THE LITTLE PUP (EDITING AND REWRITING)

2.

"I don't understand why you would want to go with your father and watch a man die or why would disappear and not be present in your lessons as you are required to be!"

There was one thing that Lilia despised more than Septa Mordane's lessons on good customs and that was her mother's scolding for not attending such lessons while trying to teach them herself as if she would learn from a hypocrite.

The worst part of the issue was that it was not just her mother but also Sansa, who was having her hair brushed by their mother.

News of the King's progress to Winterfell reached them that day as well as the news of the Hand's death, her uncle. With that news, preparations were being made to receive the King's court and his family – Queen and children alike.

Sansa had decided to adjust the gown that Lilia had sewn her to wear at the King's welcome. She was surprised to see that not many adjustments had been made, other than the waist. It was light blue, which complemented those Tully blue eyes that her sister had inherited from their mother and that Lilia had spent her life so desperately wanting.

She had spent many years feeling conscious about her looks. It wasn't easy for her growing up in a home filled with strikingly beautiful women such as her mother and sister, and boys so handsome as her brothers – all with their red hair and blue eyes, rosy cheeks and high cheekbones.

She'd felt ugly for most of her life – straight dark brown hair, boring brown eyes and an oval face that was longer than what she deemed appropriate. Not only that but she was slim and flat-chested, which didn't compensate to the dull face that she had.

Jon and Arya were the only ones that shared those features with her. She couldn't say that Jon was an ugly boy but the girls always seemed to fawn over Robb, not him. Arya was another story... she wasn't very beautiful and girls mocked her, calling her Arya Horseface. Lilia had gotten none of that treatment, nor would she allow them to say such things. She was always told that she was a northern beauty but that had served her as well as a myrish lace gown would face the cold of the North.

As the years went by, she eventually set that aside but there were days such as that one that she still envied her sister's and mother's beauty. More than she'd wanted and never without letting them know.

She had decided to embrace her northern beauty and chose a white dress and a crown of winter roses that were generally used by queens of love and beauty at tournaments. Her mother wasn't very keen on the idea since the Queen might find it disrespectful. In Lilia's eyes, the North was her home and Cersei Lannister was merely a guest; if anything, the North should consider Cersei Lannister's presence as a lack of respect and not what her mother said.

"I also don't understand why you insist on mistreating Jon and still you have been doing it ever since you met him" she replied surprising both the Lady of Winterfell and Jonquil. Her mother stopped what she was dying and for a moment, Lilia felt a shiver down her spine but it was too late to back down now. She looked at her sister and went through with what she thought was right. "Both of you" she reinforced.

"Lilia!" her mother reprehended her with great disapproval that Lilia deemed as misplaced and a demonstration of the woman's hypocrisy. She didn't care what her mother thought of her words, knowing they should have been said a long time ago. The right thing to do was to confront her mother about it, make her feel guilty for it and perhaps she'd redeem herself or at least, show some wish to change.

There had always been something in the middle of her relationship with her mother, some sort of Valyrian sword if you'd like to call it, and that sword was Jon Snow. Not Jon Snow exactly, it was unfair to put that weight on her brother's shoulders as many, many things stood between her and her mother but her treatment of him was one of the most prominent ones, if not the most prominent.