Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines (Completed)

Stark!Reader - Never The Same

Warning- This has brief mentions of rape. If this is likely to cause you discomfort please don't read this chapter. If you ever need someone to talk to I am an impartial listener, please feel free to message me in my private messages.

A/N - This is partially based on the song 'Tourniquet' by Evanescence. I hope you enjoy it.

You stumbled through the wet mud, dragging your feet through it as best you could without sinking further into it. You ached, every inch of you crying for a bath, food, water, sleep, warmth; you were lucky to still be alive. You stumbled as you continued across the field, towards the rows and rows of tents that made up the war camp. Your body slumped into the mud, coating every inch of you and sticking what was left of your dress to your skin. At that, tears came to your eyes; you were so close and still you were hurting. You had expected that in reaching your brother's camp you would become elated; all thoughts of the pain you had been through would evaporate and you would be replaced by the old version of yourself. But it wasn't happening. This was the closest you had been to your brother in almost two years and you were still a sodden mess, your feet hard and calloused from walking so far without shoes, your hair matted where you hadn't brushed or washed it, you body battered and bruised from scrabbling through back paths and forests to avoid the people who hoped to hurt you. You had come so far and nothing had changed except you.

You pushed yourself back to your feet, continuing towards the camp as tears made messy tracks down your face, washing away the dirt that clung there in strange streaks, pristinely clean skin showing through. "Halt," a man yelled at you, stopping you in your tracks as your eyes found him, a few feet away beside one of the tents. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, though you were quite sure he wouldn't use it; you were a woman, hardly a threat to anyone. You continued on your journey, only stopping again when you reached him and he shoved you back, causing you to land on your arse in the mud.

You glared up at him, a deep growl escaping your throat, and you watched him flinch away as you dragged the back of your hand across your face, smearing the mud away just enough to be able to speak without tasting it. "If you touch me again I'll have your head," you hissed, pressing your hands into the mud again to get back to your feet and shoving him out of your way to storm further into the camp. Men scrambled out of your way as you pushed past, looking down the rows in search of anyone you recognised.

It wasn't until you were almost four rows deep that someone became familiar. His hair was as rich and curly as it had ever been, but his jaw was tighter, his body leaner. And he was storming towards you like he was ready to kill you. All sense of safety at having reached your brother escaped as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his eyes shooting daggers towards you as you came to a halt on the spot. "Who are you?" he growled; his voice was deeper than you had remembered, and the scruff on his chin made him almost look like an actual adult.

"I thought you'd remember your own sister," you huffed. "No matter how much of a mess she'd gotten herself into," you continued and his hand shifted, his mouth dropping open as he watched you move awkwardly on the spot.

"(Y/N)," he muttered, watching as you let out a small chuckle. "What the fuck happened to you?" he asked before rushing towards you, wrapping you in his arms as he had whenever you were sad as a child. He didn't seem to care that the mud, that had once coated you, was transferring to his leather tunic.

"I've been for a walk," you chuckled, shifting awkwardly in his grip.

"From King's Landing? You walked all this way?"

"I didn't have a choice," you mumbled. "Where's Mother?" you asked and he didn't answer as he pulled away, yanking you along by your elbow and dragging you into a tent with no explanation.