Lyanna had not left her new chambers in the last three days. She had had no visitors other than the spartans and other members of House Terra that had brought her food at different times of the day. Neither her father, nor her good-mother, nor anyone had come to see her, despite her asking after them daily from her captors.

She sat on her bed, without anything else to do, and rubbed her belly. The child in her womb, her and Rhaegar's precious Visenya, had been quite active over the last week, a sign that she was close to birth according to the grand maester, for all she found the man disquieting.

Taking a deep breath as the child in her womb rolled and squirmed, Lyanna thought back to the beginning of her love with Rhaegar. The silver prince of House Targaryen had been so thoughtful, consoling her over Robert's whoring ways and promising to do whatever he could to help her. They had shared letters over the next few moons, secretly of course, as Rhaegar had told her that the rest of Westeros would not look kindly on their love. Tradition and stubborn old lords would look down on them if it came to light. Lyanna had loved the secrecy of it, sharing her new engagement with the prince only with Ben. Her younger brother had been hesitant of course, especially when she told him of how the two of them would stop her marriage to her boar of a betrothed, but eventually she had managed to persuade him to aid her in evading father's eyes.

Then had come their opportunity. Brandon was getting married to Catelyn Tully, and though her brother had seemed less than enthused about the prospect of swearing loyalty to a single woman, father's words bound him. Lyanna pitied Brandon. After all, soon enough she would be free of her betrothal of politics and marry for love with a man whose status would outshine Robert's like the sun outshone a candle. She had had to plead desperately with her father to let her travel alone, with only the lightest of guards, but her father, regardless of his plans, could not seem to deny her what seemed a small breath of freedom. Once she had been far enough from Winterfell, she had escaped her guards into the Barrowlands and connected with Rhaegar and his kingsguard.

Thinking of Rhaegar, Lyanna wondered about her husband. Surely, he was not sitting idly by as she and the rest of his family were being held captive. She knew that her silver prince would rally all the realms against these strange people. Perhaps it would even bring her brother and husband together, after all, the Terras had also taken her father and Lord Glover, and surely they were prisoners as well. It was the only reason she could see as to why her father had not yet come to see her, he could not.

She could already see it, with her and father now taken prisoner, there was no longer a cause for her family to war with her beloved's. Robert could go back to the Stormlands and go back to fucking whores. He would eventually have to find someone, though Lyanna pitied the poor woman who had to become his wife and suffer his infidelity. But better someone else than her, she supposed. Soon enough all the seven kingdoms would march on Fair Isle, and no matter how mighty the Terras claimed themselves to be, they would fall under the weight of her families combined.

As she waited the day away, there was a knock at her door. Such a thing was odd. Not the knocking, the Terras, for all their presumptions of power by abducting the royal family, were at least polite enough to let her know when they were entering her rooms. No, it was strange because this was not one of the times that Lyanna had come to know meant food was being brought to her. Checking the round timepiece that was mounted on her wall, her only way of telling the time as the days passed, she saw that the time when her evening meal would be brought to her was still hours off. Hope blossomed in her chest, perhaps something had happened, and Rhaegar had already managed to subdue these people with words. She had heard that the Terras could deliver messages faster than any raven, though no one knew how, but perhaps Rhaegar had managed to find some way to do the same, and the Terras had been cowed by surely frightening fury of the crown prince.

As the door slid open, Lyanna saw that it was not any member of House Terra. Instead, her father stood in the doorway, still thin from his time in the Red Keep's dungeons, but with hair looking freshly cut and his beard shaved down, not to mention new clothes, he looked the picture of the proud Northern lord everyone in Westeros knew him to be.

"Father!"

She exclaimed, rising from her bed, more slowly than she normally would have, given her bulging belly and ran to him. Her father's face shifted as she came closer, a mixture of relief, love and distain flickered across his features, so fast that Lyanna had no time to process it before her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

"…Lyanna"

The older man's voice was still somewhat raspy, despite the last few days, and his frame was still gaunt from lack of food. No matter what though, Lyanna was happy to see her father, and now that they were together, they could speak about the future.

"Thank the old gods and the new. I feared that these people might never let me see you. Quickly, we must speak before they return, or send someone to spy on us. How should we try and escape?"

Rickard's face shifted, his brow furrowing in something close to bewilderment.

"Escape? Daughter, what must we escape from?"

His voice was calm, but also cautious, as if he were unsure of what she was speaking of. Lyanna hoped this was merely an act, perhaps to lull their captors into thinking he had no plans for freedom.

"These people. I'm sorry father, that all this happened, but now that these strange people have kidnapped us, I'm sure Ned and Rhaegar will be able to put aside their differences to rescue us."

Rickard's eyes widened.

"Rhaegar, Lyanna, have they not told you? Rhaegar will not be coming."

Lyanna was confused as she listened to her father. What had these people not told her? Either way, as soon as he told her that her husband would not be coming for her, she felt a surge of anger rise in her belly. She knew that her father had not approved of her marriage to Rhaegar, and she understood that with Brandon's execution he would not be much more inclined to listen to their reasoning. However, for him to tell her that her silver prince would not come for her, or for his Aegon, Rhaenys and the Visenya she carried in her womb, she knew that her father knew nothing of the love that she shared with her husband.

"He will come. I know it father. He won't stand for our abduction. I'm sure that even now he has sent ravens to all the seven kingdoms, likely even to Ned himself, to let them know of our kidnapping. Don't worry father. Soon, all the might of Westeros will deploy to save us."

"By the gods." Rickard muttered, staring at Lyanna as she spoke with such fire.

"The two of you, you're both mad. You truly don't see how your actions have harmed the realms?"

Lyanna regarded her father, confusion one again taking over her features.

"Harmed? I know that things haven't been perfect father but look. You wanted us to forge ties with the south, and you were even willing to sell me to that southern boar. But I found something better father. Rhaegar loves me, even more than his first wife. I found a husband out of love, one better than Robert Baratheon could ever be."

"Love?" Rickard asked. "You think he loves you? You? His second wife, held apart from the court, who he would not even leave his first wife for?"

Indignation flared in her chest. Lyanna snarled at her father.

"He loves me. He told me so. In his letters he told me how he loved me. At out wedding he pledged his heart to me, and I to him. I carry his child in my belly, our precious Visenya who will be a warrior to lead all of Westeros."

"Letters? What Letters? For how long has Rhaegar been speaking of this? Lyanna, how long has Rhaegar Targaryen whispered such poison into your ears?"

"Poison?" She yelled. "He told me the truth. He showed me how the world must be if it is to survive. Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya, the three heads of the dragon. He loves me as I am father. We spoke of horses and riding and fighting. I will teach my daughter how to fire an arrow, how to control a steed, and she will lead the realms of Westeros against the darkness."

As she spoke, Rickard's eyes widened, growing larger and larger. His daughter rambled on and on of prophesy and fate, of the girl she carried and how she would be a warrior, just as Lyanna herself wanted to be. To shake off the unjust expectations of the world she lived in and become free.

"Lyarra, what have I done?" He whispered as Lyanna's eyes drifted off and she spoke of her fated daughter.

"I've failed out daughter, left her such a length of freedom, and now she's hung herself from it."

"Lyanna." He tried to interrupt her ramblings.

"I'm sorry for Robert, I'm sure he must be disappointed, but he'll see it's for the best, he can go back to fucking any woman he wants, and he can have all the bastards he desires-"

"Lyanna!" This time he raised his voice against his daughter, gripping her shoulders and shaking her slightly as she focused on him.

"Father?" She asked, looking at him curiously.

"I… this is madness. You cannot truly believe these things. Rhaegar Targaryen used you, he has used your desires and your youth to bring you to his side, to turn you against your true family. Please, see the truth, see his madness, I implore you. It isn't too late. We can still absolve you of your part in this. Please daughter."

"Absolve me?" Lyanna looked at Rickard as if she did not recognise him. "You think Rhaegar lied to me? That he used me?"

She shook her head, pulling herself out of her father's arms and turning her back on him.

"No, no no no. Rhaegar didn't lie. He told me the truth. He showed me the darkness that will come, and he promised me that we could change it. I know it. He loves me, and he will love our Visenya, more than any of the others, more than his Aegon or Rhaenys. He loves me, he took me as his wife, against all the realm's protests, because he loves me so."

"And yet he didn't leave his first wife Lyanna. Rhaegar Targaryen is not Aegon the Conqueror."

"No." Lyanna said, tears in her eyes. "He is greater. Aegon came to Westeros with fire and blood, to force us all to kneel to him, to revere him as a one might a god. Rhaegar wants to unite us in peace, to bring us together so that we can defeat the Others when they return. He'll show you when he comes for me. You should have listened to me father when I said I didn't want to marry Robert. You should have listened. If you had, Brandon would still be here."

SLAP

Lyanna's head snapped to the side as Rickard's hand swung and struck her across her cheek. Rickard stared in open shock as Lyanna screamed her defence of Rhaegar. He saw just how Lyanna spoke, convinced of her husband's mad ramblings and repeating them as if they were a sacred gospel. He felt his heart ache for her, but more than that, he felt a rage rise as she spoke of his son.

"Do not speak of Brandon, do you hear me girl?" He snarled at her, and Lyanna turned her head back to look at him. She opened her mouth to speak again, a fiery rage to match his own in her eyes.

"Do not speak again Lyanna, if you know what is best for you. You may believe whatever you wish, I see now that Rhaegar Targaryen has corrupted you too far for you to see reason but know this. If you try and blame Brandon's death on anyone but that family you so ardently defend, those dragon spawn who took two of my children from me and waged war to claim the rest, I will cut that child from your belly myself and smother it."

Lyanna backed away from her father, her hand protectively holding her swollen stomach. For a moment, Rickard felt a sense of remorse fill him. The child, no matter her mother and father's stupidity, was not responsible for what they had done, and he would not taint his hands with the blood of his own grandchild.

"I came to speak with my daughter. To know what madness might have possessed you and hopefully to disabuse you of it, but I see now that that is a fool's hope. I will tell you this now though, on the morrow, the Lord of Terra will deliver is, as well as Lord Glover, to Ned, Robert and Jon Arryn's camp, to decide the next step in the future of Westeros."

Lyanna's face lit up when she heard her father say they would be leaving.

"You see father. I told you. Rhaegar would never let us rot here, not with his wives, children and family kidnapped. We'll be back with Ned soon, and then we can dethrone the mad king and place Rhaegar on the throne."

Rickard schooled his expression into one of stone. For all that he was glad for the death of the king and the prince, he could not bring himself to revel in the pain that the news would bring to his daughter.

"No Lyanna. Upon our arrival, we will plan for our return to the North."

"Truly? I had hoped that after the war we might be able to take a royal progress through the North. I do so miss the summer snows. I'm sure Rhaegar will love it."

"Rhaegar Targaryen will never enter the North Lyanna, he-"

"He is the prince of the Seven Kingdoms father, and I am his wife, of course he will come North. How else will my daughter come to know her cousins?"

"Rhaegar is dead Lyanna."

He watched as his daughter's eyes widened as she took in the news. She shook her head, disbelieving his words and backing away.

"No." She muttered, cradling her stomach. "He… he promised me. We would be together. Visenya, we would raise her as a warrior, we would."

As she retreated the back of her legs hit the side of her bedframe. Lyanna collapsed backwards, halfway between sitting and falling she fell onto her mattress.

"He… the prophesy. He told me that, we would live together. He loves me, he said it. I know it. He loves me, and we will raise our Visenya. We were free. We were together. We loved each other."

Rickard watched his daughter as she began to sob, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

"Rhaegar Targaryen is dead, Lyanna." Rickard repeated. "As is his father, and now the rest of his family will swear an oath to dismiss their claims to the throne, in exchange for their lives and safety. I have already given them my assurances that neither you nor your child will contest Robert's claim to the throne, and that the North will never support your bastard by Rhaegar."

"She is not a bastard." Lyanna screamed. "We wed each other before the heart tree, before the old gods."

"You claim to revere the old gods of the forest." Rickard ground his teeth together. "But you believe they would allow you to trample upon all their rites and traditions in becoming this man's second wife, while his first still lived, breathed, and was still married to the man by all the laws of gods and men."

"A southern marriage." Lyanna snarled. "A sickly Dornish doll married under a sept, without the wind or the waves of trees to witness it. You have told me all my life that the gods of the south a prim and weak, for summer boys who have never felt the cold bite of winter. We are of the North, and Rhaegar knew the darkness that was coming, we wed as men and women were meant to, and that is worth more than a thousand southern vows."

Rickard watched his daughter rage, felt her fury. To think that Lyanna could become this. The kind of woman to spit upon the lives and wills of others in order to assure her own desires and happiness.

"I truly have failed." He said, shaking his head. "Look at my folly. To have allowed all these ideas to flourish. I allowed you too much freedom, my daughter, and in doing so, I failed to impart onto you the consequences of action."

Lyanna's fury seemed to abate as he spoke.

"Father?"

"Your mother was lost so early in your life, and so I allowed you too much liberty. I let you run wild on horses, prance across the Wolfswood with Brandon. I let you play swords with Benjen. I'm sorry Lyanna. I never truly taught you what it means to be a lady, and because of that you still have not learned the necessities of our position. For that, I am sorry my daughter, and even more so, that I must now impart on you those harsh realities only after so much death has been wrought."

"What are you talking about father?"

Rickard shook his head sadly.

"I have said too much already. I was only to tell you that we were returning to Ned's side and his camp. Rest now Lyanna, on the morrow we will be amongst our own."

"Rhaegar was my own." She whispered. "I wish it was you. I wish you had died, instead of him. You want to send me back to him, but it won't work."

"Send you back to him? If you mean Robert Baratheon, no I will not. I would not force Robert to marry you after everything you've done."

"After what I've done?" She demanded. "I married a prince, better than the lord you had picked for me, and I loved him, not that boar of a man with a bastard daughter who would have never stayed true to my bed."

Rickard's face grew dark.

"And now you will never have to share his bed. Instead, you will return North and have to face those whose fathers, sons, brothers and husbands have died for your folly."

With those final words, Rickard Stark turned and left the room. Lyanna cried on her bed, staring at her father's retreating form until her door slid shut, locking her away once more until the next time it opened hours later with food.

Short chapter, but considering it's made entirely about one conversation between Rickard and Lyanna I thought it was fine. Now one of the interesting things about this story is walking the line between Lyanna being a child, manipulated by Rhaegar, and a young woman who thinks she's made the right choice and defends it. We see this kind of thing in a lot people, not just teenagers, where they make stupid decisions, but refuse to reconsider because they think they know best. I myself have done it, and I'm sure a lot of us have. However, unlike us, Lyanna's decision caused a war and the death of her brother. How do you think I did with her portrayal? Too malicious? Too idiotic? Let me know.