Tomorrow Never Came
Lyanna's world was falling apart. The baby had torn out her insides and she could feel her blood leaving her and staining the pale sheets she laid upon. No, not the baby. Him. Her son. Little Aegon Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men.
Her time on the world was nearing its end and Lyanna felt numb to most of the pain. Her eyes begged her to shut them, but still, she kept on fighting.
The noise outside seemed to have stopped. The song of swords that filled the air came to a halt and soon the door to her small chamber busted open.
"...Ned?" she managed, hoarsely as he quickly found himself beside her bed. "Is that you? Is that really you?"
Her voice struggled to come out but this is what she had been waiting for. Lyanna was no fool. She was not going to survive for long and Aegon needed someone to care for him. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing, it was known.
"You're not a dream," she said, breathing heavily as he took her hand with a faint smile.
"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here. Right here" Ned didn't take his eyes away from her face. There was no judgment from him, only brotherly love. Relief washed over her.
"I've missed you, big brother"
"I missed you too" He replied still focused on her.
"I want to be brave" tears now flowed down her face while Ned stroked her hair sticky with sweat and blood.
"You are." He said as it was the only thing he was sure of.
"I'm not" Ned now examined his sister's state. Her wet blood stained his hands and dread filled his mind. "I don't want to die."
"You're not going to die"
But it wasn't true. It had already begun but Ned continued to protest.
"Get her some water! Is there a maester?" he shouted to the other girls in the room, but Lyanna had to have his attention.
"No, not water. Just listen to me, Ned." He leans closer to her ear and she whispered softly "His name is Aegon Targaryen. If Robert finds out he will kill him. You know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me."
As Ned distanced himself the midwife handed him a bundle. He stared at the baby.
"I promise"
It was all Lyanna needed. The words of her brother left her feeling peaceful and amidst smiles and tears, her lids closed for a final time.
But it wasn't the final time. How strange.
Lyanna was still lying down but her surroundings were completely different but strangely in no way unfamiliar.
She sat up to see that she was on her chambers in Winterfell, safe on her soft bed beneath the warm furs. The air was not thick and warm like the red mountains of Dorne. Instead, it was crisp and dry, like a late autumn morning. Also the smell. Gone was the nauseating stench of withering roses and fresh blood and the room smelled fresh, earthy. It smelled like home.
Best of all, Lyanna felt great. Her loins didn't ache and she didn't hell an enormous weight upon her. Her belly seemed to be flat again and she clutched at it tightly. She felt the tears coming and let them flow.
And then, interrupting all of her thoughts came a knock on the door.
"Come in," she said uncertainly, wiping her wet face.
Her father appeared at the other end of the door. Rickard Stark smiled brightly at his daughter's figure inside the chamber but his watery eyes betrayed him. Lyanna could make out shapes behind him.
"Father? What are you doing here? You were dead." The questions slipped out of her mouth all at once. Were they back at Winterfell? Had the letter about her father and brother's death been a misunderstanding? Was this all an intricate dream?
"Oh, my sweet child. I had hoped I would not see you here for many seasons to come." Lord Rickard sat down beside her in the bed and the figures behind him slowly stepped into the room. "Alas, it is good to see you again sweetling"
Lyanna studied her father's face. He looked genuinely happy, not like his usual state after her mother's death. The lines on his face were less stiff and his eyes were bright and welcoming. This was Lord Rickard in a good day.
The other faces in the room soon called her attention. The short woman with long dark brown hair stood behind father seemed like half a stranger but Lyanna could have recognized those grey eyes anywhere. Could it really be? Lady Lyarra came hand in hand with her eldest son Brandon into the light.
"Mother? Bran? What the hell is this place?
"This is hell" she hears a familiar voice. There leaning against the door was her silver prince. The dragon with the white hair that was longer than hers. Oh, how she missed those faces. Lyanna had so many questions. It would do no good to dwell on those now. Her family was here. They were all safe for once. She hugged the Starks as Rhaegar watched from the entrance, a sad smile across his face.