The Lioness Of Winterfell [HIATUS]

Chapter 20: A New Alliance

WEEKS LATER...

LYANNA

Lyanna woke up gasping for air, disorientated and confused. She realized she was in someone's bed, alone, her dress soaked in blood. A thought crossed her mind and she felt the pain on her heart grew. Lyanna clutched her hurting chest and almost scared herself when she heard a sob. Only then she realized it was hers.

"My lady,"

Lyanna trembled, the small voice scared her. She glanced at the door, only to find a head peering into the room. However, that did not make Lyanna any quiter. It made her feel threatened.
Her hand quickly pulled her dress up, exposing the cloth wrapped around her leg where her dagger should be. But there was nothing there.

"Where is it?!" She got up.

The intruder entered the room, it was a small woman. She seemed harmless but Lyanna couldn't bring herself to trust her, to let her guard now.

"I'm here to help you. My Lord asked me to treat your wounds." She explained.

"Where am I?" Lyanna looked around. "Tell me! Where did you take me?!"

"It wasn't me-"

"Look, our guest woke up."

A man walked into the room. He had short blonde hair and his large deep blue eyes reminded her of Robb. And his mouth was turned into a beautifull smile directed right to her.
How incredibly attractive he was.

"We mean no harm, My Lady." He lifted his arms, approaching the bed. "This is Marian, she is supposed to treat your wounds."

"How do I know you are not going to hurt me?"

"If I wanted to do that, don't you think I would have done it already?" He replied.

Lyanna inclined her head, thinking.

"You have my word, My Lady."

The blackhaired girl relaxed, once again he reminded her of someone she loved, or had once loved: her father.
The man gestured to his maid, calming her and ordering her to approach the woman standing in front of them looking like she had just came from a date with death.

LORD

Asher had never seen anyone so destroyed by the war, and he was not talking about the physical damage, on the contrary, only those that were in her eyes. The girl was catatonic, staring at the foggy windows, and despite her skin exposed to the northern cold, she was not shaking, she was frozen but not cold.

"I need to know if you're comfortable, My Lady." Marian tried.

The silence remained intact. The maid was treating the exposed wounds with care and attention but the girl did not show any pain.

Asher approached them. "We've welcome you in our home. You owe us your name."

"Don't you know who I am?"

Lyanna's gaze slid to the scrawled paper on the table, a distinctive drawing on the letter, carried by the raven last week. Asher analyzed the painting, hadn't paid much attention to it yet.

Lioness Of Winterfell, it said, bring her alive to King's Landing and a life of prosperity will be given to you.

All the Houses of Westeros knew who the Lioness of Winterfell was - the daughter of Eddard Stark.

"Lyanna Stark." Asher whispered. "The North thinks you're dead."

"My name is not Stark." Her rough voice surprised him.