Hey! So I lied. This update it kind of long. Longer than I expected it to be. OOPS.
Aaaand, since I highly doubt I'll get another update out by tomorrow, Merry Christmas to everyone! Or, Happy Hanukkah, albeit belated. And Kwanzaa! In short, Happy Holidays!
I think that's about it! So, as always, thanks for reading/subscribing/faving and most especially reviewing! Which would be lovely, by the way :3
Enjoy!
Lyra
She had been left alone at supper that night; Elira sat on the makeshift dais next to her husband, who was chatting amicably with his half-brother. Even Matthew had left her- with good reason, of course- to guard little Ned and Lyanna, sleeping in their parents' tent.
Jon had been ushered to the high seat, earning him a glare from Lady Catelyn. Her dislike towards Jon was not unknown, even to a newcomer such as Lyra. It amazed her how the kindest person she knew could still be the victim of such pure, unadulterated loathing. Lady Catelyn will change her mind...once Jon helps Robb win the war, she'll see that he's not some baseborn scum.
On the dais was also Theon Greyjoy, the Starks' ward and Robb's closest friend. Ryker, Elira's twin, sat next to the Ironborn, with his wife, Arwyn Frey, and Lord Merek Manston, on her other side. Her eyes swooped over them, feeling a pang in her stomach as she watched them laugh and jest with each other. A part of her wished she could be up there and join in on the amusement, but another part of her knew that she would only ruin everything and makes things awkward. Life is hard when you're a Lannister, she thought dryly.
No one made any move to talk to her, nor did Lyra try to initiate a conversation with anyone. Jon had told her to say little, which she interpreted as 'shut the fuck up, or you'll regret it.' It made sense, though; one wrong word could result in her head joining the rest of the dishes on the table. I'm sure they wouldn't refuse to eat lion, she mused, looking around her. The Northerners did have a certain...wild quality about them.
Occasionally, she would meet Jon's eyes from across the clamber of people. He would smile at her, but she would make no attempt at returning the favor. Not even he could brighten her mood at this point.
She kept her eyes on her plate and shoveled the food around with her fork. She had somehow gotten placed in between Dacey Mormont, the Lord Commander's niece, and a squire Lannister had not cared to take the name of, but recognized his sigil to be that of House Frey.
"Girl, do you Southerners even eat?" Dacey boomed, nodding to Lyra's almost full plate. Mormont took a swig of her ale, throwing her head back. That was all they knew about Lyra; she was a Southern bastard. Lyra was sick of having to play the part of a bastard again, but it was something she was accustomed to. Even back home at Casterly Rock, she had felt like an outsider.
"I'm just not hungry," Lannister mumbled, avoiding Dacey's sharp gaze.
"Look at you-" Lyra yelped when Mormont pinched her side. "You haven't got any meat on you. It's any wonder how you can hold a sword."
"Thank you for your concern, but it's not needed," Lyra retorted, a bit harsher than intended. Dacey merely shrugged, unfazed by her tone, and turned to the others, effectively leaving Lannister alone once more.
She participated in a bit of idle small talk with the Frey squire next to her, not giving out more than her first name, and smoothly avoiding his prodding questions, redirecting them back to him with ease. Having Tyrion for a cousin had really come in handy; he'd taught her how to use her words and sweet talk her way out of a disadvantageous situation. She remembered Jaime telling her to just use her sword, while Cersei had told her that her cunt was the best weapon of all. Cunts, swords, words...they all end with the same thing. War.
Lord Robb stood up close to the end of the meal, clinking his goblet with his fork to get everyone's attention. The room fell silent, and all eyes were on the Young Wolf. "I would call Lady Lyra Hill to join us to answer some questions."
"What does a flowery Southern bastard know of anything?" one of the men spat angrily.
"More than us, so it seems," Robb countered. The direwolf sitting as it feet snarled in warning. Stark's eyes locked with Lyra's from across the sea of people, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward ever so slightly, but there was no amusement in his face, nor in his striking blue eyes.
Slowly, shakily, she lifted herself out of her seat, her hands gripping the edge of the table when her knees threatened to give way. Swallowing thickly, she followed Robb and the rest who had sat on the dais. She tried to ignore the stares and glares of the soldiers, feeling each set of eyes burning holes into the back of her head. Cersei's words echoed in her ears- "The lion does not tremble in the presence of the other animals. The lion dominates, is the top. No one can beat the lion."
Yet Jaime was being held a prisoner of war by Robb and his men, along with countless other Lannister soldiers. Cousin Cersei, my dear...your logic seems to be flawed.
Lannister followed the others to Robb's tent. The warm evening breeze kissed her face, running its fingers through her hair. She had grown used to the biting, nipping winds up North. Going back South was a nice change.
Ryker Manston pulled her aside before they stepped inside the tent. "If Lord Robb asks you something, don't lie. He'll know."
"He's just a man," she protested, jerking her arm out of Ryker's hold.
The Manston boy smiled humorlessly. "He'll know if you lie because Grey Wind will bite your fingers off if you do."
Her eyes widened in horror, her face paling. "U-understood," she squeaked out, taking a step back from the boy.
"Good girl," he praised, putting his hand on the small of her back and herding her inside the tent. The group was already gathered around the table, every set of eyes on her.
"Lady Hill," Robb greeted, his voice tight. "Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chair at the end of the table. She nodded and scurried to it, her pulse racing wildly. Is this how I die?
"Don't be nervous," Theon Greyjoy drawled, sitting down next to her. "We're only going to ask you a few questions." That's very reassuring, thank you for your input, Greyjoy.
Lord Merek Manston cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. "My daughter spoke very highly of you."
"I am honored, my lord," Lyra replied automatically, her lessons with her septa kicking in. Don't say more than you have to, and only speak when spoken to.
"Both Stannis and Renly Baratheon have proclaimed themselves as the rightful king," Robb informed her, getting straight to the point. "Both of them question Joffrey's claim to the throne. As a Lannister, we thought that you would know a bit more about the reason for their doubts, since your cousin, the Kingslayer, had no mind to tell us anything."
Her heart leaped into her throat. "My lord, you're gravely mistaken-"
"Jon told us everything." Stark's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. It was only then that Lyra had noticed that Snow wasn't there. Too guilty to see me, Snow? You fucking bastard; you're getting your arse kicked.
"There's nothing to worry about," Elira piped up. "We won't tell your family about your whereabouts, and you're perfectly safe here." She offered Lannister a small smile, but it brought no comfort to the Southerner.
"At my wife and my brother's request," Robb added, crushing any of Lyra's hopes of being letting her go so easily. "You'll remain here and be treated as-"
"-as a hostage?" Lyra bit out, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Theon shoot up, his hand resting almost casually on the hilt of his sword.
"As one of my soldiers." Robb glared at her, his nostrils flaring. "My wife told me that she had named you her sworn shield, and I won't interfere with that."
"Pardons, my lord," Lannister squeaked, slinking deeper into her cloak.
He straightened his back, bringing himself to his full height. Trying to intimidate me, eh, Stark? The Young Wolf…well that's all you are. A boy. "Do you have any idea as to why Stannis and Renly would doubt Joffrey's claim to the throne?"
"Queen Cersei was only ever married to Robert Baratheon, and even if she had a lover, the point of an affair is secrecy." She crossed her arms over her chest, defiant. "My cousin and I were never close, my lord. I doubt she would tell me anything, even if we were close."
"The Lannisters tried to murder my younger brother, Bran. No doubt you've met him." Robb's cheek twitched. "An innocent boy of ten. They sent an assassin in the dead of night to kill him."
"I apologize on behalf of my family, Lord Stark, but I had nothing to do with it, if that's what you're asking. I was at the Wall at that point. I'd already severed all ties with my family."
"I wasn't accusing you of anything. I want to know why they tried to kill him."
Lyra took in a deep breath in order to calm herself. "My lord, how could I possibly know the answer to that if I wasn't there at the time of the occurrence?"
His expression softened, and she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Just because you're a big bad wolf, Stark, doesn't mean you can talk to me like this. "You're our only hope for finding anything out."
"I'm afraid I know nothing about the legitimacy of Joffrey and the rest. My apologies, my lord." She shrugged. "Perhaps you should try talking to Tyrion. He's the only sensible Lannister, and I'm sure he'd be eager to get this matter sorted out."
"I already spoke to him," Lady Catelyn interjected. "We crossed paths on the Kingsroad, and I took him to the Eyrie to answer for his crimes. He got away unscathed." So that's why he didn't send any letters. Looks like you got yourself into a bit of trouble, Imp.
"Lord Tywin was appointed Hand of the King," Ryker reminded them. "Perhaps one of us can go to King's Landing and try to get some answers, or negotiate-"
"You think he'll let you leave?" Catelyn interrupted, meeting the hazel eyes of the Manston boy. "You're committing treason, not to mention you're the Robb's brother by law. They could kill you, or worse." Ryker nodded in understanding, defeated.
"It will be impossible to reason with Lord Tywin," Merek said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The Lannisters look down upon everyone else. They will not agree to any terms unless they are their own."
"Any idea of peace right now is just that- an idea. Any hope at peace was shattered after they killed Lord Eddard," Greyjoy pointed out. Robb visibly stiffened, and didn't even relax when Elira put a hand on his shoulder.
Lyra cleared her throat, and everyone whipped their heads toward her, finally remembering that she was there. "Perhaps a marriage between the Lannisters and the Starks would…quell things." She blushed fiercely, Jon coming to mind. Elira gave her a knowing look, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
Robb stared at her, his gaze hard and unblinking. "Jon is already betrothed to one of Lord Walder Frey's daughters." She felt a block of ice lodge itself in the pit of her stomach. Jon's…getting married? She swallowed thickly and tried to formulate a response, a thought, anything. She couldn't think straight, and felt as if she would pass out at any given moment.
Elira- thank the gods for Elira- noticed her discomfort, and was quick to sympathize. "Lyra, how about you go get some rest? I'm sure we can pick this up again tomorrow." She looked at her husband pointedly. Robb had the grace to blush, and nodded his head wordlessly.
"Thank you, my lady," Lyra croaked out. She braced herself on the edge of the table and pulled herself out of her chair. "My apologies, if I was not able to help out with anything," she added, remembering her courtesies. Elle only smiled softly. Lannister dashed out of the tent, a wave of nausea coming over her.
An arm reached out and grabbed her, rooting her in place. "Let me go!" she hissed, squirming in the iron grip. She looked up and saw Ryker Manston, studying her with hazel eyes. "What do you want, my lord?" she snapped, her tone icy.
"A lifetime ago, I wouldn't understand why you'd be so upset," he began, his voice quiet. "But now I do. I love my wife more than anything, and I can't imagine being without her." He released his hold on her. "We'll find a way for you to be with Jon. I swear it on my life."