The Stark Shadow

Winterfell's training yard echoed with the sound of clashing steel and heavy breaths. Over the past year, the once-awkward strikes and tentative footwork of Eddard and Benjen had transformed into disciplined movements, each swing and parry a reflection of the rigorous training they had undergone under Talion's tutelage. The young men had grown into capable fighters, their efforts marked by precision and determination. 

Talion stood to the side, arms crossed as he watched the two brothers spar in the center of the yard. Eddard's calm, measured defense contrasted with Benjen's fierce, aggressive strikes. Despite his energy, Benjen's movements lacked the control needed to outmaneuver his brother. Eddard sidestepped a wide swing and deflected Benjen's next strike with ease, using his momentum to knock his younger brother off balance. 

Benjen stumbled, his sword slipping from his grasp as he fell to the ground. His face flushed with frustration as he glared up at Eddard, who offered him a hand. 

"You're improving, Ben," Eddard said, his tone calm but encouraging. "But you need to stay focused. Reckless attacks will cost you in a real fight." 

Benjen accepted his brother's hand, standing and brushing the dirt from his tunic. "I'll get there," he said, determination flashing in his eyes. 

Talion stepped forward, his voice steady and instructive. "Benjen, you fight with passion, and that is not a weakness. But if you don't control it, you'll leave yourself exposed. Strength comes not only from the body but also from the mind. Use your energy wisely." 

Benjen nodded, though his expression remained tight with frustration. "I understand," he said, the resolve in his voice tempered by a hint of defiance. "I'll learn." 

Rickard Stark watched from the edge of the yard, his expression filled with quiet pride. The transformation in his sons over the past year was undeniable. Eddard had matured into a disciplined, thoughtful leader, while Benjen's fiery determination had tempered into a resolute drive to improve. 

"You've both made great progress," Rickard said as he approached. His voice carried warmth, though it retained the weight of his authority. "You've grown stronger—not just in skill, but in character. I'm proud of you." 

"Thank you, Father," Eddard said, bowing his head respectfully. 

"I'll keep getting better," Benjen added, his voice resolute. "I'll prove myself." 

Rickard placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "You already have. But the path of growth never ends. There is always more to learn." 

From the far end of the yard, a young voice called out, breaking the moment. "What about me? When do I get to train?" 

Lyanna Stark strode toward them, her steps purposeful, her hands planted firmly on her hips. At twelve years old, her presence commanded attention, her fiery determination unmistakable. She glared at her father and brothers, her gaze finally settling on Talion. 

"Why should my brothers get all the training?" she demanded, her tone firm. "I want to learn to fight too. I can handle a sword just as well as they can." 

Rickard frowned slightly, exchanging a glance with Talion. "Lyanna, fighting is not a game," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. 

Lyanna didn't waver. "I know it's not a game, Father. But if Eddard and Benjen are learning to protect Winterfell, then so should I. I want to be strong, like them." 

Talion stepped forward, addressing Rickard with calm authority. "Lord Stark, if I may… Lyanna has the spirit of a fighter. It may be wise to train her. The skills she learns could one day prove invaluable." 

Rickard studied his daughter for a long moment, her determined gaze meeting his without flinching. Finally, he sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Very well. You may train, Lyanna. But you will follow Talion's instructions without question. Is that understood?" 

Lyanna's face broke into a wide grin. "Yes, Father. Thank you!" 

Rickard shook his head with a faint chuckle. "You'll have your hands full, Talion." 

Talion's lips curved into a faint smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less, my lord." 

Over the following days, Lyanna joined her brothers in the training yard, her enthusiasm boundless. She threw herself into swordplay and archery, her natural agility shining as she worked tirelessly to match her brothers' skills. Her spirited presence brought a new energy to their sessions, pushing Eddard and Benjen to strive harder, even as they found themselves both protective and competitive toward their younger sister. 

Talion watched with approval as Lyanna parried one of Benjen's strikes with surprising deftness, a triumphant grin lighting her face. "Well done, Lyanna," he called. "Now, try again. This time, focus on your follow-through." 

As the sun dipped below the horizon one evening, Rickard stood beside Talion, watching his children practice. The yard was bathed in the warm hues of twilight, the clang of steel ringing softly in the air. 

"They've come far," Rickard said, his voice thoughtful. "Eddard, Benjen, even Lyanna. I see so much of their mother in them." 

"They are strong," Talion replied, his gaze steady on the siblings. "They have the heart and spirit of true Northerners. It has been an honor to guide them." 

Rickard turned to Talion, a rare smile gracing his face. "Ned's sixteenth name day is approaching. I plan to mark the occasion with a celebration—something that will bring the Northern lords together. It will be a chance to show the strength and unity of House Stark." 

Talion nodded. "It's a wise decision. The North will need that unity in the years to come." 

Rickard's expression grew contemplative. "It will be their legacy, Talion—their burden to bear. Let us hope they are ready for what lies ahead." 

Talion's gaze returned to the training yard, where Eddard, Benjen, and Lyanna laughed and sparred, their faces lit with the joy of shared effort. "They will be ready, my lord. Together, they are stronger than they know." 

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the yard as the young Starks continued to train, their laughter and determination a testament to the bond that would carry them through the trials to come.