"Lya..."
I grumbled and rolled over.
While Lyanna was an early riser. I wasn't. I was the kind of person who was one step removed from the walking dead for the first hour after waking. It seems to have carried over.
While I'd apparently inherited an entire luggage set's worth of emotional baggage, I'd missed out on her ability to be up in a wink, bright eyed, and ready to grab the day by the balls.
How the fuck was that fair.
Slowly, with a groan I sat up and glanced over to Ned, feeling very bit like the walking dead.
He blinked wide eyed, and then and scrunched his nose while biting his lip.
"Huh?"
He smiled and coughed, a slight... sound... coming from his mouth. Was he fucking laughing at me?
"What. The. Fuck."
He coughed and moved his hand to the edge of his mouth, stick fighting back laughter.
I did the same and... yeah. I had fucking hair in my mouth. And apparently I'd been drooling in my sleep. And you know what? I'd probably bet good money that I had some truly epic bedhead going.
Oh glory be.
"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, smartass. Stop gawking and hand me a brush," I grumbled, By the gods, I'd kill someone for a nice cup of English breakfast tea. Seriously, I'd strangle a motherfucker for some tea.
Dutifully, and with much amusement on his face, he handed me the brush from my nightstand and I went to work.
Bastard.
"Did you have to wake me so early, Ned?" I grumbled as I started putting my long black locks under control, "So what do you want?"
"We are prepared to leave," he replied. "You need but get dressed and..."
Fuck this sleepy shit, I was on my feet and ready to go in an instant. "Why didn't you tell me earlier!"
He rolled his eyes. "I tried. Twice," he replied. "The first time you threw your pillow at me. The second you told me to 'go fuck myself with a chainsaw'. I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound terribly pleasant."
I blinked. Well shit.
Spying a change of clothes at the edge of the bed, I began to shuck off my night dress without hesitation, only taking a moment to call out a fair warning.
"Turn around, Ned. I need to get dressed!" I exclaimed as I bolted behind my changing screen.I wanted to get the fuck out of this hellhole!
"Lyanna!" His exasperation was apparent as he shielded his eyes and turned about. "I should go."
"Eddard, every moment I spend in this fetid shithole further ablates the tattered, broken, pathetic remnants of what was once my sanity. I fear that if I spend even a moment longer than I must in this fucking tower, I will go inextricably mad,"
Now completely nude, I took a moment to look at the dress waiting for me in earnest and repressed the urge to groan. It was a pretty dress. Form fitting and graceful, well made and well wearing. The kind Lyanna had worn most of her life when frolicking through the countryside like a bloody fawn. Practical, beautiful, and near impossible to put on without a second set of hands.
Really, Ned?
"Besides, I need someone to help me lace up this dress and by the virtue of your presence, you just volunteered," I replied as I pulled on my shift and mentally noted that at some point I'd need to invent the bra.
"I understand," He replied, "Which is why I make sure that everything was prepared. As soon as you're..." He coughed, "proper and we've eaten, we can leave."
"We'll eat on the road," I replied tersely
"I had a feeling you'd say that," he replied calmly.
I smiled. "Good. Now help me with this dress."
He blinked. "What do I do?"
"The lances along my back. Just pull the strings and tie a bow when I tell you to."
He nodded. "Very well."
He did so quickly and surprisingly efficiently. I'd been afraid that he'd have done it too tightly and cut off my air flow, but he was surprisingly gentle. Though considering the number of laces in the average suit of plate, he probably was just used to it.
"Very good. Now tie."
He nodded and did so. Without hesitation, I then turned my attention to the lances that lie under my arms. While it would take a little fiddling I could handle these myself.
"Good job, Ned," I remarked with a mirthful smile. "If the whole 'Lord Paramount' thing doesn't work out, I'm sure you'd be able to find swift work as a Lady in Waiting."
He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Behold the almighty power of terrible jokes!
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he replied drolly.
"Good," I grinned, "Because there's something else I want to do before we leave. Though you might think it a little bit... crazy."
"Yes, Lya," he asked. I could tell that he was almost dreading what I'd ask next. After all, I'd expressed some relatively outrageous desires. Such as desecrating the bodies of the Kingsguard and claiming Dawn as my own.
Which I'd hadn't given up on, mind you.
"I want to torch this place," I replied with a vicious smile. "I hate it. I hate it and I want to burn it to the fucking ground."
He remained quiet for a moment and then nodded baring just a hint of a smile. "Aye, Lya. That's a more than reasonable request."
Score.
There are no words to describe how liberating it was to be away from that fucking tower.
Or rather the pillar of flame in the distance that was once a tower. There'd been a goodly amount of firewood inside it and while the walls were stone, most of the internals were wood. All you needed was a fire able to get the seasoned timbers alight and it would all come crashing down.
A lit torch thrown onto my bed was more than enough to get it going.
For the fourth time in as many minutes I looked back and smiled as I walked along beside my horse, patting the animal on the side as I lead it be the reigns.
When I said I wanted to walk for a time, the others had been confused. Lyanna had been quite the rider, to the point she was said to be half horse. She loved riding and I sure as shit felt the desire to jump onto the animal's back and go flying off into the sunset, but the fact was I needed to walk.
Not the entire way, no, but I'd... she'd... we'd. Ugh. Anyways, this body had been sealed in that tower for the better part of a year. Early on they'd permitted Lyanna to go for walkies, but had ceased to do so after the third escape attempted.
Almost got away that time too. Took the fuckers three days to track me down that time. It was the only time the Motherfucker had actually been angry enough to beat me. After that he'd forbade me from leaving the tower.
Probably one of the reasons why Lyanna had died in childbirth. Her body was weakened from the lack of exercise.
In fact, I was already starting to feel it. We were keeping up a good pace and these mountains were rather steep. Walking down the incline had been easy, but now it was starting to pick up and I was feeling the burn. I'd need to mount up before I got too sweaty. I only had so many traveling outfits and for us the closest washer-woman was in Starfall.
It took more effort than I'd have liked to mount the chestnut riding horse that had once belonged to Martyn Cassel. Taking a moment to adjust my sword I trotted up to the front of the pack, distancing myself from the lingering stench of the corpses being carried behind us.
I had to smile at that. Yes. My sword.
'Father' had never let Lyanna carry a sword when she traveled, but he was no longer the Lord of Winterfell. Ned was, and there seemed to be very little he could deny me at this point. Except for Dawn. Which would be mine. I had plans for that fucking blade and him him handing it over with a smile like a dumb, lovestruck puppy was not on the list.
He'd naturally been uncomfortable with me claiming a blade from the belongings of his companions. Those of the dead kingsguard he'd been far less protective of. While he was against mutilating the bodies, and he still wouldn't let me have the epic magical item, their conventional arms and armor were another issue entirely. From the looks of things, their equipment would be funding the first leg of our trip.
Having been given my pick of the blades, I'd decided to go with Hightower's arming sword. Not only was it the finest of my options, but there was a practical reason as well. He was the tallest of the three. This might seem to be something of an oxymoron. I was easily shorter than most men. For a slim girl like me to use a big man's sword might seem foolish, but with the size of the hilt, necessitated by his monstrously large hands, made it practically a bastard sword.
Hands.
She shuddered for a moment.
Out of all of them, he was by far the one she hated most. When Dayne looked at her, he could see the self-loathing in his eyes. When Whent looked at her, she could see pity and doubt. When he looked at her, she saw only a singular dedication to his duty. As if whatever had once been a man inside him had died long ago, replaced by a well polished automaton.
In fact, if it had not been for him, just perhaps she could have awoken whatever withered fragments of honor remained in one of those sons of bitches. But he was steadfast and quick to remind them that it was their place to 'defend their king, not to judge him'.
To make matters worse, the others had been complicit in her hell, but he'd been a participant. When he'd arrived, the Motherfucker had yet to impregnate her. At first methods of getting into her skirts had mostly been shame, lies, and manipulation.
But when word came of her father and brother, he'd lost his ability to manipulate her into having sex. She rebuked him time and time again. Violently.
A feral smile came to my face. He was reluctant to use force, but I wasn't. I kicked. I screamed. I bit. I clawed. I made it almost impossible for him to take me. So he ordered Hightower to restrain me.
And of course, the Knight Commander of the Kingsguard, the shining beacon of chivalry and knightly virtue... sworn to courage and justice, to protect woman and defend the innocent, with his life and honor... held me down without a moment's doubt or hesitation while his prince raped a child into me.
There were only three people in this world that Lyanna had hated completely and without reservation.
The Mad King.
The Motherfucker.
And Gerold Fucking Hightower.
Now, my new list was quite a bit longer, as the events to come, and had given me quite the number of targets. The War of the Five Kings had added several to her lists, both relative and absolute. First and second on that list respectively were Tywin Lannister and Walder Frey.
Simply put, they needed to die. Tywin was an abomination of a man who'd burn the world for the sake of his ego. And Walder was simply a wretched, baleful creature who had lived several decades past his worth... not that he'd ever had a lick of value as a human being.
Tywin, was sadly, unassailable. Too powerful, too well defended. A direct attack was for all practical purposes impossible. But she could slowly ablate his influence over time. Nothing too grand, as the man was both as petty and baneful as his cunt daughter while actually managing to be dangerously competent.
Walder on the other hand was an old man who was long past due. I would be honestly surprised if there was a single human being on this... planet... who actually valued his life. The only reason he probably hadn't been smothered with a pillow was because he'd managed to browbeat and abuse everyone around him into submission. He would be unmissed and his death would be unlamented.
Also on that list were Balon Greyjoy and Ramsay Snow. Balon would be easy to dispose of. His rebellion was inevitable. His ego would permit nothing less. As much as it made her skin crawl to think it, all she'd have to do was extract a promise out of Robert to end him rather than allowing him to bend at the knee.
Snow was almost as simple. As much as it disgusted her to plan the death of a child, the fact was that there was something seriously wrong with him. He was sick, and his sickness was the kind that would spread like a plague. Thankfully, disposing of him would be easy. He was undefended and until he killed Roose's trueborn son, only accounted for in passing. A small bag of coin and a swift dagger in the night would end his threat quick and clean.
Then of course there was Gregor Clegane. That rapist monster offended her on a visceral level. He needed to die, not just because he shouldn't be permitted to exist but because he was a threat to the realm. As long as he lived, Dorne would never be willing to accept Baratheon rule. One horrific man's life for the good of the realm. It wasn't complex math.
Thankfully, he would also be somewhat easy to deal with. Plant the idea in Robert's head and maybe suggest using Lorch as a delivery man once the Mountain had lost his. It wouldn't completely placate the Dornish, but it would do much to mend the wound before it had a decade to fester and boil.
Littlefinger, ironically, wasn't on the list. For as much as I hated what Baelish would become and would do to House Stark, I also could see myself in him. He was a creature of other's creation, made bitter and driven half-mad by being on the ass end of a restrictive social structure which I too found utterly contemptible.
He could have Gulltown as far as I was concerned. Own the brothels he wanted. Get a cut of every pie, with rights to every coin he could steal from Jon Arryn's coffers. As long as he didn't become a danger to the realm, I couldn't give a fuck. He just couldn't be permitted to become Master of Coin...
"A penny for your thoughts, my lady?"
I was drawn from my thoughts of murder and enemies by the calm, quiet voice of Howland Reed.
Short and lean, the Crannogman was fast as a whip and far tougher than he looked. His face was thin, but attractive with a rare but expressive smile. Lyanna had spent long hours during her captivity wondering if her biggest mistake had been trying to lose her maidenhead to the prince, and not her father's cute and reliable bannerman.
Though honestly, I had the feeling that The Motherfucker would have taken her regardless. But at least then I could look back at her first time and not be filled with disgust and self-recrimination.
"Just considering the future, Howland," I replied with a smile.
"Must be a dark future to earn such a grim cast," he observed. "What troubles you?"
I paused and considered a manner in which to answer that didn't show my hand.
"When I was taken I was to be Lady of Storm's End," I said after a moment's thought, "Now I'm to be the Queen of Westeros. The more I consider the situation the more threats I notice. The more enemies I see. The situation is complicated and profoundly dangerous and I'm not ready."
"You will be," he replied, "You're a brave woman. Braver than most men."
I chuckled. Well, at least tried to. Came out more a girlish giggle. "Why Lord Reed I'd almost think you were flirting with me."
He flushed. "I'm a wedded man and if the gods are indeed just, a father by now."
"Truly?" I asked. I knew he'd have two kids by the beginning of the book, but Lyanna hadn't.
He nodded. "She was the daughter of one of my father's bannermen. We were wed shortly after you were taken."
I nodded. "I hope the marriage is a happy one."
He smiled. "Jyana is a good woman. I believe that happiness will come in time."
I sighed. "I'd like to say the same about Robert and myself, but before I can do that I need to make sure he doesn't keep tripping and fall into into strange prostitutes."
"If anyone can do it, it is you my lady."
"Thank you, Reed," I grinned, "So, son or daughter?"
"I don't know, but I'm hoping for son," he admitted.
"And is there something wrong with a daughter?" I asked.
He smiled and shook his head. "Of course not, but it is the nature of men to wish for sons."
"And if I told you she bore you a daughter?" I asked.
"Then I'd raise her to be a beautiful and courageous as my Lady Stark, of course."
I laughed. "Well, if you do indeed have a daughter we will have to introduce her to my son. Perhaps when they come of age, if they should find one another to their liking then we can betroth them and I shall call you my brother."
I knew Meera would grow up to be an awesome girl. Had she and Lyanna been of the same generation, they would have been thick as thieves. Exactly the kind of girl mama wanted for her little Bran.
He laughed, "I would like that, but what lordship would your boy have to offer my daughter?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"I shall ask Ned to grant him Moat Cailin," I replied with a smile. "Together they will rebuild it and found a town. Perhaps even a great city. A gateway to the north, a place where the Crannogmen and First Men live as brothers. Where it is our peoples who laugh at the Andels, and where our merchants squeeze arrogant southrons for every red penny."
He laughed. "If you can get Ned to give him the castle, then we'll discuss it. But I still think she bore me a son."
I raised an eyebrow. "Wager then?"
He smiled. "If I have son, you must wear an item bearing my house colors somewhere on your person during your coronation as queen."
I snorted, "I'd do that anyways to honor you as one of my surviving saviors."
"So what would you ask, my lady?"
"Once I'm queen... one day Robert and I will visit you. We will stay at your floating castle, and you will teach us to hunt Lizard Lions."
"I would have done that anyways as well. You'd need but ask."
I smiled. "Then it's not much of a bet is it?"
"I guess not," he replied, "But I still say she bore me a son."
"Then prepare yourself for disappointment, Holly."
And together we laughed.
