The Finding of Lya Stark

Father's

A/N: I don't own Game of Thrones or any of the characters except the ones I create. I posted this story under the same name on another site but thought I'd try out this site as well.

"Lya!" my father calls. "See to it that the guests rooms are taken care of properly."

"Yes, Father," I say. Anyone who had been their the previous night had either left for their journeys, or had stumbled away somewhere. I take fresh sheets from the storage room, and going through the rooms, I strip the beds putting on new sheets. I hang the blankets to air out, and then carry the dirty clothes outside.

I fill a small tub with warm water and soak all the sheets together. I spend the next hour washing them, and then hanging them on the clothesline. When they are all hanging up to dry, I fill a smaller tub with water and carry it up the stairs. I take a rag, and wash all the floors and tables bringing any dirty dishes I find down to the kitchen as I go.

"Lya, lunch time!" I bring the water down and empty it out. I sit at the table with Father and eat the cheese and bread he had cut for me. When I'm done, my belly grumbles with hunger but I dare not say a word about it.

"I will start my afternoon chores, Father," I say standing as he comes in.

"I need you to deliver a message for me instead," he hands me a small sack. "One to the baker, one to the whorehouse, one to the windmill. Got it?"

"Yes, Father," I take it slinging it over my back. I run over to my horse and pull myself up onto her back. I gallop away fighting the whoop that wishes to escape at my moments of freedom.

I rush back feeling the coins in my pocket jingling as I go. I can't help but smile knowing I get to keep them. As I approach our inn, I see several horses in the yard. I slow to a walk and go around the house. "Lya!" my father calls. "Bring in the laundry."

"Ok!" I call over to him. I got down and lead her into her stable. I walk over and take the laundry down folding it as I go. I bring it into the pantry and put them on the shelves with the other sheets. I head out to the room. "Father, would you like help?"

Everyone turns to look at me and I blush despite myself. "No, you have other stuff you have to finish."

"But there are five of them. Are you sure?"

"What is your name girl?"

"Lya," I say stepping forward. "Can I be of service?" the men laugh except one.

His eyes find mine and something dark passes through them. "You could come sit on me lap," one of them says.

"Come here, girl," the man says. I sense my father hovering nearby, and as I stand next to him I can feel the small dagger hidden by my leg aware of it's exact placement. He examines me. "Who is your mother?"

"She passed My Lord."

"I am terribly sorry. And this here? This is your father?"

"Yes."

"Carry on."

"Go milk the cows," my father speaks up. I listen feeling troubled. On my way to the barn I move my bow and arrow so that I can grab it easily if I run outside. It doesn't take long to milk the two cows we have, bringing the milk in, in a bucket.

"Lya," the man says standing. "Come here girl," I put the cream down in a corner out of the way and approach him again. He continues to look me in the eye and I feel myself blushing. "Tell her," he suddenly says.

I look to my father who looks like he's ready to cry. One of the men stand drawing his sword. I gasp staring at it. He turns towards my father. I bend yanking my dagger out standing in front of my father. "What are you doing?" I demand.

"You're father has something to tell you. Something important. Come here old man," he walks to them trembling. I try to stop him but he won't. "Go on, tell her."

"I- I am not your father. I don't know who is. A group of men said that they had kidnapped you and were going to sell you. I took you and hid you in the middle of the night."

I look at him utterly confused. "What? You're lying. This can't be true."

"We believe it is. I believe-," I move my father shoving him behind me startling the man with his sword out. I kick him hard in the shin, and then knock his sword to the ground. I am struggling against them and so is my father when I watch a sword plunge through his stomach.

"No!" I scream wrenching from their grasp. I duck past them and run out the door scooping up my bow and arrows as I go by. I bring my mare out and pull myself up galloping away. I tangle a fist in her mane to hold on.

It is getting dark, and still they have not caught up to me. I'm cold but I don't dare stop for too long. Silver, my horse is plodding along at her own pace. I allow her to stop and get drinks or eat as she feels fit, but I don't dare stop to feed my growling stomach. It's getting hard to keep my eyes open, so I lean forward resting my head.

I start awake hearing hoof beats, and sit up. I draw my bow and arrow, and then I'm surrounded by all five of them. I turn circles watching them. "Lya," the man says. "I am Eddard of House Stark. My daughter was taken from me sixteen years ago, just as you were taken in by the innkeeper."

"You killed him!" I say.

"He would have killed us. I am sorry for your loss, really. I didn't mean for it to go that way. It's time you come home."

"I don't want to come home. I belong at the inn running it."

"No, you don't. You belong at Winterfell."

"What if I don't come with you?"

"Where will you go? At least come north with me, meet your family, and then make your decision."

"Fine. But I won't be staying. I'll find something to do. But first, we must bury his body."

"Fine. Take her reigns."

"I am not some high lady, or whatever. I need none. Besides do you know where we are?" the lone cry of a panther fills the woods. "I thought not," I turn and they part following me. I trot and we arrive back at the inn by morning.