A Dragon In Wolf's Clothing ~A Game of Thrones fan fiction~

Chapter Seventy Three: Before the Battle

The northern air was sharp and crisp as Lyanna rode out the morning before the battle, closely followed by Jon, Sansa, Tormund, Lyanna Mormont and Cassius. The three Stark's kept their horses close together, their entourage following suit. Despite the circumstances, Lyanna couldn't help but think how good it felt to be riding in the North, her mind going back to her early teens when she'd sneak out for rides all the time with her brothers, even going alone sometimes, just enjoying the freedom and the sensation of galloping through the wide open landscape. For this meeting, Lyanna had purposefully not tied her hair back, allowing her brunette curls to soar through the wind, savouring the feeling of the wind racing through her hair. 

'I may be dead again soon,' she'd thought that morning as she dressed in her thick black battle dress. 'I may as well enjoy the feeling of being alive now'. 

They stopped, halting the horses suddenly as they reached a dip in the landscape, two hills surrounding them. The area made Lyanna feel uneasy, realising how easy it would be for the Boltons to gain high ground on them right at that point, betraying their trust for a meeting and just killing them in cold blood. She looked around, desperately, as if to find a way out of they needed it, only for her eyes to land on Winterfell. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the great keep, the sight of it making her heart sing, as if her entire life had been leading up to this moment. She'd been away for so long, but suddenly seeing every stone, every tower, every high wall, it was like she'd never left, and any doubt as to what in Seven Hells they were doing left her mind instantly. 

"Welcome home," she called to her siblings, and as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she found it very hard to keep her smile away. 

Lyanna didn't understand why she was smiling. She knew instantly upon seeing it again that retaking it would be almost impossible. Here Ramsay had the advantage, here he was safe, and here, he would be able to keep his men well rested until the time came for battle. Winterfell may have been her home in the past, but now Ramsay was claiming it as his. While ever he was doing so, there was a death penalty hanging over all of the Starks. That thought alone was enough to turn Lyanna's smile back to her usual stoic mannerisms.

The horses stood for a while, until their group heard the thundering of more horses, and soon they all saw another group riding over the hill, the banners of House Bolton flowing in the wind. Initially, Lyanna felt intimidated, the sight of their horses making her feel ever so slightly scared, until she remembered her time in the East, and how she'd ridden with the Dothraki  and the Second Sons, and made them her allies. If she could handle those, these were just minor inconveniences. 

"You don't have to be here for this," Jon spoke up, looking over at Sansa. Lyanna moved her horse closer to her sister's in a gesture of support, though with a glance over to Sansa, Lyanna could tell she was as hard as iron in that moment. 

"Yes I do," despite her hard front, Sansa's words came out softly, and Lyanna could hear her breath catch in her throat ever so slightly as Ramsay rode into sight. 

As Ramsay's party neaed closer, the horses slowing down to stop across from them, Lyanna finally got her first look at the man. He looked northern, that's for sure, with a hard jaw and dark hair, his pale eyes as piercing as the cold weather he was fighting away with his thick furs. He wore an evil smirk that, upon seeing Sansa, turned into a malicious grin, and even Lyanna felt instantly intimidated about him. There was something about his smile that reminded her of Joffrey ever so slightly, though Ramsay seemed more fearsome, more dangerous. 

More dangerous than Joffrey. That scared Lyanna to death. 

"My beloved wife, I've missed you terribly," it was Ramsay who spoke up first, putting on a kind front, attempting to make his sadistic expression seem loving and welcoming.