At the tender age of five, Lyanna Stark lost her father to a bitter illness. The child had in truth been more relieved than saddened by the occasion, for he had been most terrifying with blood dribbling down his chin and the unpleasant odour wafting from his rooms turned her stomach. She had been glad to have the windows open and the room cleared out.

Brandon's eyes had been red when their father's body was entombed. Ned had wept openly, clinging to their mother's skirts, his expression mirroring hers. Lyanna had only started shedding tears when the lid was placed upon the body, yet hers had not been of sorrow. She could not rightly understand why father had been taken down there, but she was sure he was to return.

It took her a few days to realise that father was not coming back, that he would not return with spoils from the hunt or gifts for his children. And then she had wailed and wailed, scaring her mother so bad that she nearly dropped Benjen, still a babe in arms. Lyanna had only grown quiet when Old Nan threatened to give her to the snarks and grumkins. Yet the sore remained.

That had been Lyanna's first brush with the knowledge of mortality, if not her own than that of others. The lesson had been taken to heart, at least until the pain lessened and she returned to being a cheerful little scarp, forever on her mother's heels, determined not to allow Lady Lyarra Stark to go too often down where father was. The darkness could swallow her, after all, and then Lyanna would be left with Brandon and Ned, who were forever ignoring her. And she would also have to care for Benjen and he drooled on the front of her dress.

Fortunately that was not the case. Lyarra Stark did not plan to leave her children anytime soon. In fact, it was her dearest wish to take them with her. One might expect that a young widow such as Lady Stark would not bare the loneliness for long. For though her children filled her days with joy, Lyarra Stark longed for a mate she could converse with on matters less frivolous than the beauty of the blue roses or whether one should be allowed riding before the age of ten. She had endured the loneliness as best she could for three years. Lyarra had mourned and observed every proper ritual, but her heart longed for affection that could only be found in a proper alliance.

Thus, the window of Rickard Stark took matters in her own hands and sought a man who might bring her joy and comfort. The perfect match she found in Lord Tywin Lannister. Having been delivered of a son thereafter widowed, Tywin was in a similar predicament as Lyarra herself. A lady of breeding and good manner, she wrote to the Lord Hand of the realm, proposing the match she had in mind, careful to outline the advantages of such a match.

To her great delight, Lord Lannister professed himself interested. She and her children if they wished to join her were invited as Casterly Rock where they were to discuss further the matter of marriage. Lyarra was happy to oblige such an invitation. She left nothing behind and no one, not even her oldest son, who by all accounts should have remained in Winterfell. Brandon, however, was so obstinate and rude that Lyarra found she had to send him back after not even a few hours of journeying. Disaster had been adverted by such a move.

"Now, Lyanna, you must remember to be courteous," Lyarra told her daughter. "Lord Lannister has a girl about your age. Befriend her, and you Ned, strive to make a good impression upon Lord Lannister's oldest son." It was of tantamount importance that the match not fall through.

Lady Stark needn't have worries though. Lord Lannister, having long since calculated the many advantages such a union could produce, was not at all opposed to leaving widowhood behind. Even more had his desire risen when he clapped eyes upon the youthful and noble visage of Lady Stark. She was yet young and in good health and apparently able to produce healthy children.

If the parents were thrilled about the match, the children were not so much in favour of it. Lyanna found Lord Lannister's twins to be abominable creatures, especially Cersei. She would creep into the nursery and pinch her tiny brother, leaving bruises in his arms and legs. The babe would weep until Jaime came and led his sister away.

Taking pity on the poor, barely-deformed creature, Lyanna would sometimes take the child in her lap and tell him stories. Or rather them, as Benjen would trail after her, all under the watchful eye of a nursemaid.

It was then much a pity that no one had asked the children for their consent to the marriage. They would have banded together, for the first and last time, to be sure, and yelled put a denial so loud that the King himself would hear it in his throne room.

But Lord Lannister and Lady Stark were determined to bind themselves to one another in the most sacred way. So Lyanna and Cersei were forced together to share lessons and dresses and dolls and jewels, while Ned and Jaime could often be seen practising together in the yard.

"Is it not marvellous to have a sister?" her mother would ask when she sometimes came upon the two girls. "I was very glad for my own sister."

Yet Cersei was certainly not glad for hers, not was Lyanna any more than that. It could be said that they loathed one another if not for the fact that aside from sharing what they had to, the two girls avoided being together. Lyanna would escape to the nursery, and Cersei would flee only the gods knew where.

Such was the life of Lyanna Stark in the house of Tywin Lannister upon her ninth nameday.