The North
Lysara Stark
Lysara was dreaming that she was in Winterfell for the first time in a long time, she knew she was dreaming as shortly before she went to sleep, they were camped in the woods just beneath a great hill and they were so close to the Wall. The Wall was massive, the tallest she has ever seen but nothing good came from it. All it did was make her shudder. She and Rickon were huddled by the fire, telling stories to him and singing the softest of lullabies to ease him into a gentle sleep.
This was her Winterfell. It was snowing and she remembers it for how it once was giving her a sad longing for her home, oh how sweet it would be to get one more chance to see her family together, whole and safe and alive. The walls were tall and grey like she remembered, the beautiful grey and white Stark banners howling in the wind as they hit against the walls and she inhaled deeply, smelling the burning of the hearths and listening to the sound of children laughing. The horses in the stables made a noise that brought her comfort but nothing brought her more comfort than the sounds of the wolves howling softly.
I am Lysara of House Stark, of Winterfell, she thinks to herself. This is my home and no one can take it from me nor my family. It does not belong to dead men nor drowned men. Nor flayed men. It belongs to those with the name of Stark.
Lysara let her eyes flutter close, enjoying the sounds that made her feel safe and took her back to her childhood from the clashing of metal to the loud voices to the wind. Her grey eyes reopened and she was met with Robb. A smile softly appeared on her face. He still looked the same as he once was, before he left to fight a war that he did not deserve to fight. A boy that had to harden into a man. A young wolf. The flakes of snow that fell decorated his unruly auburn locks and made his hair grow wet.
"Lysara," Robb breathes, a fond smile appearing on his face and he takes a step towards her but he abruptly stops, his smile fading and his skin turned deathly pale. her smile fled from her face when she noticed blood slowly trickle from his body and onto the snow below him. "Lysara..."
"Robb..." Lysara trails off, her brows furrowing as she takes a step towards him. "Robb?"
"Mother..." He says, his eyes far away. "...Grey Wind..."
"Robb!" Lysara yells, startled when arrows fly passed her and he drops to his knees and then slumps to the ground, blood painting the snow red around his corpse. "Robb!"
No! Lysara thinks to herself and spins around taking in the castle, suddenly finding Winterfell empty and filled with darkness and despair. The three eyed crow flies over her head and lands at the snow where the blood of her brother was and hesitantly, she takes a few steps towards it, cocking her head to the side before she stills and looks down at the blood. A crimson dragon with three heads.
Targaryen, she thought to herself before her eyes landed back on the crow who tilts its head towards her before opening its ominous black wings and flies away. It's caws calling her to follow. A Targaryen in Winterfell? I do not understand, R'hllor. How so? It must be a Stark to rule Winterfell, I broke an ancient oath leaving Winterfell with my brothers. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell and we did not keep our promise...now they are coming and it is all my fault.
Lysara made steps towards the very place she did not desire to go, each step she took was agonising as her boots were soaked and made her toes grow numb from the cold and her body shudders intensely in the chilling cold, she wraps her red cloak around her and stared into the darkness. Lysara was afraid, so afraid but she knew that she must follow the crow. The ruby in her necklace glowed dimly and she clutched it, murmuring prayers under her breath as she finds herself entering the crypts of Winterfell. It is dark inside and there is nothing welcoming to her. Her brothers and sisters were welcomed but she was not, all she felt was hostility and hatred. The dark, she was always so afraid of the dark and it terrified her to walk down those steep and spiralled steps.
What will be awaiting me? Lysara asked herself and wills for the Lord of Light to guide her.
Lysara makes her way down the steps ever so slowly, so slowly while she keeps her hand against the walls and feels her way down. The torches had been put out and she could not bring herself to will them to light, she was afraid of what she might encounter once in the crypts. The burial ground of her ancestors. It grows darker and darker and she wonders if this is what the Long Night will look like. A nothingness just darkness. The staircase spirals down and her racing heart slows when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.
"Lyanna," A voice calls to her and she turns around, peering into the darkness. "Lyanna."
"Father?" Lysara questioned shakily, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Father, I cannot see you. Is that you?"
"I kept my promise, Lyanna," Her father murmurs. "I kept it by the Gods I did. I will tell him someday...I will make sure he knows how much you loved him. I promise."
Lysara was startled awake and was meant with nothing but silence, her tired eyes were about to close once more as she pulled Shaggy Dog closer to her body for comfort as Rickon slept beside Brandon and Hodor until she caught something in the corner of her eye. In the shadows of the trees she caught movement, it was quick but she caught it. It reminded her of the monsters she used to believe resided in the darkness and her mind wandered.
It did not dawn on her until she let out a small, heavy breath that she had stopped breathing and instead focused on the movement, too aware of the terrifying silence. Her heart thunders in her chest and she could feel her throat start to close and dry as she focuses on the figure. Her hand drifts down towards her sleeve ever so slowly and slides out the dagger she had kept hidden and holds it up to her chest, her eyes fixated on the tree in front of her.
It was not until she hears their footsteps that she lets her eyes close gently and listens intently to the breaking of twigs beneath their feet...until it fell silent. Where are they? Lysara thinks, managing to keep her grip on the handle of the dagger. It is not until she feels a body kneel beside her that she forces herself upwards, hoping to take them by surprise and bring the dagger down. However, the attacker merely jumps on her, startling Shaggy Dog awake.
"Osha-" Lysara screams as Shaggy Dog begins to circle them and snarls fiercely, his jaws snapping and his teeth gnash together.
Lysara finds herself screaming once more but this time, a cloth is shoved into her mouth, causing her to gag and choke. The dagger is harshly taken from her hold and that is when she raises her knee sharply, causing the attacker to let out a grunt and curse of pain as they stumble back. She moves from underneath him and crawls backwards, using her hands and feet to propel herself away from them but it so dark she does not get a proper look but going by the mere strength and stature of them, she assumes it is a heavily furred man. She roughly pulls out the piece of cloth from her mouth and looks up at the man as he stands and arrogantly strides towards her as she scrambles back. The growls of Shaggy Dog grow louder but the man merely turns his head and hisses at him before turning back to her.
"You are one of those red folk, are you not? Mag the Mighty says so," The man says, a look of wonder appearing on his face. His accent was strange, he sounded younger than he looked. Lysara did not know who this 'Mag the Mighty' was but she assumed that he was a leader of sorts. As the man grows closer, she sees that he has red fiery hair that reaches his shoulders along with scruffy and unkempt beard, his hair was like the flames she worships so dearly. "A Red Priestess? I haven't heard much of your sorts...but I know you can do and see things. I know you can save our people from the dead that are rising."
"You have come far," Lysara notes. "What is it that you seek? If it is life you want, you will not get it here. You must go where summer always resides."
"I think you and I both know that you already know what I seek...My people seek you," The nameless Wildling man replies, ignoring the direwolf's vicious growls and she prays to R'hllor that his creature of freedom attacks this man soon. "Do not worry, bower to flames. You are in the safest of hands, I can assure you."
Lysara watches as he steps closer with his hand outstretched, she stares at his gloved hand warily before placing her own hand in his. The red haired man brings her abruptly to her feet but before she could shout for Shaggy Dog or Osha, he brings his down and collides his head with her own. Lysara's ears start to ring loudly, like little bells were dangling next to her ears as her vision began to grow darker and soon enough, she was slumped in his hold, having lost herself to the darkness. The last thing she saw was curious green eyes staring down at her.
Mance Rayder
It was the dead of night and most of his people were asleep but he was not. The dead do not sleep and neither would he, not until he got what was promised to him, to his people. Mance Rayder stared at the high wall made of ice and played a note or two on his lute softly, staring across at his sleeping and heavily pregnant wife before he stood up from his seat and walked towards the small fire in their tent that was dimming and kicked more wood shavings into it, reigniting the flames and watched in amusement as they danced. The silence brought little comfort to him, his life was always filled with music but it also meant that the crows of the Night Watch were not making any attempt to attack them. He remembered the giant, Mag the Mighty and the giant sang only one song. The giant that spoke very little Common Tongue spoke two words to him and those two words would defend his people against the army of the dead.
Lysara Stark.
The name Stark was not a name to be taken lightly, the name was as ancient as the First Men and he knew of the dangerous game he was playing, taking the daughter of a Stark and bringing them beyond the Wall. It has been done before and for the sake of his people, he would have it done again. It pleased him knowing that Daramyr would not have to travel far as he received a word here and there that Lysara Stark was travelling to the Wall. To Jon Snow. It is the hair, Mance remarks to himself. To possess hair of fire is luck.
It was true, he was putting his faith in this Lysara Stark and he had not even met her but he has heard the stories. All who reside in the North have heard of the stories about the alluring Stark Priestess with eyes of ice and crimson clothing. He has heard of many stories throughout the years about the girl and what she was capable of and he was impressed. The girl is flesh made of fire, his wife's sister Val had whispered. And fire is power. It destroys the White Walkers. It was not her ability to see the future that he was interested in, it was her fire. His folk had not heard much about the likes of the Lord of Light but one story they told him amused him. It is said that those who wear red have made love to the flames and came out unburnt.
"You should not worry, my beloved," Dalla murmured, causing him to turn and face her with a raised brow. "The Red Lady shall be within our grasp soon enough. You have not laid down to rest yet, come sleep."
"I cannot," Mance replied, walking towards his wife. "I must be able to welcome her. If I do not, we will have lost her favour and she will not help us like we so desire for her to do so."
"You expect too much of the wearer of red," His wife told him, sitting up from beneath the furs with a small smirk. "The girl is a child, what can a mere child do to defend us against the army of the dead? Our fiercest warriors cannot defend themselves once the White Walkers approach, what makes you think that a little girl can do what we cannot? If she does not deliver, our people will rip her apart, that I can assure you of and then they will come after the person that led them to believe that such a girl could save them and that man is you. It would pain me to see you dead, husband."
"A daughter of flame," He said. "The song was sung when the skies began to bleed red. You heard it. I heard it. Our people heard it."
"We can use her," The blonde haired woman he loved advised. "Jon Snow. A crow he may be but I know he will do anything to get his hands on a precious thing of his. As of now, Daramyr is no doubt dragging her to us and once she is beyond the Wall...we can let them know. The Red Lady is Jon Snow's sister. It can benefit us if we have her in our hold. We may be able to get across the Wall if he and his crows knew that we had a Stark in our midst."
"We do not know her," Mance informed her. "What if she is dangerous? A woman of fire..."
"My love..." Dalla said, snuffing out a candle next to her. "The woman of fire can be extinguished."
"The last time a she wolf of Winterfell made it across the Wall," He mused quietly. "The whole of Westeros was shaking from fear of what the Stark men would do to us."
With a grunt, he let his lute rest on the nearby table, glancing at Dalla before he started to make his way out of his warm hut and trekked through the freshly fallen snow, staring up at the Wall that was far off in the distance and prayed that Daramyr, that one of his own folk made it back with the girl of fire. If he was to gain the girl's trust, he prayed that Daramyr did not harm her to make them seem untrustworthy. The man of about ten and nine years perhaps twenty was a rough and smug fool but no one could match his hunting and tracking skills. His skills were unmatched and by dawn, the girl will be beyond the Wall and in their hold.
Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked this chapter and I am sorry it took a bit long to update. I was three or four chapters ahead and was going to upload them when I sort of didn't like where it was planning out and suffered a little bit of writer's block but then I redid the chapters I had written when I got another idea on how I was going to get Lysara beyond the Wall because I didn't really like the initial idea I had, so she will be separated from her brothers for a bit and will be experiencing everything beyond the Wall from the people to the creatures. I would like to give massive thanks to everyone that has made this story one of their favourites, followed it and of course, left a review. It means a lot to me! If you have any questions, involving Lysara or this chapter or any other chapter, feel free to ask.
Reviews-
ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I hope you like this update. I had The Dragon Born on a small hiatus due to going down a different road with it and having to change a lot of the story line for chapters that I wanted to upload but a new chapter will be up soon!
RHatch89: Thank you!
Saint River: I always like to slip a bit of what happened during her childhood in it here and there and getting called that was a frequent part of it. I am not entirely sure if people who worship the Lord of Light are fireproof but I read that some of them can summon and control fire at their own will so I came to a conclusion that they were, in a way and to a certain extent immune to fire and I hope to incorporate that soon into this story now that she will be beyond the Wall. The story can finally get rolling the way I want it to and she will reunite again with Jon soon! And that also means that she and Melisandre will meet in further chapters.
Guest 1: Thank you, there will be definitely more continuity and consistency when it comes to her powers especially when she is beyond the Wall, I think...if I remember right, Melisandre said something along the lines that she felt more powerful at the Wall.
Guest 2: I'm glad you like it, they will meet sometime in the future but until then they will have dreams!
Guest 3: Thank you, I hope you liked this chapter, this is the chapter when the plot truly starts to thicken and stir even more than it has! I'm glad you are excited and they will meet soon, though I haven't included him in his chapter, he will be appearing in some of the chapters to come here and there, like a surprise pov. Lysara has lost a lot of people in a short span of time and she forgets along with a lot of other people, that she is just a teenager and would be frightened like anyone would be in her situation and I hope I have given a lot of characteristics to Lysara that is relatable in a way. You are completely right in think that Lysara holds a grudge for a long time and she will continue to hold and can hold grudges for a very long time!
EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURE: Gracias, me alegro que te guste esta historia!
Guest 4: I hope you like this update, the updates will be up a lot sooner now that I have finally plotted what outcome I want for each chapter.
Fan of This: I'm sorry it took so long to update but I wanted to make sure I had this chapter and the next chapters plot set so I can update it more regularly without getting a bit of writer's block and I wanted to write this story to the best of my capability because what I never want to do is upload a chapter and not be happy with it. I'm glad you find this story pretty unique!