There was one way to describe Lyanna's time in High Garden; Lovely. She'd been there for about two months and there had been no sign of the Lannister's knowing where she was, no sign of betrayal, no sign of danger. She had never felt safer than when she was in the Reach. She had never felt safer than when she was with Willas.

Being with Lord Willas gave her a sense of security no man had done before. He saw her not for her name or her sex, but for herself. He liked spending time with her, and the two of them spent their time together going through the gardens, him telling her all about the plants and the creatures there, or sat in the library reading. They both adored reading. Willas used books to become a good Lord as his bad leg meant that he would struggle to show the strength in combat needed to be a good ruler. Lyanna joked that they were two halves of a perfect pair; her strength in fights, his knowledge of the world.

He didn't just love reading and plants, he loved birds, especially Falcons. Some afternoons he'd take her out to the aviary and show her how he'd trained his birds. With this, Lyanna realised that Rey was basically a big bird -a fire-breathing bird at that- and whilst she'd managed to train her as best she could with her direwolf training knowledge, she could get Willas to help. One evening, she asked him to go to the docks with her the next morning, where she was keeping Rey and Winter.

"This will be the biggest falcon I've ever trained," he joked, but she could still tell he was excited at the prospect.

After that, they spent nearly everyday at the docks, Willas showing Lyanna what to do to make her dragon more obedient. At first, Rey didn't trust the presence of this newcomer (unlike Winter, who sensed Lyanna's trust and greeted Willas everyday with her tail wagging) but soon, when she realised that food and treats came from him, she warmed to him. After a few days she began to land wherever Lyanna pointed, take off and come back on command.

"I'm just glad she's still small, imagine getting a dragon the size of a ship to do this," Lyanna noted one day as the two of them sat out by the docks, watching Winter hunt around for meat whilst Rey flew in and out of the sea.

"I think I'd be long dead of that was the case," Willas laughed.

"Me too," Lyanna smiled. She smiled a lot more when she was with him.

They ate together every night, even being joined by Eryk sometimes, who was starting to like Willas more. He was still mourning though, like Lyanna, though she had the therapy of Willas to get through it. Some nights they were even joined by Willas' younger brother Garlan, whenever he was around; he was a knight and often away at jousts and events. It was clear Willas loved Garlan the way Lyanna loved Jon, and she admired their brotherly bond.

Despite spending every waking hour together, Lyanna didn't realise she was falling in love. This is until one night, after she'd been telling him stories of Winterfell, and the next night he'd asked the cooks to make kidney pies with peas and onions, beef stew with parched peas, with oatmeal and treacle cakes for dessert (although he also gave her lemon cakes because of her stories of Sansa), even finding northern wine from the wine cellars. The gesture made her heart sing. He listened to her, he'd remembered what she'd said, so maybe he loved her too. Well, even if he didn't love her, and he was just a kind man, she loved him, and every second she spent with him, she felt herself falling deeper.

***

It was one morning when the two were in the library when the first disturbance of peace occurred. The two were sat by an open window, Lyanna cross-legged on the oak floor as she flicked through a book about the history of House Tyrell, whilst Willas was sat on the rich sofa above her, his bad foot perched on a stool, his cane next to him as he was immersed into one of Lyanna's favourite storybooks about the Nights Watch.

"You know, you never think about the brothers in Black when you live this far south," Willas admitted.

"It's s big part of being a northerner, since it's much closer," Lyanna shrugged. "It was for me at least, since my Uncle Benjen was a man of the Nights Watch, and my father had to execute deserters,"

"You never told me about the time he took you to watch,"

"It was like any execution, except Bran and I were there, Jon made sure we watched," Lyanna remembered. "It was a long time ago. I was sixteen, a child,"

"And eighteen isn't a child?" Willas teased. He was quite a bit older than her, and often liked to remind her of it as a joke.

"I'll be nineteen in a few weeks," she pointed out. "Circumstances make adults, not age,"

"Sometimes I wonder why you didn't want to be a philosopher instead of a Nights Watch ranger when you say things like that," he teased again.

Lyanna rolled her eyes, though caught sight of the door by the corner opening. Willas saw it too, and he reached for his cane in an attempt to pull himself up. Lyanna got up and offered him her hand to help him up, which he took, and she had to ignore the butterflies in her stomach which fluttered for a moment. As the two stood, Lyanna thought about a time when she would have drawn her sword at a door opening, and realised how much she loved the safety of High Garden that meant she only carried around her dagger.

When the door opened, it revealed an old woman, hunched slightly with age, her hair covered by an elegant blue veil, and despite her age, her eyes were sharp and when they caught sight of Willas and Lyanna, a small smirk spread across her wrinkled face.

"Grandmother!" Willas called, evidently shocked to see her. "What are you doing here? What about Margaery's wedding to the King?"

"You wish to question me as soon as I walk back in after a week long journey without greeting me or even introducing me to our guest?" She said, quite sharply. "It's times like this that you do show yourself as your father's son, Willas,"

"You must be Lady Olenna," Lyanna took a deep breath, not wanting to offend Willas' grandmother more than he had. "I'm Lyanna Stark, it is wonderful to finally meet you, Willas speaks so highly of you. I- I'm sorry for your grandaughter, being married to Joffrey, I mean,"

Lady Olenna laughed. "Don't be, he's dead,"

Lyanna felt her stomach drop. Her heart began to pound. Her legs ached and gave out, leaving her in a heap on the floor. For a second, she didn't know what to do with herself now that she had this information. Dead. Joffrey was dead. She began to laugh.

"Are you serious?" She choked out through her laughter, laughing so hard she felt her eyes streaming.

"Poisoned at his own wedding," Olenna nodded. "I'm sure you wish it had happened at your wedding,"

"What did he look like?" Lyanna asked. She wanted to know every detail, wanted to relish in the thought of Joffrey in pain, writhing on the floor whilst the life was choked out of him.

"He fell onto the floor, vomiting, wrenching, clawing at his own throat," Lyanna felt her smile grow as the old woman spoke. "His face went purple, his eyes streamed blood and he died in Cersei's arms. It was quite a spectacle, I need not have paid for entertainment and musicians,"

That's when Lyanna's smile dropped. He died a cowards death. He was a coward, so it was fitting, but poison? Poison to avenge her father, her son, her brothers? It wasn't enough. She wanted him to face more pain, more torture. She wanted him to feel everything he did to her and then still not be dead because she wanted to do more to him. How dare he be poisoned! How dare he die before she got to look him in the eye one last time and do it herself.

"Lyanna?"she felt a hand touch her shoulder. That was when she realised she'd been crying angry, silent tears. "Lyanna, are you alright?"

"I wanted to do it myself," she said quietly, hearing Olenna Tyrell laugh slightly.

"Whoever did it, I'm sure they did it on your behalf," the old woman said, having an air about her as she spoke as if she knew who'd done it. "Trust me, no one wanted a king who put a dagger through an innocent babe,"

"Grandmother, please," Willas said sharply, realising that her words were cutting into Lyanna like a knife, a reminder of all the bad things Joffrey had imposed on her.

Willas offered Lyanna his hand to help her up, and she took it, only for him to pull her into a tight hug. Her stomach fluttered, but as Willas held her close to him, on hand on the small of her back, his other - no longer gripped to his cane- stroking her hair. Although she could feel him shaking slightly, unsteady as he tried to balance on his bad leg, Lyanna wrapped her own arms around his waist, not only because she wanted to support him, but because it felt right.

"What that boy did to you, what he would have done, no person deserves," Lady Olenna continued. "I can only hope the pain he suffered was more than what he did to you,"

Lyanna nodded. "My sister, what happened to Sansa?"

"She disappeared, if she's smart she'll stay hidden like you did, the time for Wolves will come again,"

Willas, who was still holding Lyanna, offered her a small smile as he added, "And the Rose will be right behind you,"

***
Word count: 1688
***

Olenna Tyrell is a boss-ass bitch and I want to name all my future children after her.

~Olivia