Everything in Lyanna grinds to a halt as she comes face-to-face with the stranger she'd mistaken for her brother. Because it almost feels like she's looking into a mirror. He's not Ned, that's suddenly clear, but there's no mistaking that the man is a Stark. Much as the Targaryens had a distinct look about them, so did the wolves of the North: long face, dark hair, dark eyes.

It takes her a moment to speak, caught off-guard not just by the man's resemblance to her family and his overall familiarity, but also by what he says. "You can't mean Eddard," she finally manages to say, taking a cautious step forward with the briefest of glances at Ghost, "of House Stark? Son of Lord Rickard?" Then she laughs, despite still not quite shaking whatever it is she's feeling. Ned has a son this man's age? "I'd believe it if it were Robert, but Ned..."

She squints at Jon. Must be another Ned. A cousin... though she's sure that's not it. The strange feeling continues to gnaw at her. How does she know this man?