When they found her, Lyanna was sat, her face stoic as she gripped onto the cold hand of Alize, her body shaking. Her eyes were unseeing, almost like Alize's, staring unobservently into space. She knew Winter was howling, but she couldn't hear her. Ears ringing, body numb, she felt like she was back at Baelor.

It felt like several infinities had past before people finally came into the tent. Eryk was first. She knew he was screaming, weeping, sobbing, what Lyanna didn't know was the right word to describe the horrific noise of grief he was making. Then he was on top of the assassins corpse, and he was punching what was left of the Lannister's head, then kicking it, stamping on it, swinging his sword against whatever skin was being shown, all of this until what was left of him was a bloody pulp.

"Eryk," she finally managed to choke out. He dropped his sword, turning to her so she could see the tears running down his face. "You've ruined your sword,"

He took in a breath and then began sobbing again. Lyanna's body was numb, her legs weak, otherwise she'd have gone to him, but instead he fell at her side, crumbling into her shoulder as he cried. Lyanna's face remained emotionless, the only remnants of her sorrow being her own tear stains.

"It's my fault," she found herself saying. "I- I left my weapons on the bed... My fault..." She trailed off, the words she spoke causing a pain in her chest.

Eryk pushed away from her, his head moving to now rest on Alize's cold neck. One hand was stroking her hair, the other pushed into her stomach, where her baby - his baby - once grew. Eryk had been happy for once, a free man, in love, soon to be a father. Now the last two had been torn away it was like he was a slave again to his own pain.

And Alize, only in this game because Lyanna had dragged her into it. She was dead because of her, because Lyanna brought her to the east. She'd ruined her life, and then had it taken away from her. She'd ruined Eryk's life too. This was all her fault.

She felt a pair of arms around her, two pairs. Turning her head, pulling her eyes away from Alize, she was met with the faces of Dany and Ser Jorah.

"Your Grace," Lyanna said flatly, almost coldly. "Yunkai is yours, but I regret to inform you there's been an infiltration of Lannisters in your camp,"

"Ser Jorah, go find the Second Sons, have them search the camp, even Yunkai if you have to," Dany ordered him, then lowered her voice, hoping Lyanna wouldn't hear the next part to come "And get someone to come and take the bodies away,"

Jorah nodded, leaving the tent as Daenerys wrapped her arms around Lyanna, attempting to lift her up, or at least guide her to her feet. She stood, though she was still numb and shaky. Dany's arms around her, she began to be guided out of the tent, until Lyanna stopped, pulling away.

"Ice..." She called and Eryk heard. He looked up at her with a tear stained glare as he got up to the bed, picked up the great sword and practically threw it at her. She heard it clang onto the floor and flinched.

"Here, it's a fucking shame you couldn't use it when it mattered, or was it too Royal of a sword to save her?" He practically snarled at her, pushing past her and storming out of the tent.

"Eryk!" She called, almost sounding desperate. Dany put a hand on her shoulder, as if to tell her not to run after him.

Dany led her out of the tent and into her own, sitting her down on the bed, taking her place on the floor, kneeling in front of her niece. She took hold of Lyanna's hands, though Lyanna didn't try to meet Daenerys' eye, ashamed of herself, her heart feeling crushed.

"Ser Jorah said you fought excellently earlier," Dany attempted to start conversation, hoping to take her mind off the situation.

"Robb," Lyanna said simply, remembering what the Lannister said.

"Your cousin?"

"My brother. Robb, my brother," Lyanna repeated the phrase, though it was like a stab to the heart. "Robb is dead,"

"H-how do you know?" Daenerys' voice faltered slightly in shock. "The assassin who killed Alize, did he tell you?"

Lyanna nodded, not able to find the words, closing her eyes tightly. She opened them, the images of Alize's last few moments replaying themselves in her mind, her words echoing around her mind. She met Darnerys' gaze, just as she couldn't hold her words in any more, flowing out like verbal tears.

"My parents, my father Eddard, my Brandon, Robb, and now Alize, it's too much, I- I can't anymore. All of these people, they were good, they did nothing in this world to anger the gods, those fat shits, but yet they're the ones who're dead. What happens to the bad people? They sit on the Iron Throne, they hold the strings in this world. Joffrey, where's the gods wrath for his sins? Cersei and Jaime, they lay together and cripple my brother but what happens to them?"

As she spoke, she realised how wrong she had been by coming to the East. Lyanna felt the realisation hit her like a sword hilt to the face as she thought of how different things would be if she'd have gone to Robb, or to Winterfell, or to the Wall, or even stayed in Kings Landing.

If Robb was dead, that meant that she was the oldest legitimised Stark, even if they didn't have the same father. However, that didn't mean she had a decent claim; Winterfell belonged to Bran now, wherever he was. Maybe he was dead too.

"Lyanna," it was Ser Jorah, knelt next to her. He was holding a bottle of what looked like mead, and a letter. He held out the mead first. "It's from the north, I bought it from a merchant a few months ago, I thought on a night like this, you'd want something from the north,"

Lyanna gratefully took the bottle from him and took a big swig. It was strong, and made her throat sting as it slipped down, making her cough slightly, but it still tasted like home, like the memory of sneaking drinks during feasts.

"And this, we found on the assassin," he held out the letter for her to take. She saw the wax seal, although there was a second next to it; one was scarlet with a lion, the other a grey wolf.

She took it, but with more urgency than she took the alcohol. The Stark's wolf sigil meant word from her family. Lyanna broke both seals, and began to examine the letter, noting the handwriting.

"Sansa!" She gasped, jumping up from where she was sat, hugging the parchment to her chest, as if it was her sister.

'Lyanna,
You're probably dead. Everyone else is. Robb was betrayed by the Boltons and Freys, who killed him unlawfully at the wedding of my uncle Edmure. My mother is dead too, and Robb's wife, who was pregnant. They killed Grey Wind too, and stitched his head onto Robb's body. They call it the Red Wedding.
Theon is dead too, but he betrayed Robb by taking Winterfell under Greyjoy rule. He killed Bran and Rickon. The Boltons rule Winterfell now.
There's no word on Jon or Arya. They're probably dead too.
After they found you gone, they planned to marry me to Joffrey, but he used to torture me like he did to you. You were right. He's a monster. He's decided to marry Margaery Tyrell now; she's not the daughter of a traitor. For a while I thought I'd be married to Loras Tyrell (do you remember the Knight of Flowers from Father's Tourney? Life was much simpler then), Lady Olenna even considered having me marry the eldest Tyrell (Willas, the one with the crippled foot) so I could be Lady of Highgarden. Cersei made sure nothing so good happened to me, you know how cruel she can be.
They had me marry the imp. He's good to me, and he's a lot nicer than the rest of them, but he's still a Lannister. It could be worse, you had worse.
I want you to know that I don't blame you for leaving me in Kings Landing. You did what you had to do to get to safety, wherever safety is. Tyrion told me he'd make sure to get this letter to you to ask you not to return to Westeros. According to him, Tywin Lannister has sent out an assassin to kill you, or bring you back, but I know - and Tyrion agreed with me - that you'd never be taken alive. I know what you're like though; even if a Lannister can't force you back, you're strong-willed enough to make you're own way back if you choose to. Please don't.
You're safe where you are. Stay there. Do not return to Westeros just yet, not until we can be together again without danger. Anyway, there's not really much to come back to. Our family is dead, our home has strangers living in its walls, and anyone who supported the Stark's is dead with Robb.
Still, I live for the day I will see you and we can be a family again.
Your sister,
Sansa'.

Lyanna stood for a moment, stunned, her heart aching within her chest, her stomach twisting to the extent she had to bolt outside the tent. She collapsed on her knees and began heaving, although there wasn't that much to get rid of. Her whole body was shaking as she thought through the letter again.

Bran. Rickon. Robb. Even Catelyn, all dead. Theon too, though she wouldn't mourn for that traitor. Although the letter didn't say it, Arya and Jon were dead too most likely. Who was left? Uncle Benjen could still be alive, maybe. Sansa was the only one still alive for definite.

She folded the letter neatly, small enough to fit into her fist and as Lyanna made her way back into the tent, she knew what she had to do. Upon reaching Daenerys, who looked at her niece in concern, Lyanna got to one knee and drew Ice from her belt, the way she had done so long ago in Quarth.

"Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the house Targaryen," she addressed, much to Dany's confusion. She didn't understand, and Lyanna didn't expect her to; she never loved her brother the way Lyanna loves her siblings. "Not so long ago I, Lyanna Stark, the daughter of Brandon Stark and Ayrella Targaryen, swore you my sword. I have fought for you, defended your title for you, killed your enemies for you, but now I ask you to pardon me for my actions of the future. I wish to split from your royal party in order to sail home, find what's left of my family and go and reclaim the north,"

Daenerys was overcome with emotions. She didn't want Lyanna to leave her. She was so crucial to not only her cause, but her sanity. Lyanna made Dany laugh, and she was the first family member to be kind to her. She was her only family left. However, Dany pushed all of that away as she gestured for Lyanna to stand before engulfing her into a tight hug.

"You have not only my permission, but my blessing to leave," Dany smiled, trying to make sure she wasn't crying. "You won't go home alone either. I only have one ship, but it is yours, and whilst I cannot spare many troops, I will make sure you go home with an armed force,"

Lyanna smiled slightly as she thought of Sansa and herself rallying a northern army, combined with her forces of Daenerys' troops.
The Boltons won't know what's hit them.

***
Word count: 2013
***

YES, LYANNA'S GOING HOME!
You guys don't know how long I've been waiting to write her back in Westeros. I'll miss her being with Dany, but I can't wait for Lyanna to reunite with Jon and Sansa, and even meet a love interest ;) . 
Stay tuned, dudes,
~Olivia