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maidenjediTITLE: Tomorrow We Fight, Tonight We Drink
FANDOM: A Song of Ice and Fire
AUTHOR: Maidenjedi
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Some things that took place before the infamous tournament at Harrenhal.
NOTES: My GOT Exchange fic is submitted, for better or worse. I went through about five or six versions of it, most of which I discarded. But, I did write out a couple of scenes featuring Brandon, Benjen, Ned, Lyanna, and Howland Reed. Thought I'd share them, though there's little chance this will ever go further.
The Starks arrived mid-morning, the day before the official start of the tourney, and made camp outside the walls with the other families. Brandon and Ned began to spar as soon as they could be spared, and Lyanna sat with Benjen to watch.
"I'd rather be in armor, sparring with you," she remarked to her youngest brother. At home she would have, in her own armor and with her own sword.
"You'd feel differently if you were to face Selmy on horseback in a couple of days," said Benjen, as Brandon knocked Ned off his horse for the third time. "Me, I'm glad I don't have to participate in more than the early rounds of sword play. Never was so good at the lance." Ned struggled to his feet and Brandon laughed, apologizing for the blows.
Lyanna was silent, and Benjen squeezed her knee. "You don't fear the lance, I take it."
She smirked. "Neither do you. You fear Selmy."
"Who wouldn't? Man's a terror on horseback, they say."
She smiled and nodded, looking away. Benjen followed her gaze. She was watching the Baratheon tent go up, not far from them. Benjen said, "I see. Marriage is your only weakness, then."
"I do not fear it. Or him. I simply want...."
"Yes. We both do. But we have duties, you and I. You are bound for Storm's End, and I...."
"The Gates of the Moon. Aye. I know. And soon."
"Mother will not let you go before you are ready."
"Brother, I am sixteen. If not now, when?"
With that she stood up, and stuck out her hand. "May I borrow a sword? I wish to practice."
Benjen followed her, and let her beat him. Or believed he did.
-
"Who were they?"
"How many?"
"Why were you even there, Lyanna? You foolish...."
She held up her hands, to stop her brothers' ranting. Howland lay on the pallet behind her, three fingers broken and who knew about his ribs, and likely his nose as well. She gestured to him. "I need bandages, water. I'll tell you all, just get them. He needs our help."
Lyanna had been hiding - or, wandering to clear her head, as she thought of it. Robert Baratheon had come looking for her and she was not ready, she did not wish to see him alone or otherwise quite yet, so she picked up the sword she had been using against Benjen and went for a walk. She came upon three men - boys, really, the oldest was probably younger than her - beating Howland Reed. Howland was just older than she, but quite small, and relatively defenseless. She'd fought the three back quite successfully. She told her brothers all of this as she tended to Howland.
"Do you know who they were?" Brandon's voice was low, and he sat with his head in his hands.
"It was dark, brother. I could not see the colors on their tunics, if they wore any."
"They were drunk," came Howland's voice, hoarse and weak. "One was a Frey, another wore the pitchfork. I did not see the third, did you, Lyanna?" She shook her head.
Ned's jaw worked and he swung a fist into his other hand. "Did they know you, Howland? Why you?"
Howland laughed. "Why not me? I doubt they could tell the difference between me and a serving boy, truth be told. They were drunk and wanted a fight."
Lyanna stood up and faced her brothers. "I took care of them. They'll not bother another soul tonight, at any rate."
Brandon looked up. "This may be nothing. Not every brawl has to mean war, Ned."
Ned turned to look at him. "Perhaps not, but word about this needs to stay in this tent if we are to keep more fights from breaking out."
"Word about what?" They all jumped, save Brandon who looked more grave than ever. Robert came to stand next to Ned and crossed his arms. "What happened to Reed?" As he saw the cut on Lyanna's face that none had yet acknowledged, he stepped to her side and brushed her hair away from it. "What happened to Lyanna?" he said, more indignantly, an edge of anger creeping in.
She sighed. "It's nothing."
"It's something. Who did this?"
"We don't know," said Benjen. "Lyanna stepped in to stop Howland here from disgrace in a brawl." He looked at Ned for confirmation. Ned just nodded.
"Yes, there was a brawl. You know Lyanna, she can't stop herself defending her friends." This from Howland.
Robert put his arm around Lyanna's waist. "You shouldn't have been out there. There are a lot of drunk men out there tonight looking for girls and fights. Not necessarily in that order."
She pushed away from him. "You among them, by the smell."
"Oh, just a little fun, you should have come along."
They'd deflected Robert's questions, but Brandon stood up and left, not speaking. Lyanna watched him. They didn't tell her much, but she knew her family had enemies here. If this fight was part of that, she wanted to know. But Ned shook his head at her, just slightly, and she sighed. Not tonight, apparently.
"Let's leave Howland to rest. We can talk later." Ned took Robert's arm. "How about a drink, eh?"
Robert nodded. "Finally, you get the idea. My lady, will you join us?"
Lyanna shook her head. "I need sleep. I'll see you tomorrow at the feast, yes?"
"Or before. Mayhaps a ride in the woods. Tomorrow then."
Robert and Ned left. Benjen tugged on Lyanna's sleeve to urge her to sit, and began tending to the cut on her face.
"That was close."
"Robert doesn't need to know everything." Howland's voice was still hoarse, and he gestured for water. Benjen handed him a horn. "This situation may have had no meaning beyond me being an easy target."
They were all quiet for a moment. Lyanna began to hum. She hummed often, always the same song, and Benjen always asked her what song it was, for he had not heard it before. And she scowled at him when he asked and denied that she had been humming at all. She did that now, and talked over Benjen's protest.
"Your nose isn't swelling so much, now, Howland. You should join us at the feast tomorrow. If tonight was a message, we'll send one right back. You should enjoy some of this blasted tourney. Ow!" Lyanna scowled at Benjen as he finished cleaning the cut, which was not deep.
"You'll both look normal tomorrow. Now stop talking so I can finish and you can get that sleep you supposedly need."
-
FANDOM: A Song of Ice and Fire
AUTHOR: Maidenjedi
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Some things that took place before the infamous tournament at Harrenhal.
NOTES: My GOT Exchange fic is submitted, for better or worse. I went through about five or six versions of it, most of which I discarded. But, I did write out a couple of scenes featuring Brandon, Benjen, Ned, Lyanna, and Howland Reed. Thought I'd share them, though there's little chance this will ever go further.
The Starks arrived mid-morning, the day before the official start of the tourney, and made camp outside the walls with the other families. Brandon and Ned began to spar as soon as they could be spared, and Lyanna sat with Benjen to watch.
"I'd rather be in armor, sparring with you," she remarked to her youngest brother. At home she would have, in her own armor and with her own sword.
"You'd feel differently if you were to face Selmy on horseback in a couple of days," said Benjen, as Brandon knocked Ned off his horse for the third time. "Me, I'm glad I don't have to participate in more than the early rounds of sword play. Never was so good at the lance." Ned struggled to his feet and Brandon laughed, apologizing for the blows.
Lyanna was silent, and Benjen squeezed her knee. "You don't fear the lance, I take it."
She smirked. "Neither do you. You fear Selmy."
"Who wouldn't? Man's a terror on horseback, they say."
She smiled and nodded, looking away. Benjen followed her gaze. She was watching the Baratheon tent go up, not far from them. Benjen said, "I see. Marriage is your only weakness, then."
"I do not fear it. Or him. I simply want...."
"Yes. We both do. But we have duties, you and I. You are bound for Storm's End, and I...."
"The Gates of the Moon. Aye. I know. And soon."
"Mother will not let you go before you are ready."
"Brother, I am sixteen. If not now, when?"
With that she stood up, and stuck out her hand. "May I borrow a sword? I wish to practice."
Benjen followed her, and let her beat him. Or believed he did.
-
"Who were they?"
"How many?"
"Why were you even there, Lyanna? You foolish...."
She held up her hands, to stop her brothers' ranting. Howland lay on the pallet behind her, three fingers broken and who knew about his ribs, and likely his nose as well. She gestured to him. "I need bandages, water. I'll tell you all, just get them. He needs our help."
Lyanna had been hiding - or, wandering to clear her head, as she thought of it. Robert Baratheon had come looking for her and she was not ready, she did not wish to see him alone or otherwise quite yet, so she picked up the sword she had been using against Benjen and went for a walk. She came upon three men - boys, really, the oldest was probably younger than her - beating Howland Reed. Howland was just older than she, but quite small, and relatively defenseless. She'd fought the three back quite successfully. She told her brothers all of this as she tended to Howland.
"Do you know who they were?" Brandon's voice was low, and he sat with his head in his hands.
"It was dark, brother. I could not see the colors on their tunics, if they wore any."
"They were drunk," came Howland's voice, hoarse and weak. "One was a Frey, another wore the pitchfork. I did not see the third, did you, Lyanna?" She shook her head.
Ned's jaw worked and he swung a fist into his other hand. "Did they know you, Howland? Why you?"
Howland laughed. "Why not me? I doubt they could tell the difference between me and a serving boy, truth be told. They were drunk and wanted a fight."
Lyanna stood up and faced her brothers. "I took care of them. They'll not bother another soul tonight, at any rate."
Brandon looked up. "This may be nothing. Not every brawl has to mean war, Ned."
Ned turned to look at him. "Perhaps not, but word about this needs to stay in this tent if we are to keep more fights from breaking out."
"Word about what?" They all jumped, save Brandon who looked more grave than ever. Robert came to stand next to Ned and crossed his arms. "What happened to Reed?" As he saw the cut on Lyanna's face that none had yet acknowledged, he stepped to her side and brushed her hair away from it. "What happened to Lyanna?" he said, more indignantly, an edge of anger creeping in.
She sighed. "It's nothing."
"It's something. Who did this?"
"We don't know," said Benjen. "Lyanna stepped in to stop Howland here from disgrace in a brawl." He looked at Ned for confirmation. Ned just nodded.
"Yes, there was a brawl. You know Lyanna, she can't stop herself defending her friends." This from Howland.
Robert put his arm around Lyanna's waist. "You shouldn't have been out there. There are a lot of drunk men out there tonight looking for girls and fights. Not necessarily in that order."
She pushed away from him. "You among them, by the smell."
"Oh, just a little fun, you should have come along."
They'd deflected Robert's questions, but Brandon stood up and left, not speaking. Lyanna watched him. They didn't tell her much, but she knew her family had enemies here. If this fight was part of that, she wanted to know. But Ned shook his head at her, just slightly, and she sighed. Not tonight, apparently.
"Let's leave Howland to rest. We can talk later." Ned took Robert's arm. "How about a drink, eh?"
Robert nodded. "Finally, you get the idea. My lady, will you join us?"
Lyanna shook her head. "I need sleep. I'll see you tomorrow at the feast, yes?"
"Or before. Mayhaps a ride in the woods. Tomorrow then."
Robert and Ned left. Benjen tugged on Lyanna's sleeve to urge her to sit, and began tending to the cut on her face.
"That was close."
"Robert doesn't need to know everything." Howland's voice was still hoarse, and he gestured for water. Benjen handed him a horn. "This situation may have had no meaning beyond me being an easy target."
They were all quiet for a moment. Lyanna began to hum. She hummed often, always the same song, and Benjen always asked her what song it was, for he had not heard it before. And she scowled at him when he asked and denied that she had been humming at all. She did that now, and talked over Benjen's protest.
"Your nose isn't swelling so much, now, Howland. You should join us at the feast tomorrow. If tonight was a message, we'll send one right back. You should enjoy some of this blasted tourney. Ow!" Lyanna scowled at Benjen as he finished cleaning the cut, which was not deep.
"You'll both look normal tomorrow. Now stop talking so I can finish and you can get that sleep you supposedly need."
-
