here we stand

[mormontlyra]

jorellexmormont:

❝ Have you never seen a woman in armor? On Bear Island, every girl learns to fight. We do it just as well as any man. Sometimes even better. ❞ Jorelle said proudly, her favorite throwing axe in her left hand. The last sentence was spoken quieter while the Mormont’s lips tugged upwards into a smirk.

“I think you’re being too mean, Jorelle,” Lyra declared. Her sword arm rested on her scabbard, the weapon in there almost as sharp as the grin courting her mouth, as she moved to take place beside the younger Mormont. “Could be he’s just never seen a woman in armour that looks as fine as you. Pretty sure that’s drool there hanging from his mouth.”

[mormontlyra]

dickon tarly:

He blinked a few times at her vulgarity, before he spoke. “Do you do a lot of that, kicking men in the ass?”

“Only the ones that like that type of thing,” she teased. The temptation was entirely too much to resist, this little southron lordling might have been the most precious man she’d met in a long while. She knew who he was -- had made note of many of those come from The Reach -- but in finding amusement at his expense, her disdain was shrinking. Humour: the greatest bond forger of them all, except for blood ties, and mutual enemies. “But simply kicking men’s arses, without a foot in the actual arse? I do that daily in the yard.”

[mormontlyra]

 meera reed:

“I did not expect to see anyone else out here,” Meera said with a smile as the new comer walked up behind her. “not many people come looking for the old gods.” 

“The only gods Bear Island knows are the old gods.” Lyra drew even with the Crannogwoman. Here before the gods, there was none of the bravado she wore so often as a second armour. “But, I came here as much for a break than I did for prayer.”

[mormontlyra]

 DICKON TARLY:

“You’re not quite as tall as Lady Brienne, so I think the sight of you will be much easier to familiarize myself with.”

The laugh escaped her against herself, Lyra’s shoulders shaking as she chuckled. What was all the funnier was that she didn’t think he’d meant to be funny? “Being as tall as she is an advantage I wish I had. Even easier, then, to kick a man's arse.”

[mormontlyra]

 GENDRY:

           gendry grinned at the nobleman’s faces, now coloured after having been discovered by the woman’s glare. he’s seen women–girls fight, and he’s seen them fight well. and he would never object to witnessing a moment where the highborns are knocked down a peg or two. “i don’t think they were ever taught that women could fight in fancy lordling school.”

   the glare softened, if mildly, at the grinning man. he wasn’t mocking her, she might have knocked him flat on his back if he were, but the congenial reply lessened the irritation she’d been feeling. not a puffed up little lordling with too many words but not much to actually say. “probably not,” she gave an unladylike snort. “how many do you bet were coddled by their fancy master-at-arms and never allowed to take a hard knock? i say a good hard knock to the head is what some of them need."

[mormontlyra]

 DICKON TARLY:

“Some of us are fairly new to the North, my lady. Forgive me, but it might take some getting used to.”

“Lady Brienne is from the South, is she not? She served the king you Reachmen backed before she served Catelyn Stark. Will I require less or more getting used to than her?”

[mormontlyra]

 ARYA STARK:

Arya had only arrived at Winterfell a few days ago. She was still getting used to everything, being back home after going through everything that she did. She was thankful for it though, the training and everything that she learned, it made her who she is now. When she got word that the Starks had gained control of the North and were now separated from the South, she knew she had to go home. Arya needed to be with her family once again. And after a few more months of traveling, there she was. Walking into the courtyard, she noticed some people sparring. She approached them and titled her head to the side. “You fight well. It’s been a while since I trained.”

It was a girl with a Northern face that approached her, that’s all Lyra noticed. She hadn’t spent time around the younger Starks before the war, and Stark traits were also general Northern traits. It was those Tully coloured wolves that stood out stronger than the rest. Her eldest sister, Dacey, preferred a Morning Star, but Lyra held a preference for the sword. Lyra appraised the shorter girl before giving an affirmative nod. “I’d be happy to spar with you, my lady.” She held respect for any woman warrior. For women, too, who didn’t fight such as the Lady Stark, but raised on Bear Island, Lyra was more used to women willing to pick up a weapon. To protect their homes.  “Dulled or no?”

[mormontlyra]

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman in armour before. After Dacey saved half these lordlings arses, they should be over their delicate sensibilities.”