They had been at sea for almost two weeks. They were almost out of provisions, and most of her men had suffered from seasickness. Despite this, Lyanna remained optimistic. Though they seemed no closer to land than they were a week ago, she was still closer to home than she was in Essos. Even Eryk seemed more upbeat about it all. Though he still suffered - like Lyanna did - he'd stopped blaming Lyanna, and he's stopped crying too, focusing all his energy on planning to find Alize's family.
On their fifteenth morning on the boat, Lyanna was sat sat at the front of the ship with Winter laid across her, the dire wolf hot and panting, as they watched Rey dive in and out of the water, fetching up fish, tossing them onto the deck. Since they had ran out of rice, fruit and grain, fish was all they were eating, even the two ships behind them had nothing but Dragon-caught fish. They tasted fine, Lyanna just hoped the diet wouldn't give her men scurvy. As Lyanna called Rey back to her (who was now the size of a wagon and as well trained as Winter), Eryk approached, followed by the Captain of their ship, Casca.
"We're close to Westeros, Lyanna," Eryk said, and she could hear the excitement in his voice.
"It'll take another night, but we should be at High Garden by sunrise tomorrow," Casca shrugged.
"Good, let's just hope the Tyrells are hospitable, otherwise it'll cut our trip short,"
***
Casca was right, and as the sun was rising the very next morning, Lyanna and her men caught sight of Westeros. The sight made her smile, let out a laugh and Eryk who was next to her began to laugh too.
"Westeros, home, we're almost home!" Lyanna practically cheered, almost like she was a small child again.
"Mi'lady, the ship will be stopping at the docks of High Garden, it's probably best if you prepare the men, y'know, in case of-" Casca began to explain.
"In case of a welcome party," Lyanna finished for him, before turning to those stood behind her, searching the crowd for the commander of her force. "Cassius? Commander Cassius!"
"You want them ready in case of a fight, Lady Stark? I'll have it done so," The Commander stepped forward, nodding as she spoke.
After Lyanna, Cassius was the best fighter on their ship, and there was no one she trusted more as commander or to prep her force. Cassius, who Lyanna noticed was hiding her true gender as a man. It seemed clear Cassius would rather hide as a man through how she presented herself, although Lyanna had seen through it the moment they had met. If she wanted to hide as a man, Lyanna was fine with that; it was her fighting sword she cared about, not her phallic one, or lack of.
She nodded at the commander, before going to her cabin, going to prep herself. She changed out of her full leathers into her long leather skirt, paired with a white, low-cut, cotton shirt. Attaching her swords to her belt and her dagger to the holster at her back. Letting her hair out of its tight bun, she twirled her bangs up into a crown style, allowing the rest of her hair to fall and flow free. When she wore her full leathers with her hair back, she looked like a boy. She wanted to be seen as leading an army as a woman.
***
Upon exiting her boat, Lyanna was greeted by a party of Tyrell soldiers, just like Casca said, their armour shining in the sun. They all looked brave and valiant, just like Knights should do. Compared to them, Lyanna's combination of Unsullied and Second Sons with miscellaneous weapons of choice seemed very rag-tag.
The man leading them wasn't a knight, Lyanna could tell. This man was clothed in light green robes, detailed in gold, the pattern of roses and vines showing off his sigil and house colours. His hair was to his jaw, curly but neat, matching his short, well-groomed beard. Though it was covered in stubble, Lyanna could see a chiselled jaw line, but not as sharp as those in the north. His eyes were green, a trademark of his house, they looked caring but strong; and beautiful. Everything about him was just that, even the sword on his belt, it's golden holy decorated in emeralds shining bright. The only flaw was the man's dependence on a cane, though that too was adorned in gold, and upon noticing that, Lyanna spotted his leg, which was twisted. This man was a cripple. This man was Willas Tyrell.
"You must be Lord Willas Tyrell of High Garden," Lyanna addressed, though she felt her stomach squirming.
"And you must be Lyanna Stark," he addressed, nodding his head in curtesy. "I am so sorry for your loss,"
"Me too," she considered telling him how sorry she was that his sister was marrying Joffrey, though that was treason.
"What brings you to High Garden, Lady Stark?" He asked, and she had never seen a man look at her so caringly, with wonder in his eyes about her. When she paused, not knowing what to say, he showed her a gentle smile to set her at ease. "You have nothing to fear here. There's a pretty hefty price of your head, but house Tyrell doesn't care for more money, or at least I don't,"
"Stand down," she said to her men behind her, who took their hands off the hilts of their swords. "Thank you, Lord Willas. If it is of your consent, I wish to stay within the Reach here in High Garden for some time,"
"I wish you to stay too, so feel free," he smiled, and Lyanna smiled back, although she felt her stomach turn in a way it never had before. Why did it feel that way? "You must have had a long and tiresome journey, let me show you to your room, I'll have your men taken care of properly, don't worry,"
As he spoke, he took a step forward, leaning on the cane, his left leg, the crippled one almost dragging behind the right, though Lyanna hardly noticed. She was too busy looking at his face, which held an expression of care, one that very few people had worn towards her. When he offered his arm to her, she didn't hesitate to take it.
***
Word count: 1081
***
Can anyone guess who her love interest is now? ;)
~Olivia