LYANNA

Lyanna Targaryen did not recognize the feeling overwhelming her whole body and soul. The only time she'd ever something similar was when she'd heard of the dreadful end to her father and brother's lives. Burned alive, slow and painful, until their bodies were nothing but grey pierced through her chest, straight into her heart – they died because of her, because she was a woman who'd loved a man she shouldn't.

She'd loved, only for her heart to shattered into million pieces upon hearing that the prince had fallen, that she would no longer hear his beautiful voice, or lay on his arms. The man that she wanted to stand at the end of the world, gone.

A strong wave of pain burned deep in her chest, lingered for a while, only to be overcome by the one sensation stronger than her pain There it was, warmness that she had no words to describe, spreading through her chest as she met those eyes.

The eyes, the same shade of a grey winter, just like her brothers, just like the ones she saw in a mirror. They were the eyes of her son.
Her son.

"My Lady."

A voice called out for her, follow by a few footsteps. She raised her eyes up to see Sir Arthur Dayne,"I'm sorry to disturbed you," he said, not daring to edge closer."But my sister has asked if you would like to join us for diner?"

She wasn't surprised by his request, and a small smile slipped into her lips before she shifted her eyes from Ser Arthur Dayne and back to her son. His hair was still very thin, falling across his forehead while some curled around his face. His chubby cheeks were smooth and lightly painted pink in a rosy rash. A small button nose and full pouty lips completed the tiny face. She was grateful to Ser Arthur and Lady Ashara each time she saw her son's little face. Without them, she doubted if she would have lived to be with her child.

"I will gladly join you, thank you," she informed him, not taking her eyes off her child. "And yes, Ser Arthur, you may hold him."

She wasn't too unobservant to have missed the looks that he giae to the babe every time she Lady Ashara held him. Ser Arthur longed to touch the little boy, and upon her offrance, his eyes became soft and warm. Somehow, this hurt Lyanna. Ser Arthur looked upon her son the way her husband should have, would have, had things been different. Yet even imagining Rhaegar looking upon their son was foolish, a dream A dream that cannot be granted no matter how much I ask the gods, she thought.

Yet despite Ser Arthur's obvious excitement at the thought, his voice quivered as he said, "I-I don't think…I believe that the boy would find it unpleasant to be held by a stranger."

Lyanna raised an eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous, Ser Arthur, you are no stranger."

Ser Arthur was about as far from a stranger as any man could be. He and Lyanna weren't necessarily friends. He wasn't her dear brother Eddard or Ashara. Still, for almost a year, he had been the only man, besides Ser Gerold, that she trusted with her son's life if anything was to happened to her.

Lyanna, therefore, continued to impress this upon him, "If I weren't for your and your sister's kindness, I would have died without ever holding my son. I would have left my child alone in this treacherous world."

"So please," she says rising up, and walking to Ser Arthur. "As a token of my gratitude, hold him" she said softly, carefully handing her son to the knight.

Ser Arthur for a moment just stood there, his eyes intent on the child, like he had never seen a babe in his life. Finally, however, he gently brings the babe to his chest, and the little boy responded by tucking his damp face against the warm body. Arthur shot at look at Lyanna , a little lost at the babe's action, before realizing that her eyes are filled with tears.

Realizing she was caught, Lyanna curled her hands together in her lap, and stammered, "I'm sorry, I just…"

She did not know how to explain it. Seeing Arthur with her son, had received the sharp pain in her heart. Memories of her husband, the man that fought a war for her, for their love, flashed before her eyes. It was all wrong! Rhaegar should have been the one holding their son.

"Lyanna," Ser Arthur whispered, gently squeezing her hand. She hadn't even realized he'd gotten up, but the touch felt like all that was holding her together at the moment.

"What's his name?" Ser Arthur finally asked, his eyes soft, soothing. He wanted desperately to help her, Lyanna knew it. He succeeded as well. The vivid memories that haunted her were driven out by the thought of her child. He looked so much like her, almost nothing like her husband. It hurt, some, but it made the choice of his name easy. She couldn't use the name her husband had picked out, not now. He looked like a Northerner, so he needed a Northern name. "Jon," she declared.

Arthur nodded approvingly. He stared at her, before finally speaking. "I promise you, by the old gods and the new, by the Lord of Light and any others too-House of Dyane will protect your child and you until our last day."

"You would make such a pledge for your whole house, for your sister?

"My sister would do anything for him; I know it. She would allow no harm come to come to him," he assured her, his eyes fierce. "We may have had our differences, but my sister and I were loyal to Prince Rhaegar. We will protect his only child. We will protect Prince Jon."

Lyanna appreciated his loyalty, and he was right. Lady Ashara would never hurt Jon, she had fallen in love with him the moment she saw him. Perhaps the boy simply filled the black hole left in Ashara's heart at the death of her daughter; Lyanna did not mind. Lady Ashara deserved happiness.

Her expression softened "I understand your love for my son, but it is your kindness to me I cannot comprehend. I have only brought your family misfortune."

Ser Arthur looked Lyanna in the eye, and said very plainly, as if it should have been obvious, " Had Rhaegar lived, you would have been Queen, but even now you are Queen Mother the woman who bore the true King."

With that said, and without taking his eyes away from her, he handed Jon back to his mother. He let his hands rest on hers, and then knelt. "You must change this treacherous world, Your Grace. For Jon, for the people, and for your husband. You must do those things Rhaegar once wanted to ."

His words rung dangerously true. Though Lyanna and Rhaegar had married for love, not alliances or heirs, he was Rhaegar's heir. He had the right to inheritance the Iron Throne, the right to be King.

Yet Lyanna and Ser Arthur both knew that few desired a Targaryen King after the bloody war to overthrow the mad Aerys II. They would slaughter Jon if we declare him Rhaegar's son, just like they slaughtered Rhaenys and Aegon .

Lyanna refused to risk her son's life. She could not lose her son. Her son.

The only way for the Jon become the heir to the Iron Throne – or hide the fact that he already was more accurately– was for Lyanna to wed the man that killed her husband, the man that she was betrothed to before everything happened, who technically she still was betrothed to. Only then could she claim Jon was his child, give him his throne, and his life.

Lyanna did not forget that doing so would make her Queen, a dangerous thing, but with it would come the power to cleanse the name of House Targaryen… the power to do all the things Rhaegar would have. Yet even that Lyanna was not sure made it worth it.
Then Ser Arthur's words echoed in her head,'For Jon, for the people, and for your husband.'

Jon.

Jon.

Jon.

She did not waste a second before looking down upon his very familiar grey eyes, but she took time before pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. Finally, she whispered softly, her voice choking a little as she lifted her finger to trace the babe's rosy cheek, "My child, my dearest child, for you I will do what I must do, as is my duty as a mother. Even if it means that I am sacrificing myself for you. I hope someday you will understand, or even forgive me. "

To protect her child. It will be worth it.