She did not see him for several days after they fought, but when he returned he had that hungry look in his eyes, the one that had sent a thrill through her body so many times before. Now her breath came quickly again, but not with excitement.
"I don't want you here," she said, backing away as he approached her. "I don't want to see you again. You make me sick, you really do!" She was shouting now, but he took hold of her wrists anyway with a grip so firm she could not break it no matter how she twisted.
"Come to bed, love," he said in his heart-breaking voice, as rich and musical as it had always been, and before she knew it she was pinned beneath him, and he was pulling aside the light fabric of her gown. She tried to push him away, but to no avail - for all his gentle manners, his warrior's strength was no match for her thin girl's body, hardened though it was by riding and fighting with her brothers.
She dreamed of Brandon that night, Brandon screaming her name and trying to reach her despite the rope that tightened around his neck whenever he moved. But she could not run to him or even scream at him to stop, and soon her brother collapsed to the ground, still and lifeless. She woke already sobbing and drew herself close under the covers, wishing she could somehow disappear and wake up back at Winterfell.
He came again the next day, and when he tried to kiss her she slapped him hard enough to leave a mark. He pushed her onto the bed and held her down again, and this time she did cry, angry tears that left her eyes red and swollen. Her distress seemed to disturb him, and although he did not leave her until he was finished, she did not see him the next day, or the next.
All news from the outside world stopped, and for the first time Lyanna truly felt like a prisoner. She tried the door to her room and found it was locked, so she opened a window and sat looking out at the lands below, imagining that she could climb out and fly away.
Her father and Brandon were dead, and by now Ned and Robert had surely joined them. She cried again at the thought of Ned, her sweetest brother, and the pain he must have endured before Aerys finally let him die. She did not want to marry Robert Baratheon, but she felt sick at the thought of him and Ned, inseparable since boyhood, forced to watch each other being tortured and killed in whatever horrible ways the mad king could dream up.
Now it was only her and Benjen left, for Benjen was at the Wall where even the king could not touch him. Lyanna fantasized about escaping the tower and stealing a horse and riding north until she found him. She and Benjen could cry together for all that they had lost, and then they could protect each other. Women were not permitted to join the Night's Watch, but she would be the first, and then she would be free forever: free from politics, free from Rhaegar, free from her own name.
But it was an idle dream, a child's dream, and she no longer felt much like a child.
