Little Dragon - Game of Thrones

18

Three days passed until Lyla woke. After that, Lyla spent two weeks in an almost catatonic state. While she had begun to move around more, she hadn't said a word about what had happened, or hardly anything at all. The whole city was rushing about, given a month to gather their belongings and evacuate to the Riverland.

Lyla lowered herself off her bed, dressing herself slowly. She walked over to the door. Her hands hovered over the handle, unsure of whether or not she wanted to make her way down to the dining hall. After several anxious moments, Lyla pulled open the door, making her way to the hall as fast as she could.

She peeked into the room, seeing Daenerys, Jon, Jorah, Sansa, and Tyrion discussing.

"How nice of you to join us, Lyla." Daenerys smiled at her sweetly. Lyla nodded at her, sitting down near the five and getting a piece of bread from a basket. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept alright." That was a lie. She didn't sleep at all, she was too afraid to sleep in fear of the Others coming in the night. But how in the world they would get past the wall was what Lyla kept reassuring herself with.

"My king," A soldier entered. "There are men from the night's watch here to see you, they say it's urgent." Jon nodded to send them in, and the soldier let in a large man with fiery red hair and a big beard. Another man with a black cloak and black hair with a bit of facial hair followed.

"Edd, Tormund." Jon greeted the two with a confused look, unsure of why they were there.

"You need to leave Winterfell." Edd warned. He had a horrified look in his eyes, he must have seen something at the wall.

"We are evacuating in about a fortnight." Jon reassured.

"You don't understand, the dead managed to get past the wall!" He spoke urgently.

"How?"

"The Others climbed up on giant white spiders, just like in the stories." Edd shuddered at the thought. "They killed most of us, and let the dead through the tunnel. We traveled back as fast as we could, taking as many towns here with us."

"How many people came?"

"Around seventy."

Lyla left the room, feeling unqualified to be a part of that kind of conversation. She walked out to the courtyard of Winterfell, looking around at the bustling people, men sharpening weapons, women comforting their crying babes, and children laughing and playing, oblivious to the dire situation.

"Lyla," She heard Arya call from beside her. Lyla looked over at her sister. Arya and Lyla had never been very close, despite their similarities. Their reunion was dull, awkward, and tense. "Come meet my friend, you'll like him." Begrudgingly, Lyla went over to her sister.

A large man with a scarred face towered over her. Lyla halted her steps before she got too close, fearful that he would attack her.

"Hello...?" Lyla said hesitantly. The man grunted.

"This is why you fucking dragged me over here?" He grumbled. "Little cunt is skinner than you at her age." Rage bubbled in Lyla, and she kicked her leg up into his shin. He didn't even flinch.

"This is the Hound, Sandor Clegane." Arya introduced. Lyla kicked her leg up to hit him again, but he grabbed her ankle, lifting her up.

"Put me down!" Lyla demanded.

"Would you stop kicking me?" Sandor asked her, and Lyla huffed.

"Yes, I'll stop. Just put me down." Lyla sighed with relief as he set her back down in her feet. She stormed off, angry at the man and slightly humiliated by the embarrassing situation.

Sorry, kinda lame chapter, I've been having a little trouble building up things and it's a little tricky to write my own version of the ending because I'm afraid it'll be bad. Anyways, thank you guys so much for 3k reads! Hope you guys enjoy!