"Word from our King, your brother," Maester Luwin read the parchment that had been sent to Winterfell by Robb Stark, "He is fine, our Young Wolf has not lost any battles, and he has a Lannister in his hands"

Lyanna had become interested, Robb may have captured one of the Lannister, it would not be the dwarf, Tyrion Lannister because her mother, Catelyn had him arrested then let him go when his champion won the trail combat in Eyrie. Lyanna turned and twisted her dagger on the table. Maester Luwin, and Ser Rodrik had brought in the news while Lyanna broke her fast. "Who?" she asked.

"Jamie Lannister" Ser Rodrik said.

Twin brother of Cersei Lannister, the rumour had reached Winterfell of Jamie and Cersei's incest relationship. Lyanna was not sure if she believed them.

"Has Robb executed him yet?" she asked.

"My lady," Maester Luwin said disappointedly, "Jamie Lannister could be the key of bringing your sisters back, if Queen Cersei and King Joffrey are willing negotiate with King Robb to trade Jamie for Sansa and Arya"

"They killed my father" She muttered.

"It is unfair, but you will lose your sisters as well" Maester Luwin said.

Lyanna pulled her dagger off the table, it had been days since her father was executed for treason. It seemed like it has been a long time since she last saw her father. Last thing he made her a promise was to look out her brothers, Robb, Bran and Rickon.

Look out for them, tell Bran I'll come back when he wakes up. Her father said when he and Lyanna said their goodbyes before he left to King's Landing.

You're going to come for my wedding. Her sister, Sansa said, she was full of excitement and happiness when she left.

I'll be better than you once I come back. Arya said and smiled. Meaning she'll be better at sword fighting with Lyanna.

Lyanna wondered about Sansa, she and Arya are held captive, Sansa was still to marry Joffrey Baratheon, and Arya to Tommen Baratheon. Yet, Lyanna was worried about them, she dared not to think what the Lannisters are doing to them like if they're mistreating the girls.

"You won't like this, my lady" Ser Rodrik said.

Lyanna knew she won't, she shook her head, not wanting Rodrik to tell her.

"You are to marry one of Walder Frey's true born sons"

Lyanna sighed, immediately feeling annoyed, she struck her dagger on the table then twist it. "I'm not going marry one of Frey bastards" she said. Walder has become famous for siring many children and surviving many wives. He is currently married to his eighth wife and has over a hundred descendants, base and trueborn. He has had twenty-two trueborn sons and seven trueborn daughters from his marriages, with an unknown number of bastard sons and daughters.

"Perwyn Frey is not a bastard"

"Let me guess, is he a thousandth son of Walder's?" Lyanna said with attitude.

"Robb and Arya are also to marry his children"

She slightly laughed, knowing Arya well, she wouldn't be interested, and she will be angry once she heard the news.

"Lyanna, this will seal a peace between the Starks and the Freys" Maester Luwin explained, "Robb Stark's army will grow larger, enough to take King's Landing"

Lyanna sighed again, just a marriage, maybe once Robb kills the Lannisters and the King, I shall murder my husband-to-be in his sleep. "Who is he? Perwyn?" she questioned.

"He's fifth year older than you, he is a knight, and they say he's a decent young man. Your mother and Robb say he is a great knight"

"He's a Frey" Lyanna muttered.

She found Visenya waiting for her outside of the Hall, Visenya was no longer a pup anymore, and she had reached Lyanna's waist. She found Rickon playing wooden swords with Little Walder in the yard, Little Walder was tall and stout with a red face and big round belly. Lyanna quietly laughed when Little Walder moved like a pig that barely moved fast. She wondered where Bran was, she had told Visenya to find her brother, Summer. Visenya walked off as she lead Lyanna the way.

She knew where Visenya was going, Lyanna found her in the godswood, the wolf was sitting down, making herself comfortable, Bran was watching, the Reed children were there also, and to Lyanna's surprise, Meera seemed to be challenging Summer.

Meera moved in a wary circle, her net dangling loose in her left hand, the slender three-pronged frog spear poised in her right. Summer followed her with his golden eyes, turning, his tail held stiff and tall. Watching, watching . . .

"What is she doing?" Lyanna asked her brother, Bran. She watched at Meera as if she was mad.

"She's trying to beat Summer" Bran said quietly. Lyanna almost laughed, but she was more confused.

Brave girl, she thought. No one else has dared to challenge the direwolves.

"Yai!" the girl shouted, the spear darting out. The wolf slid to the left and leapt before she could draw back the spear. Meera cast her net, the tangles unfolding in the air before her. Summer's leap carried him into it. He dragged it with him as he slammed into her chest and knocked her over backward. Her spear went spinning away. The damp grass cushioned her fall but the breath went out of her in an "Oof." The wolf crouched atop her.

Bran hooted. "You lose."

"She wins," her brother Jojen said. "Summer's snared."

Bran frowned "Let him go"

Laughing, the Reed girl threw her arms around the tangled wolf and rolled them both. Summer gave a piteous whine, his legs kicking against the cords that bound them. Meera knelt, undid a twist, pulled at a corner, tugged deftly here and there, and suddenly the direwolf was bounding free.

"Summer, to me." Bran spread his arms. "Watch," he said, an instant before the wolf bowled into him. He clung with all his strength as the wolf dragged him bumping through the grass. They wrestled and rolled and clung to each other, one snarling and yapping, the other laughing. In the end it was Bran sprawled on top, the mud-spattered direwolf under him. "Good wolf," he panted. Summer licked him across the ear.

Meera shook her head. "Does your wolves never grow angry?"

Lyanna shook her head, "Visenya never gets angry, not even once, she listens to me, but I think she only gets angry when I'm angry. She wept with me when I heard of my father's death"

"Not with me as well." Bran grabbed the wolf by his ears and Summer snapped at him fiercely, but it was all in play. "Sometimes he tears my garb but he's never drawn blood."

"Your blood, you mean. If he'd gotten past my net . . . "

"He wouldn't hurt you. He knows I like you." All of the other lords and knights had departed within a day or two of the harvest feast, but the Reeds had stayed to become Bran's constant companions. Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Lyanna of her sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. She was older than Arya, though; almost sixteen, a woman grown. They were both older than Bran, even though his ninth name day had finally come and gone, but they never treated him like a child.

Arya was much confident than Lyanna, much more boy active and interested in being a knight. Not Lyanna, never thought of being a knight, or a Queen.

"I wish you were our wards instead of the Walders." Bran began to struggle toward the nearest tree. His dragging and wriggling was unseemly to watch, but when Meera moved to lift him he said, "No, don't help me." He rolled clumsily and pushed and squirmed backward, using the strength of his arms, until he was sitting with his back to the trunk of a tall ash. "See, I told you." Summer lay down with his head in Bran's lap. "I never knew anyone who fought with a net before," he told Meera while he scratched the direwolf between the ears. "Did your master-at-arms teach you net-fighting?"

"My father taught me. We have no knights at Greywater. No master-at-arms, and no maester."

"Who keeps your ravens?"

She smiled. "Ravens can't find Greywater Watch, no more than our enemies can."

Lyanna curiously asked "Why not?"

"Because it moves," she told them.

Lyanna had never heard of a moving castle before. She looked at both children uncertainly, but she couldn't tell whether she was teasing her or not.

Bran began "I wish I could see it. Do you think your lord father would let me come visit when the war is over?"

"You would be most welcome, my prince. Then or now."

"Now?" Bran had spent his whole life at Winterfell. He yearned to see far places. "I could ask Ser Rodrik when he returns." The old knight was off east earlier after the meeting, trying to set to rights the trouble there. Roose Bolton's bastard had started it by seizing Lady Hornwood as she returned from the harvest feast, marrying her that very night even though he was young enough to be her son. Then Lord Manderly had taken her castle. To protect the Hornwood holdings from the Boltons, he had written, but Ser Rodrik had been almost as angry with him as with the bastard. "Ser Rodrik might let me go. Maester Luwin never would."

Lyanna retorted "You're The Lord of Winterfell, Bran. You have duties here, you're Robb's heir, maybe you'll go once the war is over"

Bran frowned, "But you do everything, you're the Lady of Winterfell. You go to the meetings and everything, you do most the duties and maybe it's safe there than here"

Sitting cross-legged under the weirwood, Jojen Reed regarded him solemnly. "It would be good if you left Winterfell, Bran."

"It would?" Bran said.

"Yes. And sooner rather than later."

"My brother has the greensight," said Meera. "He dreams things that haven't happened, but sometimes they do."

Lyanna's jaw-dropped, but smiled and almost laughed thinking Meera was joking. "And I'm a White Walker" Lyanna said sarcastically.

"There is no sometimes, Meera." A look passed between them; him sad, her defiant.

"But I thought it was only for the Children of the Forest" Lyanna said. She still did not believe them.

Jojen was staring at her, tilted his head, no smile on his face, no angry look, but he was not joking at all.

"Tell me what's going to happen," Bran said.

"I will," said Jojen, "if you'll tell me about your dreams."

The godswood grew quiet. Lyanna could hear leaves rustling, and Hodor's distant splashing from the hot pools. She thought of Bran when he shared his dreams to her, mentioned the golden man and the three-eyed crow, remembered the crunch of bones between his jaws and the coppery taste of blood. "I don't have dreams. Maester Luwin gives me sleeping draughts."

"Do they help?"

"Sometimes."

Meera said, "All of Winterfell knows you wake at night shouting and sweating, Bran. The women talk of it at the well, and the guards in their hall."

"Tell us what frightens you so much," said Jojen.

"I don't want to. Anyway, it's only dreams. Maester Luwin says dreams might mean anything or nothing."

"My brother dreams as other boys do, and those dreams might mean anything," Meera said, "but the green dreams are different."

Jojen's eyes were the color of moss, and sometimes when he looked at you he seemed to be seeing something else. Like now. "I dreamed of a winged wolf bound to earth with grey stone chains," he said. "It was a green dream, so I knew it was true. A crow was trying to peck through the chains, but the stone was too hard and his beak could only chip at them."

"Did the crow have three eyes?"

Jojen nodded.

Summer raised his head from Bran's lap, and gazed at the mudman with his dark golden eyes.

"When I was little I almost died of greywater fever. That was when the crow came to me."

"He came to me after I fell," Bran blurted. "I was asleep for a long time. He said I had to fly or die, and I woke up, only I was broken and I couldn't fly after all."

"You can if you want to." Picking up her net, Meera shook out the last tangles and began arranging it in loose folds.

"You are the winged wolf, Bran," said Jojen. "I wasn't sure when we first came, but now I am. The crow sent us here to break your chains."

"Is the crow at Greywater?"

"No. The crow is in the north."

"At the Wall?" Bran had always wanted to see the Wall. Their bastard brother Jon was there now, a man of the Night's Watch.

"Beyond the Wall." Meera Reed hung the net from her belt. "When Jojen told our lord father what he'd dreamed, he sent us to Winterfell."

"How would I break the chains, Jojen?" Bran asked.

"Open your eye."

"They are open Can't you see?"

"Two are open." Jojen pointed. "One, two."

"I only have two."

"You have three. The crow gave you the third, but you will not open it." He had a slow soft way of speaking. "With two eyes you see my face. With three you could see my heart. With two you can see that oak tree there. With three you could see the acorn the oak grew from and the stump that it will one day become. With two you see no farther than your walls. With three you would gaze south to the Summer Sea and north beyond the Wall."

Summer got to his feet. "I don't need to see so far." Bran made a nervous smile. "I'm tired of talking about crows. Let's talk about wolves. Or lizard-lions. Have you ever hunted one, Meera? We don't have them here."

Meera plucked her frog spear out of the bushes. "They live in the water. In slow streams and deep swamps-"

Her brother interrupted. "Did you dream of a lizard-lion?"

"No," said Bran. "I told you, I don't want-"

"Did you dream of a wolf?"

He was making Bran angry. "I don't have to tell you my dreams. I'm the prince. I'm the Stark in Winterfell."

"Was it Summer?"

"You be quiet."

"The night of the harvest feast, you dreamed you were Summer in the godswood, didn't you?"

"Stop it!" Bran shouted. Summer slid toward the weirwood, his white teeth bared.

Lyanna decided to say something, she spoke up "My brother said stop, I think it's time for him to go and eat. You must be hungry, Bran. I'll get Hodor--"

Jojen Reed took no mind as he turned to look at Lyanna. "When I touched Visenya, I felt you in her. just as you are in her now."

"You couldn't have. I was in bed. I was sleeping." Lyanna startled

"You were in the godswood, all in grey and white, Lyanna"

Lyanna looked at Jojen confusedly, she did saw Jojen in her dream, and how could he have known this? "It was only a bad dream . . . " Lyanna said uneasy

Jojen stood. "I felt you. And Bran, I felt you fall. Is that what scares you, the falling?... Do you fall every night, Bran?" Joien asked quietly.

A low rumbling growl rose from Summer's throat, and there was no play in it. He stalked forward, all teeth and hot eyes. Meera stepped between the wolf and her brother, spear in hand. "Keep him back, Bran."

"Jojen is making him angry."

Meera shook out her net. "It's your anger, Bran," her brother said. "Your fear."

"It isn't. I'm not a wolf." Yet he'd howled with them in the night, and tasted blood in his wolf dreams.

"Part of you is Summer, and part of Summer is you. You know that, Bran."

"Visenya" Lyanna called, her wolf stood, and stopped beside her, "Don't let your brother harm them" Visenya jumped between Summer and Jojen and Meera. She growled at Summer, he stopped growling an lowered his head.

"Visenya feels you, she's part of you as you're part of her. That's why she listens to you, and because you want Summer to stop and so does she"

Lyanna was rather annoyed, so she called out "Hodor!"

Once Hodor came, she asked him to take Bran back to Winterfell, perhaps the whispers were right about the Reeds, maybe they were crazy.

"We will speak again soon" Jojen said as Lyanna followed Hodor, carrying Bran as Summer and Visenya behind them.