"Give him back." Clad in flimsy garb, the sole daughter of House Stark faced her father's bannerman, waves of loathing rolling off her of, though heavily restrained. "Do you wish to be kicked without the walls that have long protected you?" The tiny creature mewled in the man's arms, fists flailing.
"This is our only chance." The maester stared at her with nearly palpable pity.
"You monsters! He is just a child!" Her child shrieked as though in response to her yell. "My father will never fall for your ruse."
"Babes die." Terror took over the she-wolf's mien.
"Do daughters die as well?"
"If need be."
Lyanna could feel her throat closing around the scream she did not quite manage to choke out. Master Walys, of all men to betray her, it had to be one who'd watched her grow. They had ridden off with her son and left her with two of the men.
One was digging. The other watched. She trashed her head around, willing him to take off the cloth blocking her voice. She did not quite know what to make of the look of him. He sighed and stood, drawing near to her.
She held her breath and closed her eyes.
Snow crunched.
A yell rang through the clearing.
Wide-eyed she looked at the corpses. These two men, she'd known them. They'd served in her father's keep. She would never have believed them capable of such cruelty as they had dealt upon her.
They lied dead at her feet.
The imposing figure clad in tattered blacks knelt by her side. She felt the sharp kiss of steel against her scraped knuckles and then the ropes loosened. The gag followed, leaving her mouth free at long last.
Without a second thought she grabbed onto the stranger's arm. "They took my son. I have to get him back."
"Where is he?" Lyanna would have gladly cut the man's throat were she not in need of his knowledge at the moment. Though the others had run off, Master Walys chief among them, the man staring up into her eyes was obliged to remain behind due to a faulty leg.
"It is too late, lady. The creatures took him. Winterfell is now safe. Take my life if you would." His gaze dropped from hers and remained pinned to the ground.
In the face of such callousness, she could do little but release her rage.
Blood splattered across the pristine whiteness. Heat scalded her hands.
"Don't tell me that," she insisted, looking at the man and the strange beast he rode. "There must be something. There must be."
"If it is as the man told it, your son is gone. I shall take you back to Winterfell."
"My son is not gone." Not her babe. Not her poor, sweet child. "If you shan't help me find him, I will do it on my own."
"You would never survive the night on your own."
"I will, for my son. Those creatures can be bested with fire. I have a torch."
"The foul servants are of no interest to you."
"Dead? What mean you? What nonsense are you speaking, man?" Ned felt as though the heavens bore down upon him.
"It is true, Your Grace." His lady wife held their son, a frown marring her face. "The maester told me as soon as dawn broke. I am so very sorry."
Realisation punched him. Ned started. "What have you done with her and Jon?"
"The ashes were laid near Brandon's grave. I gave orders to have a place prepared for her as well."
Aught was not right. His father was dead. Brandon had gone before him. Lyanna and her son?
"She told me she would never rest until she gained father's forgiveness."
The Crown Prince poured more wine into the cups. Ned did not know what to say to the man. "If we can secure Castle Black we could spread out the men along what remains of the Wall. Likely as not, with sufficient numbers we can drive them back. Buy us time at least."
"Why did she name him Jon?" Though the man had not much bothered with words since they'd entered the solar, such questions petered out every now and again.
"Daemon would have raised too many eyebrows."
Ned looked down into his own cup. The red liquid sloshed dangerously close to the rim as he lifted it.
"Nay; look at this spot. That is a bloodstain." Ned shook his head, leaning in slightly. "The cup full of wine rolls under the bed and there is blood here. It does not look suspicious to you? One of you men is missing. He has been gone for some time, it appears. Approximately since your sister's death."
"No one would harm my sister within these walls." Drawing back, Ned met the Prince's gaze. "I want this to be a lie just as much as you do, Your Grace. But she is gone."
It made no sense. Who would dare touch a hair on his sister's head? Who would take such a risk?
Catelyn seemed to be completely in her element in the nursery. "I cannot imagine her grief," she said, placing her hand upon his. "And I cannot explain it to myself at all. They were just fine the last I saw them. And they burned the bodies before I'd even birthed Robb."
"What?" His head shot up. "You never saw the bodies?" His mind refused to accept her nod. It was much too horrifying to contemplate. And yet there was his young wife, telling him his sister had not been ill. Her babe had given no signs of sickening.
"It was not your fault, my lord."
Benjen looked between him and the Crown Prince. "Hounds. Hounds might be able to track her." Ned felt himself nod even knowing he could not send out search parties. That would alert too many. "With this snows, though, it would be difficult even with our best."
"Aye; there is little reason to send out hounds. We need to find out who knows aught of this. Have the story corroborated from as many sources as we can."
"His Grace has the right of it."
"I will speak to the guards," the youngest brother offered. "I know one or two who might aid."
Just an AU idea. Should I pursue?
