Legolas.

Those bannermen were not always made of thread and cloth. There was a time when they were made of flesh and bone. Men with names, homes, families, and wills of their own. Reasons to follow that doomed horse and its rider into the field of battle, charging to the aid of those who had asked for it. Now they were just another piece of a long history. Many of them forgotten in name but remembered in still remembered in ways such as this.

“Do you have any brothers, my lord?–” The woman’s words snapped Legolas’ mind back to present. With it his focus shifted on to her, rather than the dead, as the elf turned to look at her once again. “No, no brothers. In sisters I have only one. She is younger than me, but has already found her home in a mountain kingdom far from here.” He is quite proud of this sister as well, and lets that pride show whenever he talks about her. “What of you, my lady? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

          No brothers. How unlucky for him, then. Her own brothers had been the light of her life. Brave Brandon, always fighting for her, defending her. Noble Ned, always the voice of reason, sacrificing everything so she could have a life. Baby Benjen, sweet and fair, always happy, always laughing. Maybe they had had some other sister, some other reckless girl who had run off and ruined everything. Maybe they had had no sister at all. 

          For a moment, Lyanna thought how difficult it must be to have a sister, to have someone one must constantly worry for and chase after. But not all sisters were like her. His sister sounded a fair measure more dignified than she had been (not a difficult goal to attain). Whoever she was, out in a mountain kingdom, some far off land, they had something in common. It was a small comfort to feel momentarily less alone in the world, to know that there were other people like her, at least in some respects. A brief attempt at a smile as she returned his gaze. His eyes were impossibly bright. “She must miss you terribly, then.”