"Elia?" the shaky voice of Oberyn Martell broke it. Elia Martell turned confused eyes to her brother and smiled at the familiar face. The man rushed to her and enveloped her in a hug so tight the wind was squeezed out of her.
"Brother, she's going to pass out" Doran Martell said and Elia's eyes went to her older brother. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Doran what happened to you?!" the woman asked in fright.
"Sickness sister" Doran smiled, reaching out and grasping her hand. Elia's eyes did not leave her older brother, now bound to a chair and holding her hand. She knew about Doran's gout, but how could it have gotten so fast so quick? How did it make him older? Now that she noticed, even Oberyn looked older than she remembered.
Similar expressions of confusion were on the faces of the rest of the people who were brought in, all of them reuniting with their families. For some of them, it was meeting old faces, while for others it was seeing new faces. Like Tyrion for example, who was meeting his mother for the first time.
"I will give you some time to talk amongst yourselves, help your loved ones catch up with what's happening ones catch up with what's happening and what happened to them. I will be back soon."
And with that, the man vanished in a burst of light.
*House Martell*
Elia heard the man speak and winced when he vanished. She turned to her brothers, her gaze alone being enough to convey the question, what the fuck was happening.
"You died Elia" Oberyn answered her, not one for tact and being blunt. Doran threw his brother an annoyed glare.
It all came back to her with those words, Aerys finding her before she could run away, holding her hostage so Dorne would fight for the Targaryens, the Lannisters invading the capital, the Mountain killing her son and then raping her.
Her knees buckled and Oberyn caught her before she fell.
"I'll avenge your death, I swear it Elia I will avenge you and your children"
Oberyn swore.
"No!" Elia's wide eyes went to her younger brother. She knew exactly what her brother would do for her, and she did not want him to chase the Mountain of all things. "Promise me you will do no such thing Oberyn."
"Elia-"
"No! Promise me!"
Oberyn stared at her in disgruntlement.
*House Lannister*
The last thing Joanna remembered was the sharp pain of being cut open. She was giving birth and the child was not coming out right. She had promised her children that she would come back with a sibling when her labours began, that she would introduce them to their brother or sister herself and that they'd be a big happy family together. Her children who now stood before her as adults.
She recognized Jaime easily. How could she not? He was tall, golden-haired and handsome like his father was at that age, but he had softer eyes, her eyes.
And beside him stood a stunted little thing with stubby fingers and a jutting forehead. One of his mismatching eyes was green while the other was black. His hair was thin, fair and flaxen, so blonde they appeared almost white with some strands of black hair. Could this be the child she was carrying? The one she died birthing?
"Mother" Jaime's soft whimper broke her out of her thoughts and she almost fell back when her grown son tackled her into a hug. Immediately she wrapped her arms around him when she felt him shake against her.
"You've grown so much" the woman whispered, making Jaime shake harder. Mother and son remained in their embrace for a while longer before finally parting. She immediately cupped his face and took a long hungry look at him.
"You've grown into such a handsome man" she whispered, tears in her eyes.
Jaime smiled at his mother, whose face he had almost forgotten in the years.
His father refused to keep any paintings of her up after her death, only the gods knew where he stored them. Through the years he had tried to look for it in Cersei, but she did not look like her in the slightest.
Wiping his eyes he took a step back and motioned to Tyrion. "Mother, meet Tyrion. Your youngest."
Tyrion stepped forward to meet his mother, a modicum of hope garnering in his chest. His father despised him and it was no secret to him. But his mother, he'd always imagined that she would love him. She died birthing him after all, what mother wouldn't love their child, even one as ugly as him?
But all that hope turned to ashes when he looked up at his mother and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. She did not know whether to love him or not. He swallowed the hurt from that look and simply bowed his head.
"Mother" he greeted her with the same carelessness as he did his father.
*House Stark*
All Lyanna Stark remembered was blood, pain and warmth. She remembered the pain of birthing, the blood that coated her, and the warmth she felt when Ned finally arrived and she got to hold her son. Ned stood before her now as well, but he was no longer the same Ned she knew. He was older for one thing, much older than her brother Brandon or her father. Both of them seemed to be in equal shock at seeing their family member.
"Father... Brandon... Lyanna" Ned muttered before pulling all three into a tight hug. He was stronger now, his hugs a lot firmer than Lyanna remembered. Yet it was just as warm, just as comforting.
"What the fuck happened Ned?" Brandon asked, his voice unusually unsteady. Lyanna didn't blame him. All of this was too shocking to remain steady.
Ned explained what happened to each of them. Lyanna felt herself getting sick at hearing what happened after she ran with Rhaegar, how Brandon and her father died. Her death did not make her as sick or as worried. She'd lived it already and came to terms with it before she closed her eyes for the final time. Well, she supposed it wasn't the final time if she was blinking right now.
"So you're Lord of Winterfell now? Warden of the North?" Rickard asked. Lyanna could hear the relief in her father's voice, but at the same time, she noticed the slightest of doubts. He hadn't prepared Ned to rule after him, and that worried the man.
Ned seemed to notice it too.
"And a damn good one!" a boisterous voice broke in and Lyanna saw the disappointment in Ned's eyes vanish.
Lyanna turned to see who had spoken and it took her a moment to realize who this man was.
Robert Baratheon, fat Robert Baratheon.
She had not expected to see this in all her life.
But then again she was dead so she shouldn't be too surprised.
"He's taken to the role of Lord and Warden quite well, Lord Rickard" Jon Arryn spoke with a smile, "and he's done well in service to the crown."
The worry did not leave her father's eyes.
Lyanna wanted to say something to her father, to tell him off for being in disbelief. But she couldn't because Robert was staring at her like he was seeing a ghost, pale-faced but emotional.
"Lyanna-"