The Pup Of The North [currently being rewritten]

01 [Execution]

The guard rode quicker toward the castle of Winterfell. He had been sent to inform Lord Stark about a new deserter from The Night's Watch.

Brandon Stark stood in the courtyard with his two siblings. Robb Stark and Jon Snow. The bastard child of Lord Eddard Stark. Brandon had a look of concentration on his face while he tried to shoot an arrow at a target board. The little lord released the arrow and watched the arrow lodge itself in a nearby barrel. Brandon Stark let out a huff in complaint.

"Go on. Father is watching." Jon Snow urged, he referenced to the family man that was watching from above. The bastard of Winterfell placed his hands on Brandon's shoulders and repositioned his bow slightly.
Brandon glanced up at his father for reassurance and offered his brother a smile over his small shoulders.

The other women of the Stark family sat up in the tower room doing needlework. Sansa preened in the praise about her beautiful embroidery skills like always. Arya sulked about being stuck in the stuffy tower room with an even more stuffy embroidery activity. Little Lyanna Stark sat next to the wild Arya Stark and tried her best. She definitely wasn't one for needlework either but she tried nonetheless. She stabbed the needle into the fabric blindly but with a concentrated frown. This was much to Sansa's  annoyance but Arya's amusement.

"Fine work as always. Well done Sansa." The septa praised an already smug enough Sansa. Lyanna pulled a face of distaste over the Septa's shoulder at Arya in response. Arya bit back a snicker at her baby sister's expression and stuck her needle into the fabric once more. She was trying to make something that resembled flowers. The needlework in her hand however didn't resemble anything and she knew that.

"Septa. Would you like to see my work?" Lyanna asked in her soft, childish voice and waved her work vividly in the air. Arya had to duck out of the way out of the floating needle that had fell from her fabric, during the vivid waving of the fabric. The needlework had loose stitches and the lines didn't even meet but Lyanna was proud. She was quickly following in Arya's footsteps and was developing a distaste for needlework classes. The drivel about future marriages, dresses and the various male figures of the houses bore her. Lyanna longed to be out in the courtyard and playing free with her brothers. They'd allowed her to experiment with archery once but only when she had swore she wouldn't tell mother.

"Very good Lyanna." The Septa smiled. The elder woman knew of the poor standard of the embroidered mess but she had a soft spot deep down.
"You're bleeding Lyanna." Sansa gasped from across the room. The red head had looked up from her embroidery and noticed small drops of blood dripping onto her dress.

"Take her to Lady Catelyn." The septa urged Arya and shooed her out of the tower. The septa wasn't stupid and knew Arya had no taste for the detailed art of embroidery.

The people of the castle were always overprotective of the smallest wolf. She was the same age as Rickon Stark but she'd been born second by a few minutes. Catelyn had been distraught on the night of their birth. A healthy baby boy had been born and Lady Catelyn had rejoiced until Lyanna had arrived.

Lyanna Stark had been born much smaller and with a lack of nutrients from the womb. It seemed that the previous baby boy had absorbed majority and the Septa hadn't been sure she'd survive the night.
Lord Eddard Stark was grateful to have had the help of Robert to provide the best medical attention for his new little girl. In the days after that night she'd fought all of the odds and seemed to be just fine. It was a strange phenomenon and everybody just watched her carefully now.

"Mother! The Septa sent me here after I poked myself with a needle." Lyanna Stark hummed and tugged on Catelyn's dress. The pain of her wound had subsided quickly and she was excited to now run free with Arya. The two Stark siblings approached their mother on the upper part of the courtyard.
"Darling?" Lady Catelyn bent down and held the small child on her hip, letting her look over the courtyard while checking over her finger. At six she was still easy to handle, being smaller than usual for her age in both frame and height.

The young Stark girl looked over the courtyard just in time to see Bran release his arrow. The arrow sailed over the target board and his brothers laughed in response.
"Which one of you was a marksman at ten? Keep practicing Bran. Go on." Lord Stark scolded his smug sons and urged the younger Stark on.

"Don't think too much Bran." Jon advised.
"Relax your bow arm." Robb said with his arms crossed. He was leaning on a barrel off to the side.
"Go Brandon!" Lyanna cheered and wiggled in excitement in Catelyn's arms.

Brandon was just about to let his arrow fly but another arrow lodged itself into the target. Brandon Stark glanced behind him to see Arya Stark holding a bow and bowing mockingly.

The young Stark boy quickly grew annoyed and took off after his sister. He made quick work of getting over a barrel and proceeding to chase the little lady around the courtyard. Lady Catelyn let out a sigh when she saw the sight below and realised that Arya must have snuck off after leaving Lyanna with her.

"Faster Bran! Faster!" Jon Snow and Robb Stark teased. Catelyn Stark gently set Lyanna down and shooed her away down to her brothers. She'd noticed an elderly man approaching with a solemn look on his face and gathered there was some bad news coming.

The bastard smiled when he looked up to see the small child approaching.
"Lyanna. What's your excuse for skipping out on needlework this time? I know Arya's somewhere causing trouble around here." Jon chuckled.
"I pricked my finger.." Lyanna grinned and held her arms up for Robb. The eldest Stark picked her up on his hip with a small frown.
"Did it heal up?" Jon immediately asked.

Lyanna Stark nodded happily and wrapped her arms around Robb's neck with her face in his shoulder.
"We can teach you archery one day. Somehow I don't think you'd be able to wield a heavy sword properly." Jon laughed.

"Lord Stark. My lady." The elder man approached and nodded respectfully with Theon Greyjoy by his side.
"A guardsmen just rode in from the hills. They've captured a deserter from the nights watch." The elder man announced.
Lord Stark's face fell at his words and Lady Catelyn glanced at her husband wearily.
"Tell the men to saddle their horses." Ned sighed.
"Do you have to?" Lady Catelyn frowned.
"We swore an oath Cat." The Lord said softly.
"Law is law." The elder man agreed.
"Tell Bran he's coming to." Eddard announced, the elder man nodded and left.

"Ned. Ten is too young to see such things." The Lady pleaded.
"He won't be a boy forever and Winter is coming." Lord Eddard replied strictly before leaving.
Rickon and his two elder brothers cleared up the courtyard of the arrows. Jon snow paused in his actions of placing arrows into the barrel. He could feel Lady Catelyn's eyes on him. The bastard looked up to be met by a silent Lady Catelyn's eyes still on him.