#tully oc

𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚

The day dawned clear and warm, perfect for a ride through the hills. I awoke with a spring in my step, letting the happy anticipation of showing Lyanna more of the Riverlands carry me through dressing and doing my hair and breaking my fast. Catelyn and I soon were in the courtyard outside the stables, watching the Starks minus Benjen approach. Lord Stark stopped in front of us and turned, looking between his three children with a stern expression.

“Eddard, keep them in line.”

Ned nodded, solemn as usual, then Lord Stark dipped his head to me and Catelyn and walked away again. Catelyn smiled at Brandon, leading him into the stables to meet her horse. I followed with Lyanna, Ned a few paces behind like a wary dog.

“Here’s Perch,” I said, gesturing to a small liver chestnut. “He’s a perfect lady’s horse, sensitive and sound-minded, while also having plenty of spirit.”

“You know him well,” Lyanna commented, gently stroking Perch’s shoulder.

“I started him,” I replied proudly. “I started all of the horses my sisters and cousins now ride, along with the ponies used by Edmure and the other young ones. My father has been fond of horses since his youth, and although he wed a Blackwood, he has had many dealings with the Brackens in the pursuit of filling Riverrun’s stables with fine mounts.”

“Your father allows you to back colts?” Ned asked incredulously.

“Aye. Why should he not?” I crossed my arms. “I am clever and very gentle with them, and I am the proper size.”

“I beg your pardon, my lady. I only meant, most lords would not wish to put their daughters in positions of possible injury.” Ned glanced at Lyanna. “No matter how sturdy those daughters may be.”

“I may not be a Northerner, but I am hearty enough,” I answered. “Besides, my father knows better than to go against me on such things. Tully women are not easily swayed.” A stableboy had stepped up to help Lyanna ready Perch, and, deeming her suitably cared for, I turned fully to Ned. “Would you like to meet mine, my lord?”

Ned followed me back outside into the soft morning sunshine and around the stables to the paddocks. I walked up to the first gate and whistled. A moment later, Meleys came trotting out from behind a group of trees, the light bouncing off her polished coat.

“There she is!” I opened the gate and caught her, leading her back to Ned. “My lord, may I present Meleys of Blackwood, my beloved charger. Meleys, meet Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.”

“She’s the same color as your hair,” he noted, holding out a hand for her to sniff. 

“’Tis one of the reasons I chose her,” I replied. Meleys bumped her nose against Ned’s chest, looking for attention. He complied, scratching her neck gently, and she happily leaned into his touch. 

“Hmm.” I tilted my head, watching him. 

“What is it, my lady?”

“She is not generally fond of men, my lord.” I grinned at him. “She has all the stableboys half scared she’s going to bite their manhood right off.”

“And yet you asked me out to meet her?” Ned arched his brow, continuing to pet Meleys.

“’Tis a good test, my lord.” I began to lead her back to the stables, Ned falling in next to me.

“Of what, my lady?”

“Your worthiness.” I smiled at him, receiving an arched brow in return. “You may not have the reputation your brother does, but that does not mean you are above reproach.”

“No, my lady, I suppose it does not.” He thought for a moment. “Do you have reason to reproach me?”

“My only criticism of you, Eddard Stark, is that you do not seem to realize how much enjoyment lies all around you,” I replied. 

“I do not?”

“No. But I do not think that is a permanent fault. You simply need someone to show it to you.”

Lyanna laughed as she pulled up beside me, Catelyn just behind her. Ned and Brandon, upon their heavy Northern steeds, had had no chance of keeping up. Horses puffing, we waited for them, gazing out over the meadows and rolling hills. It had been a relatively short winter, but spring always felt so reviving. To see the green again, to hear the birds chirping, was to be reminded that one was alive. How one fared in the dreary North was beyond me.

“So, Alyssandra, how do you like Ned?” Lyanna asked after a moment.

“What?” I blinked, startled by her question. Beside her, Catelyn smiled mischievously at me.

“My brother, you know, the grumpy one?” Lyanna cocked her head. “Made friends with your man-hating horse earlier? What do you think of him?”

“Well, thus far I find him pleasant,” I answered, trying to ignore how my heart had picked up speed.

“Only pleasant?” Lyanna frowned dramatically. “That is a shame. I had hoped you might like him more than that.”

“Tell me more about him, and perhaps I shall.”

But before she could, Ned and Brandon caught up with us. Brandon pulled up alongside Catelyn, immediately complimenting her, to which she rolled her eyes. Ned halted between me and Lyanna, looking from me to her with mild disapproval. Lyanna huffed, giving me an exasperated expression.

“That was unladylike,” he chided. “You ought not to go so swiftly. ’Tis not safe.”

“I have found, my lord, that when men call a lady’s actions ‘unladylike’ ’tis often because she has beaten them in some way,” I responded. “Your brother does not seem to care that we ran off; it appears his ego is stiffer than yours.”

“’Tis bigger and more bloodied, certainly,” Brandon remarked with a wink at Catelyn. Lyanna laughed again, my own giggle hidden behind my hand. Ned sighed, an air of long-suffering about him.

“A robust ego may be of benefit to a man amongst the other men, but it does not mean much to a woman if he wields it poorly,” Catelyn told him, pursing her lips and arching her brow.

“I can assure you, my lady, I am very adept at wielding it,” Brandon replied, a cocky grin on his face.

“And women are very adept at pretending, my lord.”

Catelyn gazed at him for a moment more, then turned her horse and began back down the hill. Brandon, looking stunned, quickly followed, catching up to her and attempting to resume their conversation. Lyanna glanced at me, then tipped her head towards Ned. I subtly furrowed my brow; she arched hers. I rolled my eyes, giving her a small smile. She grinned, and turned to her brother.

“Dear brother, I wish to ride alone for a bit. Would you mind if I left you in the care of our new friend?”

“You do not mean to ride off, do you?” Ned asked, suspicion clear.

“Of course not!” Lyanna waved a hand, already turning to follow Brandon and Catelyn. “I shall stay between my brothers. I simply desire some time with my thoughts.”

Ned and I rode in silence for a long stretch, Lyanna thirty feet or so in front of us. He was not much for conversation, and I had no desire to force it. It was pleasant enough to ride beside him. He asked a few questions about the birds we saw, although none enough to stimulate more than a brief answer until I noticed a goshawk, quietly pointing it out.

“Robert’s brother had a goshawk,” Ned said, watching the bird take off from the branch it had been perched on. “He found it, injured. Poor thing never fully recovered.”

“That is sad.” I glanced over at him. “Are you fond of birds? You have asked about a number of them.”

“I am not particularly fond of birds, my lady, but rather am fond of observing creatures in general. Although I do greatly enjoy hawking.”

“Hm.” I tilted my head and he raised his brow, silently asking. “I would not have thought Northerners would enjoy what seems to be a more refined method of hunting.” Ned cocked his head, and I quickly added, “I mean no offence, Eddard.”

“I have told you, you may call me Ned, as everyone does.”

“And I have told you, I am not everyone.” I looked him over. “Ned is not special. Eddard is.”

“You think me special?” His surprise was obvious, his eyes widening then blinking rapidly, his lips slightly parted. I smiled and pushed Meleys closer to his dark bay garron, forcing him to tilt his head slightly down to meet my gaze.

“I think I am special,” I answered. “For you do not seem the type to be at ease quickly with strangers, but you have been quite calm with me. Ergo, I am special to you, and thus am allowed to call you Eddard.”

“You cannot just state that you are special to me,” Ned groused, his frown returning. His cheeks flushed, however, and his eyes darted down, taking in the exposed skin where the ties of my shirt had come loose.

“Careful there. I can see your gaze,” I teased, giving him a flirtatious smile.

“I was admiring your hair,” Ned defended himself, gesturing to the braids that hung long over the front of my body.

“Mmm, I am sure you were.” He huffed, pointedly looking away from me. “Oh, come now, my lord, ’tis no sin to look! You have made no comment nor have you crowded my person. Your eyes drifted briefly, in an appreciative manner.”

“Still, I ought to have more restraint. You are a lady,” he grumbled.

“Well, you could always give me something to look at. Then we would be even.”

Ned gaped at me, seemingly scandalized by my proposition. I shrugged and turned forward again, nudging Meleys away from the dark bay. I was about to urge her into a trot, to catch up to Lyanna, when I felt a hand at my elbow. Ned was studying me intensely, as a farmer might inspect a newborn calf. I drew Meleys to a halt, forcing him to stop beside me. For a long moment, we stared at each other, me waiting for him to break, him seemingly attempting to figure out a graceful way to do so.

“You would suggest I expose myself to you?” he finally asked. “In the middle of the woods?”

“Oh by the Old Ones.” I rolled my eyes. “I did not request you whip out your cock, Eddard. I merely suggested you might allow me a peek at what you are hiding under all your well-tooled leather.” I gestured at his chest. “I am confident there is quite the man under all that, given your breeding.”

“My breeding?”

“You are a Northerner, through and through. The North is harsh, it breeds hearty men.” I pulled my arm out of his grip and bumped Meleys forward again. Ned quickly urged his own mount forward as well, looking somewhat confused, but saying nothing. I allowed him a few moments, then sighed and turned towards him once more.

“Forgive me, my lord. I have been told my mouth is not always that of a proper lady. Catelyn is the refined one, you shall find.” I looked down at Meleys’ ears, draping my wrists over the pommel of my saddle, reins held softly in one hand. “Our septa frequently tells me I could only be loved by a heathen Northerner.”

“If that is true, then why do you ask my forgiveness?” Ned’s tone was sincere, and when I flicked my eyes towards him again, I found no trace of mockery in his face either. He watched me calmly, more open than he had been only moments before.

“You are not a heathen, my lord,” I answered.

“You do not know that,” Ned replied. “You have known me five days; that seems very little time to make such an assessment.”

“You are honorable, Eddard. Dutiful and respectful. Pious, in the old way.”

“Hm, Blackwoods also follow the Old Gods, don’t they,” he said, almost to himself. “You understand my worship.”

“Aye. Another reason I suppose I am better suited to a Northern husband than a Riverlander.”

“Any lord would be lucky to have you, regardless of where he calls home.” Again, it seemed the words had left him without his permission, and he flushed. I smiled, reaching over to place my hand on his forearm. Ned stared at it as though it was the first hand he had ever seen.

“Thank you, Eddard.”

He nodded stiffly with a small grunt. I retracted my hand, still smiling to myself. The remainder of our ride back to the castle was silent, but something had shifted. I was still reviewing the conversation as I put Meleys away (the stableboys refused to handle her any more than they had to, which was fine with me), when Petyr came into the stables.

“Alyssandra, good afternoon,” he said respectfully.

“Petyr.” I dipped my head. “How are you today?”

“I am well. Just back from a ride?” I nodded. “How was it?”

“Lovely.” I smiled. “Catelyn and I took the Starks, besides the youngest, out through the hills.”

Petyr frowned, but before he could reply, Ned approached, asking if I needed any help. Petyr crossed his arms, glaring, as I handed Ned a rag and he began to gently rub Meleys down. She leaned into his touch, her lip quivering in happiness.

“Oh, pardon,” I said after a moment, having been distracted by my mare and her new cherished friend. “Eddard, have you met Petyr, my uncle’s ward?” Ned shook his head, tossing the rag over his shoulder and holding out a hand. Petyr reluctantly shook it.

“Eddard Stark.”

“Petyr Baelish.”

Ned nodded, then resumed Meleys’ rubdown. Petyr turned back to me, somewhat expectantly. I glanced back up after a moment from wiping off my tack and raised my brows. He sighed heavily, leaning against the wall.

“Is Catelyn still here?” he asked, trying not to look eager. I mentally rolled my eyes, but kept my face neutral.

“She’s putting Salmon away.”

“Thank you.”

He pushed off the wall and walked away, everything about him far too confident for his position. I sighed, shaking my head. I caught Ned looking at me out of the corner of my eye, and turned towards him.

“He thinks he has a chance at her hand,” I told him. Ned paused, blinking at me, until Meleys reached around and nosed at him, demanding he continue. He gave her an amused look and complied.

“He has some ridiculous infatuation with her,” I said, shaking my head again.

“What is he, two and ten?” Ned scoffed.

“Four and ten, same as Lucas and Benjen,” I corrected. “But still, too young for her. And far, far below her station. His father is but some petty lord in the Fingers. Even if she liked him, my uncle would never allow it.”

“Brandon shall not allow it,” Ned muttered. “He’ll geld the lad before he lets him have her.”

“We would likely be better for it,”  I replied. “I am sure his manhood shall wreak havoc, if it does not already.”

Ned grunted in response, easily adjusting as Meleys desired. My heart swelled, watching him tenderly care for her. Trouble, to allow yourself to feel so quickly. Oh, but what a good father he would make. I wonder if he wants children. I want children. I would want many children with a man like that.

“My lady?” I blinked rapidly, finding Ned standing right in front of me. “Are you alright?”

“Forgive me, yes, I am fine.” I stood and took Meleys. “Thank you for taking care of her. She really has taken a shine to you.” Ned shrugged. “’Tis no small compliment, ask anyone here.”

Ned simply dipped his head as I left, returning Meleys to her paddock. When I returned to the stable, he was waiting with Lyanna, both leaning against a wall as Brandon told Catelyn some story that they had evidently heard before, in copious detail. I grabbed Lyanna’s hand and pulled her away towards the gardens, Brandon and Catelyn following, and Ned, with another put-upon sigh, bringing up the rear.

The fortnight passed quickly, with rides and discussions and meandering walks through the flowers. In honor of our continued alliance, Riverrun was filled with our bannermen and many of the Starks’, on their way to Harrenhal. Our peaceful castle was suddenly overrun with guests, something Catelyn (in her eagerness to prove herself ready to be a Lady Paramount), along with Lysa and Bellena (always looking for more boys to flirt with) found all-around thrilling, but which I had complex emotions about. I enjoyed attention and gossip, but there were a number of men now in my home who I did not enjoy in the slightest, and I knew I would have to be on guard to avoid being cornered by any of them at the feast.

Supper passed without incident, mostly due to the fact that I was seated between Lyanna and Irene, across from Ned, Catelyn, and Brandon. The closest annoyance was Lucas, and his irritation was only of the standard younger brother sort. But then the dancing began. I managed to beg off a number by keeping my young Blackwood cousins close, but they were too soon shuffled off to bed, and I knew I would be forced to endure yet another evening of unwanted touches and conversation duller than a sparring sword. Brandon, taking a break from dancing as Catelyn crossed the room to speak with one of her Whent cousins, sat next to me. He looked over at Ned, then turned back to me with a grin.

“Lady Alyssandra, would you be so kind as to dance with my brother? He is too shy to ask you himself.”

“I would be happy to, my lord.” I stood and turned, holding out my hand. “Lord Eddard?” Ned huffed, but rose and took the offered hand, letting me lead him to the dance floor. We began the dance, and although he knew the steps, it was painfully obvious that he was doing them out of obligation, not joy.

“You must relax, my lord!” I teased. “You are too stiff to enjoy yourself!”

“You are very comfortable with many eyes following you, my lady. Not all of us are,” Ned replied, although he relaxed marginally.

“Is it all the eyes?” I spun away, then back again, placing myself closer to him, my Tully blue skirts swirling around his legs. “Or is there a specific pair you do not wish to see you take a misstep?”

“I am generally not fond of having so many eyes upon me, my lady,” Ned answered, his gaze now avoiding mine.

“So there is no lady here whom you are hoping to impress?” I needled.

“Ought there to be?” Ned returned.

“Not necessarily.” I twirled out and back once more. “But surely, my lord, you have noticed the attention you garner?”

“Ha,” Ned scoffed. “Brandon garners attention. I am simply with him.” I chuckled and his eyes dropped to me, brow furrowed. “What amuses you? I have made no jest, my lady.”

“Your brother has his charms, aye, but not every maiden wishes for such a rogue.” I arched my brow, shifting closer to him, my overdress brushing against his doublet. “Some wish for a brooding, quiet wolf, my lord. A man only she truly knows.”

“Do you wish for such a man, Lady Alyssandra?” Ned asked quietly.

“Perhaps, if such a man were inclined to woo me.” I gave him a teasing smile. “Although even if he were not, I would be happy to be in his company, for I do quite enjoy being friends with those more prickly amongst us.” Ned’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, and I let the remainder of the dance go by without further conversation. The song ended and I parted from Ned to clap along with everyone else, although I stayed near him.

“My lady, I thank you for the dance.” Ned dipped his head, and went to move away, but, spotting an unwelcome suitor making his way towards us over his shoulder, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into me again as a new song began.

“Forgive me, my lord, but Ser Hugh was approaching and I sincerely wish to avoid dancing with him.” I grimaced. “His hands have a tendency to wander.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Ned carefully placed his hand high on my back as we began another dance. “I am glad to keep a lady safe from unwanted advances, particularly one as lovely as yourself.”

“You are likely agreeing to more than you think,” I warned. “Ser Hugh is persistent. I may well require your protection for the remainder of the evening.”

“Then so be it.” Ned smiled, the first I’d seen from him, and my heart sputtered. My mind went blank as I stared up at him, those icy eyes suddenly welcoming, that stern brow suddenly soft. His canines were longer than most, and sharp—a reminder of the rumors surrounding his family.

What would they feel like at my throat? Heat flickered in my stomach and an ache bloomed between my legs. I shall have him. This one shall be mine.

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝

“My lady?” Alyssandra’s eyes had widened, something I might have called reverence contained in her expression, had it not been aimed at me. Gratitude. She is simply grateful to not be subjected to distasteful touches. 

“Forgive me, my lord.” She blinked and smiled demurely. “My mind wandered momentarily. I caught a glimpse of my cousin, and thought of the wedding. It shall be quite the affair.”

“Are you envious?” She shook her head, spinning around me effortlessly, her hair flying like some fiery storm.

“I was not meant to wed a Warden,” she said as she faced me again. “I am the daughter of a third son of a Paramount House, and my mother is the cousin to a High Lord, so while a Warden’s brother or second son is within reach, a Warden himself is not an expectation I ever had. My wedding shall be lovely, to be sure, but nothing so grand as Catelyn’s. Certainly not now that the other party shall be your brother.”

We danced another three dances together and I lost myself in her shining hair and beautiful laugh. We were on our fifth dance when it happened. I spun her out. She twirled back to me. But instead of returning to my shoulder, her hand came to the back of my neck. Her bright, soft eyes met mine with a new intensity and I forgot how to breathe. If I had not already been flushed from the dancing, I certainly would have immediately given myself away. My fingers dug into her waist in an effort to ground myself, and she inhaled shakily. 

“Lady Alyssandra,” I began, but she shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder towards her father and uncle, and finding them in conversation with Halys Hornwood, subtly guided me to the edge of the dance floor, then tugged me into the shadows of the balcony. She didn’t say a word as she quickly pulled me into a corridor, then down it and out to an upper terrace. Outside, she released my hand, taking a deep breath and moving towards the wall, looking out over Tumblestone River.

“My lady, for what purpose have you brought me here?” I stayed where she had left me, desiring to avoid accidentally crossing a boundary with her. If she wished for me to approach, she would say so.

“For the purpose of having an uninterrupted conversation, my lord.” Alyssandra turned to face me. She tilted her head, seemingly surprised to see me standing so far away, then held out a hand. My eyes flicked between it and her face, trying to discern her intentions.

“Will you not stand with me, my lord?” Alyssandra asked softly. “The view is quite pretty from here, even in the darkness.”

It could not hold a candle to you.

I approached and took the offered hand, tucking it into my elbow. The river below glimmered in the moonlight as the spring breeze rustled in the trees. It was probably very pretty, but I had eyes for naught but her. Alyssandra sighed, gazing out at the dark hills pensively.

“Thank you, again, for keeping me from Ser Hugh,” she said quietly after a minute. “He does not seem to comprehend rejection.”

“I could punch it into him for you, my lady,” I replied sincerely.

“You do not have to go to such a measure.” Alyssandra turned towards me with a small shake of her head, her free hand coming to rest lightly on my upper arm. “I would not have you risk harming yourself simply to keep me from a few awkward dances.”

“I do not think he poses much threat. I have been fighting my hulking brute brother for nearly twenty years, I am quite capable.” She smiled and warmth blossomed in my chest. “I would gladly risk injury to maintain your happiness, my sweet lady.”

Alyssandra inhaled sharply, then surged up, her hands moving to the back of my neck as she pressed her lips to mine. I grabbed her waist, holding her firmly, heat rushing from my chest to between my legs.

“Eddard,” Alyssandra breathed, moving to kiss my jaw, her fingers in my hair.

“My lady,” I whispered, hands trailing up and down her sides. “I do not wish to dishonor you.” I do, I do, oh do I desire to dishonor you. I desire to sully your honor in every way possible. I will not. But I desire to. 

“Then stop me,” she murmured as she pressed her body fully against mine, certainly feeling just how much I wished to drag her honor through the mud. She licked my throat and I nearly released then and there, a quiet, broken sound leaving me.

“Move me away from you,” she dared, tipping her head back to look coyly up at me. I stared down at her, caught between honor and a lust magnitudes more powerful than any I had felt before. Alyssandra gazed back at me, her own eyes lit with desire. I reached up to fiddle with a bit of her hair, the silky strands slipping through my fingers sending a tingle through me.

“Aly!” Catelyn’s voice broke the quiet around us. “I know you’re out here!” She rounded the corner before we could properly distance ourselves, Brandon at her side, Lysa and Bellena following.

“Alyssandra Tully!” Catelyn crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Alyssandra quickly pushed me away. “I wished to speak with Lord Eddard without any of those oaf knights intruding; is that a sin?”

“It did not seem like your mouth was particularly engaged in speaking,” Catelyn replied, raising her brows and cocking her head. Brandon smirked beside her. I ducked my head, suddenly very grateful for the formal occasion and thus the surcoat I wore; my breeches had not been this uncontrollably tight in years.

“Oh shut up,” Alyssandra huffed. “Do you have a reason for interrupting us or are you simply finding pleasure in my annoyance?”

“Our fathers seek us,” Catelyn answered with a sigh. “Reports to be made, prospects to be discussed.”

“Leaving me be would have given them a better answer,” Alyssandra grumbled. “You could have simply told them I was privately engaged.”

“Oh, aye,” Catelyn laughed, “that surely would have gone over well. Come,” she held out a hand to Alyssandra, “best not to keep them waiting.”

“It seems I must take my leave of you, Lord Eddard,” Alyssandra said, giving me a smile. I brought her hand up and gently kissed it.

“Until the morrow, my dear lady.”

Alyssandra blushed, and my mouth (and loins) twitched happily. She held my gaze for a second longer, then turned and took her cousin’s hand.

“Goodnight, my lords,” Catelyn said, looking between me and Brandon. I dipped my head to her as she and Alyssandra turned to walk away.

“Goodnight, fair lady,” Brandon replied, then added, “I shall look to see you in my dreams tonight!”

“I am certain I shall not dream of you!” Catelyn called back, her sister and cousins giggling. Brandon sighed longingly, a drunk-like smile on his face. He watched her disappear inside, then turned to me.

“Lady Alyssandra is rather a pretty thing, is she not?” he teased, grinning.

“She is lovely,” I agreed, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “A delight to converse with.”

“Of course you would comment on her conversation.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Come now, Ned, you have spent all that time with Robert! Can we not talk openly?”

“Her conversation was lovely, why must I comment on something else?” Her soft hand clasped in mine. Her sweet smile as she looked up at me, her summer sky eyes bright with mirth. Her lithe fingers on my spine. Her flaming, flowing hair flying about as she effortlessly twirled.

“I swear, do you even like women?” Brandon asked, shaking his head and knocking me from my wandering thoughts. “Her tits were pressed right up against you! She had her hands on your neck!” I grunted, and his mouth twitched mischievously. “You know, I heard from Denys Mallister and Ronald Vance that she’s not the naive, pristine lady her cousin is. Apparently, that mouth of hers is adept with much more than conversation.” I said nothing, clenching my fists, and Brandon leaned closer. “She seems rather smitten with you. I’m sure if you asked, the fair lady would give you a demonstration of her talents.”

“Would you shut up?” I snarled, his words conjuring up images that did nothing to lessen the discomfort in my breeches. “Why must you speak about every woman with such disregard?”

“Easy, brother.” Brandon arched a brow and raised his hands. “Do not hurt yourself, experiencing emotion for the first time. You ought to perhaps try being happy first, before you fly into a passionate rage.”

“I am not in a passionate rage,” I grumbled, glaring down at the river. 

“Fine, a possessive one, then.” Brandon draped himself over the wall next to me, offering me a flask from his pocket. I eyed it for a moment, then took it. The Riverlands brandy was smoother than what we made in the North, fitting for such a soft, green place.

“You quite fancy her,” Brandon observed. I shrugged. “Oh come on, Ned. You are never so animated. I must admit, when I challenged you to prove yourself a wolf, I did not expect to be answered so soon, certainly not over a girl you barely know.”

“You also barely know her, and yet you feel entitled to speak freely about her.” I frowned at him. Brandon sighed, grabbing the flask back and taking a long drink.

“I meant no harm,” he said plainly. “She is a lovely lady. And it would be nice for our wives to get along, seeing as they shall have to spend a great deal of time together.” He sighed again. “Catelyn is so harsh with me, it is delightful. Her words slash like a perfectly honed sword. Makes my blood hot.”

“Something is wrong with you, you know that?” I gave him a disbelieving look.

“Oh, you prefer praise, of course.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Want Alyssandra to tell you how good looking and strong you are?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh Ned,” Brandon sighed in an obnoxious falsetto, although his shift of accent was rather good, “you’re so handsome! Your hands are so talented!” He leaned in closer and batted his lashes. “Such a good booooy.”

“Would you please stop, I was just beginning to calm down!” I snapped. Brandon’s eyes widened, and he glanced down.

“Have you been hard this whole time?”

“Shut up.” I shoved him away from me.

“Brother!” Brandon laughed. “Oh, truly? From a little kissing and her fingers in your hair? That is all it takes?”

“She licked me.”

“Where? Your bloody stones?” 

“My throat,” I answered after a beat. 

Brandon shook his head, chuckling. “You, you really didn’t ever join Robert in his whoring, did you? Oh, Eddard.” He clapped my shoulder. “You are a rare man. I admire you, you know.”