THE LONG WINTER - Sandor Clegane.

ch. nine - you win or you die.

you're           coming           back —              and it's
the end                                                   of the world.

When Eddard finally came to, Lyarra had been seated just to his left — with the king and queen on her opposite. The two had arrived only moments prior, both barging in without more than a rushed welcome. Robert had brushed past her, stomping to Ned's side. Cersei, however, hang back — glancing over Lyarra. A moment of silence stretched between them, as she shrunk under the Queen's inquisitive gaze. After another beat, she moved to her husband's side — seemingly content with what she had found in Lyarra's eyes.

Lyarra rushed to inform the pair that Eddard had yet to wake, but was silenced as the man began to stir. She couldn't help but curse him in that moment. Of course, he couldn't wake up when it was just the two of them alone. When he could have a moment to breathe, to take in his surroundings. Damn her brother and his honor, she thought.

They came to question Eddard about Tyrion, which came as no surprise to her. Cersei's tone was spiteful, her stare carrying an immeasurable amount of disdain. Robert, however — only stood at her side — his expression dark, save for the disinterest coating his gaze. Lyarra reached out to clutch her brother's hand as the three continued arguing amongst themselves, drawing the stare of the Queen once more.

"Oh, will both of you shut your mouths?" Robert snapped, as Eddard defended his wife. Lyarra bristled at the sudden sound. "Catelyn will release Tyrion, and you will make your peace with Jaime."

"He butchered my men. He would have done it in front of my sister, had she not been pulled away." Ned argued, squeezing her hand then. Lyarra held back her flinch, as all eyes drew to her in that moment. Cersei narrowed her eyes, a sardonic smile overtaking her.

"Lord Stark and Lady Lyarra were returning drunk from a brothel when his men attacked Jaime." Cersei stated, her stare never once pulling from Lyarra. In return, she found herself standing taller — moving to speak again, before she was interrupted by the King.

"Quiet, woman!" Robert snapped, causing Cersei's pointed glare to flit to him.

"Jaime has fled the city. Give me leave to bring him back to justice."

"I took you for a King," Cersei bit after a moment of silence, "I should wear the armor — and you, the gown."

The sound of the slap took Lyarra's breath from her momentarily. Robert shook his hand, all the while glaring at Cersei. Eddard had not moved an inch, but she felt him tense in her hand. He squeezed back once more, pulling away — moving to sit up with a grunt. When Cersei rose, her stare was almost murderous. She did not shrink under him, but seemed to grow in power. She left only a moment after, slamming the door behind her as she went.

Lyarra thought of going after her, of looking over the wound. There had always been a level of tension between the two, but her pity for the woman overtook that — in that moment. As if predicting her thoughts, Eddard took hold of her hand once more — tugging her back to his side. He and Robert continued their conversation soon after, leaving Lyarra to clean up after her brother — wiping his forehead with a rag.

"I can't rule the Kingdoms if the Starks and the Lannisters are at each other's throats. So, enough." Robert bit, letting out a harsh shy as he rambled on. He paused, turning his sharp gaze to Lyarra. "Will you get that through your half-wit brother's thick skull? If he won't listen to me, I can only hope you can get through to him."