The North

Lysara Stark

It was the taste of blood lingering in her mouth and the night terrors that consisted of the winds of winter and the dead that marched with it, that roused her from her unsettled sleep. Lysara has not dreamt of becoming a direwolf since Lady and this time, she dreamt that she was Ghost, travelling beyond the Wall beside Jon Snow. The further they ventured to the Wall, the colder the nights grew and the darker they grew as well and in these dark, long nights she prayed for glimpses in the flames of the fire and she received more than she had asked for, she had received painful visions that left her writhing in agony. All she could do was stare into the dancing flames, waiting for the pain to shortly follow after the visions. It seemed the further they grew to the Wall, the stronger her power and faith grow. Her faith in the Lord of Light strengthened.

Darkness, Lysara thought coldly. All I see is darkness and snow.

An eerie feeling filled her and a dread caused her to stiffen as she opened her eyes but all she saw was the darkness, the same darkness that she saw in the fires. Her eyes widened as she slowly sat up from her bed of furs and her brows furrowed as she slowly rose to her feet. The Godswood? Lysara thought as she walked closer to the tree that bleeds. Lysara approached with a wariness and felt as if thousands of eyes were watching her. The wind picked up as she placed her hand on the white tree, the whispers were carried with the wind. Lysara looked around for her brother and wondered briefly if she was sharing a dream with him but behind her, she felt a darker presence that brought a chill down her spine.

"I will summon armies," The voice murmured impassively near her right ear and she spun quickly on her heel, only to meet nothing but more forestry and darkness. It seemed this voice was carried with the wind and it chilled her to the very bone, she normally was warm, her fire forever burning but as of now, she felt nothing but cold. "The Lost Hero came before you. He stood strong and tall and brave."

The man's voice cracked like ice and her pace quickened as she followed after the voice that was void of any emotion. Lysara came across more shadows, this time, they took form. A figure wielding a burning sword passed her along with another figure upon a horse. The voice quietened and her breath hitched when she saw familiar figures. Her eyes widened and she took a step back, staring at the figures that were blocking her path.

A male figure with a wolf's head in place of their own. Robb. A womanly figure with her hands covering her throat. My mother.A man that had no head but instead held it in his arms. My father.There were two more figures that stood beside them and her brow furrowed. The figure next to her brother was a lithe, willowy figure that no doubt belonged to a woman. The shadow cradled a babe in their arms and the next was a smaller figure, a child that had several arrows sticking inside of them. The figure was the same height as her youngest brother, Rickon. It cannot be my brother Rickon,Lysara thinks to herself. He lives. I breathed fire into his lungs and gifted him life.

"I stole his dreams away," The voice mocked tauntingly and she sneered, her lips pursing as she turned once more to face the voice. "Now I have you standing before me...a woman of fire...forged from flame...all alone in the woods with nothing but the snow below her...and the darkness above her..."

Lysara turned around once more, the voice closer than it ever has been and her eyes widened when she saw the figure approaching her. Her bottom lip began to tremble in sheer terror from the figure that approached her and this time, this time, no one will be able to save her. A hint of a smirk appears on their face, their bright blue eyes focusing intently on her as she picks up her skirts and turns to run only to come face to face with the army of the undead.

"This...this cannot be..." Lysara breathes quietly. R'hllor protect me, she prayed.

Lysara turns abruptly back only to find the Night's King standing right behind her. She recoils, wincing when his icy blue eyes bore into her own and as she takes a step back, the Night's King snatches her by the neck and raises her from the ground. His face was impassive and he remained silent as he began to choke the very life from her.

The pain at her neck was made worse by a sudden burning she felt, it felt as if her entire being was protesting against his touch. Lysara clawed meekly at the Night's King but to no avail, his grip only tightened and his eyes seemed to hold some for of sick pleasure in taking her life. She could see her vision darken and in pure instinct, she reached out with her hands and clawed at his own hands. As her vision faded and her ears began to ring, she smelt smoke and it was followed by a horrifying scream. It was inhumane. It sounded like ice cracking below their feet, like winter itself crying. Her last coherent thought as she was dropped harshly to the ground was a powerful sensation as the darkness claimed her, the last thing she heard was the sound of ice and the smell of fire.

"Lysara!"

She sat up with a gasp, her hands wrapped tightly around her throat and looked around vigorously, scrambling back until her back hit a tree. It took her a few moments to realise that she was safe. For now, Lysara added to herself as her eyes landed on a large fire that was burning beside her. The night is dark and filled with terrors, Lysara thought as she stared deeply into the fire. And those terrors are coming for us. Her eyes landed on Osha, who was the person to call her name. She clutched her chest, her heart thundering as she looked around, taking note of her surroundings. Her little brother, Rickon was playing with Shaggydog and Hodor was stumbling after them. Brandon and Jojen were conversing in hushed voices, every so often throwing sticks into the fire to strengthen.

Lysara wiped the sweat that was beaded on her forehead and raised her brow at the tension she felt between the Reed girl and the Wildling woman. Meera was sat nearby a pine tree and was skinning a rabbit that she had shot earlier and it appeared Osha was doing the same. Osha kept throwing smug glances at the Reed girl causing her to sit further up and she cocked her head to the side, listening to the battle of words between both Meera and Osha. Lysara felt a weight on her legs and looked down to see Summer, lying across her knees. She lay a hand on his fur and caressed neck as he huffed lightly at her before closing his eyes, settling down to sleep once more.

"Like I said," Osha began, there was no kindness present in her voice as she told her. "This is how you skin a rabbit. You are doing it wrong."

"I think you will find that I know how to skin a rabbit," The girl said with narrowed eyes.

"I don't think so," Osha continued, a smirk appearing on her face. Lysara eyed the older woman and she arched her brow to see that the woman indeed had more experience and better skill when it came to skinning animals. She watched in fascination as the woman stripped the skin of the rabbit with little to no effort. The woman that had slowly became her companion seemed almost smug and was priding herself on the fact that she seemed to be better than Meera at this particular skill. Osha tied the meat and raised it above the fire, letting it cook for their sup. "I learned how to skin a rabbit before I could walk and talk. You'd learned the same way as I had you been born beyond the Wall. We are bred from winter. We do not live, we survive. Can the same be said for you, little frog girl? If I had my bow instead of a stick, I could have shot a dozen rabbits."

"It seems you are not taught how to make your own weapons beyond the Wall," Meera scoffed. It seemed the girl was struggling to keep calm. "I made my bow."

"We fight with our fists," Osha responded, her eyes narrowing towards the girl.

"Yes!" Meera proclaimed, rolling her eyes. "We will get so far with doing things your way now, won't we?"

"Enough," Lysara spoke up calmly and shifted the direwolf lying next to her as she rose to her feet, letting the skirts of her red dress fall to the ground in silken waves. She stepped closer to the fire and knelt by its side, eyeing the dance of fire with intensity. All she could think of was how she looked death and winter in the eye. This fight between them mattered little to her as of now. "We have a more pressing matter to deal with than who skins rabbits better. Have you not both successfully skinned the beast? If so, end this feud. You both are good enough. I do not wish to hear this discussion again."

"You are both good at skinning rabbits," Bran voiced, trying to ease the tension.

"Lady Red...Little Lord...I like to think that some are better at skinning rabbits than others," Osha spits.

"And I think others should say a thank you to some people who hunt their meat for them whilst the others gather mere berries and herbs," Meera snaps, despite her brother's soft interjections. She looks up from the flames and faces Meera, feeling Osha bristle near her. Her grey eyes meet the blue of her brother's and it seems they both feel the same tension in the air that was rapidly rising. "I am beginning to think they do not teach common courtesy to those beyond the Wall. A little 'thank you' would suffice."

"I said enough!" Lysara seethes, the fire roaring as she stands abruptly up alongside Meera and Osha. "I will have no more of this."

"I want you both to stop this!" Her brother cries. "The three of you have been at it since the day we met! I want this to stop!"

"You include me in their petty argument about a rabbit? I am taking sides with neither of them about this," Lysara demands before she directs her attention to the Reed's. "I do not trust them. I never have nor will I ever trust them. Is it not rather convenient and coincidental that we met them at our most vulnerable? I have dreamt about what will happen to you, to us and it is all because of them taking us beyond the Wall. The world needs Jon Snow and I intend to find him before it is too late. I believe in many things, I believe in the power of R'hllor and I also believe in him. We will go to Castle Black and once we have, I cannot decide your fate for you, my winged wolf."

It all fell silent then as she fell to her knees once more and closed her eyes, clasping her hands together and raised them to her chin, praying for more light and less darkness. All her life she was afraid of the dark, as childish as the fear was. It was more of what was lurking within the darkness she was afraid of rather than the darkness itself. It also brought a memory back to her, in times of darkness before she had found the Lord of Light, she always fled to Jon's chambers before her mother and father's chambers. Jon Snow always made her feel safe. Lysara always dreamt of him, protecting from the wights in her dreams and brandishing his sword of flame. He is the bringer of light, Lysara convinces herself. It did not matter if it were a hopeless or lost cause. He must be the Prince who was Promised. He must be.

"You were screaming again," Meera commented drawing her from her thoughts causing her hollow, downcast eyes to look up into the eyes of the girl. Her brows furrowed slightly and her lips parted to interrupted the girl but the girl continued, "You always scream in your sleep. It grows most disturbing...Tell me, where is your Red God when you have those night terrors? Show me. I wish to know, will he save you when we go beyond the Wall? Will he save you when we encounter those things that my brother dreams of? Where is your god?"

"Inside of her," Jojen told his sister causing her brows to furrow. "The fire burns within the unburnt woman."

"The war that our brother fights..." Lysara spoke up, her eyes staring intently into the flame as she stared at the dancing fire and the shadows in pain. "The games that they play. It means nothing to them. It means nothing to the winter that is coming. When the cold winds of winter arrive, when the lions no longer roar, when the roses no longer bloom and the stags no longer graze the meadow...when the dragons cannot warm you...only snow and wolves will remain. I often wonder...what will happen when our Lord does not answer our songs? I have dreamt of a night that will go on forever. It is so dark and I am terrified for us. Have I ever told you about the true war?" Lysara inquired, looking towards her younger brother. "The war of light and darkness?"

"Our mother wouldn't let you," Bran pointed out to her. "I remember what she said to you that day when you told us stories. You horrible, red girl, our mother screamed at you."

"Of course," Lysara said softly, a hint of a smile on her face but flames burned behind her eyes. "I remember well."

"I want to know," Her brother demanded and sat up further. "Please."

"You will come to know many things, my wolf with wings," Lysara muses in a hushed voice. The fire crackles softly beside her as she begins to tell her tale. "I care not for any war that men may wage against each other. I care not for the crown or the throne of iron that will come to burn. I care only for the war between light and darkness. The true war we will face is between life and death...and should we die...the entire world will die with us. You do not know nor understand what it is like...to constantly hear them scream..." Her breath hitches then when the flames take form. "...All those people that will die at the hands of winter. I hear them cry for their false Gods, for their mothers and for mercy that will never be given to them...the dead do not know of such kindness...do you not hear them, little wolf? They once roared at me...now they whisper. All they do is whisper."

"Mother said that those were just stories," Bran informed her. "She said that the White Walkers were just a terrifying tale...they are real...aren't they?"

"Aye. Although we may be the enemies of lions, flayed men, Krakens and dragons...we will all come to face our true enemy soon. We will soon face the demons that are made of ice and snow," She told him coldly. "The winds of winter breathed life into the undead and made them rise once more. They are the only enemy that matters.

"Why the Wall, Red Lady?" Osha inquires. "Of all places, why the Wall? Why must you go to this Jon Snow? Why not your mother and brother in the Riverlands? Or someplace warm? You and I both know that the dead are coming. I witnessed them first hand."

"Heroes are no more. The heroes you here from stories died a long time ago," Lysara told them. "I look to the flames and all I see is snow."

An air of melancholy surrounded her then and she could not help but wonder why, the truth she spoke was not sorrowful, it was frightening. The happy cries of her younger brother filled the air once more and she looked up, catching sight of her brother running beside Shaggy Dog as Hodor stomped ungracefully after them. It brought a solemn, small smile to her lips as she stared at her brother before her attention was brought back to the large fire that burned bright and lit up the darkening world around her in an eerie glow that felt almost calming to her.

Lysara let her eyes flutter close and she began to continue her pray, seeking guidance but opened them once more to meet the seductive dance of the flame that she was tempted to touch and caress. The flames were always such a beautiful yet dangerous sight to behold. The burning gold and scarlet danced together, casting shadows as they took the form of strange shapes. The fire had entranced her and she slowly reached further out with a pale hand to let the flame consume her skin, another hand batted her own roughly and she blinked, looking up to see Osha, staring at her with wary eyes.

"I wouldn't go about doing that girl," Osha warned her, scolding her as if she were some mere child. "The fire will burn you."

The flames crackled softly as if in disagreement with the woman. No, Lysara protested to herself as she watched the wild woman retreat away from her and eyed her as she went back to skinning another animal before she found the fire too enticing to look away from. The fire was beautiful and warm. The flames will not harm me. I am flame. I am fire and fire is power, Lysara thought to herself. Her eyes trailed back to fire then and with their crackling came a whisper, a whisper of a name.

"Jon Snow," Lysara murmured.

Author's Note: Hey guys, hopefully you like this chapter. A lot of clues about further chapters are in this chapter because from this chapter onward, things will start to get very interesting when they reach the Wall. I would like to thank everyone who has made this one of their favourites, who has followed this story and I would also like to give a massive thanks to everyone who has left a review.

Reviews-

RHatch89: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Hopefully you like this chapter.

Saint River: Lady Catelyn seeing the three eyed crow is up for interpretation. I'm glad you liked Jon, Catelyn and Robb's side of things, there will be more pov's soon involving them. I will be involving some pov's here and there that will give you more of an insight on what the Northern Houses think and I will be involving some of Lysara's commentary on things that have happened in her life involving betrothals that failed between her and other houses. You may get a sneak peek of Ramsay in further chapters. I love the lore to do with beyond the Wall and I will be involving a lot of the lore to do with giants, especially the Others and the Children. You might get to see a sight like that in further chapters as there will be a separation. The next update should be up soon now that I have let the plot settle down a bit.

ATP: Unfortunately, Robb and Lady Catelyn will die like they did in the canon and the events of the Red Wedding will still happen because for this story, the story will be focused primarily beyond the Wall. Lysara will kill again although I won't add who and why just yet.

kksambo: I am still a bit indecisive about various things because if I knew the full plot of my story, I would get bored of writing it and every time I go to write a new chapter, I end up getting newer and better ideas than the ones I originally had. I feel like Lysara's anger wasn't forced at all or was unnecessary drama, she has plenty of reasons to dislike them even though to most people, they would find her reasoning strange. Lysara is a rather flawed character compared to most and is rather hypocritical as she believes the Lord of Light is the one true God to worship and I agree with you when you said she is acting like her mother because she is a bit like her mother when it comes to a certain way of thinking and Lysara has gained certain characteristics from her mother. The way he has warranted her hostility is because he knows more than he is letting on and she knows that he is hiding something, something that unsettles her and the crow that has cropped up in her dreams every now and then has traumatised her since childhood and now that she knows he is involved with the crow in some way, it unsettles her. Lysara is acting as she is frightened of him in a way, she knows about the power both he and her brother possess and their powers make her question herself.

Guest: I hope you like this chapter!