summer snows | game of thrones

ೃ࿔₊• iii. the feast

— LYANNA

LYANNA STARK HAD NEVER been one to enjoy feasts and gatherings, but as the daughter of the Warden of the North, attending such events was expected of her. As she sat at the welcome feast for King Robert Baratheon and his family, she couldn't help but observe those around her.

To her left sat her father, Lord Eddard Stark, and to her right was her mother, Lady Catelyn Stark. Across the table, she could see King Robert, a large man with a beard as black as coal, and his queen, Cersei Lannister, whose golden hair shimmered in the flickering candlelight. Beside them were their three children, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.

Lyanna's eyes lingered on Joffrey, the eldest of the Lannister children. He sat with his chin held high, his eyes scanning the room as though he was expecting someone to approach him at any moment. There was something about him that made Lyanna uneasy, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, as though he believed himself to be above everyone else in the room.

Next to Joffrey sat Myrcella, a pretty little thing with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. She seemed shy and timid, but there was a sweetness to her that Lyanna found endearing. She wondered how someone so innocent could be related to the cunning and calculating Cersei Lannister.

Tommen, the youngest of the Lannister children, sat at the end of the table, picking at his food with his fork. He looked to be no more than six or seven years old, and Lyanna couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was surrounded by powerful adults who were all vying for their own interests, and he seemed to be caught in the middle of it all.

As Lyanna took a sip of her wine, her eyes returned to Cersei Lannister. There was a coldness to her that sent shivers down Lyanna's spine. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but there was something about her that made Lyanna feel as though she was staring into the eyes of a predator. Lyanna wondered what kind of woman would marry a man like King Robert, knowing full well what kind of man he was.

Finally, Lyanna's gaze settled on King Robert himself. He was loud and boisterous, laughing at his own jokes and slapping his friends on the back. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but Lyanna couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before his temper flared up and he started shouting and throwing things.

As the feast wore on, Lyanna found herself growing more and more uncomfortable. She longed to escape the stifling atmosphere of the great hall and return to her own chambers, where she could read her books and be alone with her thoughts. But as the daughter of the Warden of the North, she knew that such an escape was not possible. She would have to endure the rest of the evening, no matter how unpleasant it might be.

Lyanna had just finished her meal when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Cersei Lannister standing behind her, a subtle smile on her lips.

"Lyanna, isn't it?" Cersei said, her voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "I don't believe we've had the chance to properly meet yet."

Lyanna forced a smile and nodded. She couldn't help but feel uneasy around Cersei, knowing the rumors that surrounded her and her family.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace," Lyanna said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cersei's smile widened, and Lyanna could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"I heard that you're quite interested in history, Lyanna," Cersei said, her eyes never leaving Lyanna's face. "Particularly the history of your own family."

Lyanna felt a chill run down her spine. She wondered how Cersei knew such a thing, and what her true intentions were.

"Yes, I find it fascinating," Lyanna said cautiously. "Especially the story of my aunt, Lyanna Stark."