Winterfell

Lysara Stark

Lysara knocks lightly on her sister's door before entering, her eyes land on her fierce sister who turns to her, a frown etched upon her agitated face. Lysara knows of that look all too well, for she too bears that look when she is annoyed. It is like looking into a mirror of my younger self, Lysara muses to herself as a small humorous smirk appears on her face as she looks to her younger, dark haired sister.

Lysara chuckles lightly at the pout forming on her sister's face as she stuffs more clothes into her case. She rolls her eyes and approaches her sister's case that was no doubt carelessly thrown on her bed and unpacked her clothing before folding each item of clothing with care. Her grey eyes shot to her sister and couldn't help but smile at her fierce attitude. It shall help her in the darker days to come, Lysara thought. Her mother hated it when she and everyone else, with the exceptions of Sansa and Septa Mordane, encouraged her Northern spirit. A wild she-wolf.

"Our Lord father asked me to check on you," Lysara states and makes her way further into her sister's chambers. "He said that you were struggling."

"'They're not properly folded'," Arya says, her voice mocking Septa Mordane while she forcefully shoves dresses into her case and her face remains agitated. "And Sansa stuck her big, pointy nose in and said that I wasn't fit for King's Landing. Like I care! Who cares if my clothes are messy? It's not like the Queen is going to be looking through my things...my clothes are going to get messed up anyway!"

Lysara chuckles lightly at the pout forming on her sister's face as she stuffs more clothes into her case. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she approaches her sister's case that was no doubt carelessly thrown onto her bed. She unpacked her sister's clothing before folding each item of clothing with care, placing them in a small pile beside the case. Her grey eyes shot to her sister and her lips couldn't help but twitch into a smile at her sister's fierce attitude. It shall help her in the darker days to come, Lysara thought. Her mother hated it when she and everyone else, with the exceptions of Sansa and Septa Mordane, encouraged her Northern spirit. A wild she-wolf.

"And what of Nymeria? Has she learned any new tricks?" Lysara teased lightly. Arya's face lit up with joy and turns to the pup.

"Watch," Arya demands while she straightens up her slouching pose and looks to the pup, the pup had its feet placed over a pair of her shoes. "Nymeria. My shoes."

The wolf pup whines loudly, tilting her head to the side in confusion because of the command. Arya orders it of Nymeria once more and then points her foot to the shoes but all the pup does is rest its head upon its paws and whines once more. Lysara smirks, her eyebrows quirking up in amusement. Arya spins around sharply on her heel to face her at the sound of a chortle that she couldn't help but let escape passed her lips at the humorous sight in front of her.

"A wonderful sight to behold." Lysara quips, her smirk widening.

"It is," Arya says sharply before turning her attention back to the direwolf. Her younger, shorter sister straightens her back again and her voice was filled with the same firmness and fierceness as she gives the command, raising her voice louder than it was before but Lysara could sense and hear the frustration in her younger sister's voice as the pup whimpers. "Nymeria, my shoes!"

"What is this?" Lysara asks coolly when she pulls out a long thin cloth and pulls back the coverings to reveal a thin sword and inspects it.

"A sword," Arya says simply but Lysara's eyes grow stern and she turns to face her.

"I know what it is. I am asking why do you have this? A sword?" Lysara inquires, before sheathing the sword.

"Jon," Arya answered vaguely before her tone turned begging as her eyes became pleading. "It's a present. Don't tell anyone. Please, Lysara!"

"I was not planning on telling anyone. This sword was made for you," She tells her, her voice growing distant as the whispers around her pick up. "You must understand, that this is no wooden sword. This sword will hurt and end the lives of many if wielded correctly. It may not cut a man's head clean off but a man could pick his teeth with it. A needle."

"How...how do you know that is what I called my sword?" Arya asked with a gasp, making her way for her quickly.

"I hear things," Lysara responds lightly before she looks down at her sister, with a raised brow. "You must work at swordplay every day, you cannot miss a lesson. Understand? A darkness stirs within any being once a sword is thrust into their hand. What was the first lesson you learned, Arya?"

"Stick them with the pointy end," Arya states.

Her face grows happier as Lysara places the sword in the case but puts it nearer the bottom, making sure it was well hidden and couldn't be seen easily. Lysara wanted to scold Arya about how her cockiness would be the end of her someday but the look on her sister's face, the tears that she refused to let fall and the eyes of a whimpering pup, caused her normal blank face to crack, she looked to her sister with a soft look. Arya jumps up and throws her arms around Lysara's neck and she sniffs loudly. Lysara stumbles back slightly at the ferocity of Arya but returns the embrace back. She wraps her arms around her sister and hugs her back, her hold firm and warm.

"I am going to miss you, she-wolf." Lysara murmurs, biting back her own tears. This shall be the last time we meet. I will never see you again. If R'hllor is just, he shall let us meet again in another lifetime.

"I'll miss you too," Arya whispered and sniffles at her words.

They remain locked in an embrace for some time but to her, it felt like a lifetime. The scorching heat that radiated from her body gave warmth to Arya's forever cold body. Lysara's eyes flicker towards Nymeria and their eyes lock, grey meeting gold. You protect her, Lysara orders the wolf silently even though she knows that the beast would never understand the pained look in her eyes. Though for a brief moment it seems the wolf nods towards her either that she is growing insane.

"You will write to me!" Arya orders, a sob behind her words. "You will."

"I will write. Every waking moment until you grow bored of my letters." Lysara confirms, patting the small girl's back as a form of comfort. Lysara knew that their journey to King's Landing would turn sour, a Lady would be killed as will the hopes and dreams of youth. She wanted to refuse those visions and dreams she received but could not help it. "For the night is dark and full of terrors."

Lysara held a solemn look on her face as she trails around the grounds of Winterfell until she found her Lord father deep in discussion with King Robert Baratheon. Though she briefly looks on in hidden fear as she sees the look on King Robert's face. The fury that House Baratheon was known for is present in his features. His blue eyes were stormy and thunderous, his lips were pulling into a straight line and his dark brows were furrowed, his entire body rigid.

She hums slightly to draw them away from their harsh whispers and they both turn around to look at her. Eyes of grey land on her, her father gives her a strange look she cannot quite comprehend. Though she decides to ignore this look and makes her way towards them. Her skirts trailing against the stones is the only noise heard other than her steady breath as she reaches her Lord father and the large stag King.

"It is a shame that we could not have spoken sooner, Your Majesty." Lysara begins, flattening her red skirt with her hands. She tried not to feel naked under the King's piercing gaze, as he undressed her with his eyes. King Robert nods slightly, his eyes far off but still staring at her with such an intensity that she could barely handle it but nevertheless continues, "If only I were present during your arrival, Your Grace. I had unfortunately fallen ill during that time. I hope to have not offended you with my lack of graces."

"Nonsense!" Robert exclaims, clasping a firm and on her father's shoulder as he gifts her a large smile. He makes his way further towards her and snatches her hand abruptly, shocking both herself and her father when he plants a large, wet kiss upon her knuckles. He continues to speak though this time his voice is thick with dissatisfaction, "It is saddening to hear you will not be joining Ned and your sisters to King's Landing."

"If I could, Your Grace...I would, but sadly I cannot. My brothers, I cannot leave them in their time of need. Especially my youngest brother, Rickon. And my mother, I am more of use to them here than I am in King's Landing." Lysara states softly, she averts her eyes to the ground in hopes he could move on so she could speak with her father but he doesn't and speaks once more. My family needs a worshipper of light in the dark times to come.

"You will always be welcome in King's Landing-Perhaps when your dear brother wakes up, you shall change your mind. It is a sight to behold in the Red Keep, I am sure there will be many things to keep your interest. Such as the library, they have many works on myths, legends and of your religion." Robert voices, his words sweet as wine and she immediately caught on. "There is plenty of finery. There are many tournaments and feasts, enough to keep you busy. I could even take you hunting. And I know of a following of that God of yours, they reside within Flea Bottom. Perhaps you will meet them..."

He all but fawns over her, he was making many attempts to have her join him. She knows this. Offering her many tempting things to attract her towards him, to gain her fancy. Unfortunately, she knows that if you strip away all the finery, the silks, the golds and titles. What do you have left? This. A world full of deceit, cunning, trickery and darkness. Lysara couldn't help but feel overwhelmed as he became relentless in his offers, showering her with unwanted attention.

Lysara's downcast eyes flicker up to meet his own and she regrets doing so. There he stands, closer than she is comfortable with, watching her as if she were the last lemon cake on the tray. She stills, unable to speak or think. Lysara nods slowly, giving him a small smile though when she does let her lips form into a smile, she can't read his expression but it changes rapidly when she does.

"I thank you, my King," Lysara says calmly, her voice cool and collected. "Your offer is like no other and I will consider it. In time."

"If you wish to leave the morrow, let me know." King Robert replies, his voice strained and deep. "Or if you wish to come later. Write."

"Trust me, Your Majesty-" She begins. "You will be the first to know."

And with that he takes her hand once more, kissing her knuckles. Robert takes a step back and this allows her to look over his large shoulder to look towards her father. He has an expression that is unreadable but as she peers into his eyes, she can see the dark look he is giving the King. The Stag King seemed to notice this as well, shifting slightly on his feet and raises his chin.

Multiple, Lysara remarks to herself and watches as he folds his arms across his chest. The King left before she could fully take everything that has happened in and briefly thanked R'hllor that nothing other than that happened. Though it dawned on her as to why he gave her such longing looks. Lyanna. Lysara knew full well about the love King Robert held for her father's dead sister.

He fought to get her back, but he lost her anyway.

"Lysara. What is it that you need? Is it about your mother or brother? Is Arya alright?" He asks, his voice stiff and tense. Unnatural, she thinks.

"I wish to speak of you about King's Landing-" She starts, her voice filled with hesitancy. "I wish to speak to you about my sisters."

Her father's face softens immensely and he nods for her to come closer. She has never been more frightened of what is to come than she is now, and now that her father and sisters will journey to King's Landing, into the den of liars and lions with serpent tongues, she fears for them. Lysara has become so frightened that every waking moment when the thought creeps up on her, her heart aches and leaps with terror.

"I'm not leaving until the morrow morn, Lysara. There is no need to say goodbye until then." Ned says but she shakes her head, her breath hitching.

"Be careful, father," Lysara warns, grasping at his arm. "You have to be careful. I may not be able to change your mind about leaving but heed this warning. You aren't like me father, you are too trustworthy. Loyalty to that man will be the end of you. Loyalty will kill you. You have to trust no one but yourself, father. Please."

"Lysara. Do not worry about me, I-" Her father begins but is interrupted as Maester Luwin approaches.

"My Lord, Lady Stark requests your presence in Bran's chambers." Maester Luwin explains as her father gives a short and curt nod.

"We will speak later, Lysara. I promise." He vows tears couldn't help but rise in her eyes as he walks along the stone path and disappears into the castle.

"What is troubling you?" Maester Luwin inquires softly, his attention focused on her.

Lysara's breath hitches as she grasps at her chest, finding it difficult to breathe despite feeling her chest rise and fall. Maester Luwin makes his way for her and lays a gentle hand on her shoulder as all she could do was gasp, her throat tightened as more tears fall from her eyes. She thinks of everything that has happened so far since the arrival of the Royals, particularly the Lannister twins and Joffrey. She couldn't help but let out a small sob, unable to regain her breath.

"What's wrong, Lysara?" Maester Luwin asks, concern evident in both his face and voice.

"I…I can't breathe…" Lysara rasps out in panic, before collapsing to her knees just as Maester Luwin catches her.

"My brother will never walk again."

Lysara stares intently at the man, the only sound in the chambers came from the crackling fire. She had long since recovered from what had happened in the yard and felt ridiculous, having acted like a girl rather than a woman. She clasped her hands tightly together resting them over her thighs as she emerged from the shadows. He looked at her over his shoulder and his smirk widened as he turned to face her fully.

"Pray tell, do you think of this as humorous? Lannister." Lysara asked impassively, her face blank and her eyes cold as ice.

"Yes, I do." The Kingslayer said as he prowled towards her a smug grin settling on his features. "I don't appreciate whores in my chambers. Leave."

Her eyes went ablaze then, as she had enough of the Lannister's taunts. Anger consumed her and when he grew near enough within her arm length, a sharp crack sounded, the noise echoing throughout his chambers. Ser Jaime's head was thrown to the side with the force of her hand, his lion's mane flew with him. He stood still for a moment and she pondered if she had stunned him with her slap. Lysara could sense his own anger brewing now and she scoffed at it.

"My brother," Lysara said stiffly, her tone pained as he regained his composure. "You took his dreams. He wanted to be a knight. You took his legs and nearly his life, and for what? So that you could fuck that whore you call a sister? Tell me, are you making another bastard son or daughter for the Queen and King?"

Slowly his eyes met her own, all traces of his grin and the smugness that he bore gone. His mouth pressed into a thin line. Lysara's face remained impassive, she would not feel threatened nor fear him easily as everyone else does. He took a few more steps forward, stalking towards her like a lion would do its prey until he was inches from her and leant down slightly to stare at her. While she was taller than most men, he was easily a few inches taller than herself.

"How do you know of such things?" Jaime crooned, his voice mocking. "You know nothing."

"I do know some things," Lysara responds calmly, her hateful grey eyes never leaving his malicious green. "And this, this I do know. You forget, Lannister. I am a worshipper of R'hllor, the Lord of Light and he does not take kindly to his worshippers being threatened. Nor do I. I know that you pushed my brother from the tower. I saw you. I saw your shadow."

"You should watch your tongue, my Lady." The blond man begins, his tone threatening. "You never know who may be listening. Some may think you are whoring yourself to me as of this moment. You are in my chambers after all. And I know of your secret as well, Red Priestess. Jory Cassel. The boy has probably pined after you from the moment you spread your legs for him. Tell me, how does it feel knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger?...or do you actually care for him, let's see about that when I drive a dagger into him...see how much you care then."

"Do not threaten me, Kingslayer." Lysara laughed coldly, though her laughter held no humour to it. "What shall you do? Shall you throw me from a window as well? Or is it just little boys? I have seen your death! And of your children. Gold their crowns, gold their shrouds. And let us not forget your sister Cersei, the Valonqar shall wrap his hands around her neck and choke the life from her. I have seen it all."

Lysara stared at him coolly but was caught mildly by surprise when without any warning or inclination he had her against the door, his hand ghosting over her throat as the other hand slammed next to her face. Lysara remained calm, though, as she stared intently into his steely green eyes. His eyes hesitantly left hers when the candles around the room flickered with life, shadows dancing around the chambers before he turned back to face her with a hidden expression.

"You will pay for this, Jaime Lannister," Lysara said icily, the red in her necklace briefly glowing. "The Lord of Light opposes all who worship false Gods."

"You like to think you are untouchable, don't you?"Jaime inquired, cocking his head to the side as he peered down at her with narrowed eyes. "The Red Priestess of the North. Noble Ned's daughter. Take all those fancy titles away and what are you? You are nothing but a whore who dresses in red." His voice was light as he squeezed her neck gently, he did not cut off her air but it was enough to get his warning across. He would kill her if she made any noise. "You are nothing more than a pretty whore with a title and a dead religion. Yet, you come into my chambers and threaten me. You Stark's are all the same. You remind me of your dead uncle Brandon, he made a threat all too similar to the Mad King...look where he is now. Tell me, how do you suppose I will pay?"

"Do you honestly think you will not pay for your sins? You tried to kill my brother…but guess what-" Lysara chuckled darkly, though her voice began to wheeze as he clenched his hand tighter around her throat. She lay a hand on the arm that gripped her neck, staring deep into his eyes. "He will wake. It is true. He is dwelling more and more in our realm each day until one day his eyes will be reopened and he will remember. I know he will. My family may not do anything about you lions, but I will."

"You are a manipulative whore." Jaime seethed. "You knew this would happen. You know of our fate."

"I do not know of fate. I only know of destiny. And only we can control it." Lysara states firmly, though her voice drifted off into a solemn one. "It is a lonely life, to dream of the future untold. To be more powerful than any other you know and you have to live like a shadow because of it. To be a Red Priestess…and you have to pretend to be insane. One day, when the world is ruins and the realm bleeds and the throne is broken. You will recall these past events, you will look upon our meeting and the Lannister pride that you have so greatly will crumble, then you will have nothing...when fire and ice meet...your house will be nothing, your name will be nothing, you will be nothing..."

Swiftly she took his slackening hand from her neck and placed it down to his side. No further words were said between them as she lightly placed a necklace with a ruby dangling on it in his hand, making him clench his fist around it. Lysara pushed him aside, making room to open the chamber door and with a swish of her red cloak, made her way slowly down the hall. It seemed that Ser Jaime made no move to kill her like she had seen him do so in her dreams. I was meant to die tonight, Lysara thinks to herself with a hum as her hand's clasp behind her back when she strolls down the hall.

It seems we do control our destiny, after all, Lysara hums to herself as she makes her way to her chambers.

Author's Note: Hi! I'd like to thank all of you for reading my story, for putting it as one of your favourites and for following it. I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed. And hopefully these chapters don't disappoint. If you have any questions feel free to ask and I'll happily answer them.

Reviews-

JimmyHall24: Thank you, I'm glad you think so. To be honest I've always wanted to read about a sarcastic and sassy, back stabbing oc from Hightower that trolls some of the characters. I think it would be an awesome read.

jno: Thank you! Hopefully you like these chapters!

Guest 1: Thank you! I'm glad you like my story!

Guest 2: Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked the ending. Unfortunately for Lysara, she is going to stay in Winterfell. I wanted to make it a bit different instead of her going down the King's Landing route.

Guest D: Thank you, that means a lot to me. Hopefully these two chapters don't disappoint. I'm glad you like Lysara's strength and personality, I'd like to thank I made her a well rounded oc.

fallondyson: Hopefully you like these two chapters!