@beforethesummer plotted for a starter
Lyarra was far from being overjoyed when told they had to go back to Winterfell again. They had gone for a visit only some six moons beforehand, and to go back again seemed a little excessive. It had been fine while there, but not home. Things had been a little more formal, a little more stiff. But her parents insisted, and Branda seemed excited to go, so accompany them she must. It was on the journey there that her sister revealed her thoughts on the matter: that their cousin needed a wife. Lyarra had pointed out that there were plenty other girls from other families in the North to choose from, but Branda would not sway from her suspicions. Lyarra was not quite sure how she felt about such a possibility.
When they arrived, she looked at her cousin in a way she hadn’t thought about looking before. Handsome enough, she supposed. Big, broad, strong, but... quiet. Quieter than she would have liked. But she was the younger of the two, probably brought along for the sake of it, when Branda was the one Lord Edwyle wanted for his son. Although Branda was often a bore too, Lyarra thought.
The day after their arrival, Lyarra had grown bored already, and was entertaining herself in the stables. She was fond of the horses, and found company in them when talk with people did not live up to her expectations. Especially her own mare. A dappled grey yearling she had taken to calling Dalla. She spoke quietly to her, comforting her as she stayed in this strange place, when she heard someone else enter. She never knew how to greet Rickard. Branda always curtsied, but he was not that much older than them, and their cousin. Surely formalities could be overlooked.
“Going for a ride?” she asked simply.
