Eddard Stark pulled his white stallion to a halt. The dark of night had washed over them hours before, and the cold chilled their mail and plate.
"We make camp here." Ned instructed, seeing his six companions come to a stop as well. "It is a half day's ride as yet to the Red mountains, then we still have a few hours to go to the Tower from there." He dismounted, and his metal boots crashed upon the dirt, hardened by the cold.
Ethan Glover had been responsible for making fires. It took only but a few minutes to get one going, and Cheiftain Theo Wull pulled from his sack a fresh dear leg, the only remainder from their hunt earlier that day. Ned tied his mount to a nearby tree, than sat by the fire to try and gain some warmth.
The second they stopped riding, his worry became his prominent thought. It had been over a year and a half since he had last seen his younger sister, and a year since her abduction by the silver prince. The voice of his best friend, Robert Baratheon, was the one that echoed in his mind.
"Ned," he said, left bloody and aching from the battle with Rhaegar, and his voice even raspier and more hoarse than normal, "bring her back to me."
"Of course, my friend." Ned promised. "For you and me both."
The look that was in Robert's eyes, hurt and wounded from the fight with her kidnapper, staring at him through the bloody antlered helm, was the look that assured Ned that his friend's love for his sister was every bit as strong as his own. Jon Arryn was the first man to take Robert to the horses after the battle was won. Eddard made for king's landing, praying he could arrive before the Lannister's, but it was his sister he thought of most the whole way through. If his duty hand't called, he would have let King's Landing deal with itself and made straight for the Tower of Joy.
While pulling bites off of his piece of dear leg, he prayed silently that his detour through King's Landing hadn't been the difference for his sister. Three of the kingsguard had been unaccounted for; Ser Barristan Selmy had bent the knee to Robert, and Ser Jonothor Darry and Prince Lewyn Martell died on the trident, while Ser Jaime Lannister remained with the mad king. Another foolish move that had proven, for the mad king.
It was Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Arthur Dayne, and Ser Gerold Hightower that were not accounted for. All good men, all noble men. Ned feared that Rhaegar had left one or more of them with Lyanna, in case he or Robert should come for her. It was likely that one of them should at least have fled with Rhaegar's brother and sister, but he couldn't truly. The kingsguard does not flee, Ser Gerold once told him, a very long time ago.
Sleep couldn't find him. Lord Howland Reed, Captain Martyn Cassel and Ethan Glover were chatting and laughing and sharing war stories until the early hours of morning. It was a very light sleep that finally took him; one which, it seemed once he awoke, had never come at all. He did not have any dreams he could recollect, and if he had actually noticed the sun rising while it was happening, he would have been sure he hadn't slept at all. When he woke, it looked to be fairly early morning, by the sun's position. Ethan Glover and Ser Mark were the only ones awake, feasting on the carcass of another slain dear. Ethan had already hunted.
"Eat, my lord." He said, as he saw Ned rising. "Today is the day."
"Aye." Ned said, taking a seat on the ground next to them, ripping a bite of dear off. "A righteous day it shall be." He hoped the words were true.
Once all of his companions had awoken and eaten, Ned finally addressed the troup.
"Gentlemen," he began. "It is not likely that it will be only Lyanna at the Tower. Three members of the kingsguard were absent at the Siege of Storm's end, and I'm near certain we will find them there."
"Did they not flee with the young siblings of Prince Rhaegar?" Asked Lord Willam Dustin.
"The kingsguard do not flee." Ned repeated. "Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur, and Ser Oswell will most likely be guarding my sister."
"The Sword of the Morning, protecting a hostage at a tower in the middle of some mountains?" said Ser Mark. "I shouldn't think so."
"He was friends with Rhaegar, that one," Added Ethan. "He'll be with the man's family."
"Not to mention the Lord Commander himself." said Lord Willam.
"There isn't another place they would be." Ned said.
"The kingsguard are sworn to protect only the king or his heirs. What would he be doing protecting the Prince's hostage?" asked Theo Wull.
Ned feared he knew the answer, but dare not think the thought. "I'm not sure." He said instead. "But such is my suspicion. They are good and honorable men, and if no violence can come of this, than none will. Understood?"
"Aye." said the men, in unison.
"Then let us ride."
And the seven men rode for the better part of the day. Where they made camp the night before, the tips of the mountains had only just begun to peek over the horizon. A long ride, Ned thought.
It was midday by the time the troup arrived at the mountains. The prince's pass stared them dead in the face, signalling their entrance into Dorne. "A little arrogant of the Prince, is it not," japed Lord Willam, "to hide his captive mistress in the kingdom of his wife?"
Ned did not find it funny.
It was dusk when the troup arrived at the foot of the mountain. The tower was only a little way's up the mountain, its red brick well in view. When they had made there way to the path up the mountain's side, there stood, in plain view, at the tower's base, three shining knights clad in white. Ser Oswell stood in his full, bat-winged helm, while the Sword of the Morning and the Lord Commander stood in full view. They saw Ned's host arriving.
"Greetings, Lord of Winterfell, friend to the usurper." The Lord Commander greeted him. "You have come to reclaim the Prince's love, have you?"
"The Prince's hostage, I think." Eddard replied. "Lay down your swords. You are outnumbered seven to three. No harm need come of this."
"We swore an oath, my lord," Said Ser Arthur, "to defend the Targaryens with everything we have."
"We will not betray him as you have." Added Oswell.
"Nobody will question your honor for as long as you will live, Sers." Said Lord Howland. "The Mad King is mad and the Prince a fool. Pledge your swords to a true king. A noble king."
"Robert Baratheon." Ned added. "A just king of the seven kingdoms."
"A usurper of power to which he has no right." Said the Lord Commander.
"We will never follow such a man." Said Ser Oswell.
He realized that treating with them was a lost cause. "I looked for you on the Trident," Ned said to them.
"We were not there," Ser Gerold answered.
"Woe to the Usurper if we had been," said Ser Oswell.
"When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were."
"Far away," Ser Gerold said, "or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells."
"I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege," Ned told them, "and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them."
"Our knees do not bend easily," said Ser Arthur Dayne.
"Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him."
"Ser Willem is a good man and true," said Ser Oswell.
"But not of the Kingsguard," Ser Gerold pointed out, and as he had told Ned once before, "The Kingsguard does not flee."
"Then or now," said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.
"We swore a vow," explained old Ser Gerold.
Ned's companions moved up beside him, with steel in hand. They were seven against three. "And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.
"No," Ned said, with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends." Ice rung as he unsheathed it, filling the scene with sound. In a powerful over head swing, he crashed it down on Ser Oswell, only to be parried easily. He was locked in single combat with the man. To his left, he saw the light from Dawn easily swinging and flowing through the air, blocking every attack from Ethan Glover, Theo Wull and Martyn Cassel, all at once. Lord Howland and Ser Mark were battling the Lord Commader, while Lord Willam came to Ned's aid.
Ice flew off a parry from Ser Oswell's sword and caught the bat-wing on his helm, flinging it off his head and sending it rolling down the mountain. While Ned's sword was on the backswing, the kingsguard kicked him in the stomach which sent him toppling and winded to the ground. As he looked up to return to his foe, Ser Oswell slashed his sword sideways, catching Lord Willam right between helm and breastplate. The blood poured over his silver plate, colouring it red.
Ned rose and attacked Ser Oswell as fiercely as ever. Over the man's shoulder, he saw Ser Arthur pierce Theo Wull through the heart, pull out his sword, and stick it right back through the cracked breastplate of an already wounded Ethan Glover.
Ice swung down and caught Ser Oswell in the shoulder, causing him to lose balance. Ned kicked him just as he had been kicked, sending the Guard to the ground in like fashion. As the man tried to stand, Ned swung his blade and removed Ser Oswell Whent's head from his shoulders.
Ser Arthur had already finished off Martyn Cassel by the time Ned looked up, and Lord Howland head cut the throat of the Lord Commander, but he was gravely wounded in the leg. He could barely stand. Ser Mark and Ned were the only able bodies left from the skirmish.
"Well, Lord Eddard," Said Ser Arthur, "How quickly seven become two. I fear the young Lord Robb will grow up fatherless. A pity." Ned heard the voice of his brother Brandon in his head. Ser Athur Dayne, the finest knight and most skilled swordman that this world ever saw, he once told Ned at the tourney at Harrenhall.
"And three becomes one, Ser. You are still outnumbered." Ned pointed out. "End this now, I implore you." Half from wanting an end to the fighting, half from fear of the knight.
Dawn rose up and crashed down as quickly as the flash of light it looked like, and Ned had his answer. He barely managed to raise Ice in time to block the attack. Ser Mark swung his own greatsword, trying to catch the last remaining kingsguard off balance from his own attack, but Ser Athur blocked it with apparent ease. The two men relentlessly rained attack after attack upon him, but he blocked them all.
When they had finally managed to push him back up the hill to the wall of the tower, he made his move. The Sword of the Morning ducked under a horizontal swing from Ned, and pushed Dawn through the crease between belt and breasplate on Ser Mark's armor. The man crashed to the ground.
Ned barely had time to realize what was happening before Dawn was upon him once again. Ser Arthur was pushing him back to the pile of corpses with blow after blow. Ned saw what he was doing, trying to get him to move backwards until he trips over one. This is where I die, he thought.
"I will defend the Targaryens!" Yelled Ser Arthur, continuing to push him back. What Targaryens? Surely only Lyanna was here? Ned thought. Sure enough, it was the body of Martyn Cassel that caught his leg, much sooner than he imagined it would. His back slammed against the ground, and Ice flew from his hand. In an act of desperation, he reached over to the corpse of Cheiftain Theo Wull and pulled from his dead clutches the man's iron battle axe, and used it to catch the blow from Ser Arthur that felt like a mountain crashing down upon him. The Sword of the Morning pushed his shining blade downward with all his weight behind him, inching ever closer to Ned's neck. The light from the sword blinded him. I'm so sorry, Lyanna. He thought, as he felt the cold of the steel touch his neck. I've failed you. His upward push on the battle axe was growing weaker.
Just when hope was about to dissapear, the pressure from the sword lightened. Ned opened his eyes, which had been forced shut from the pain. It was not the same look in Ser Arthur's eyes that he had had a moment ago. Where blind fury was before, now was only confusion and pain.
Ned took the moment and summoned what strength he had left to throw the knight from him. He pulled himself to his feet, and dropped the axe, instead taking Lord Willam's sword. As he turned back to face the sword in the morning, the man was struggling to his feet. Blood spilled from his mouth.
When he was fully standing, Ned saw what had saved him. An arrow was protruding from the man's stomach, where it had pierced both his white cloack and steel plate.
Another arrow hit him, in the leg this time, flying past Lord Eddard from behind him. Ser Arthur did not fall, but he growled loudly with pain. Ned turned around, to see that Lord Howland, barely conscious and blood spilling from his leg was standing with Ethan Glover's hunting bow in hand, and a smile upon his face.
Ser Arthur limped on towards Ned, and with more strength than any man in his condition should posses, swung Dawn towards him. The strike was too slow. In the man's injured state, Lord Eddard easily evaded Ser Arthur's attack. "I'm sorry, Ser. This is the end." Ned took up Lord Willam's sword, and shoved it quickly downwards in the crease of his plate over his shoulder, and the light in the man's eye went out.
Ned ran to Lord Howland and took the bleeding man's arm over his shoulder to support him. "You saved my life, My Lord."
"Let's hope we can save her's." Reed responded, looking up to the tower.
"We need to get you some help." Said Ned. "Hopefully Rhaegar saw fit to leave a maester with my sister."
As Ned walked to the tower and entered it's stone arch, he heard a yell. A woman's yell, one of pain. "Lyanna!" He yelled, pulling Howland Reed up the stairs.
"Go to her, Ned." Said Lord Howland. "I can manage."
Ned heeded his word, gently letting him down on the stone steps. He ran as fast as he ever had up the spiral stairs, and nearly bowled the door down when he had.
What he saw shocked him more than anything he had ever seen. His sister was lying on the bed, face red, hair messy, and covered in sweat. There was a measter holding her hand and feeding her water. A second maester stood over her, with his hands in the underside of her dress.
She is giving birth.
Ned had no idea what to feel at first. She was screaming, obviously in a lot of pain. He had witnessed the lifing process twice before, but neither time had the mother looked like she was in this much agony.
He stood in silence and stillness, petrified by the scene. "Lord Eddard!" Yelled one of the maester's, a man who Ned recognized but couldn't put a name on. "My Lord!"
When he finally collected himself, he moved swiftly to his sister's side, and held her hand. "Ned," she said. "You came for me." It was all she could do to whisper it between screams.
"Milk of the Poppy!" He yelled at a Maester. "Where is it?"
"We've used it all, My Lord."
"Be brave, sister." He said, hand at her face, angered that they had already used their whole stock of Milk of the Poppy.
A few minutes later, her screams were replaced by those of a child. Her new born son. The maester placed him in her arms.
"Leave us." She instructed them kindly, with a tired voice. "And thank you."
"Me too, my lord?" Asked Howland Reed, now slowly making his way through the door on his injured leg.
"You stay, Howland." Ned said. He turned to his sister. "It's his isn't?" He asked her, fearful of the answer. "Rhaegar's?"
"Yes." she breathed, barely more than a whisper.
"I'm so sorry." Ned said, shedding a tear onto his sister's bed. He was at his knees next to it. "Did he hurt you? I should have come sooner, I-"
"I love him, Ned." She told him, not taking her eyes off her son.
"Yes, he is your son." He said, looking at the young boy. It was understandable, Ned thought, that she still love a son even born of a man such as him.
"I love Rhaegar." She said. "With everything I have."
Not so understandable. Ned was schocked once again. "Your kidnapper?"
"No. I chose to leave with him. I begged him to take me far away. From his mad father, from his wife he could never love, from Robert, whom I had loved, but never the way I loved Rhaegar. So we came here." she said, now tears falling. "And here did we live, for a long time. But he always told me he had to face Robert. That it was the way that things should be done. I begged him not to go, but he did."
Her voice went hoarse, and Ned gave her some water.
"Tell me, sweet brother." She said, still with he soft, sickly smile. "Did he face Robert?"
"Yes." said Ned, barely more than a whisper.
"And he fell?"
A fat tear rolled off the tip of Ned's nose. "Yes."
"I feared as much." She leaned her head back, and gave a hearty sigh. "That's okay." She said. "I feel the strength leaving me. I will be with him soon."
"No, Lyanna, you can't say that, you can't, I'll-"
"We were going to leave Westeros." she interrupted, her voice very soft, not even caring of what he said. "Selling the rubies from his armor in Volantis and starting a new life. He was going to leave the realm for Viserys to rule."
"Please Lyanna, we can be at Kingsgrave in a few hours, I can save you-"
"No." She said. "It's too late. I need you to promise me something, Ned."
"Anything, sweet sister." He was completely crying now.
"Two things." She corrected herself. "Please, never reveal to Robert where my heart truly lies. He is a good man, and there was a time when I loved him as he loves me. I can't bear to see him hurt."
He cleared his throat. "Of course."
"Also, I would ask that you raise my son." She said. There was a long pause, where Ned cotemplated her words. "Let him grow to be big and strong. I heard you have a son now as well. Let the cousins be friends."
"If I say he's your son, people will know." Ned said. "Robert will butcher the boy."
"Raise him as your bastard, then. One day, when he is a man grown, tell him of his true mother and father." She said. "His name is Jon. Jon Targaryan." Only now did he notice the silver and ruby wedding band around her finger.
"Jon Snow." Ned corrected her.
"Jon Snow." Agreed Lyanna, before finally shutting her eyes and letting go of her last clutches on life.
Ned stood very slowly. "Help me keep her promise, Howland. Nobody shall ever know."
"I swear it, friend." Howland told him.
Jon Targaryan. He looked the babe in the big, grey eyes that every Stark had. You will be a good man, Jon Snow.