Casterly Rock, The Westerlands, 281 AL
They said she was born at the start of winter, when the snows had started falling and the winds began howling. Some said she was born in the late hours of night, when the stars shined so brightly they almost made the sky look like black velvet adorned with diamonds. Others whispered that she was born in the loudest silence ever heard.
In reality, she was born at the start of winter, at night, hours after the Targaryen dynasty had fallen: the day Westeros would be transformed forever.
She'd come into this world screaming, tearing through the deadly silence and filling the halls of Casterly Rock with barely contained happiness. She lay swaddled against her mother, Joanna, who - finally, after so long, sat alone in bed, finding a moment of peace to bond with her youngest one - could not take her eyes off her precious new baby, admiring this new life she had birthed, imagining it's life ahead and painting pictures of joy that were worthy of the best painter in the entire of Westeros. The baby, with her deep blue eyes and fine golden hair like all her siblings, cooed softly, making her mother's heart weep with joy. The baby girl seemed restless, squirming and wiggling her tiny arms and legs, yawning and revealing the dimples in her cheeks - Tywin's going to have a hard time keeping the boys away from this one, Joanna chuckled to herself, cuddling her new baby, so utterly absorbed in memorizing her daughter, that she remained unaware of the growing pool of red around her, or the slight haze at the corner of her eyes.
Forgetting the war, the rebellion, his responsibilities now that there was a new king, everything, Tywin Lannister took long strides along the marble floors, smiling at every member of his household, shaking hands and laughing loudly. He crossed by Cersei, who was busy instructing the servants, ensuring that the feast to be held had plenty of food and wine, her face splitting with her wide smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. A roar of his eldest son's laughter tore Tywin's gaze from his daughter and he rounded the hallway to see Jaime twirling one of the Yelshire girls and swaying along the music that had filled his home at such an ungodly hour. And there, by the bannister, sat his youngest son - his short legs dangling over the ledge and the same smile as his siblings etched upon his face, a glass of wine in his hand. Tyrion raised his goblet that moment, hooting to get everyone's attention, and speaking clearly to the courtyard: "To my new and beautiful baby sister! May she get every happiness that the Seven Gods can bestow upon us! To Ireyne!".
The walls shook as everyone cried out her name and drank to her long life. They'd spend the entire night laughing and dancing, singing and drinking. The entire household of the Lannisters had celebrated all through the night and well into the daylight - after all, there was a new baby girl in their midst, with a fate that perhaps none of the 318 inhabitants of Casterly Rock could envision in their wildest of imaginations.
The Tower of Joy, Dorne, 281 AL
She thought she was going to die. She knew she was going to die. Could feel it - death - seeping through her bones, chilling her blood drop by drop.
Lyanna's mind was numb, from pain, from heartache, from love and loss. Her heart had nearly exploded with joy just a few hours ago, when she'd held her son, her baby boy, her dragon - her Aegon. She'd felt death then too, felt its looming presence. And so she'd set to work - memorizing her son's features, his tiny nose, the curve of his lower lip, the curls of his fine black hair, the grey of his eyes… She stared and stared at him, hugged him to her breasts and kissed him. Spoke to him - knowing he'd never know her words - but she still had to tell him of how loved he was, how his father would've given the world, had given the world away, to try and protect him. She'd continued holding her baby, through Wylla's murmurs of 'you're bleeding my Lady…you need to lie down', through Arthur Dayne's apologies of 'I'm sorry my Queen, I've let you down', through the night and until the moon disappeared and the sun rose up in its place, until her arms gave way and she could no longer even hold her child. Tears pricked her eyes then, flowing down her face in desperation. She was dying and slowly at that, each moment making her realize she was never going to see her son grow up.
She'd lost everything now - truly. She was going to die and loose this too; almost everyone was gone from her mind, blurring out into grey fog that clouded her vision at the corners, growing thicker every passing minute. The only people that mattered were here, in this very room.
"Promise me Ned," she whimpered, "Promise me." She didn't know what exactly she was asking of him - but she knew that this would have dire consequences for him; she needed someone to promise her. Lyanna held on to her life: a silk thread that was fraying in the middle, ready to snap at any moment, but Lyanna refuse to let go until she knew for certain that her boy was safe…
Her son - who was born a prince, heir to the Throne. A prince with a destiny upon his shoulders, a baby boy who was set to begin a journey unlike any other - cooed softly, as if sensing his mother's discomfort. After what felt like another eon, she faintly saw her big brother nod, saw him hold her son tenderly through the mist that clouded her eyes.
And Lyanna let go.