princeofdragons:
“If I don’t face him today, I’ll have many more chances. I do take the advice kindly, though, so thank you Lady Stark.” Of course, curiosity consumed him and he wondered how she knew so much about the structure of fighting and how she had learned about Robert’s strategies. Perhaps the Starks did differently in the North, but as far as he knew, women in the South took to sewing. He wasn’t about to ask about her hobbies though, he had zero desire to anger her and he felt it was prying if he began to ask many questions upon first meeting.
“As far as I was aware, wolves are adaptive creatures. I’m sure one could survive in the South if it tried.” He doubted any Stark would ever come south to stay. They used to the brutal cold of the North, a place that Rhaegar would surely freeze in. But she seemed to think otherwise, which gave him the slightest bit of hope that if he ever decided to travel that far into the North, maybe he wouldn’t die.
Rhaegar let her speak though, his hands folded behind his back, a smile softly taking residence upon his features. She was passionate about her home, something that Rhaegar had never been. King’s Landing was not a home for him, it felt more like a cage. While he had been only hours old the day Summerhall burned, he felt a kinship to the ruined castle than anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms. He could understand her passion, even though when he thought of Summerhall, he felt grief.
But the description she gave, brought his mind to Dragonstone. The smooth obsidian walls of the castle were beautiful and he wondered if she would ever get to see it or if her life would be spent here at Storm’s End in a place that would never capture the beauty she deserved. “It sounds beautiful. Perhaps I should make a trip North to see this for myself. Though you will have to promise me that you will be the one to show me its wonders.” He could smell the rain now and almost on cue, the sound of thunder rumbled over the hills in the distance.
“May I escort you back? It seems the storm is finally here.” He didn’t want to go, he could have stood there all night listening to her speak of Winterfell. “If not, I do understand Lady Stark.”
A smirk formed on Lyanna's face. Throw him to the dirt for me. She kept the thought to herself. However, she certainly wished that someone would defeat Robert on the morrow. A bit of humbling would do the young lord a kindness, for someday she feared that he would be too bold for his better’s taste and it would end very poorly for him. He was headstrong and seemingly uncaring about anything but himself. His fall from grace would be devastating, she was sure. She also wanted to see him humbled for her own sake. It would be a tiny victory, but a victory in her mind, nonetheless. Some vengeance would be sweet, but the thought made her feel a tad guilty.
Her father and brothers would have scoffed at the thought of living in the south. While wolves were stubborn and impatient they knew how to survive. However, they were staunch believers that Starks weren’t meant to travel past the Neck. However, they were not ladies and northern ladies often were sent to live in the south to secure alliances. She-wolves were more resilient than their male counterparts, of that Lyanna was sure. Her Lady Mother was a prime example of that, she was Lady of Winterfell, after all. Even when her father was away, her mother ruled the stronghold with dignity and grace, always ready to adapt when needed. “I think my Lord Father and brothers would respectfully disagree with you.” She couldn’t help the laughter when she thought of Brandon or Ned trying their best to be respectful of the Prince’s station, while vehemently disagreeing with his sentiment.
“I will make that promise, Your Grace.” She turned to him and smiled a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about the cold. The castle is quite warm, due to the hot springs. The warm water moves throughout the walls to keep it warm. It would be the perfect place for a Dragon in the North.” She smirked. She couldn’t imagine how someone could be so fearful of the cold. Of course, it was nothing to take for granted, but a bit of cold never harmed anyone. Only those who were unprepared or reckless suffered in it. One just had to use their head.
“If you so wish it, Your Grace, I would love to tell you more about the north at a later time. There is much and more that is utterly fascinating about the lands my father rules on behalf of yours.” She looked up at the sky, just as the smallest raindrop landed on her cheek. However, she knew that these first drops were going to be the only beautiful part of this storm. It was sure to sleet and create a muddy mess of all the land. The tourney would be more of a muddle than the valiant competition it was meant to be.
“I would be honored.” But you should not feel obligated… She left the second thought out, as denying a Prince would be a mistake and in poor taste. In truth, she quite enjoyed Rhaegar’s company. He was respectful and seemed to have a genuine interest when she spoke. He didn’t look at her like she was just a girl. “But we best hurry, I believe the flooding will come sooner than expected.” She bunched her skirts a bit in her hands, to avoid them dragging the slowly saturated soil. However, as soon as she turned on her heels, the heavens opened and let loose a torrential downpour. As much as she would have loved to dance in the rain, it wasn’t exactly the behavior expected of a proper lady, but that thought left her mind when the rain began to stream down the back of her gown, soaking her to her bones.
