It was the breaking of dawn when Lyanna left her tent, fully armed with her sword on her belt, dagger at her back and bow over her shoulder, dressed in thick leather armour, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She attempted to ignore the pounding pressure in her chest and the twisting nerves in her belly. Before she left the safety of her tent, she spared one final moment alone, holding her hands against her stomach, biting her lip as she attempted to put the worry of her pregnancy out of her mind for the day, deciding that for that day only, her own life and safety was the most important, not her child. If she lived, if they won the battle, then her pregnancy would become priority, but for now, the survival of House Stark was all that mattered to her.

Leaving her tent, she saw her army preparing themselves, the Unsullied and Second Sons Dany had gifted her readying their weapons, sharpening their swords, helping each other into their armour. At the head of them was Cassius, who saw Lyanna almost immediately and moved towards her, offering her a reassuring, small smile.

"We're almost ready, just waiting for you to give the order," Cassius said, taking hold of Lyanna's arm gently. "You alright?"

"Yes, fine," Lyanna said, maybe a little too quickly. "Where's Brutus? Casca?"

As if on cue, Lyanna's other commanders approached, the two men looking considerably more anxious than Cassius, Brutus especially, as his hands kept fiddling with his armour around his neck, whilst Casca kept running his hands through his hair.

"Any final words before you send us off?" Brutus said, nearly sounding angry at the prospect of battle.

His words seemed to attract the attention of the rest of her Eastern force, and Lyanna suddenly felt everyone's eyes turn to her. Glancing down at the floor nervously, flushing bright red, her mind becoming overcome with the thoughts of all of the soldiers surrounding her going to their deaths before the end of the day. Their deaths would be her fault, and this battle was her fault too.

"I- I believe that a thank you is in order to all of you for following me this far," Lyanna began, slightly flustered, feeling the pressure overcome her to speak. Taking a deep breath, she regained her composure, straightening her back and attempting too look more confident, despite the nerves eating away at her. "You all came here, to Westeros because I needed your help, and because I asked. You all answered my call for help. Many of the Northern Houses did not answer our call. I was raised to believe that Sell Swords and bought armies were things to be ashamed of. I was taught that there was no honour in what you did before joining me, that there was to be no pride in your careers or life choices. I realise now that I was wrong in thinking all of that, and for that I'm sorry. You all followed me to a land you had never seen and had only heard of in stories, and yet you are treating this fight as if it is your own, for a land that is your own. Your loyalty to me, to this cause, has been undoubtable, so thank you. When the Northern Houses didn't follow our cause, you did, and for that, you hold far more honour than any of them. So thank you, and whilst many of you may fall in today's battle, you will fall with honour, and will be remembered for your bravery, and each of your names will be remembered and go down in history,"

***

After rallying the troops, Lyanna saw to her next duty; preparing Rey. The dragon would be positioned at the top of the hill on the other side of the clearing with Sansa and her guard Brienne of Tarth, along with Lady, Nymeria, Ghost and Winter. If things went well, Lyanna would ride back to the dragon and take on the remaining Bolton force, so she would still have chance to prove her status to the northerners, but if it went badly, Sansa would have an escape route.

As she saddled the dragon up, her hands stroked the scales gently and almost lovingly, Rey moving her neck to rest her head on Lyanna's shoulders. In an almost embrace with the beast, Lyanna sighed, thinking of Daenerys and the three other dragons. It was a sad, nostalgic thought, as she wondered what her life would be like if she'd have stayed in the east with her aunt for a little while longer. She wondered how her aunt was, and decided she must try and make contact after the battle, if she survived the ordeal.

"Be good, protect my sister, alright?" Lyanna muttered, pulling away, placing her bow on the dragon's back. "I'll be back to you soon, girl, I promise,"

***

Sat atop a pure black stallion mount, Lyanna was ready. So was the entire army, lined up either side of herself and Jon their closest advisors just behind them. The army was lined up in uniformity, cluthing their weapons readily, and all were stood in such an intense and intimidating silence that the noise of a pin dropping would have echoed through them all; in fact, Lyanna was certain that she could hear her thundering heartbeat through the silence.

As they looked out over the landscape, Lyanna saw, with dread, the Bolton army, appearing much larger and much more equipped than their own, as well as the six burning crosses, each of them holding a now ashy corpse. As soon as her eyes found those, Lyanna knew that if they lost this battle, a death like that would be mercy for her at the hands of Ramsay. Then, from the back of the Bolton ranks, Lyanna made out the sight of a horse walking forward, the rider pullng something along at the end of a rope. It was only when the rider dismounted did Lyanna see that it was Ramsay, and the thing on the other end of the rope was their brother. Rickon.

Jon and Lyanna looked at each other in dread, both of them remembering the discussion with Sansa from the night before, shame washing over Lyanna when she realised she had also forsaken the brother that now stood across from them. There was still a slither of hope for Rickon, unless Ramsay played a game, which he was, Lyanna realised, feeling her heart sink when she saw him raise a blade up in the air, and knew how afraid her little brother must have been.

Jon dismounted his horse and stormed forward, though Lyanna remained where she was, almost paralysed by fear when she realised that the last time she had seen Rickon, he was little older than her son. She had already seen her son die once, or who she'd believed to be her son, and now a boy who's life should have been so different was most likely going to suffer the same fate. She felt sick, like all her bravery had disappeared, until she saw Ramsay slash at the ropes binding Rickon's hand, and moments later saw her brother begin to run.

That was when Ramsay lifted his bow and knocked his first arrow; his game had begun.

Without a second thought, without remembering Sansa's advice, Lyanna fell for his trap. She kicked her mount harshly, jeering it into a trot, then canter, then gallop, all within seconds, riding past Jon before he even had chance to re-mount his horse. He soon caught up though, as the two of them rode at break-neck speed in an attempt to get to their brother. If it was less of a crucial matter, Lyanna's mind would have gone to all their rides together as teenagers, but in that moment, she was purely fixed on the now, on making sure she wouldn't have to feel the pain of another loss, feel the heartbreak of another lost sibling.

Ramsay let off his first arrow, and missed Rickon by mere inches. Watching their brother run, Lyanna noted how he ran in a straight line, giving Ramsay an easier target; a fatal flaw. Nearing ever closer but still so far away, Lyanna felt her heart begin to ache, knowing that they were now so close, but t could all go so wrong still.

"Zig-zag!" She screamed in desperation, continuing to ride, watching as Ramsay let off another arrow that again narrowly missed Rickon. With dread, she realised he was still too far away to hear her, though that did not stop her. "Zig-zag, Rickon! Please!"

The gap between them seemed to close suddenly, growing ever closer, until he was mere feet away. A fait smile began to climb onto her face, the thought of victory passing through her mind, a small shred of happiness that they had finally gotten their brother back. Rickon was closest to Lyanna's horse first, though she had no time to stop. Instead, she reached out her arm, and as she got near him, he grabbed hold of her as she began to pull her horse to slow slightly. She saw a faint smile of relief pass his face as he made a move to climb onto the horse with her.

With a welcoming, sisterly grin, she began to pull him up with her, watching his face turn to relief, his lips beginning to form her name, only for him to falter, his grip on her arm going slack as he fell back, letting out a slight whimper, Ramsay's fatal and inevitable arrow piercing through his back and into his heart. Hopelessly and heartbreakingly, Lyanna attempted to keep her grip on her brother, letting out a cry of anguish when she realised it was her fault; she wasn't fast enough for him. She couldn't keep a hold of him though, not without pulling herself off her horse, and so she watched helplessly as her brother floundered to the ground, heaving his last few breaths, his eyes locking with hers.

It felt like a knife to her heart, a pain of grief unlike any other she'd felt before, as she remembered Rickon as the innocent boy he'd been, a mere child thrown into this harsh, cruel world. It hurt to look down at him as he fell still, the blood trickling out of his mouth as his life faded away, knowing it was her fault had that she should have been quicker. It was her fault. Her fault.

Feeling tears prick at her eyes, she glanced back up at Ramsay, knowing that he was probably wearing that smug smirk of his. Without sparing a look to Jon, she knew he was thinking the same, feeling the same. They were both about to blatantly disregard everything Sansa had warned them against, but Lyanna didn't care. She felt anger replace sadness, fury replace grief, the determination setting in her as she kicked her horse into moving once more.

Riding again, she watched as Ramsay disappeared behind his troops, and his archers began to knock and draw. Lyanna bit her lip as she pushed her horse on, fear beginning to push through the red she was seeing, until she heard the hooves of her brother's horse at the side of her own, and knew that whatever was about to happen he would be there with her.

A rain of arrows flew upon them, and she tried her best to dodge them. She was successful at it for quite a while, though Jon's horse fell. With a whinny of pain she heard his mount go down, and though she was going at such a seed she wouldn't be able to turn back for him, she threw her head round her shoulder desperately, relief washing over her as she saw him pull himself back onto his feet, continuing to charge on foot. Another swarm of arrows came her way and she ducked, burying her face down into the horse, protecting herself. Not that it mattered, as she heard a shrill cry and felt the horse jerk. Looking up, she saw an arrow in its chest, and with fear felt the horse begin to buck in what little energy and life force it had left. She attempted to hold on, but knowing it was inevitable soon felt herself flying off through the air, crashing down on her back, searing pain rushing through her whole body, especially her stomach.

Her hands darted to her belly as it twisted in pain, and felt immediate movement, much to her relief, though her entire body was in agony. She attempted to get to her knees, though the movement made her feel even worse. As she did sit up, she felt bile rise up through her and she began to retch, her head splitting, fear increasing in her. It felt like an age until she managed to stagger to her feet, and by that time Jon had caught up to her. He grabbed her shoulder and began pulling her into running alongside him, though her legs wer still shaking. She forced herself along with him, and eventually the adrenaline kicked in, almost learning to ignore the pain, especially when the two noticed the oncoming cavalry.

It began to seem inevitable, the deaths of Lyanna and Jon, as they noted the oncoming force, and with a glace to her brother, Lyanna pulled out her sword, deciding that if she was to die there, she would die with dignity. She readied herself, noting that Jon was doing the same, and began to brace herself for the impact of the nearest horse. Taking in a deep breath, Lyanna began to swing back her sword, ready for the force, wanting to take out as many as she could while she still could, only for the impact to miss her entirely, their own, much smaller but still powerful mounted force meeting with their opposition.

In disbelief the bastard twins looked at each other, surprise at their survival washing over both of them, not that they had reason for celebration as chaos ensued. Men were being thrown from their horses wildly, swords were clashing, poles were striking, all whilst the horrific sound of battle was brewing, soldiers letting out their death cries, horses shrieking and weapons clashing. It was awful, and not an environment someone of Lyanna's gender was expected to be in, but she'd made the decision long ago that battle was where she belonged, so here she was. She didn't have time to focus on any of that though, as she swung her sword madly, not entirely sure where to start amongst all the chaos.

An opposition came running at her, and she struck her sword at him as he did to her. He was quicker than her, and Lyanna knew that if she hadn't moved back at the same time as another man fell from his horse, causing her attacker to stumble over, her sword would not have found his head, and he would have been the one to kill her. There were others like that too, where she felt overwhelmed and under-practiced, but her environment led to her survival, except for when she went to duck one man's sword and stumbled herself, falling backwards just as a horse began to fall too. She moved quickly, but almost moved into a man's blade. The man's dagger slashed out at her and caught against her armour over her shoulder, though her jerked away. Jon soon ended him, swinging his own sword until it found home in the man's neck.

Seeing his sister on the floor, he pulled her to her feet and she regained herself, looking over the battle for any oncoming threats. Her eyes caught sight of Casca, who's sword was lost and was instead fighting with two knives, attempting to slash away at a Bolton, until they had him cornered. Lyanna charged over, swung her sword into the man's waist and watched as he fell. Her eyes locking with Casca's, she saw as the man threw one of his knives in Lyanna's direction. She ducked, panic fuelling her that he'd just tried to kill her in an act of betrayal, until she saw the Umber stood just over her, his blade about to drive though her neck. The man fell backwards, and Lyanna spun back round, holding her arm out to Casca to help him back up from where he was kneeling, only to see an arrow pierce through his eye, and then another through his chest, followed by the impact of a falling horse ploughing his body down into the dirt.

Not that there was any time for the shock or the loss to set in, Lyanna shook her head, and continued, her eyes darting nervously to find Jon, or Tormund, or Cassius. It was then that she saw Brutus, one of the only ones left atop a mount, though not for long as a Bolton man hacked off his horse's leg in a clean swing with his axe, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him off his already falling mount. Lyanna charged over and swung her sword into the soldier's chest, though it was already too late, his axe finding home in Brutus' skull.

That was when Lyanna wanted to throw up. In the space of mere seconds she'd lost two of her best advisors who'd followed her all the way from Essos. They' d followed her all that way, only for them to die so worthlessly, killed brutally and painfully, in front of her very eyes.

Back when she was a child, this was the life Lyanna had wanted; to be a soldier in the Northern army. Not anymore. A stupid ambition of a naïve child, naïve in believing in the fun of war. War wasn't fun, it was bloody and it was messy, and no amount of Eastern battles had prepared her for this. It was too late though, as she was there, and there was no way out other than death an a coward's flee. Lyanna decided neither would be an option for her, and so she continued to push on, fighting against the oncoming soldiers along with her inner turmoil of horror and disgust.

She fought as best she could, cutting down many men, hearing the dying pleas of young boys, watching the life's blood pour out of men twice her age at her own sword. Eventually she learned to cut herself off, to not feel, to not hear, to not see, not see anything but the enemy. This was until she noticed the bodies of the dead and dying building up a barricade, protecting Ramsay's remaining force that was now charging at them. In an attempt to remain calm, Lyanna looked through the crowd, spotting out Cassius at last, who's face was cut and bloody, exchanging in a fistfight with a man twice her size, and Tormund, his ginger hair and beard slicked with blood. Jon was also not far away, his eyes meeting hers, especially as they realised Ramsay's force was beginning to surround them, blocking them into a tight circle with their shields.

They stopped, placing their shields on the ground loudly, forming a wall, and for a moment, silence fell. It was eerily unnerving, though it became worse when the men with shields let out a cry and began a slow march in closer towards them. The crowd began to move in closer, compressing against each other, and it was only when Lyanna caught sight of the spears and the noise of them piercing through the front few men did she realise the true extent of the situation. It was terrifying, and a glance over to Jon told her that he felt exactly the same, true fear evident in his eyes.

"Hold them off!" Lyanna cried to her own men, deciding that if she was afraid, so were her men. She wouldn't let them see her afraid, she would have to command them, even if it was to no avail. "Push back!"

Her directions were useless, but they were still something. Her own force began to attempt a push back, and she called out further encouragements, until the Bolton's pushed closer and closer, and then, over the barricade climbed Ramsay's reinforcements. Lyanna's heart sank.

"Behind! Half take the spearmen, half defend the back!" she called, though knew very few would care to listen to her now. She was right, as the Bolton spearmen continued to push them closer, and, changing her direction, she began to call, "Move back! Fall back!"

The men listened this time, and began to push closer together, pushing against her in the middle. Her force fell into chaos, scrambling to get more room, forcing against each other all whilst she knew her brother was fighting against the new arrivals. Lyanna's men began to fall, men dying because of the spears, and the bodies began to pile up, falling against the survivors. Whilst she attempted to remain standing, Lyanna soon found herself being dragged down by one of her soldiers.

Now on the floor, Lyanna made to clamber onto her feet but no sooner did she get her balance again another body fell against her. It didn't take long for her to get fully overwhelmed, seemingly everyone falling against her. This was when the panic truly set in, her heartbeat racing, her breath catching in her throat while ever she could breath, her stomach aching wildly. Her vision began to darken in the stress and pressure.

'This is the end,'

***

Word count: 3605

***
Wowza, this is a long one!
I'm sorry this is so long but I didn't want to split it up, and it took me forever to write, hence why this wasn't up on Sunday. It's a bit rough round the edges but the battle was actually really hard to write, and I tried to focus on Lyanna's emotions as well as the action which meant the word count shot through the roof!

I hope you enjoyed it anyway, so lease leave a vote and a comment if you did! Also, as this book is drawing to a close, I would also really appreciate it if you would show some love for this story over on the FANFIC AWARDS on -asoiafcommunity. It would really mean a lot if you could nominate me, Lyanna, any other character or this book in general for one of their catagories and I would be forever grateful if you did so!

Thank you guys, next part should be up soon, only six chapters left!

~Olivia