TW - Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Overbearing grief

When Alyarra Stark learned of Aemond Targaryen's demise, she laughed. A maniacal laugh, an unstable laugh, a shocked laugh, an unhinged laugh. She looked to her brother and just laughed, for minutes on end she laughed. She did not ask how, in fact— she did not speak at all.

Alyarra simply laughed.

Cregan would hug her tightly, rubbed her back as she laughed uncontrollably. Her mind was blank, all that she did was laugh in a manic, frantic way. She did not even process anything, she barely even registered what Cregan had said.

She laughed until no more sound came out of her throat, until she began bawling uncontrollably.

Dead. Death. Aemond. Dead.

The words were hard for her to understand, but when she finally processed what her brother had told her— she let out piercing screams and loud sobs. An endless loop of wailing sounds.

"Aly-" She cut him off by standing up from his embrace. Cregan was confused as he watched her head to her balcony. Alyarra could not breathe, she could not think— she could not be, not without him.

She rushed to her balcony as fast as she could before Cregan could stop her, and without thinking— she rushed to the stone ledge.

Cregan let out a loud horrified scream of anguish as he darted to his sister. She was going to throw herself off her balcony. Alyarra got up on the stone wall, and without another thought— without even looking down, she took a leap to her demise.

Alyarra Stark closed her eyes when she lept from her balcony, expecting to hit the ground with a devastating splat— but it never came as her brother had grabbed her waist, preventing her from leaping to her death.

Both of their bodies fell backwards into the balcony's gravel with much force, Alyarra landing on top of her brother. Cregan held on to her for dear life, he was avidly crying as she thrashed in his arms. She just wanted to die, to join Aemond, because she could not be herself without him.

"Alyarra, stop! Please!" He exclaimed as he tried dragging her back inside her rooms, but she only screamed and cried— trying to free herself from her brother's saving grasp. "I want to die! Please! I want to die!" She cried uncontrollably, scratching at his arms, trying to get him to let her go.

Cregan wouldn't let her go though. He was holding on to her as if her life depended on it, because it did. He managed to stand up and drag her back inside her chambers, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

Alyarra kicked and screamed like her life depended on it, she felt like she could barely breathe. Like her life was ending, like her world was imploding. It was all coming to a head at once.

How could she live without Aemond? How could she be well without him? How could she raise Baelon without his help? She could not. Cregan dropped her down on her bed and sat down with her. "Please breathe, Aly. Please, you have to breathe." Cregan pleaded with his sister, he feared for her unborn baby. This stress could not be any good. Cregan stood up hastily from the bed and rushed to the door.

"Somebody get the maester! Help me! Help!" His screams echoed through the Winterfell castle, causing his guards to run rampant in search of the maester. Cregan went back inside her bedchamber, watching over his crying sister, his heart breaking at the sight.

Soon thereafter the Winterfell maester, Theelyn, barged into Alyarra's chambers. "What is the meaning of this?" He questioned Cregan, though he fell quiet when he saw the Stark woman's unhinged crying form. "She's with child! This distress will make her lose it!" Cregan said as he paced the rooms frantically.

The maester's eyes widened, and he instantly left the chambers— letting Cregan know he would be back as soon as possible.

Alyarra sobbed uncontrollably as her mind worked overtime trying to decipher what had happened. How did her husband die? Why would be leave her and Baelon? How would she go on without his protection? "No..." She cried, her head was pounding and her eyes were bloodshot red from all of her crying. "No..." She cried.

Cregan stared at his sister with a solemn expression on his face. He had no idea how to make it all better. How did he comfort her? He knew that all he could do now was take care of her and her children, like he should have been doing from the very beginning.

The maester barged back in with freshly made milk of the poppy, passing it to Cregan— who in turn rushed to his sister. He grabbed the back of her head and brought the goblet to her lips forcefully, causing Alyarra to whimper backwards in reaction. "No!" She screamed, her hands flying to scratch at Cregan's face ferally. Last time she had milk of the poppy to ease her emotions, she was taken advantage of.

"Aly, please! You must! Think of your babe! You may lose it if you do not calm down, please!" Cregan pleaded with her, his grip tightening around the back of her head to hold her steady as he brought the poppy milk to her mouth once more. She shook her head, but ultimately gave in, drinking the entirety of the contents of the goblet.

Cregan sighed in relief as he watched Alyarra calm down with each passing minute. He ordered the maester out and sat down on the chair in the corner of her room. He watched as his sister fell into a numb state and then as she slowly shut her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

Cregan did not move from his stance, he remained sitting there— watching over her as she slept. She had been through so much, but now her suffering would be over— he would make sure of it. He would take care of her like he had promised his father on his deathbed.

He would be the good brother he had failed to be.

-

When Alyarra rose from her deep poppy milk induced slumber, she had almost forgotten about what had happened to Aemond. But as she sat up in her bed, and she looked to see Cregan watching her intently from a seat in her bedchamber— she remembered the fate of her lover.

Instantly she began bawling, burying her face in her hands. How could this be? This could not be true. Aemond could not be dead. Cregan rushed to comfort her and engulf her in a tight hug, his own eyes watering at the brokenness of his sweet sister.

Cregan held her steady as she cried, caressing her back— trying to soothe her pain, but nothing would ever work. After a few minutes, Alyarra pulled away, looking up at Cregan with teary and solemn eyes. "W-Creg-W-W-What happened to him? What happened to him? W-Wha..." She could barely form a coherent setence.

Cregan did not want to tell her, but he could not keep that sort of information from Alyarra.

"There was a dragon battle above the God's Eye... twas between him and Daemon. The s-s-the scroll said that they both fought to the death... plummeted to the lake, both of them." Cregan explained it just as he was informed on the scroll he had received.

Alyarra remained unmoving. Daemon killed her husband? Daemon bested Aemond? She broke down crying, then Cregan pulled her into a hug once more. "This can not be, Cregan... Vhagar... she's bigger than Caraxes. How could he have bested Aemond?" Alyarra questioned as she cried into her brother's shoulders.

"He leaped from his dragon... Impaled his one remaining eye with Dark Sister..." Cregan whispered solemnly, and the next sounds heard were painful screams of utter grief. She did not want to live if Aemond wasn't around to guide her.

Cregan pulled away from his sister and watched as she bawled her heart out. It hurt him to see her like that, especially over someone like Aemond Targaryen. His sister had only known suffering since she wed him, he hoped— longed for her to realize that this was a blessing in disguise, though he would never speak it out loud.

Alyarra was visibly shaking, and without any sort of warning, she turned away from Cregan and hurled all over her bed. "I-I want to... I-I can't... No... Cregan... He... I..." She was blubbering and crying uncontrollably. She felt like she would die, like she could never live without Aemond.

"Leave me..." Alyarra told her brother.

Cregan instantly shook his head, "I will not leave you, not while you're in this state." he told her. She slowly looked up at Cregan, anger apparent on her expression. "Go! Leave me alone! Leave me now!" She raged.

Cregan remained unmoving for a few seconds, but ultimately stood up from her bed.

Before leaving her bedchamber he said, "This is a good thing, sister. Soon you will see." Alyarra remained silent as she watched Cregan leave her alone.

When he closed the door, she began throwing a fit. This was all just a nightmare. She would wake up and everything would be fine, she would wake up and Aemond would be by her side.

"Why?!" She screamed as loudly as she could muster. "Why would you leave us?!" She cried.

"Why, Aemond?!" She screamed as loudly as she could as if she would get a reply back. She had spent months daydreaming of getting away from him, daydreaming of being back home— of running away. But now that he was gone, she felt unshielded, unprotected.

She remembered how he would say that no one would ever love her like he would, protect her like he would— and she feared he was right. If he was dead then who would love her?

Alyarra felt like she was slipping into madness as she remembered everything, as she thought about everything that had happened. Helaena had once said, "The dragon will suck the wolf dry from it's blood." She was right.

Alyarra was not thinking right, she was erratic, hectic— callous. She was not thinking of anything but being alone in the world without Aemond, and it frightened her.

After hours of her weeping, the sun began to set over Winterfell. All Alyarra could think of was Aemond's cold dead body sitting at the bottom of some lake with a sword through his good eye, and it endlessly made her sick to her stomach. Alyarra exited her bedchamber to find Baelon's wetnurse looking at her with a worried expression on her face as she watched over the child.

Alyarra did not acknowledge her, she simply exited her apartments to find a dozen guards standing by her door. All ordered to stand watch over her by Cregan. Alyarra began to slowly walk down the hall, her mind completely blank seldom for the dark image of Aemond dead at the bottom of a lake. "Lady Stark, we have orders to detain you from leaving your chambers." One of the guards said, stepping foward to block her path.

Alyarra looked up at him and took a small breath, then she gently brushed past him without another word. "Lady Stark! You must remain in your chambers, twas an order from Lord Cregan." Another guard said, but Alyarra simply continued down her path.

"Stop her," She heard a guard hiss to another.

"We shan't touch her, go and follow her. Maybe she just wants to take a stroll." One guard whispered, so as Alyarra walked— one guard trailed closely behind her.

Alyarra walked slowly yet steady down the many corridors of the Winterfell castle, a place she used to call home— a place she used to yearn to be in, yet it wasn't home. Home was Aemond. How was she so blind to see that? Now she could go anywhere she wanted, just not home.

Alyarra exited the castle through the courtyard doors, the cold freezing air of the North hitting her skin like prickling needles— but she scarcely cared. She knew this cold all too well, she grew up in it— the cold never bothered her.

Aemond gave her hell, and she did not deserve any of it— but still she would love him until her dying day, he was the only comfort she knew as of late. The only one who loved her.

"Lady Alyarra, tis too cold. You are wearing nothing but a dress! Please let us go back inside, you do not even have shoes on!" The guard that had been following her said, his hand latching on to her forearm to try and drag her back inside the warmth of the castle.

Alyarra yanked her arm back from his grasp and turned to him with anger evident on her face. "You lay a hand on me again and I make sure you lose said hand." She couldn't even recognize her own voice and the cruel words she had spewed.

"Lady Alyarra, please, you must come back inside." He pleaded once again, but Alyarra continued on walking through the snowy courtyard, and soon after she exited the castle gates and continued down the snowey field. "I am getting Lord Cregan!" The guard exclaimed and retreated back towards the castle hastily, unsure how to deal with the rougue lady.

Alyarra took a look at the guard that was now sprinting back towards the castle, and she too made a run for it— though her feet took her further away from the castle and towards the lake, the frozen lake. Soon after her feet were burning with the cold of the frozen lake ice that she was stepping on, but she couldn't care less— her feet were growing numb.

Alyarra began to weep as she made her way to the middle of the icy lake, slipping now and then. And when she reached the middle of the lake, she kneeled— crying into her hands as she thought about what she was about to do. She had to do it, she had to join him. She took deep breaths and began punching the ice under her, her knuckles splitting open and pouring out blood as she punched and gnawed at the ice.

"Alyarra!" Her brother's voice rang through the air loudly, making her turn to him. She could make out his figure on the edge of the lake, so she began pounding at the ice with even more force than before, finally breaking through and splitting open a small hole— big enough for her to fit. She stood up and gazed at the freezing cold water, so inviting— so very cold.

"No! Alyarra!" She could hear Cregan screaming as he sprinted through the frozen lake towards her, though he slipped more times than he could count. His garrison was behind him, every single man trying to reach the snow princess before she did something she regretted.

But Alyarra just wanted to join Aemond.

She hung her head as she heard her brother screaming, the sky suddenly turning black as clouds of rain rolled over Winterfell.

Without thinking of anything, not even Baelon, she jumped into the hole she had created— and into the freezing water. Her body was sugmerged completely, the cold almost burning her as she began drifting away from the hole and further under the ice.

The water filled her lungs yet she was calm as she floated underwater, she closed her eyes and thought to Aemond— she was going to join him.

It was bizarre, she was drowning, but she felt as if she could finally breathe.

She could hear shouting from above, and pounding— seemingly the guards and her brother were trying to break the ice to get to her. Alyarra opened her eyes, and she was met with her husband. It could not be.

Aemond was floating in front of her with Dark Sister impaled through his skull.

She let out a scream, but it was muffled by the water. She closed her eyes again, and then when she opened them— he was gone.

Alyarra began to freak out, pounding at the ice over her as she let out silent screams. The water was cold and rough, and it began to drag her further away from where her brother was pounding at. She was trying to resist, she flailed and kicked her legs but she could not help it— nor resist it. Fear engulfed her body at a rapid pace as she began to realize what was happening. Her child coming to mind, her sweet Baelon— and her unborn child.

She struggled for air, but she could only inhale water. So she accepted her fate. She sunk deeper into the icy freezing lake, closing her eyes as she felt herself slipping away from life and into the warmth of the unknown. And just when she thought it was all over, a saving force pulled her up out of the cold.

Alyarra coughed up water, her vision blurry as her brother's loving arms pulled her closely to
him. His guards moved to engulf her in fur as she coughed and coughed, gasping for air. Then as if in a heavenly cleanse, rain came pouring down upon them. Alyarra threw her arms around her brother, crying into his shoulders as he tried to comfort her.

Clarity dawned upon Alyarra. She was safe, she was with her brother, she was fine. The rain continued pouring down on them as Cregan carried her back to the castle. She was freezing cold, but she was good— she was fine. "I'm so sorry." She cried.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Cregan too was crying, but out of joy. He would never forgive himself if he didn't pull her back in time. The siblings held on to eachother for dear life, as if they were the only thing the other had in the world— and it was true, they were each other's family.

Cregan brought her back to her rooms, and let her down in front of the fireplace— cuddling his sister in his arms. The maesters worked hard to make her hot tea and stew, and Alyarra gladly took everything they gave her. She wanted to be better for her son, and for her unborn babe.

Alyarra stared at the flame that burned within the fireplace, her mind going to her dead husband.

His love was cruel, his love was unforgiving, he crossed many lines, he hurt her more than anyone in the world— and he never understood her. She had trusted many wicked people, but now she was in the hands of her brother.

In the hands of good. Gone was any trace of Aemond Targaryen, and Alyarra Stark was finally free.