location: winterfell yard
time: just after lunch
A little more than a week had gone by after their ride to the woods, and much to Lyanna’s dismay her parents and her brothers had seemed to pick up on something, because they hadn’t taken their eyes off Robert and herself for a second. His visit was coming to an end, and even though she knew it was going to be the first one of many, she had been expecting to spend a little more time alone with him - at least to get one of those kisses that had been driving her insane every since that morning. Yet, her family had made it impossible. Whenever she got to see him, they were surrounded, unable to escape; and Ned and her father consumed most of his time anyway. It was ridiculous, she had complained to her mother one afternoon, that she was the one getting married and yet the person he got to see less. Lyarra, perceptive as always, had only raised an inquisitive eyebrow and asked her what had changed; why she wanted to see more of Robert all of a sudden.
She was right. Lyanna had spent days going on and on about how little she wanted to get married, and how she’d prefer to go to battle, to serve Winterfell for the rest of her life or to do pretty much anything else other than getting a husband. It was more than strange to hear her complain about how said husband was being made pass the time with someone else other than her. After that, she had just dropped the subject, afraid that her mother was really onto something.
These last days had been particularly excruciating, and he could tell Robert felt the same way. The looks they offered each other from a distance, often at feasts or across any room they were in at the same time, had become borderline sinful. She wasn’t sure how exactly her body was going to react next time they were alone, but she knew it needed to be soon. The old gods were on her side that afternoon, it seemed, when her father told her that her betrothed had asked for permission to teach her how to defend herself for an hour or two. She met Robert at the training yard, her favourite sword ready, her hair up in a tight braid. “I see you’ve wasted no time, milord. Thank you for fulfilling your promise.”