Daenerys and Lyanna both stood outside the large stone tower, looking at each other anxiously as they stood by the wooden door.
"We go in here, and we get Winter and the dragons back?" Lyanna asked nervously.
"And risk our lives doing so," Dany sighed.
"It will be worth it, I need Winter and you need your dragons," Lyanna pointed out, stroking the tight braid on the top of her head.
Ever since her hair had been cut there had been nothing to do with it, except for tight braids on the top of her head. They almost made her look manly, as her hair was no longer hanging around her face to feminise her large nose and strong jaw, but not manly enough, as since her arrival in Quarth, she had worn nothing but the airy dresses she had been given, mostly to be polite. However today she had made a special effort, dressing in her leather armours over a leather skirt she had sewn herself (as remarkable as it sounds, she'd been able to apply enough of the Septa's lessons to stitch together some strips of leather she had found at the market with Alize's help). Armed with her two swords at her belt, small Quartheen knives in her boots and Robb's dagger in a special holder on her back, she felt ready for a fight, although she knew that a fight was unlikely; the house of the undying was home to Warlocks, not warriors.
That didn't mean she wasn't afraid though. She was about to walk into a sorcerer's trap, who knew what would happen, what would be shown to her, what would greet her as she walked through those doors? Dany seemed to notice Lyanna's hand clench around the hilt of her sword and guessed her niece was nervous, so she placed her hand on her arm.
"Are you scared?" Dany asked her. Lyanna shook her head.
"No." She lied, but once she said it, it almost became true. She was a dire wolf of Winterfell, and a dragon of house Targaryen, she should fear nothing. "In the North, the only true thing we fear is winter, and the house of the undying isn't winter," Lyanna took a deep breath, and without waiting to see if her aunt was going to follow her, she opened the door and walked in.
Hearing the door slam behind her, Lyanna jumped slightly, before regaining herself. The hallway she was faced with was poorly lit, only with flickering candles hanging from the stone walls. The darkness reminded her of Winterfell's crypts, and the time when Robb and Jon tried to scare her, Sansa, Bran and Arya by pretending to be ghosts. A faint smile flickering on her face, Lyanna held both her hands out, stroking the stone walls, trying to feel her way to the end of the corridor. Normally, she didn't like the dark, but for once, she was comfortable in the minimal light, almost feeling one with it.
Eventually she reached the end, feeling a steel door. Trying to find the handle, Lyanna patted the metal, expecting the door to be locked, but when she found it, it turned, clicking as it pushed open. The opened door revealed something which made her heart cry; Winterfell.
Winterfell, how it was the day she left, the way she remembered it. It made her want to cry out in joy and sorrow, knowing she wouldn't see it for such a long time, but yet she was still seeing it. It wasn't exactly like how Winterfell was though, as the courtyard was empty, not even a dire wolf or a horse was trotting though. No Bran climbing the walls. No Theon laughing as he rode back through the courtyard on his way home from the brothel. No Rickon playing with toy sword with the other little children. No Sansa, sewing with the Septa, whist Arya ran around with the boys. No Jon training with Robb. No Lord and Lady Stark watching their children from the balcony. No Jory, Cayn, Fat Tom, or any one from her father's guard. No Hodor or Old Nan. No one was around, it was completely deserted.
That was until a beautiful woman stepped out from around the corner. Her face was pale and slim, her cheekbones well-defined. She had a slim little nose and full lips, her eyes a kind violet. Her white-blonde hair was left down with a few pink flowers braided into it, showing off natural curls, framing her face. A slim figure with wide hips was exaggerated by her pale pink dress, met with a golden necklace hanging around her neck. She was smiling, and it seemed like that is what she should always be doing, because it made her seem so much more beautiful, if that was possible.
A man seemed to follow her. His face was so similar to hers, with a strong jaw and a large nose. They had the same dark hair too, except his was so much neater, and slightly longer too, coming down to his shoulders. Dressed in the greys and whites of house Stark, he contrasted heavily with the woman's airy fashion, though her appearance looked just as strong as his.
It was like Lyanna had known these people all her life as recognition came to her immediately.
"Mother, father," she breathed out in shock, already running to them. They both took her into a tight embrace, Ayrella kissing her face, Brandon stroking her hair. She rested her head on her father's shoulder, her hand on her mother's arm, and without realising it, she was crying.
Lyanna had watched all her life as Lady Catelyn loved her children. She and Jon had stood on the side lines as Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon all had a mother who loved them deary, pouring all her love into them, and the two of them never had that; all they got were bitter words and harsh glares. For a brief period, Lyanna knew she had a father, a true one by blood, who would have loved her dearly, and she thought that would be enough, but now she was here, she realised that in the past few months she had neglected her fond feelings to her mother, focusing on her father instead because of her family. But now, now she was being held and loved by her mother, she knew how her siblings felt about Lady Catelyn, and she understood how Lady Catelyn felt about her children.
"Lyanna, my Lyanna, my daughter," her father spoke, looking at her face, his hand gently holding her cheek. She closed her eyes, relaxing into his hand, imagining what her life would be like if he really was her father. "You've grown up beautifully, our Ned brought you up well. How'd you handle that sword?"
"Uncle Eddard said I look like you when I fight," it was the first thing that came to mind, and then she realised which sword he was looking at; Ice. It should have been his sword, but after his and her grandfather's death, it passed to Ned. Pulling away from both of them slightly, Lyanna pulled Ice out of it's sheath and handed it to him, but instead he rested his hand on the hilt on top of hers. "I stole it, this should be Robb's or yours,"
He shook his head. "Dead men have no use for swords, it's yours, your blood right, and it suits you," he helped her slide it back into it's sheath, just as her mother grabbed her shoulder's, pulling her into another hug.
"I lived for sixteen years, and the best thing that ever happened to me was you," she cried onto Lyanna's shoulder, her words making Lyanna want to cry with her, not just because the best thing to happen to her happened hours before her death, or because she could relate to her though her own child. "You know that if we could've, we would have raised you ourselves,"
"Forget Catelyn Tully, I only ever wanted to be with your mother, and even if I didn't, I would have married her so you wouldn't of had to be a Snow," her father interjected, making Lyanna smirk slightly; she wondered what Lady Stark would think to that. "I'd of had you training since you were old enough,"
"And I'd have broken Robert's jaw if he tried to make you marry that little shit," her mother said, suddenly sounding upset and angry. "I'd have killed Joffrey if I'd have lived to meet him,"
"Trust me," Lyanna said firmly. "The next time I see him, I'll kill him myself. I'll make him suffer for what he had done to Uncle Ned, and the Stark men, and..." she couldn't bring herself to say his name.
"If you are to take revenge, you do it yourself," her father nodded.
"The man who passes the sentence should always swing the sword," father and daughter said together.
"I spent my entire life, wondering who my mother was, but when I found out who my parents were, that I not only had a mother but a father as well who never knew me, I knew that I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what you were like, and what you'd think of me. I hope I make you proud, because that's all I want to do,"
"You've made me proud, every day, and whatever you do, whether you stay in the east with Daenerys for the rest of your life as her advisor or if you rule over Winterfell or a keep of your own, I will always be proud of you, because you are a Stark, and you're my daughter," her father said firmly, holding her cheek in his hand, before he rested his forehead onto hers.
"She's my daughter too, Brandon, don't hog all the glory, I want to tell her how proud I am too!" Her mother joked, pulling her father away from her, hugging Lyanna tightly. "I love you, but you know this is just a dream and you can't stay forever. You need to go, find Winter, and live. Don't die young. Keep fighting, because as long as you're fighting, you can't ever loose," she grinned, touching the Targaryen pendant hanging around Lyanna's neck.
Lyanna stood back, looking at her parents once more. It was a dream, an illusion. They weren't really here, this was just a trick by the warlocks, but she had never felt happier. Cursing the warlocks to the others, Lyanna turned away and began walking to one of Winterfell's big oak doors, except the closer she got, the less it ressembled Winterfell.
By the time she was though the door, her parents were gone.
***
Word count: 1796
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OH MY GOD 10K!
First of all, I just wanna say thank you. Thank you to anyone who has ever read this book, voted, commented, or even just added it to a reading list or library. I owe you all so much, especially to my most dedicated readers who've been with me since this story wasn't even at 1K. Getting any reads is an achievement that I never expected, so getting to this milestone makes me really think I can get to my dream of being a screenwriter (with Harrison Ford starring in something I've written, but that's a whole other dream!)
I love this chapter, because I've finally write my boyfriend properly. I love Brandon Stark, so I hope you guys like him too. I tried really hard to write him and Ayrella so please leave me some feedback. I also personally love the next chapter, since it's the longest I've written so far!
Please vote and comment, and I'll love you all forever!
~Olivia