Book 1: Prints in the Snow

Chapter VIII • The Kingsroad

Just a note before we begin, I've switched to writing in the third person as I just find it easier and the quality tends to be better. Also concerning the pronunciation of Lyon's name- it is pronounced Lee-oh-n and not like 'lion', just in case there was some confusion there. Now, off to the story!

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Lyon sat upon Balthasar, Winter at the horse's knees. Her new blade laid hidden within the saddlebags but of course, it remained in her reach for quick withdrawal if need be. She was content upon the back of her horse, dressed in trousers and a dress-like tunic that fell to her calves. Unlike Sansa, she had no desire to ride in a carriage but instead preferred to see the world go past.

"Lyon, we are leaving." Her father called to her from Winterfell's gates, and with a quick nudge, Balthasar galloped up to the king's new Hand and rose alongside him.

"I'm excited to see Kingslanding."

"You and Sansa both." He said, then a little quieter he spoke again. "You were born in Kingslanding, you know."

Lyon continued along as the Kingsguard and men of Winterfell continued onward. She spotted a dozen or more men of the Night's Watch proceed among them. "Was I now? I thought we agreed not to speak of this matter."

"Not directly, of course. I see no harm in the little things."

"The greatest fires can start from only coals, father."

"Hmm." She murmured and fell silent, but all the same, Lyon looked to him in appreciation and receiving that look, a smile grew upon his face.

"I'm going to ride along with Jon. Gods know when I'll see him again." Her father nodded her off as she pushed Balthasar forward, approaching the bunch of men associated with the Night's Watch. Among them, her eyes found Jon, shroud in black. "Don't you look ominous."

Her remark caught Jon out of the blue, and he looked at her own attire. "And you look... like summer."

"Mine was a compliment also." She said, a grin pulling her face into a bright beam. "I'm very proud of you, you know. Going to the Night's Watch with Uncle Benjen. I'm happy that you're making your own way."

"I only hope it won't be a mistake." He said, a faint smile fading.

"It won't be a mistake. You tend to make the best of situations, Jon. You make things work for you, and you will in the Night's Watch. I'm sure you'll make friends."

"I wouldn't call them 'friends'." Jon murmured, letting his eyes wander to a smaller figure upon a horse, marching in between the Night's Watch and those off the Kingslanding.

"You've spoken with Tyrion Lannister? Is he to take the Black?"

Jon shook his head. "No, he only wishes to see the Wall. Amongst other things."

A smirk quirked Lyon's lip. "I quite like Tyrion. He's clever. Very smart man."

"You've had the pleasure of meeting him then?"

"On very fair terms, in fact. I quite think he believed me to be a handmaiden."

Jon raised an eyebrow and turned to his sister. "Do you enjoy confusing people, or is that just how you are?"

She shrugged. "A little bit of both, I think."

"Amazing."

"Thank you kindly," Lyon said, then suddenly she grinned and gestured ahead. "Speak of the devil."

Tyrion Lannister had peered over his shoulder to catch Jon and Lyon in a jovial discussion. Seeing the girl, a gleam lit his eye and he steered his steed toward them.