Chapter Text
Looking in the mirror, Lyanna almost cannot recognise herself. Her dark curling hair is bound around her head in elaborate braids that took an arm of quick-fingered maids and all hair is out of her face, which is a rare thing indeed. Grandmother Rhaelle told her it brings out the slight purple hint in her eyes, which also is helped by how pale her face is.
Lyanna looks at herself in the mirror more closely than ever she has before. Her eyes are quite big, her nose rather small, her eyebrows are thin but long and her freckles are still there, unfortunately.
She looks over to handmaidens who are sorting out her dress. Once she is wed she shall take on true ladies-in-waiting, daughters and wives of nobles lords, but for now she has the - rather few - women in her family with her, along with some maids.
Grandmother Rhaelle is there, come down to the capital from Winterfell for the time in a long while. Great-grandmother Betha, who Lyanna has known only for a week, offers Lyanna some comforting words about wedding into the family of dragons. It is odd for Lyanna to think of Queen Betha as the spirited, adventurous young woman from the stories but the woman was still fierce and loving as Grandmother and Father have always said.
Mother is also here too, seemingly as uncomfortable as Lyanna herself in the South, for the most southron from Winterfell Lyarra Stark has gone is Raventree Hall, as far as Lyanna knows. Even for Aunt Branda’s wedding in the Stormlands - but that’s because her mother and aunt have not been on speaking terms for a long while... since the wedding of her aunt and Ser Harold Rogers, actually.
Lyanna remembers her mother and father saying something about how Aunt Branda had never felt at home in the North, despite being born and raised and never knowing anything else... until she went to a tourney at Riverrun and met Ser Harrold. Oh, and when they thought Lyanna couldn’t hear, her parents spoke of Branda’s selfishness, her lack of the loyalty and family-first mindset that was so common in the House of Stark.
However, Lyanna thought her Aunt Branda was a brilliant woman with the same wit and humour she had herself, except Branda Stark Rogers was much more of a southron Lady than Lyanna can ever hope to be. In truth, she doesn’t understand why her mother resents her aunt’s choice of husband though. Mother always complains- rightfully so- about how unfair it is that girls’ and women’s fates are chosen by the women around them - isn’t it absolutely brilliant that Aunt Branda chose her husband and home? Lyanna thought so.
It is easy to see Branda has lived in the South for over two decades now; her skin is tanned, her hair far lighter than it must have been once, and she has less lines across her face - well, she has laughing lines around her eyes and mouth and even as she speaks with the sister who, as far as Lyanna knows, completely ignored her after she fell in love, Branda seems content.
That is who I wish to be, she thinks.
The only other women of her blood in the room are her cousins, Mariah and Alynne. They are Aunt Branda and Ser Harrold’s children, with a brother named Jasper in between them.
Mariah was older and married to Arren Dayne, who was the half-brother of Prince Aerys and Princess Rhaella and the child of once-princess Shaera who was to be at her wedding, so now she was Lady of Starfall. She looked the part of a Dayne with her dress of lilac silk with a silver stash over her and her dark hair - which curled like Lyanna’s - was braided simply around her head to show off her skin, far more tanned than Lyanna’s would ever be. Her eyes were a lovely dark green that Lyanna supposed came from her father and her nose and ears were very small.
Apart from looks, Mariah Dayne also was someway similar to Lyanna. Mariah loved to ride and climb, once wanted to learn the ways of the sword, though she told Lyanna she now preferred the bow and arrow. Her cousin, unfortunately wouldn’t be staying in the capital as one of Lyanna’s ladies after the wedding - because, as she said, Starfall needed an heir and she suspected she was with child; though, apparently, she would wait for this pregnancy to be confirmed with the maester at Starfall because she didn’t trust Pycelle.
Alynne Rogers would be staying with Lyanna as a lady, though they were unsure how long for as Alynne had been betrothed to Aemon Estermont for a while now and they would soon be due to wed. Lyanna thought that Aemon was a lucky man to wed Alynne. Not only was she liked a maiden from the songs Lyanna adored - with her big, dark green eyes, button nose, curling dark blonde hair and lovely smile; truly, she looked like a princess - but she was also sweet and kind and also had a wonderfully dark sense of humour.
Lyanna almost resented her mother for not speaking to Aunt Branda, for if the women were on talking terms she might know her cousins. And surely Brandon and Mariah would have got on brilliantly, as would Ned and Alynne, surely. Lyanna has yet to meet Jasper but if he grew up with Mariah and Alynne he must be a good enough man.
“Are you ready for your dress?” Aunt Branda, who knows more of Southron fashion than Lyanna and her mother ever will, asks.
Lyanna nods a yes and looks to the dress she will be wed in. She knew little about any fashion, let alone dresses, but even she could tell this was utterly beautiful. It was white and grey, made with fabrics from Dorne and the Reach but also there was some woolly material from the North to honour her homeland. The stitching too was done to perfection and there were miniature wolves running around the waist.
“It’s beautiful,” Lyanna says aloud, unable to help it. Yet, by the end of the night it’ll be ruined from drunken men tearing at it.
“You look like the princess you shall be,” Alynne tells her with a smile, holding Lyanna’s maiden cloak.
The heavy maiden cloak is placed on Lyanna, who wears a nervous smile. She cannot be nervous though, she is to be a princess. I am a Stark, I can be brave. I must be.
The Sept of Baelor was truly magnificent, Lyanna can almost see why people believe the gods are here. And yet... the Old gods have no home in the sept. Her gods were made for windy days, tall mountains, vast lands, cold snow, storm nights... not pretty buildings.
She looks to her father as the doors open. Lord Rickard Stark nods to her, looking so proud of her. “I love you, father,” she whispers as they turn to face the crown within the sept.
“And I you, my wolf,” he tells her, “I am so very proud of you.”
There is no time to reply because they must walk through the sept down to where Prince Rhaegar stands beside King Aegon and Prince Aerys. Then, at the side, were all the other Targaryens. How am I to ever remember all these names? Lyanna wonders helplessly.
As they walk past her own family, Brandon gives her the thumbs up and Benjen sticks his tongue out, which helps her mood. But it is Ned’s comforting smile that she remembers throughout the day. Her mother is holding back tears, Lyanna sees, but she manages a smile for her.
Soon enough, her father leads her to stand beside Prince Rhaegar. He is truly beautiful, even more so than he had been last week, when they first met. His hair is long for a man’s and is as silver as any Targaryens, his eyes were deep purple, almost like her father’s. Rhaegar was taller than a typical Targaryen but he was just as pale. His smile was almost shy and when his hand met hers Lyanna found that his touch was gentle.
Perhaps I can be happy here, she thinks, she hopes.
They say their prayers and vows and just like that, she is a woman wed. A princess, a Targaryen. The red and black cloak is heavy on her shoulders but Lyanna doesn’t show it - she is brave, she is still a Stark.
Her wedding feast is as glorious as one would expect. Lyanna dances all night long, first with her husband, of course, where she sees that Rhaegar is very good at dancing and moves quietly and gracefully. Next she dances with her father and brothers, then Robert Baratheon, Elbert Arryn and Jaime Lannister, Oberyn Martell and Arthur Dayne, her cousin Jasper Rogers, among others.
By the time she sits back down, her feet are aching but her smile is wide. Rhaegar sits, talking with Ser Arthur, who Lyanna has noticed he is close to. The knight nods respectfully when he sees her sitting down. Ser Arthur says some words with Rhaegar before leaving to speak with his sister.
“You enjoy dancing?” Rhaegar asks her, a small smile on his lips.
Lyanna nods enthusiastically. “Yes, almost as much as riding. Do you like it? Dancing or riding, I mean.”
“Both, though I admit I am not so good a rider as I might wish,” Rhaegar admits.
She laughs at that. “Perhaps I can teach you. In Winterfell the smallfolk call me half a horse and I’ve only ever been beaten by Brandon in a race. Not even Bethany Ryswell can beat me, and she’s good.”
“Wonderful,” Rhaegar says, and an awkward silence follows as neither can think of what to say.
Eventually, Lyanna cannot bear it anymore. “Do you like... riding with your siblings? You have a few, do you not?”
There is an amused smile on the prince’s face. “Yes, mother and father blessed me to never be alone - or have a moment of privacy.” Lyanna laughs at that, understanding how difficult siblings can be. “Shaena is about your age, I believe, and is sure to be happy to welcome you as a sister. Daeron is... loud and boisterous and my complete opposite in... everything, really.
“Aegon is more of a warrior than I shall ever be and Jaehaerys is a brilliant strategist at nine, young Viserys... I do not know him so well but he is a sweet child who loves making others smile.”
That causes Lyanna to smile. When Rhaegar asks of her siblings, the smile grows bigger still. “Brandon is as Northern as you can get; he is loud and confident and loyal, he can ride and fight and drink. He has a good heart, despite the impression he gives of caring not at all. Then Ned... well, he was fostered away when I was young but he is kind and caring and selfless, I wish I knew him better. But Benjen I know all too well! He is my greatest friend.” And the one I shall miss the most.
“They can visit,” Rhaegar promises, “and you surely must go back to Winterfell a few times - for royal business, of course.” Rhaegar winks at her and Lyanna laughs - then men call for the bedding and Rhaegar turns solemn again.
He promises not to cause her anymore pain than is required and Lyanna is happy to see he keeps to that promise. Still, that night she dreams of Winterfell and snow and wolves and everything else she shall miss.