It was like Jon and Lyanna had never separated, the way they immediately clicked back into the bond of being twins. Even thinking of all the time apart made her heart ache as she just couldn't imagine not being with her brother, even after just a few hours after being reunited.

"Lyanna," Jon frowned eventually. "All the notes I got... about father... well they all said that you were there,"

"I was, and by your tone I'm guessing you want to know about that day?" Lyanna swallowed, knowing he'd ask eventually. As he nodded, she let out a sigh. "I went to see him that morning, before... well we both knew it would happen. All he kept doing was apologise for taking me south. Then at Baelor, he met my eye as the sentence was given, as if to tell me to look after Arya and Sansa and Brandon. I tried to watch, Jon, he'd have wanted me to, like you told me when he executed the deserter, but I couldn't... I..."

"It's okay, you don't have to say anymore," Jon interrupted, seeing her struggle and put his hand on her arm reassuringly. "Starks shouldn't go south,"

"That's true, I was raped, beaten, patronised, impregnated by a man I did not love enough to give him a son, and then forced to watch as they murdered my father and a child I was made to believe was my son," Lyanna said, her eyes closed as she listed. "If I'd have stayed, more of the same would have happened I'm sure. Joffrey would have continued to rape me and I would pretend I was the dutiful wife who did not care about my mistreatment because my family were traitors, and I would go on to give him more heirs until I either died in childbirth or Joffrey had me killed just like he did father,"

"Can I ask you something else? You rode into Castle Black on a dragon, and only Targaryen's can control them," Jon began. "Did father ever tell you about our mother? Was she a dragon?"

"No, but my mother was," Lyanna said simply, and when she saw his confusion, she continued. "We're not twins, Jon, not even brother and sister. It broke my heart when I found out and I'm sorry that I have to tell you but it's only fair. My mother was a princess, Ayrella Targaryen, Rhaegar's twin sister, and my father was a man I was raised to believe was my uncle, Brandon Stark. I'm Brandon Stark's only living heir, and other than my aunt Daenerys I am the last Targaryen too,"

"Lyanna..." Jon stood up quickly, frowning, and Lyanna followed him, grabbing onto his arms as he began to pace. "You're not my sister..."

"No, I am, Jon, I am!" She practically pleaded. "I love you like a brother, and never have once have I thought of you as a cousin and not my twin because that's what you are in my heart. And I'm sorry I don't know who your mother is, I would have asked father but I ran out of time, I had so many questions left to ask him,"

Jon paused suddenly, running his hands through his hair and beard. He turned to her, as if trying to find a fault in her that would make her less of his sister. He found no such thing.

"Father, I mean my father, your uncle! He's lied to us our whole lives!" Jon exclaimed, his breathing heavy in shock, his hands on his head as he turned away from her. When he turned back, he'd regained himself and took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter, you're still my sister, you always will be. Except with you legitimised now, Winterfell is rightfully yours, as Brandon Stark's heir. I guess the iron throne too, considering your mother,"

"No, I don't want the Seven Kingdoms, the Iron Throne can go to The Others I care that little for it!" Lyanna exclaimed, shocked he would even say it. "But Winterfell... I do want that, but not for me, for our family. It's our family home and right now it is filled with traitors who killed our brother! Roose Bolton is sleeping in our father's bed with his fat wife, whilst Ramsay rapes our little sister in our home where we spent our childhood!"

"Our sister?" Jon froze, frowning.

"Sansa," Lyanna said simply. "I should have been there to protect her, considering the same happened to me, except her situation is so much worse than mine,"

Jon sighed, and then he noticed the tears in her eyes forming. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her forehead in an act of brotherly love as she took in deep breaths.

"I married again," Lyanna sighed eventually. "His name is Willas Tyrell, but even now I still think of what Joffrey did to me, what he had done to me, and no amount of love from my husband can fix that. Do you know what it feels like to love someone whilst your past still haunts over you?"

Jon remained silent for a moment, and then Lyanna heard him sniff. Pulling out of his grip, Lyanna moved so that she could see his face, frowning, which was when she saw the tear running down his cheek. Jon never cried in front of her, not even the day they said goodbye.

"Yes," he choked out eventually. "Ygritte, a Wildling, but I loved her all the same. She was fierce and strong, but soft and beautiful too, kissed by fire. She died in my arms, killed by a boy named Olly. She'd been part of the party who'd killed his parents, and she'd killed many others, but that didn't stop me loving her,"

"Oh, Jon," Lyanna gasped, and hugged him again. "I'm sorry,"

The two stood in their embrace for a while, Lyanna thinking about Jon's life. He'd thought she was dead for so long, and he'd lost his love too. He'd lost men too, friends, brothers. He'd suffered just as much as she had, if not more, and her heart ached for him.

"Oh, Jon," Lyanna repeated. "What has this world done to both of us? I know the pain of losing someone you love, I know it well, and I'm sorry you have to know it too, and whilst it won't fix everything, we need to get Winterfell back. It's our home, Jon, I don't care how long we've been away, it will always be our home!"

"I know, Lya, but what can we do?" Jon sighed, pulling out of their embrace to sit back down. "I'm a sworn brother of the Nights Watch, the Lord Commander! How can I leave my post when winter is so close? I've seen them, Lya, the army of the dead, the Night's King, all of what we thought was just stories Old Nan told us to scare us, and it's coming,"

Lyanna stood there, frozen, not sure what to say. She trusted Jon with her life, but yet she couldn't believe what he was saying. She opened her mouth, trying to think of a question about the others that wouldn't make her seem ignorant, but Jon spoke before Lyanna found her words.

"Look, Lya, I'm Lord Commander," Jon spoke, his tone serious, and she knew he wasn't talking as her brother here, but as a leader; it suited him. "If Mormont was still here he would have taken you in, but I don't think he would have let you swear the oath. You're my sister, and you're a good fighter, better than half the boys here. If you wish, I'll take you down to the weirwood tomorrow and you can say the words like I did, the way you always wanted to. You can be a ranger if that would make you happy,"

A few years ago that would have made her so ecstatic. A ranger, the first sister of the Nights Watch! And with Jon too, a dynamic duo taking on Wildlings and White Walkers, the way it should have been! Now though, everything was different. Lyanna now had Willas, and Brandon, even the other Tyrell's to think of, as well as Sansa and Winterfell. Right now what mattered was getting her home back and her sister safe. Her own previous hopes and dreams didn't matter, all that mattered was looking after House Stark and regaining Winterfell.

"That's not why I'm-"

Lyanna had began to speak when the door flew open. Stood there was a young boy, no older than thirteen, and Lyanna knew immediately that this was the boy Olly, who'd killed Ygritte, and part of her thought of him with contempt considering he was the reason Jon had lost the woman he loved, but then she remembered that he was a young boy, and she'd killed his parents. An orphan, like herself and Jon.

"Lord Commander!" He exclaimed as soon as he got through the door. "One of the wildlings, they know where your Uncle Benjen is!"

"Uncle Benjen?" Lyanna shot up quicker than Jon could, making herself feel dizzy. "When I didn't see him I just thought he was dead! Where is he?"

"He's been missing, I thought he was dead too but-" Jon interrupted himself, turning back to the boy. "Olly, are you sure?"

The boy nodded quickly, a faint smile appearing on his face. Lyanna and Jon exchanged a look, and she felt her heart thud in excitement. Another family member she had thought would be lost, soon to return!

The two followed the boy out of the room and down the stairs, Lyanna walking hurriedly, anticipation building inside of her. Seeing a crowd of crows in the corner of the courtyard, the two made their way over, expecting to see a wildling amongst them, instead of the whole black crowd. Lyanna paused for a second, feeling as if something was wrong, before she pushed the feeling away, running after Jon, who was already in the middle of the crowd.

"For the watch,"

She heard it before she saw it. The gruff voice, the noise of a dagger piercing through fabric, and Jon's yelp of pain. Then she saw it, the picket sign reading 'TRAITOR', Crows stood around holding knives and daggers, Jon on his knees, his hands pressed against his bleeding wound with desperation, trying to hold it together.

Lyanna let out a gasp, and then let out a noise of heartbreaking grief and fear, the inhuman cry of pain and sadness even guilting the men of the watch, to the extent one of them dropped their blade and moved towards her, grabbing her from behind, his dirty hand pushed against her mouth to stop her from screaming anymore, the noise of her being too painful for even them. She struggled desperately against his grip as he forced her to watch as each man took his turn, repeating the words and stabbing Jon in the chest. Each knife that went in felt like it was stabbing Lyanna herself.

Eventually, it came to the last one, and Lyanna met Jon's gaze. He looked at her weakly, so much fear and pain in his eyes, his mouth desperately trying to shape her name, but he just did not have the energy for it. He flopped to the ground, his hands still pressed against his wounds, until she saw his eyes glass over, and his life slipped away.

"Your brother was a traitor, and he payed the price of a traitor," the one holding her hissed, dropping his grip on her.

She fell to the floor, stumbling over to Jon. She couldn't bare to look, though she threaded her fingers through his, and lent down, resting her forehead on his, tears she didn't know she had been crying streaming down her face, dripping onto Jon. She let out a sob, feeling the anger build inside of her. Lyanna surged to her feet and threw herself at the one who'd held her, Thorne, Jon had called him.

"You fucking traitors!" She screamed, punching him in the face. "You're worse than the fucking wildlings, you monsters!"

Lyanna's hand darted to her belt where her sword should have been, but she felt her heart sunk when she realised she had left her weaponry upstairs, cursing the habit she had gotten herself into in High Garden for not carrying her weapons. In desperation, she reached round to the holster on her back and found that empty too, only to see Thorne holding her dagger up to her, Robb's dagger.

"Pretty little blade for a lady," he commented, as the other men grabbed her, stopping her from struggling anymore. She was too weak anyway. "He brought wildlings south of the wall, so he was the traitor, not us, but you wouldn't understand that. You're just a silly little lady who thinks she can play with boys and fight. You're not like us, and you never would have been one of us because you're probably just like him. It's been a while since my men have seen a woman, so I could let them tear into you and fuck you to their hearts content, but instead I'll give you the mercy of a quick death,"

At his last words, Lyanna began to struggle, her eyes wide with fear. Is this what Jon felt? Robb, Bran, Rickon, Alize, Ned, father, mother? Is this how it was for them? The fear, and the devastation of knowing you'll never see your loved ones again? She thought of Willas, and of Brandon, and before she knew it, she felt a slash across her neck.

The sharp blade of Robb's dagger had cut across her jugular in a fine, thin, shallow slice, but fatal all the same. Lyanna let out a gasp, her heart surging as she felt blood run down her neck. As the men dropped her next to Jon's body, her hands desperately clawed at her throat, trying to stop the blood. Coughing, choking, she spewed up her life's blood, feeling the cold seep into her as everything else faded away, even her vision, until there was nothing left but the cold and snowy wind blowing the light flurry across the dead bodies of the bastard twins of Ned Stark.

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Word count: 2388
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Damn son, that's quite the ending!

I'm uploading tonight since I'm going to London on a trip with my A Level History class tomorrow (tell Lizzy II to put the kettle on!) I genuinely love A Level History so much since there are so many comparisons between the Tudors and GOT (Henry VIII = Ned Stark?!).

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (lmao what am I taling about you're all dead from that ending), so much happened! The whole Jon and Lyanna conversation makes me happy because my speciality is writing dialogue and it was so fun to write those characters together again (even more fun to kill them both though smh). Please comment and vote, and also check out my other stories since I've just uploaded a Sherlock fic!

See you next week!

~Olivia