Temporary Chambers of Visenya & Tywin, West Wing - Winterfell, The North — 7 days after the Big Battle
Seven days had passed ever since the Night King had been defeated.
Seven days since Jaime brought in an injured and unconscious Visenya.
Seven days of the Lion Pride keeping guard next to her, waiting for the day she would wake up.
Tywin was, as per usual, the one by her side. Ever since Oberyn's visit, he had allowed others to also come as he left for a few minutes to get something to eat, but he was the one spending most time by the side of his wife.
He stood with his back turned, arms behind him while his golden-flecked green eyes were looking outside.
The winter was still upon them but it was not the harsh and cold season they had suffered for months. The weather was getting warmer with each passing day, the sun was out more and everyone knew spring would eventually come.
The courtyard was buzzing with life, men of all occupations and lands mixing with one another like long-lost friends. The arguments and the hostility between them had mostly disappeared, the grief and the near-death experience having brought them closer.
The Old Lion never truly believed he would see such a day and now all he could do was silently scoff at the sight. While he did enjoy moments of peace, hard life had taught him to expect the worst; since one way or another, it would come.
Of course, that could not be said about Visenya.
His wife was always more optimistic and she would feel proud, to know that somehow her hard work paid off; and the realms were united, to a certain extent.
It was the 7th day of her 'sleeping' and should be the last day, according to the Maester, who had taken care of her. If she was not to wake up by the time the sun would set, it was quite certain that she never would.
Her wounds had healed rather well and her skin had yet to grow a sickly white, which was the only good sign Tywin could see. The scars on her face were still fresh and quite visible while her arm was bandaged, the bone taking most of its time to heal.
While his attention was focused outside and his mind occupied by thoughts, he was still vigilant of what was happening in the room.
So when he was certain he heard the tiniest of sounds, he turned his head towards the direction of the bed.
Visenya had started to stir awake slowly and he wasted no time to cover the distance with long strides and sit by her side.
The Dragoness opened her eyes slowly, feeling them rather heavy and... odd. One eyelid felt way heavier than the other and her vision was quite blurry, though it had started to slowly clear as her brain started to focus on things.
She caught movement by her side and barely had the strength to move her sore neck and turn her head. As more and more details became clearer, she could not help but offer a weak smile once she realized she was staring straight at Tywin.
His one hand was holding hers and as her senses were slowly waking up, she could feel the roughness of his palm against her skin. She barely managed to move her fingers and as if he knew, she interlocked them with his.
"Easy, Visenya," he told her, seeing that she was trying to push herself.
As it had happened with her miscarriage, her body would take a few moments to fully wake up. Her vision, speech and senses would be the first but movement would come slower; since she had been lying motionless for 7 days straight.
She opened her lips to speak but her throat was dry, making it hard for her. He used his free hand to grab a nearby goblet with water and let her take a few sips before placing it away.
"…Tywin… what…" she tried to say but her body was still recovering.
"Still in Winterfell. You injured yourself during the battle and had been unconscious for half a fortnight," he explained, his thumb gently caressing her skin.
He kept watching her, once again having come so close to losing her and this time; he did not truly hide it. While still angry at her for risking her life like that, he could not show it; not at that moment.
His anger and frustration had long been drowned by the feeling of relief, of seeing her finally awake and responsive. He did not say anything else, too busy just checking her with his eyes; hiding the fear that she would just pass out again and then lose her for good.
"…so… we won…?" she asked, keeping that weak smile on her lips.
Tywin felt the need to roll his eyes as her very first question was whether they had won or not. Always battle-oriented, he thought with some mild amusement.
He nodded his head, humming faintly to give his response to her question as she was slowly waking up more and more. He could see the very faint movement beneath the fur blankets, a sign that she was trying to move her body or at least check that she had all her limbs.
"Don't tire yourself. You have been unconscious for too long," he reminded her, while he was also offering reassurance that she had not lost any hands or legs.
He took notice of a Lannister guard that had heard him talk and moved to check in.
"What are you waiting for? Summon the Maester," he ordered, not hiding his annoyance at just seeing the man standing there like a statue when his lady had finally woken up after all those days.
Inner Courtyard, Winterfell, The North - Around the Same Time
Time had passed ever since that terrible and nightmarish battle had been over and some were still recovering from their physical but also emotional wounds.
Trystan had his arm bandaged and he still had trouble lifting heavy objects with it but the Maester had told him, it was only temporary and he should recover soon enough.
Jaime had an injury on his leg but he had been fighting it like a champ, barely showing any signs that it was annoying him. Yet again, he had managed to survive after having his hand cut off and infected; so one should not be surprised.
A lot of good men had been lost at that war, their bodies having been burnt and their names holding the highest of honour.
While many moved on, focusing on the new companions they had met and fought side by side; a few had been rather grim when it came to their mood.
With Visenya still unconscious, those who truly knew and cared for her; could not truly enjoy the passing days. Keeping themselves busy with work or pretty much anything, had helped keep their minds in check and prevent thinking of the worst-case scenarios.
On the 7th day, the two Lion Brothers had been sitting on some crates and barrels; accompanied by Tormund, some Free Folk and some young Lords of different houses. Many of their peers had lost their fathers in combat, making them the next heirs of their house.
That was a title the two Lions understood better than anyone and it was perhaps, what had helped build this new kind of friendship between them; if one could call it that.
They were all taking a break, after helping with restorations; since the castle and its gates had taken quite the damage. A pouch of wine was being passed between them, an easy-talking subject being discussed with Tormund, as always, on the lead.
Suddenly, the sound of steps against the wooden bridge was heard and they all turned their heads towards the source of it; curious of who was running and why. They took notice of a young boy, one of the squires for the Lannister brothers; having survived after being placed into the tunnels with the others.
The boy, not a day older than five and ten, was out of breath by the time he managed to reach them. Yet, he did not wait to fully get the much-needed oxygen in his lungs before he spread the news.
"…She is awake… Lady Lannister is awake…" he said, trying to say everything in one go.
In the very next second, Trystan had jumped so quickly up that he almost lost his balance. Jaime followed next, taking a few seconds longer due to the stiffness and annoyance coming from his wounded leg.
By the time the older of the Lion brothers had managed to start running, the Half-Lion was sprinting towards the steps. In his hurry, he almost slipped on a piece of ice but saved himself and rushed towards the hallway that would take him to the chambers of his parents.
Tyrion, who had been standing on a wooden bridge a few levels higher, also heard and he had almost dropped the pouch with wine that he held.
"She is awake," he exclaimed as he suddenly found he no longer was in the mood to drink.
Instead, he started to make his way towards the chambers. Not far away from him, Grey Worm had realized and had sprinted in the opposite direction; knowing that his Queen would also want to be informed and go meet her aunt.
Guest Chambers for Visenya & Tywin, West Wing - Winterfell, The North
Tywin had been silently sitting next to his wife, holding her hand but none spoke; for there would be time for it later. She kept that weak smile on her lips, trying to ignore the mild annoyance coming from her face or the sharp pain-like feeling from one of her arms.
Suddenly, the sound of steps reached them and Tywin gently pulled his hand away. By the moment he had managed to stand up, his two sons had reached the entrance of the chambers.
Their eyes landed on the form of their mother, lying on bed but being fully awake. Her one eye was still closed, injured by the attack but her other was shining with energy and life; as if she had not been at the Stranger's door for a while.
"Mother," the two lions exclaimed, rushing towards her.
"…I hope you two… were not mourning me… already…" she said, her voice a little hoarse but she was getting more and more control over her body and vocal cords.
Trystan moved to be by the same side his father was, sitting at the same place he had a few moments ago and holding her good hand.
Jaime appeared by his side but remained standing. He dared to lean forward a little bit but not sit down, for he did not wish for her to see him injured and get worried. Even his brother had his bandaged arm hidden beneath his clothes and was using his good hand to hold hers.
"You have no idea how much you worried us," Jaime said, feeling like a dream to see her awake.
How many nights did he wake up on his own, thinking that someone was knocking on his door to tell him that she had woken up at last? How many times did he spend in the room with her, looking at her form and expecting to see her opening her eyes; a sign that she was once again amongst the living?
"How are you feeling, mother?" Trystan dared to ask, studying her silently.
Her one eye refused to open, the scars and injuries running deep there, but they had been warned of it by the Maester. Her one arm lay motionless by her side, resting on a pillow and was slowly healing while the other hand he was holding; was faintly flexing its fingers, a sign that there was no damage there.
"A terrible headache…" she started, having not been informed of the wound she carried on her face. "And soreness… but alive…" she reassured him, her smile growing just a tad more at the sight of her sons.
Both had survived the battle, both stood strong by her side and were happy to see her alive. She felt at ease, knowing that both had made it and she could not wait to see who else had survived; mentally praying that she had not lost anyone else than Ser Barristan and Kevan.
"Mother… Ser Barristan and Uncle Kevan…" Jaime started, deciding to let her know; earning a sharp warning glare from his father, who clearly did not like how he was ready to stir her up moments after she had been awake.
To the surprise of many, she did not react to the news.
"…I know…" was her reply, a sad smile on her lips.
"You do?" Trystan could not help but ask next, blinking a few times.
His mother had been unconscious for 7 days, unresponsive and he doubted anyone had been talking to her about the ones they lost at battle; for her to know. Not that he expected his unresponsive comatose mother somehow to be able to hear others talking next to her.
"…Can't exactly explain…"
Just then, a new person entered the room and everyone's gaze fell on them.
Oberyn stood by the door, slightly out of breath; for he had been running to see her, ever since he heard the news. His eyes fell on her form, seeing that unique and mesmerizing eye of hers looking at him and a smile appeared on his face.
"Welcome back, Princess," he said with his accent, marching slowly her way but choosing to stand at the other side of the bed.
He could feel the sharp gaze of Tywin but surprisingly, the Old Lion did not make any move to stop or even kick him out. He remained standing, close to his wife and was merely watching him; no one ever to know of the discussion the two of them had in private, just a few days ago.
It took Visenya days to recover, at least to the point that she could move her body and even get up from the bed. With proper food and rest, she was quickly regaining her strength while Tywin was by her side every single second of those passing days.
She had reunited with everyone in one way or another, many relieved and happy to see her standing and even walking; despite her injury or the fact that she was in a coma for 7 days.
She had also been informed of what the Maester had told them, going as far as to see herself in a mirror. The claw mark on her face was the most prominent one, still a faint pinkish red that stood out due to her pale skin.
It was the left side of her face that had taken most of the damage, with three claws having dug deep into her skin. While healed and not infected, they were still visible, with one scar passing over her eyebrow and her eye.
Her left eye had been deeply injured and was unresponsive to her, vision from it long lost and unable to recover. It was nasty and it did take her some extra time to get used to walking with vision from only one eye since she could no longer see what was on her left.
Thankfully for her, both Tywin and the boys had been walking by her left until she got the hang of it; working both as guides but also as barriers to protect her against any objects she could not see.
Her right arm remained broken and the healing time was long, often leaving Visenya with moments of sharp pain coming from it. She had broken ribs and twisted ankles but surprisingly, she had never broken an arm or a leg.
She could still move her fingers but most of the time her hand was held in a slingshot diagonally across her chest, letting it rest there and recover. As for the fact that she might never use that hand again to fight… she still needed time to accept that part of the situation.
Great Hall, Winterfell — The North, Westeros - 5 Days Since Visenya Woke Up
Once she was up and walking, getting stronger by each passing day; one last thing had to be done… her trial.
She had not forgotten about it and refused to let Tywin smuggle her in secret in the middle of the night. She had given her word to be present and she was not one to break it. In addition, she was a Dragon and dragons never ran away from any challenge or tough situation.
She was ready to face the Stark children and listen to their verdict. While she was ready to lose her head if sentenced guilty, her family was not.
Trystan, to her surprise, had already told her that he was ready to become her champion in a Trial by Combat.
Of course, Oberyn had also offered his talents and even Jaime was willing to do so.
They were not the only ones, for Visenya picked up word that many loyal soldiers from her house and others would stand up for her as her champion if she asked them. It was a sweet thing to hear and one that made her feel rather thankful.
Now, would she choose a trial by combat? She was not sure yet but a big part of her was telling her not to. She did not wish to risk the lives of anyone else, let alone that of her son or her friend; in order to save her head.
She did not voice those thoughts of course, for she knew she would get negative reactions from the males in her life.
At long last, the time arrived and Visenya stood in the middle of the Great Hall. By her left and right, the tables had been pushed to the side and Lords Paramount, the Lion Pride, the Dornish Prince, Tormund and others had occupied all the chairs.
Across from her, the main table was occupied by the four Stark children that were facing her; each with a different reaction on their faces.
She stood alone and yet proud in the middle of the room, dressed in her usual sparing/riding clothes. The only extra part on her was the white eye patch, covering her injured left eye and a small part of the scars on her face and the headband Oberyn had made for her; it was its own version of a crown.
The only good thing that had come out that day, was the fact that Jaime was not going to be trialed. Somehow, after talking with her once again, Visenya managed to persuade Daenerys not to go after Jaime; considering the nature of her father in his latest years.
Now, the only one left to be trialed...was the Dragoness herself.
"Lady Visenya," Sansa started, being right in the middle and directly across from her. "You stand here accused of being the mastermind behind the Red Wedding that took the lives of our brother, our mother and dozens of Northern Lords. Do you deny it?"
Visenya kept her head high.
"No, I do not," was her answer. "I came up with the idea of having Robb Stark killed at his wedding but I did not order the massacre that took place" she continued, choosing to remind everyone last time the truth behind the incident.
"Yet, it was your security that gave the courage to Lord Frey to act such a way," Sansa commented.
Her face was passive and cold, her voice not once shaking. Her chin was held high and she looked like a true Northern Queen sitting in the chair of her Father. She had been hurt when she found out the truth.
Visenya had been kind to her, looking after her while in King's Landing. One might call her naive but Sansa knew the Dragoness never faked any of those moments. It was perhaps, why the revelation had hurt so much but also why she had not directly attacked her with words or accusations.
She understood that it was war and that her orders were not followed, but that did not mean she could so easily forgive; not when many Northern Lords requested justice to be served.
She kept looking at the tall woman, who carried her latest injuries with pride; serving as a reminder of the sacrifice she made to help them all in this big battle. She could feel Trystan's gaze on her profile but she did not turn to acknowledge him, for she knew she would find it hard to keep her facade if she did.
Arya was sitting by her side, impossible for one to read her thoughts or her emotions. She kept looking at Visenya but there was no hate in her dark brown eyes, despite what had taken place. An imprint of a hand was visible around her neck, a mark left by the Night King that might or might not disappear from her skin; that was something no one knew yet.
"However, it has lately been confirmed that your words have been true," Sansa said, after having left everyone in a minute-long silence. "Lord Frey and Lord Bolton acted beyond your orders, orchestrating the massacre that took place at the Twins."
Visenya glanced at Bran, who had the same impassive look on his face.
Yet, as their eyes locked; somehow she knew that he used his abilities to see into the past and confirmed that piece of information.
The question, though, remained...would that be enough?
She focused back on Sansa, faintly stealing glances at a silent brooding Jon Snow. Rhaegar's words were still fresh in her mind. She could faintly see some parts of her nephew in him but the strong Northern colours did not help make the connection, at least not as easy as one might have hoped.
"Lord Frey and Lord Bolton are both dead," Sansa continued. "However, the North remembers and the North requests justice to be served either way," she explained, making many hold their breath. "You are found guilty of giving the initial order and giving the power to those two men to act in such a way. You are to be given half a fortnight to recover and gather your men. Afterwards, you are to leave the North and never step foot here again. If you are found within the Northern Territory, you will be executed."
Her words had left many speechless since none expected such punishment for the crimes. Many thought of the worst, expecting that Sansa would sentence Visenya to death one way or another.
If one looked around the room, they would notice that some Northern Lords were not really happy; for they wished to see Lannister blood staining the snow as payback for what happened to Robb and Catelyn.
The majority of the crowd, especially the allies of the Dragoness; were relieved by the news. An exile from the North was a rather small price to pay, for almost none truly aimed to return to the frozen wastelands.
Given half a fortnight to gather her men and also recover some more, was too generous and while some were surprised by it; no one dared to speak up and argue against the Lady of Winterfell.
"I understand," Visenya said, nodding her head faintly. "Thank you."
She said nothing else nor did she show any emotion on her face, for it was not proper of her to do so in such a situation. However, deep within her chest, she could feel the relief of knowing she was not about to be put to the sword.
She was ready for it, that was true, but something about having a second chance with her loved ones was far stronger. She did not have to glance to her right where her allies and family sat, to know they shared her feelings and some showed it more than others.
What mattered now, was the fact that everything was over. They were safe, they were alive and they had 7 days before they would depart for their homes; leaving behind all the darkness, the cold and the loss they suffered all those days.