Lyanna Snow sat glaring down at her needle work. She was sat next to Arya and Sansa, her half sister's, watching as Sansa flourished whist Arya failed like her bastard sister. Lyanna paid no attention to Septa Mordane who was lecturing her on how to improve her stitches. Instead she was watching Jon, Robb and Bran practice archery whilst Rickon was sat on a barrel behind them, watching them shoot. Lyanna whished she had been born as a boy so she could learn how to fight instead of sew.

Lyanna was a bastard, hence the name Snow, and a girl, which left her in an awkward position. She could not go to the wall like regular bastards. She could not marry a high born because of her awkward birth status. She could not fight for her father's army because she was a girl. It felt like everything was restricted because of things which were out of Lyanna's control.

"Lyanna!" the Septa snapped at her. Sansa was to polite to laugh so instead looked down at her perfect stiches whilst Arya looked at Lyanna and the Septa, almost in sympathy. When Arya was not being snapped at, Lyanna was. "Your stitches are all wrong! Do you even care?"

Instead of correcting her mistake like she should have, Lyanna stood up. "No, I do not care," she shook her head. She glanced over at Arya who was smirking at her. "If you want me, I'll be with my brother's,"

Lyanna walked out of the little room where she had been sewing, ignoring the shouts from the Septa. Lyanna saw the targets where her brother's were shooting and ran towards them. She grabbed a bow and made her way to stand next to Jon. Jon noticed his twin sister and grinned at her.

"Are you done with your lesson today?" he asked, his tone teasing the fact that she had to do boring lessons whilst him and the other boys got to practice fighting.

"If it was up to me, my lessons would be done forever," she groaned, which made her brother laugh. She watched as Bran, her second to youngest brother, strung up his bow and shot far too soon. The arrow flew wonkily and hit the ground in front of the target. The two other boys sniggered along with Lyanna.

"Which of you was an archer at nine?" she heard her father's voice say from where he was stood on one of the balconies next to his wife, Lady Stark. Lyanna smiled slightly at her father as Lady Stark glared at her and Jon.

Lyanna grabbed an arrow from where Bran was stood. She knocked it, drew back the string, took in a deep breath and aimed for the center of the same target Bran was shooting at. The feathers from the arrow's flights tickled her right cheek gently for a few seconds before she let go of the string and let her arrow fly, straight into the center of the target. Lyanna heard her father clap as Jon and Robb hit her on the back. Bran looked at her jealously.

"How do you do it right?" he asked, turning to Robb and Jon, his tone irritated.

"Ask Lyanna, she's the best at it," their father called down to them, which made Lyanna beam.

Lyanna knelt next to her younger brother who was holding his own, much smaller bow. She knocked the arrow on for him, before leaving him to pull back the string.

"Pull the string back far enough until you can feel the flights at your cheek," she instructed. She watched as his elbow stuck out, instead of being in a perfect line. "Elbow straight, now concentrate on the target," she told him. He did what she said and just as he was about to fire, another arrow flew past them and hit the target.

Bran dropped what would have been a decent shot and spun around with the two other boys and Lyanna to see Arya holding a bow, taking a curtsy. Lyanna laughed as Bran dropped the bow and ran after his sister, chasing her. Lyanna heard her father laugh at his two children. Lyanna glanced over at Robb who was smirking at her.

"What are you looking at, Stark?" She smirked back at him.

"I was just thinking how good you would be at the wall if you were a boy, the standards would go right up," Robb said to her, hitting her arm gently.

"Maybe I should cut my hair and pretend to be a boy," she shrugged, tugging on her long, black hair.

"Then we'd all mistake Jon for you," Robb laughed, which made his half brother glare at him.

"Jon, Robb, Bran, Lyanna," Their father called. "We're going on a ride, a deserter from the wall needs executing and you're coming with me,"

Lyanna was confused at this. Her father had occasionally had to go and execute deserters from the wall; it was his duty as warden of the North. As they got older, he took Robb and Jon, but never her or Bran. Lady Catelyn always said Bran was too young and it was not a ladies place to witness such horrible things. As much as she wanted to be with her brother's, part of Lyanna was grateful to Catelyn for saying that to her father. She was not all that keen to see a man have his head chopped off.

Lyanna stood next to Jon as the stable boys brought forward their horses, fully saddled. Lyanna mounted her pure white mare whilst Jon did the same with his stallion. She put her feet in the stirrups, toes to heaven, heels to hell. She watched as her father and other brothers mounted their horses, feeling excitement running though her. Lyanna shouldn't be excited for this; it was a man's execution, not her name day.

Lyanna gripped the reins tightly and gently kicked her horse into motion, just as her father did the same. Jon, Lyanna and Bran rode along side each other whilst Robb and Theon, their father's steward, riding in front of them whilst their father and ser Rodrick lead them.

Lyanna kicked her horse into a gallop just as the rest of the procession did. She wanted to catch up with her father to ask him why he had brought her along but she couldn't just yet. She knew he would be focused on the fact he was about to take a man's life. She couldn't disturb his focus.

As if he could read her mind Jon spoke, calling out over the wind. "Why do you think you're coming along?" he asked her, shouting because of the wind. They were moving that fast she could hardly hear him.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Neither do I," he said, honesty in his tone.

She wondered if her father was showing her the responsibility of a man and why she should value being a woman, who did not have to carry out executions. She highly doubted that as her father had always valued the fact that she wanted to fight more than be womanly. HYe always encoraged her masculine side, which was something he rarely did with Sansa and Arya. Lyanna guessed that was because she was just his bastard, whilst Arya and Sansa were trueborn Stark's. They were more valuable to him than Lyanna was. He could marry them off to rich lords and create alliances with other houses. Lyanna was no use for that. Even if she was a pure blooded Stark, she would still want to fight. She would still prefer to go to the Wall than be married off to a rich lord.

In that sense, Lyanna was free. She could still not do want she wanted, but she didn't have to be signed away to a noble man as his wife. She would not have to be someone's lady. She would never have to worry about houses and the possibility of being married off to an old pervert like Walder Frey to join two houses. Unless she was legitimised, which would probably never happen.

Whilst Lyanna was caught up in her thoughts about marrage and legitimisation, she did not notice that they had stopped. She pulled her mare to a stop next to Jon and Bran, whilst their father dismounted and Theon handed him his sword Ice. Robb and Ser Rodrick's horse's were closer to the scene, but Lyanna did not want to get any closer. She did not want to see a man lose his life whilst she had the rest of hers to live. Though he was a deserter and he had broken his vow he was apparently one of the longest serving men. He wouldn't have left his post if it wasn't urgent.

From this distance, they couldn't hear all what their father was saying to the man about to die, but the three of them could see that the man was in position for his head to be removed. Lyanna saw Bran staring at their father, almost intently.

"Do not look away," Jon said to the pair of them. "Father will know if you do,"

Lyanna nodded to her brother and watched as their father swung his sword and took the man's head clean off. She winced slightly, seeing all the blood come from the man's neck. The man's body had gone completely limp. Lyanna turned her horse away, not wanting to look any longer.

"You did well," she heard Jon tell Bran.

"Yeah, it's not everyday you see your first execution without fainting," Robb said, his horse trotting over to them. "Did you hear what the man said?" Lyanna looked back over her shoulder to see the man's body again, his head under the foot of a sniggering Theon.

She shook her head to Robb who continued talking. "He says he saw White Walkers," he said, which made Lyanna's eyes widen in shock.

"White Walkers haven't been seen for a thousand years, I thought they only existed in Old Nan's stories," Lyanna said, whilst Bran nodded.

Robb shrugged. "He may of been lying. Think about it, he was about to be killed, you'd say anything to delay it slightly,"

"I don't think White Walkers are something to joke about," Lyanna said, almost too quietly as she kicked her horse into a walk. Her brother's copied her and they rode in a line, each of them on their own horse, except for Bran who was only big enough for a pony.

"True, but who knows now? It's not like we can ask him if he was joking," Robb laughed quietly, making Lyanna smirk at something which would normally be considered not funny.

The conversation then drifted onto other matters, though Lyanna rarely contributed. As the four of them headed into a woodland area, Jon and Robb kicked their horses into a canter, challenging each other to a race. Lyanna would normally of hung back with Bran, but she needed to speak to her father. She hung back as Bran rode on, waiting for her father to catch up.

When her lord father caught up to her, he looked at her curiously before smiling at her.

"What are you doing, Lyanna, why aren't you with you with the other's?" he asked his eldest daughter.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "Why am I here, father? Why di you bring me along today?" She asked, all in one breath. He chuckled to himself at her question.

"Why do you think?" he questioned her. Lyanna frowned. All of her ideas could be right but could equally be wrong. She did not want to say them if they were to be incorrect and would embarrass her.

When she did not answer, Lord Eddard began speaking again. "You seem more interested in the art of warfare and fighting than your lessons with the Septa,"

Lyanna laughed. "It's not hard to be more interested in that stuff rather than sewing, one reason being if I'm caught in a dark alley, faced by two bandits, with no training the best I can do is sew a dress in front of them. Even then the stitches would be wonky and wrong,"

Her father laughed at her, shaking his head. "I just wanted to show you that it is not an art, fighting," he said. "It is not something to be taken lightly, something which can be done casually,"

"I know that, I know what fighting both with and without training can lead to," Lyanna nodded to her father.

"And winter is coming so you need to be ready, a lot worse things than what you've seen today will happen in winter, my summer child, a lot worse things than beheadings, and you need to be prepared,"

"Is that why you brought me today, to get me used to death?"

Her father nodded. "That and I heard you talking to Robb about the Wall. Do you wish to go?"

Lyanna shrugged. If the Septa could see her, she would have been lectured about being ladylike. "I don't know, there aren't many other options for me,"

"Marriage?" he suggested. Lyanna wrinkled her nose up in disgust, which made him chuckle at her. "I hat to be blunt but it's not like you're legitimate. If you were a boy, I'd end you to the wall, even though you're so young. Your uncle Benjen would take both you and Jon, except you're a girl,"

"Last time uncle Benjen visited, he told us they were short on men," Lyanna said. "If they're that short on men, then I'm sure they'd take me,"

Though she had never thought about it much because of the fact it was more or less impossible, she liked the idea of going to the Wall. She liked the idea of being part of something. She liked the idea of protecting people who do not know her, who do not know her name, who know nothing about her except she was there to protect the people and the kingdoms. If she died on the Wall, it would be a good death most likely, sacrificing her life for one in the seven kingdoms, who won't know her sacrifice but will know someone will have died to keep them safe.

"Is the Wall what you want?" Lord Stark questioned her,frowning at Lyanna. Lyanna thought before nodding.

"It is. Please father, please ask uncle Benjen if I can go, please," she began begging. He chuckled at her again.

"If that is what you want, I will ask, but that does not mean you stop being a lady," he addressed.

"How can one stop being a lady?" she asked him, laughing slightly.

"I am giving you an opportunity here," he began. "One month of training with the boys, with no lessons from the Septa. If I do not see you improving or practicing hard enough by the end of the month, it will be back to lessons and being a proper lady. If you convince me that you're a good enough fighter, then I'm sure we can both convince Benjen,"

Lyanna beamed and knew that if they weren't on horseback she would have hugged her father. Just as she was about to thank him, she heard Robb shout them.

"Father, Lyanna!" he called loudly from over a brook under some trees. "Come look what Jon's found!"

Lyanna and the others kicked their horses into a canter and reached where Robb was in seconds. In curiosity, she jumped down from her horse and ran to her brothers. Jon was knelt down looking at something furry. She knelt down next to him to see him looking at a dead wolf. Except it wasn't just a wolf, it was a Dire wolf. That was when Jon reached out behind the wolf where a whimpering noise was coming from. His hands emerged, holding a small bundle of fur. A Dire wolf pup!

Bran grinned seeing the puppy. Jon handed the pup to him and Bran stroked it through his leather gloves. Jon reached out and pulled out four more puppies. Lyanna held back a squeal in delight. She loved dogs and had always wanted one except she had never had the opportunity to get one.

"Dire wolves haven't been seen south of the wall for thousands of years," Ser Rodrick commented. He was obviously worried about the wolves. Dire wolves were dangerous animals; he had a right to be scared.

"Their mother's dead, it's best we give them a quick death," Theon suggested, handing a knife to Lord Stark. Their father nodded, taking the knife. He held it up the pup Bran held, about to kill it, despite Bran's protests.

Just as Eddard was about to kill the poor thing, Lyanna spoke up. "Lord Stark," she spoke loudly, which made him raise his head and look at her.

"There are five wolf pups and you have five children," Jon cut in, speaking for her. "The Dire wolf is the symbol of the Stark house. These pups are meant for the Stark children,"

Their father nodded, turning to Robb and Bran. "You feed them yourselves, you train them yourselves and, when the time comes, you bury them yourselves," he said handing the knife back to Theon.

Lyanna didn't voice her disappointment. Why couldn't there have been seven puppies, another two for her and Jon? It was almost like Bran could tell this so he spoke up.

"What about you and Jon, Lyanna?" he asked holding a pup in each hand.

Lyanna shook her head whilst Jon spoke for her again. "We're not Stark's, we're Snow's,"

Just as she was thinking about it, she heard more whimpering. She looked back to where the mother wolf was laid dead to see something squirming underneath her. Lyanna looked up to Jon who had seen it too. The two of them knelt back down and pushed the wolf corpse away further to see two white puppies squirming around, licking each other's noses.

Jon reached out and picked up the first one with the scruff of its neck and looked at it in awe. It was pure white and although its eyes were closed, Lyanna guessed that it had red, albino eyes. Lyanna picked the other up the same way Jon had done with his. Lyanna's was almost identical to Jon's except her's had a large black patch around its left eye and the tip of its tail was black as well.

"Runts," Theon laughed. "They'll die quicker,"

"Not likely, Greyjoy," Lyanna glared at him, holding her wolf pup, cuddling it to her chest.

"these runts belong to us," Jon said, grinning at his sister, holding his own wolf pup.

And just like that, Winterfell had seven new furry residents.

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Hello again.
I really love Lyanna and her relationship with Ned. To be honest I just love Ned full stop (I'm actually from Sean Bean's home city which is awesome because the Winterfell accent is a Sheffield one so I sound like I'm from Winterfell).
I'm sorry the chapter is so long but once I get started writing I can't stop!
Please vote and give me some feed back in the comments!
See you next time!
~Olivia