.

Lyra watched amusement crossing her face as she spotted Arya clambering over a wagon with a large steel helmet on her head, she ran straight into their father who chuckled lowly and took the helmet off her handing it to Roderick, before ushering her into line, Sansa glared at her and Lyra lightly slapped her round the back of her head, sending her a rebuking look, though she soothed Sansa's hair back into place when she had apologised.

A warning call came up from the guards and the occupants of the courtyard straightened up as a clattering of hooves was heard and the large contingent of the king's party came through, with a large wooden carriage coming into the courtyard as well. Lyra's eyes caught the sight of the crown prince he was sitting on top of his horse smirking smugly as he glanced at Sansa, Robb obviously caught the look and started glaring at the blonde twat, but Lyra was interested in the large man who was wearing a helmet in the shape of a dogs head, half his face melted and staring intensely at her sister.

The Queen, a truly famed beauty stepped out of the wheelhouse, she was swiftly followed by a younger version of herself and a very sweet looking boy, the princess Myrcella and her younger brother Tommen.

On top of a poor horse was a very fat man with a patchy beard, ruddy cheeks and breathing heavily, Lyra cast a glance at Robb as if to say really? Her twin seemed to agree but followed their father in kneeling onto the ground in respect, she heard the supposed king heaving himself off the horse landing heavily onto the ground and stomping over to her father, he reached out a hand and gestured for Them to stand. Everyone did so following Father's lead.

"You've gotten fat" the king's deep voice boomed around the courtyard, her father merely looked down at himself, then the king looked up at his face and cocked an eyebrow, causing the king to let out a roar of laughter.

"Cat!" he called out joyfully and her mother was wrapped up into a tight embrace, her feet lifting up from the man's strength.

"Your grace" Mother managed to squeak out.

"Nine years! Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" the king continued staring at Ned while he mussed up Rickon's hair, little Rickon seemed incredibly pleased.

"Guarding the north for you your grace" Ned replied "Winterfell is yours for as long as you need it"

"Where's the imp?" Arya demanded loudly glancing around the courtyard