"Oh Lyanna," Lord Stark sighed, cupping his hand around her bruised cheek. She could feel tears brimming in her eyes but refused to let them show. She had to be strong for her father; today was the day he was confessing to his treason.

Neither of them were fools. They knew that Joffrey wasn't going to let Ned go back to the north, or be sent to the wall. He wasn't going to split from Lyanna and let her go north. Lord Stark would be killed and Lyanna would remain in the South as Joffrey's play thing. That was why Lyanna had snuck down into the black cells to see him one last time, to say a proper goodbye.

"I'm fine, I will be fine," she shook her head, trying to brush away her own worries as well as her uncle's. Even as she said she was fine, the horrid memories of her torture flashed through her mind. She'd had constant nightmares about it for the last few nights.

"My sweet girl, what has the south done to us both?" he said, almost with a laugh.

"Stark's belong in the north, we should have realised that," she said with a sad smile. "Joffrey hasn't spoken to me since... since he had me beaten. I'm hoping he'll overlook me a little,"

"We both know that won't happen, Lya," he stroked her hair lovingly. "Promise me you will try and keep yourself safe, and your sisters, and little Brandon,"

At the thought of Arya, who was still missing since they day all hell broke loose, Lyanna nearly broke down. Arya, her favourite after Jon and Robb. Arya, who all the men used to call Arya Underfoot. Arya, who would ditch sewing lessons in a heartbeat to join Lyanna and the boys. Arya, who was probably dead in a ditch down Flea Bottom. It was a horrible thought, but a realistic one. She didn't want to voice her thoughts to Lord Stark, so she merely nodded.

"I've told Alize to watch Brandon today. I would have brought him, but..." she couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a sob. Ned sighed, pulling her close, pushing her head against his chest. She continued to cry for a good ten minutes, but even when she was done, she remained curled up by Lord Stark.

"I'm so sorry, I should have fought against Robert, I should have fought to get you to the night's watch," He apologised. Lyanna didn't say anything, she just listened to his heartbeat through his shirt, feeling his chest rise and fall.

"I... I just want you to know that I love you," she sighed out eventually. "I want you to know, no matter who my true parents are, you are and always will me my father, Ned Stark and I am forever in your debt for raising me. Thank you for not leaving me to starve as a baby, thank you for letting me fight, thank you for raising me in Winterfell. Some days, I wish I had gone north with Jon, but if I had, I wouldn't have Brandon, the only good to have come out of this situation. I used to be so angry at you for not fighting to keep me as Lyanna Snow, but I've suffered, and Sansa hasn't and that will always stay with me that I protected my little sister by doing this,"

"I should have said no, I shouldn't have become Hand," he sighed.

"Too late for thinking like that," she sighed, wincing slightly as he stroked her back. "It still hurts a little, please be careful. I'll be damned if I let Pycelle touch me, Alize had to bandage me up. It could be worse though,"

"I'm sorry this had to happen to you,"

"What, the marriage or the beating?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "All those months of training and I just laid there,"

"No you didn't Lya, don't blame yourself," Alize had said the same as she tried to comfort her the night it happened, but the words had no effect on her then, and they certainly didn't now.

Sighing, she placed a kiss on his cheek, before getting up.

"Don't be scared, Lya, please don't cry over me," he said quickly before she could leave.

"I'm a Stark. Bad things happen to Stark's sometimes, but Winter Is Coming and in winter we must put aside our fear, because worse things could happen," she said, almost stoically.

"You're a brave girl, Lyanna, and I'm proud of you. Your father would be proud too, and your mother. Now you best go, before someone catches you down here,"

***

"Ser Illyn, bring me his head!"
A roar from the crowd blew up as Lyanna and Sansa screamed. She knew it was going to happen, but as he was 'confessing', part of Lyanna thought maybe, just maybe, Joffrey might let him go. There was more chance of dragons hatching than her father's treasons being forgiven.

As she screamed, Lyanna looked out over the crowd. For a second, she thought she could see Arya. However, the little girl disappeared into the crowd, along with all hope Lyanna had for Lord Stark being allowed to live.

Assuming that she was going to get in the way, she felt the Hound grab a hold of her harshly, pulling her back from the execution about to take place. Lyanna could see another guard was holding Sansa back as she wept. Being held back by Clegane didn't stop Lyanna yelling at Joffrey to stop, even when she saw Ser Illyn Payne step forward, pulling out a great sword as Lord Stark was forced onto his knees.

"He has Ice!" Sansa cried, horrified. Though the sword did look remarkably like Ice, the Stark family sword, Lyanna knew it was just a trick. It wasn't the real Ice, as Lyanna, smart enough to realise that if Lord Stark was going to be killed, they would do it with his own sword, had hidden it in the Tower of the Hand where no one could find it. A replica had obviously been forged in its place, though looking very much like the family sword, Lyanna could tell the difference.

She had outsmarted their trick meant to upset her. If it wasn't Lord Stark's execution, Lyanna would have smirked.

Shooting his daughter's a last glance, Lyanna watched as Lord Stark lowered his head, exposing his neck, and...

No. No this couldn't be happening. Lyanna screamed, the tears from watching her uncle die gracing her cheeks. She pulled out of the Hound's grip and fell onto her knees sobbing. She hated herself for it, but, just as it happened, she had closed her eyes.

'Stupid girl,' she thought to herself. 'All those months ago when she had ridden out to see the execution of the deserter, what had Jon said to Bran and I? Don't look away, Jon had said. Father will know if you do, Jon said. And what have I done? Stupid, stupid fool!'

As she wept, she remembered another thing. She remembered being beaten and telling herself not to let herself look weak in front of Joffrey. Now however, she had let Joffrey and everyone else see her weak, see her hurt, but she didn't care.

"You're a monster!" She roared, getting to her feet and throwing herself at Joffrey. "You little beast, you evil little shit, how could you do that? You didn't even kill him yourself! The man who passes the sentence should always swing the sword but you're too cowardly to do that, you cowardly little cunt!" She spat on him and the crowd gasped. Lyanna immediately knew she'd made a mistake as two city watchmen grabbed her arms, pulling her back.

'I'm going to die,' she thought. 'Good. Kill me. Let me be a martyr in the war. Let Robb kill Joffrey in my honour. There's nothing left to live for, except Brandon.'

"You stupid little whore!" Joffrey hissed at her as one of the King's Guard hit her sharply around the face. Her lip split and began to bleed, her cheek turning bright red. "Your a traitor, you should join your father!"

At his words, the guards began to shove Lyanna onto her knees and Ser Illyn drew his great sword again.

She wanted to tell them to kill her, but a glance at poor little Sansa, passed out on the floor, and a thought of her son made her hold her tongue. They were going to cut her head off anyway, it wouldn't help if she was screaming abuse at them all.

"Wait!" Joffrey said at the last second. The guards pulled her to her feet roughly to the extent her dress tore slightly on the skirt. "You may be a traitor, but you're still my wife, and mother says if I kill you and your bitch sister your traitor brother will kill my uncle Jaime. I can't kill you. You're worthless to me, but apparently bastards are worth something to northern fools,"

Joffrey got a handful of her long curly hair and pulled it so she would look at him. "I've just spared your life, now thank me,"

She wanted to tell him where he could stick his thank you, but she bit her lip once more, glancing behind him to see them pulling her father's body away.

"I said, say thank you!" He shouted at her again as a guard hit her across the face for the second time.

"Thank you, my dearest husband," she muttered bitterly, tears pouring out of her eyes involuntarily.

For a second she thought everything was going to be okay. Well, not okay, but she thought she would be taken back to the Red Keep and locked up there as a prisoner with only Sansa and Brandon for company to see her father and all of her friend's heads on the Castle wall. However, Joffrey wasn't finished.

"Bring out the bastard!" He called to a guard. Lyanna was confused; who was the bastard? When she saw who Joffrey meant, her stomach dropped and her heart stopped beating.

One of the City watchmen had pulled a badly beaten Alize onto the platform her arms tightly wrapped around a small, screaming bundle. It became obvious that Alize was holding Brandon when she was shoved to the ground, crumbling as if she was made of paper. She looked to be unconscious, and Lyanna prayed she wasn't dead. She couldn't handle losing one of her only remaining allies. Joffrey took Brandon into his arms, holding him out so the crowd could see.

"This is Prince Brandon of house Baratheon, my wife's son," Joffrey announced. "It has come to my attention that he isn't a true prince and that his whore mother betrayed me for another, a northern traitor in her father's guard,"

"Liar!" Lyanna screamed over him. The guards held her tighter as she pulled against their strength.

Joffrey ignored her. "There is only one punishment worthy of betraying a King and that is death. I cannot kill my wife, but I can kill her son!"

Lyanna felt her heart stop. She felt every fibre in her body shut down momentarily in shock and panic, his words ringing around in her ears. He couldn't, could he? As her mind processed what he said, Lyanna began shaking out of anger and fear, pulling harder against her captive's grip.

"No!" She cried, so loud everyone in the crowd fell silent, her screams echoing around the city. This was the quietest King's Landing had ever been. Somehow, no one in the audience agreed with Joffrey this time, all too stunned to even speak. Lyanna, however, made enough noise to make up for the absence of their voices.

"Joffrey, please! He's done nothing wrong! He is your son! I'll be a good wife to you from now on, I promise on my life, as long as you let Brandon live! Please, let him live!" her begs were ignored, and she watched through thick tears as the guards around her hesitated at Joffrey's order. For half a second, she thought Joffrey would take back his order, but no sooner than the thought coming to mind, Lyanna saw a city watchman stand forward.

"Your grace," she recognised the toad like voice as Ser Janos Slynt, commander of the city watch, one of the men who had betrayed Lord Stark. "I ask for the honour of killing the bastard,"

"Ser Janos," Joffrey smirked evilly, glancing over to his wife who was still begging and screaming. "Everyone else is too cowardly, the honour is yours! Guards, bring the bitch closer, I want her to have a good view!"

As she was pulled kicking and screaming closer to Joffrey, she watched as he handed the crying babe to Ser Janos.

Janos pulled out a knife.

Lyanna begged harder.

The babe's cries were cut off sharply as the man impaled his tiny chest with the dagger.

Lyanna fell to the floor, one thought in her mind:

'Let me die too.'

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*Sips tea casually* Well then.