Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.20: Trip to Winterfell

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Lyanna's chambers, bathing the room in a soft golden light. She woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open to an empty bed. For a moment, her heart sank in disappointment. Tom was gone.

Memories of the previous night flooded her thoughts—their shared kiss, the warmth of his arms around her as she drifted off to sleep. Her cheeks flushed at the memory, her fingers lightly brushing her lips.

But as she stepped into the bath, letting the warm water soothe her muscles, guilt began to creep into her thoughts.

What am I doing? she thought, closing her eyes. Cedric...

Her mind raced, a whirlwind of emotions crashing against each other.

I've betrayed him, haven't I? She accused herself. How could I let this happen after everything we shared and everything he meant to me?

But then another voice within her snapped back, cold and sharp. He betrayed you first. He didn't trust you. He pushed you away when you needed him most.

The thought stung, but it was true—or at least, it had been. Yet Cedric's apology lingered in her memory, softening her bitterness. He said he was sorry. He was willing to make things right, but I was the one who avoided him. I'm the one who ran.

Lyanna sank deeper into the water, her mind at war. But this isn't the same world anymore, she argued with herself. This is where I belong. This is who I am.

And then, unbidden, Tom's face appeared in her thoughts. His quiet confidence, his steadfast loyalty, the way he had looked at her last night—not just with desire, but with trust. He didn't see her as a pawn or a threat. He saw her.

Cedric isn't here, she reminded herself, her jaw tightening. Tom is. And I trust him not to betray me.

Her thoughts spiraled until they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Lyanna?" Tom's voice called from the other side.

"Wait a moment!" she answered, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Rising from the bath, she dried herself off and began to dress. She wore a flowing, slate-gray tunic with intricate silver embroidery resembling dragon scales, paired with fitted black trousers tucked into knee-high boots. A sleek, leather belt with a dragon-shaped buckle cinched her waist, and she added a modern touch with a deep red cloak that draped over one shoulder, fastened with a silver brooch. The cloak's lining was embroidered with faint geometric patterns.

When she was ready, she opened the door to find Tom standing there with a tray of food.

"Good morning," he said with a small smile, his dark eyes meeting hers.

"Good morning," she replied, stepping aside to let him in.

He set the tray on a small table by the window. The spread was simple but thoughtful: warm bread, cheese, fresh fruit, and a steaming pot of tea.

"I woke early," he explained, turning back to her. "I thought you could use more rest, so I didn't wake you. But I figured you might appreciate breakfast brought to you."

Lyanna's lips quirked into a faint smile. "That's... considerate of you."

Tom shrugged, a flicker of warmth in his expression. "You were exhausted. It seemed the least I could do."

As Lyanna sat by the tray, he added, "There's something else. A raven arrived this morning. It's addressed to you."

Her brow furrowed. "A raven?"