The Finding of Lya Stark

Winterfell

I take a wet wash cloth, and wash the blood and other bodily fluids away. I brush his hair back feeling the tears start. "Dad," I whisper sobbing into his chest. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry, this is all my fault."

"No, it's not Lass," one of the men says startling me. "My Lady," he says seeming slightly confused. "He died bravely trying to protect you. You were both very brave."

"I told him... I told him he needed to protect himself with some sort of weapon but he wouldn't listen to me."

"I am so sorry," I feel his hand on my shoulder. "I know he raised you, but he wasn't you're rightful Father. Think of your possibilities now. He would be proud to see you living with your true family." I nod wiping my eyes.

"I'm ready," he scoops my father up and carries him out to the yard. They lay his body in the grave, and bury him. I lay some flowers over it, deciding I'm done crying. "I need to sell his horse, and our cows, and go through some things."

We leave for Winterfell after midday, all six of us, with me in the middle so as not to lose me. I also know it's so I can't run again. I hadn't grabbed much, a necklace, my money, my bow and arrows, and a cloak the men had insisted on. We were travelling swiftly, and within moments we had passed the farthest I had ever been from my home. I don't comment, knowing one of them would bring up being born in Winterfell, but I wasn't counting that.

The day was long, and we stopped riding well after dark had fallen. I don't eat, just lay down and pass out where they let me. My dreams are filled with my father telling me he hated me, that he never actually wanted me, and then him dying.

I start awake and see that the sun is beginning to rise. The others are up and moving. One of them wordlessly pushes a bowl of meat towards me. I sit up and eat surprised at how hungry I am and how good it tastes. When I'm done, I go over behind a tree and pee. I stand and adjust my clothes. I go back and see they were all watching me.

"I'm not going to run," I mumble. "I wish to see this family of yours Lord Stark."

"We are your family too. I am your father. If you do not wish to call me so, Ned will do."

"Alright Ned," I pull myself up onto my horse, and we ride away.

The next day I find myself faltering as the towers of Winterfell loom overhead, the sounds of wolves howling fill the air. "I sent a raven," Ned says. "They will be expecting us." I take a deep breath in and hold it, letting it out as we pass through the gate. People are milling about, and predominantly standing in a line are a woman with four boys and two girls. Ned gets down handing the reigns off to a man and approaches them hugging them all. They whisper briefly but finally he stands. "You may get down Lya," he says kindly.

I look and see that everyone else had already dismounted and was meeting with their families. I grip my bag tightly to my body, and swinging a leg over the side I slide down to the ground. For the first time in a while I feel conscious of my towering height, at more than 6 feet tall I still looked down on everyone. "Nice to meet you," I say curtsying. Five wolves bound from nowhere and despite the cries of the family they stop in front of me, sniffing. I look at them shocked, and then they rub against me. At a cry from one of the boys they stand and lick my hand in turn before running off.

The woman puts a hand over her mouth, but doesn't say anything. "Lya, this is my wife, and your mother Catelyn. Your brother Robb, half-brother Jon Snow, sisters Sansa and Arya, and brothers Bran and Rickon."

"Pleased to meet you all," I say uncertainly curtsying. Catelyn starts forward then standing in front of me looking up at me.

She clears her throat, "you have grown into a beautiful young woman. I'm sure you wish to bathe and have a nice meal after your troubles," a maid rushes over.

"This way My Lady," she waits for me. It takes me a moment to realize that she was talking to me.

I stand my hair pinned up, wearing a dress that just barely fits me, and look in the mirror. My cheekbones are high, my hair red and golden, my eyes blue like Catelyn's. Maybe it was the truth. Maybe I did belong here. The door opens and Sansa comes in. "Hi," she says looking as uncertain as I felt.

"My Lady," I curtsy.

"I am not your Lady. We- we are sisters I guess."

"Yes, I guess we are," I turn back to the mirror.

"You are extremely tall..."

"I know."

"What do you like to do?"

"What do you mean what do I like to do?"

"What do you do in your spare time?"

"I don't have- well I didn't have spare time."

"Are you good at embroidery?"

"No, but I can make what I need to get by."

She nods, "I love it. I'm really good at it."

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen. And you're seventeen?"

"Yes," I say simply.

"Oh, it's time for dinner. I was sent to escort you," she holds out her arm. I look at it. "You're supposed to hold it, I am your escort." I take it wordlessly and she leads me out and down some stairs and to a small dining room.

"Lya," Catelyn says rising to her feet. I start to curtsy but then remember myself and blush. "Come sit." I take the seat next to her, sitting only slightly taller than her. "What do you think of Winterfell?"

"It's large," I say. I don't know what else to say to her, I had never seen anything as large in my life.

"Ned says, you were raised by an innkeeper?" she asks after there long moments of silence.

"Yes."

"I am very sorry to hear about what happened to your... guardian."

"He was my father..." I breathe out. "I didn't mean to offend I just meant, he raised me like a daughter."

"Some Father he was," Robb says from his spot across from me. "He kidnapped you. Is your maidenhood still intact? Did he sell you to his customers or did they take your for free? Was he gentle in your bed?"

"Robert!" I heard Ned say stopping him. I feel the heat and tears I had kept at bay rising to my cheeks.

I stand and clamber clumsily out of the bench, "may I be excused?" I ask holding back tears. I don't wait for a response, just walk out of the room. I continue to walk the tears falling silently as I approach the stables. A man spots me but doesn't say anything. I walk to Silver's stall, and hold her. I sob into her. "We don't belong here," I say shaking.

"Don't say that," a deep voice says startling me. I turn around, and see Jon.

"What do you want?" I wipe my face trying to hide my tears.

"I came to check on you. It's cold," he holds out a cloak.

"What makes you my half-brother?"
"I'm not a Stark. I'm a bastard."

"So, we share one parent not both?"

"Yea."

"That's not so bad. At least you were raised by them."

He shakes his head, "I've lived with Catelyn my whole life, and she always looks on me with such hate. But you, she looked on you with love as if you never left." I shift uncomfortably. "You were the daughter that was taken from them just as Robb and I were born. Now you're back," he sighs. "I'm leaving."

"Because of me?"

"No. I've been thinking about it for a while, but now they have you. What was it like living with an innkeeper?"

"He didn't sell me if that's what you are implying. He was my father."

"There you are!" Ned says coming in. "You're going to catch a cold, and Catelyn will have my head," he takes the cloak long forgotten from Jon's hands. He drapes it over my shoulders. "C'mon, let's all go back inside," he tries to steer me, but I shift uncomfortably away from him so I walk alone.