A Dragon In Wolf's Clothing ~A Game of Thrones fan fiction~

Chapter Seventy Four: Have Mercy

"We'll never get him back," Lyanna spoke up before Sansa had the chance. "Men like Ramsay just don't surrender their enemy's loved ones, they take them away... and enjoy doing it,"

"Rickon is Ned Stark's trueborn son," Sansa continued, much to Jon's dismay. "He's a greater threat to Ramsay than you, a bastard, me, a girl, and even Lyanna, Brandon Stark's heir but still a girl. As long as he's alive Ramsay's claim to Winterfell will always be contested, which means..."

"He won't live long," Lyanna finished, bluntly, her gaze fixed to the floor.

"I can't give up on our brother!" Jon protested, looking between the two of them.

"Listen to me, please, he want's you to make a mistake!" Sansa spoke, sounding almost desperate.

"Well what should I do different?" Jon asked, and even his tone had turned to desperation; possibly realising their situation.

"I- I don't know anything about battles, just... Just don't do as he wants," as she spoke, Sansa fixed eyes with Lyanna, almost wishing to be in her place; to be a fighter. Jon scoffed, noticing how obvious and predictable her suggestion was. "If you'd have asked for my advice earlier, I would have told you not to attack Winterfell until we had a larger force!"

"We've pleaded with every house that would have us, we have no other allies, this is what we have!" Jon shouted, slamming his hand onto the table slightly, making even Lyanna flinch.

"It's not enough but it's what we have," Lyanna spoke up, attempting to be the voice of reason between the two.

"Battles have been won against greater odds," Jon pointed out, almost calmly compared to his previous manner.

The tent fell quiet for a moment, the three siblings just caught in the intensity of the moment. Sansa paced towards the tent exit, then hesitated, turning back to face both Jon and Lyanna.

"If Ramsay wins... I'm not going back there alive," she spoke flatly, her words making Lyanna stand, realising the implications.

"I won't let him hurt you ever again, I won't let him touch you again," Lyanna spoke before Jon could, stepping closer to her sister. "I'll protect you,"

Even though it was Lyanna speaking these words, Lyanna who had suffered just as much as herself, Sansa refused to believe them. She shook her head gently, and moved to the tent opening.

"No one can protect me, no one can protect anyone," she said, and with that, left the two Snows alone.

"Sansa's right, Jon," Lyanna sighed, watching as her sister stormed out. Her brother sighed, rolling his eyes as his head fell into his hands. "Don't do that, Jon, looking all annoyed because I'm siding with her,"

"Don't start as well, Lya," he muttered tiredly, looking up at her, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Because you've been in battle too! You know what it's like to be outnumbered but with no other option than to fight!" He snapped slightly. Lyanna let out a short laugh.

"And I also know what it's like to be abused by my husband!" She snapped back with a glare. "Joffrey abused me, neglected me, raped me, beat me! He ordered his men to torture me because he wanted to hear me scream, he had Meryn Trant rape me and beat me because he wanted to watch me hurt,"

Jon cringed, not able to meet Lyanna's gaze. However, she was staring him dead on, although her eyes were streaming red, angry tears. Lyanna realised as she spoke she'd never gone into all the details to anyone. She'd spoke to Ned about it, but back then it was too fresh to come to terms with fully. Daenerys tried to never let her dwell on her pain, and Willas, whilst she loved him, couldn't bare to tell him all of it. Jon however, always knew all of Lyanna's secrets as children, and he was refusing to listen. If recounting all of her suffering would make him listen, then she would tell a thousand people, despite the weight now resting on her chest as she recounted it all.