"She said I was like a wildfire, destroying everything I touched, and all she loved turned to ashes."
"But you were a mere babe," Tormund said.
"Aye a mere babe that she wanted dead."
***
Y/n Lannister, older twin of Tyrion, the Imp. Their whole...
"Good you are awake," Sam said when he entered the room. I groaned and tried to sit upright, but a small pinch in my side stopped me. Looking down there were bandages wrapped around my waist with dried blood stains. "How long was I out?" He handed me a small bowl with water.
"Five days." I almost spat the water in his face. "How?"
"The wound wasn't so severe, it missed all the organs and it only tore the meat, even with the twist. You are quite lucky." Tarly smiled, helping me up.
It felt as if I was a ghost, roaming through the deserted halls of the castle. A few soldiers from either party and servants past me without a glance as I strolled by. Sighing, I embraced the cold air in my lungs as I stood on a balcony, looking over the courtyard.
The men, women, and children were busy repairing what was broken, training for their next battle, or mourning the ones we lost.
"We thought we lost you." Tyrion came up behind and stood next to me, staring down at the people before smiling up.
"I am a fucking Lannister for gods' sake. It takes more than that to get rid of me." I joked, picking at the fallen snow on the railing.
"I was so afraid... I don't know what I would have done if I lost you... You are my sister, my best friend..." Tyrion said, his voice trembling, trying to hold his emotions and tears back.
"Tyrion, look at me." I kneeled, sitting on my legs, and grabbed his shoulders. "Remember that promise I made you, back at Dragonstone when we sat on the edge of the cliff? I promised you that I will never leave you again and not even death can make me break that promise." I smiled, tears formed in my eyes as I looked at my baby brother. Truth be told I was scared, scared that I would shatter it and desert him, to face this wicket world by himself.
"Enough of this mushy shit. Maester Tarly informed me about your awakening, no doubt he told the rest of the clan. Go, go get ready for the celebration feast of our victory." Tyrion said and before he could walk away, I asked.
"Victory feast? Now? Why didn't you all have it the night we won?"
"It wouldn't be the same without you. Now go, put something nice and pretty... and clean on. I will send someone to bring you new clothes. And just so you know, he sat hours, day and night by your side. "
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Staring at the mirror in the room Jon provided me when they won the Battle of the Bastards, I sighed at my reflection. It had been a long time since I wore a dress or anything other than men's pants and fur.
The victory feast was somber and quiet though the hall was filled, even if almost a week had passed since we lost the ones we loved. At the head table sat Bran, Sansa, Jon, the Queen of Dragons, and Tyrion.
As I entered, the doors closed loudly behind me, causing them to turn their heads towards the sound. Patting my white dress down, I made my way through the long bench tables toward the long table. I curtsied. "My Lords, my Lady, Your Grace."
