Crowns and Cruel Intentions || Game of Thrones

1| 𝔩𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞

winterfell, westeros

— LYANNA STARK WAS NOT A GOOD LADY BY NATURE, UNLIKE HER BELOVED NAMESAKE. Yes, she wore her dresses and tended to her studies and watched over her siblings like the good big sister she was, but she also couldn't sit still long enough for a handmaiden to even braid her hair, and she hated geography and when she was younger, she was notorious for popping out of the shadows and nearly giving her poor septa or any passing servant a heart attack. Even now, she stole snacks from the kitchen and barely ever refrained from boldly speaking her mind and often refused to be where she was meant to be.

Her mother sometimes worried for what her firstborn's future might look like, the way she acted, but her father just smiled and ruffled her hair, saying he'd find someone to love her as she was, and only that man would be worthy of his little girl.

Thunk. The book in her lap still sat open, but it had been abandoned about fifteen minutes ago when she decided watching Bran try to shoot was much more interesting than what some dead high lord had to say about the lineage and succession of smaller houses. She smirked slightly, her amusement plain as she rested her elbows on the book, propping her chin in her palms.

Bran winced, groaning at the arrow that struck a nearby barrel rather than his intended target. Robb and Jon, both a year younger than her, were attempting to teach him archery, and Jon clasped his hands over the boy's shoulders. Lyanna didn't hear what he murmured to the boy, but after glancing up at where Eddard and Catelyn Stark were watching, he gave a little nod and tried again. Thunk. Another miss. Determined, Bran just drew back another arrow. This time, it flew right over the target and even the low stone wall behind it. Jon's face scrunched up as he chuckled, Robb turning away in an attempt to hide his own laughter and Lyanna pressed her fingers to her lips to force down the giggles building in her chest. Even Rickon couldn't help it from where he sat next to his big sister.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Their father called down. "Keep practising, Bran. Go on."

"Don't think too much, Bran." Jon suggested as Bran nocked another arrow.

"Relax your bow arm." Robb instructed.

Thunk. Bullseye. The three of them whirled to find a grinning Arya standing just behind them, bow in hand. She gave a little curtsey, and Bran dropped his bow, running and sending the both of them chasing across the courtyard. Lyanna grinned as her brothers laughed, encouraging them teasingly before turning to clean up the mess left behind.

Abandoning her book atop the barrel she'd been seated on, she helped them collect the scattered arrows, returning them to where they belonged. She stopped when she noticed Ser Rodrik approaching and frowned slightly in confusion. "My lady." he offered her a nod before turning his attention to Robb and Jon. "Your father has requested you prepare your horses to join him on a ride to the Oak Hill."

They both nodded in reply before following Ser Rodrik off to the stables. Lyanna pursed her lips. It wasn't as if she wanted to attend an execution, but there was always some part of her that couldn't help but feel left out. So what if I'm a girl? But it was the way things were. Her tense silence and train of thought were broken when a giggling Rickon hurtled himself towards her, wrapping his arms and legs around her leg.

She grinned down at him. "Just what do you think you're doing, little beast?"

"I'm hungry." he said, speaking as though it were a deep and sincere thought and not just the whims of a berry-loving six-year-old.

"Well, let's get you a snack then!" She exclaimed rather dramatically, picking him up from where he sat and resting most of his weight on her hip as if he were still a toddler. "And then maybe we'll go free Sansa from those dreadful embroidery lessons, shall we?"

He nodded enthusiastically, and they set off in the direction of the kitchens, not seeing the fond smile Catelyn wore as she watched them go.

After snagging some tarts from the kitchens, they did, in fact, manage to get Sansa to tag along with them for a walk through the godswood. The red-haired girl hadn't been pleased about being pried away from the lesson at first, but now that she was out in the fresh air, arm linked with her sister's, she was enjoying herself. Ahead of them, Rickon skipped along, plucking up whatever leaves and rocks and flowers he thought were interesting.

"Lyanna?" Sansa spoke up tentatively after a fair stretch of silence.

"Hm?" Lyanna blinked, pulling her attention away from the distractingly bright bluebird she'd been watching hop along the branches of the Weirwood tree.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" the older girl frowned, and Sansa hurried to explain. "It's just... well, father is always saying how you look so much like his sister Lyanna, and anytime someone brings her up they talk about how beautiful she was, and I'm just worried..." She looked down at her feet now. "I just want to be pretty too. I want someone to think I'm pretty even though I don't look like you."

Lyanna stopped in her tracks, forcing Sansa to stop as well. "Sansa," she said, her voice gentle, but insistent. "Look at me." She did. "You are the most beautiful girl I know, and so, so much more. I mean, look." she gestured at the girl's dress. "You made that, and you poured your whole heart and soul into it because that's just what you do. Everything you make, everything you touch, everyone you meet, you leave a mark behind because you put your whole self forward. You're incredible, alright? And if anyone tells you otherwise, you're going to give me their name so I can have Jay hang them by their toes until they apologise."

Sansa gave a bashful smile, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. "Thanks, Lyanna."

"But of course, my lady." She intoned, deepening her voice and prompting both of them to laugh. With that settled, they turned to follow Rickon along the path. "Hey, wait for us!" she called playfully. When they rounded the corner, they found him throwing his collected rocks to see which ones bounced the most. He abandoned the little endeavour when he spotted the girls, hopping up to grasp Lyanna's hand, and the three of them continued on in a little chain of Starks.

By the time their father and brothers returned, they'd walked through most of Winterfell's courtyards and were just entering the main one to see them riding in. Robb's eyes were focused, scanning around as if he were searching for something or someone. A wide grin split his face when he spotted them, and it was only when he slid from his saddle and started towards them that Lyanna realised he was holding something bundled in his cloak. "I've got a surprise for you." He said when he reached them, voice brimming with excitement.

"What is it?!" Rickon cried, practically bouncing on his toes with impatience already.

Lyanna gasped when he flicked a length of the heavy fabric aside to reveal what he held; four wolf pups – direwolves by the looks of it – grey, black, tawny and russet-bronze. "Oh my... where in the world did you find them??"

"Just off the road. Their mother was impaled by a stag. This one's mine." he nodded at the grey one before anyone else could claim him, and Lyanna couldn't fight off her smile. Sixteen years old, and he still called 'mine' like a child.

They let Rickon choose his first, and with a little help, he managed to gather the black pup in his arms. Sansa wanted the tawny one, leaving the reddish-bronze pup for Lyanna. She took it as gently as she could, heart practically melting in her chest when it squeaked out a yawn.

"I believe that one's a girl." Robb said. "What are you going to call her?"

Lyanna thought for a moment, remembering back to when she was very young and insisted that she wanted to be the one to name Sansa. 'Absolutely not!' Catelyn had scolded at the girl's suggestion, though both she and Eddard were holding back grins. 'I will never have a child whose name starts with a Z.' She grinned. "I'm going to call her Zalia."

A/N
Welcome back to my Game of Thrones fever, lovely people. For those of you who have read my Jon Snow fanfiction, Trueblood, it's nice to see you again. For those of you who haven't, HI! I'm happy you clicked on my story and I hope you love it.

Also, for those of you who me and know how much I love the depression writings, yes, I've spared you for now; nothing to see here but fluff and wolf pups and my new OC Lyanna being a fantastic big sister. Have fun watching everyone's life go downhill from here (lol)!