Ghosts in the Shell — AU {Ned & Lyanna}
When Jon Arryn had died, and that Robert had told her they would go to Winterfell to see Ned, a smile had spread across her lips. A wide, joyful smile, a one that she hadn't had for a long time. Since that moment, she had spent her days in a haze, telling her maids what to take with her, and preparing the children for the long journey north. For the long journey towards her family.
Eleven years had been awfully long, now that she came to think of it. At first, there had been loads of ravens between her and her brother. But as time went by, they grew scarcer and scarcer, and now, it was only to announce an important wedding, or the birth of another child. They had been four, but only two remained. The first one, a boy, had been stillborn, which had left her devastated, and had been the first step towards her transformation. The second one, a daughter, was now 9 years old, and looked very much like her mother, though she showed more interests in sewing and stitching that Lyanna had shown at the same age... The third one was a boy of 7, strong-builded like his father, and already so wild Robert had to take him hunting with him, despite his wife's protests. The last one had been a girl, killed by greyscale at the age of 2. That had finished to destroy the Stark queen.
But now wasn't the time where she wanted to speak of the past. She focused on the preparations for the week-long journey, choosing her gowns and presents for the Lady Stark and the children. She knew their names by heart, as she often repeated them to herself in the darkness of her bedroom, when Robert was still drinking with his bannermen and knights. There was Robb, the firstborn, the heir of Winterfell. Lyanna imagined him to be exactly like his father, and that made her smile. Then came Sansa, who had to be the fairest of all, in Lyanna's mind. There was Arya, and somehow, she thought there had to be something of her in Ned's daughter. Bran and Rickon were the last sons, still young and she thought they had to be full of life. She smiled at the thought of them, and that she would soon see them in the flesh.
When news of births at Winterfell came to King's Landing, there had been a time where Lyanna had been utterly jealous of Catelyn Tully. She thought that it wasn't fair, that all her children were healthy, and that she had never experienced the death of a child. But then she would thought of all the consequences her runaway had brought the realm, and she would be resigned about her fate - it was the way of the gods to punish her for her behavior. The Starks family counted five, healthy kids, whereas the Baratheon only had two while it should have been four.
"Moira !" Lyanna called for her daughter, as she entered her bedroom, to find her properly folding her dresses into her trunk. The mother sighed - if only she had been that way at the same age... Perhaps that would have spared her family much trouble and grief. "Everything's alright, Mother" the girl smiled, dark brown ringlets cascading along her back. She smiled back. "Don't forget to ask Alyn to do your hair, my love" she reminded her, before going out.
It was another story for her son, Marek. She found him fighting in the courtyard with Robert's squire, while he should have been packing like her sister. "Now is not the time to play, child" Lyanna had scolded him, while thinking she had been the exact same anytime they had to leave Winterfell. The boy had pouted and tried to lure her into playing a little more, but she had grown intransigeant during all those years. "Now." she had said, and that had been her final word.
Finally, she had looked for Robert, only to learn that His Grace had gone hunting in the Kingswood, and she sighed. Lyanna couldn't even be sad anymore. The first year, it had been a great pain to know he had chosen to go with his knights, instead of being with her when she had given birth to their first child. She had suffered alone, only surrounded by the midwife and one of her maids to hold her hand, and to take her in her arms when the sad news had fallen upon them. The King only returned a week later, and he didn't weep for his firstborn. That was when Lyanna understood that nothing would ever be the same.
Upon departing, she had a slight fit of madness. She went up to Robert, who rode at the front with his bannermen, to ask him if she could ride with them. He looked down at her, and laughed. "My sweet wife, a horse is not a place for a Queen. Stay with the children and do not disturb me about it again." She didn't even fight about it - she had grown tired of it throughout the years. At first, it had been everyday, then it was less and less, until she had given up and resigned herself to be the lady he expected her to be.
The journey went slower than expected, or perhaps that was because she was far too excited to reach the castle of her childhood. She fed her children with amazing tales of Winterfell, of the Wall, and all of those frightening ones she would always ask of Old Nan. Moira didn't like them, at all, but Marek had been delighted by them, and seemed eager to meet his cousins. When the round towers of Winterfell had been in sight, Lyanna had to control herself not to climb on a horse to ride as fast as possible to meet her brother - she knew she would have outrun Robert, even after all those years. So she had simply waited, and soon they had found themselves in the courtyard of the castle.
She couldn't hold herself any longer, and when she saw the Lord Eddard Stark, standing there besides his wife and children, she thought to herself that she didn't care a bit for the protocol, and went running for him, jumping at his neck. She could only imagine the horrified glances of the knights behind her, and perhaps Robert's, too. "Oh, Ned !" she exclaimed, burying her face in his furs and hugging him tightly. "I have missed you so much "!
