Lysa has no stillbirths or miscarriages

Robb Stark and Minisa Arryn were born in Riverrun a few hours apart. They looked so much like each other, with their red hair and Tully features, that they could have been twins instead of cousins.

To have the two Tully sisters go into labour at the same time had been a nightmare both for the household of Riverrun and its Lord. The maester had to attend to both ladies at the same time. The memory of the girls' mother, who died in the bed of blood after many stillbirths, made everyone fear the worst.

In such conditions, it seemed almost a miracle than the two mothers and their children were healthy. Lord Tully had congratulated his daughters and hugged them both. Lysa had been moved by the sight of her usually serious father misty-eyed and trembling. He wants what best for me, he does. My husband may be old but I will be Lady of the Eyrie and Minisa won't be a bastard.

Her father had smiled at the name then carefully said that perhaps she should have given the babe an Arryn name, to please her Lord husband. Lord Arryn can have my sons but Minisa is mine and mine alone.

However, if Lysa had learnt anything, it was that certain things ought not to be said to her Lord father.

"Lord Arryn and I will have many other children," she said instead. 'I will give our firstborn son an Arryn name."

"Of course, you will," her father patted her head gently.

At least, he was not angry with her for not giving Lord Arryn an heir. He even seemed fonder of Minisa than he was of Robb. After all, Minisa did look at lot like her namesake and Lord Hoster Tully had loved his wife. Lysa suspected that one of the reasons he favored Cat was that she had their mother's face.

§§§

Lysa arrived in King's Landing dressed in sky-blue velvet and adorned in silver, every inch Lady Arryn, wife to the Hand of the King. Minisa was cooing softly in her arms. Her daughter had grown strong and chubby on the road.

Her husband went to meet them almost immediately. Lysa was struck by how old he was, with his white hair and saggy jowls. Her Septa said all men were beautiful. Find his beauty. Try. Her husband was still strong and healthy in spite of his age. And he had rather nice warm brown eyes. They were also Minisa's eyes, which already endeared them to Lysa.

To Lord Arryn's credit, he did welcome Lysa warmly, kissing her on the cheek and inquiring about her journey. He also asked to hold Minisa. Lysa was surprised at the look of wonder on his face as he watched his daughter sleep.

"Are you not disappointed it's a girl, my Lord?"

"I never had the chance to be a father before. Any child is a blessing. Thank you, my Lady."

He bowed his head to her deeply and Lysa blushed.

§§§

Years passed and more children came. First, a boy, two years after Minisa. They named him Elbert, after the nephew Jon had loved and lost to the Mad King's folly.

Elbert was dark-haired, with his father's face and his mother's sky-blue eyes. If Jon had looked at his daughter in wonder, his expression when he had first beholden his son was deep pride. The future of House Arryn of the Eyrie was now secure.

Lysa looked at her son's future and saw her husband's past. Jon Arryn had once been a young and handsome knight. If only he had been thirty years younger when we wed, I could have made him love me. A younger man would have forgotten Lysa's fault when a proud, elderly man could not.

Oh, Jon was never unkind to her. He always made sure she was as comfortable and happy as possible. He even asked for her counsel and listened to her opinions. But he was never truly tender. He cannot love a soiled woman. At least, he doesn't despise the children. Jon was a wonderful father. The duties of the Hand of the King were staggering but he still took pains to spend time with Minisa and Elbert and clearly doted on them both.

Three years after Elbert, they had another girl, another dark-haired Arryn. She had very pretty forest-green eyes that intrigued Lysa and made Jon smile sadly. "My mother had the same eyes. Her name was Lessa and she was born a Lynderly of Snakewood." Lysa suggested they named the baby after her and Jon had watched with true gratefulness in his eyes. Her husband was always so very grateful. He married me for my fertile womb and I have not failed to deliver.

Such thoughts were a little unfair, perhaps. Jon was fond of her, as she was of him. They had grown comfortable with each other during these five years. They had the children, who they both loved immensely. It was not the best of marriages but it was far from the worst.

§§§

When she gave birth for the fourth time, Lysa thought she would die. The labor was longer and more painful and she lost a lot of blood. When they finally put her son in her arms, Lysa immediately knew something was wrong. The babe's arms and legs were spindly and his crying was no louder than the mewling of a kitten.

Soon, every servant in the Tower of the Hand was whispering than Lord Arryn's younger son was born weak and sickly. No one thought he would survive for long.

Lysa refused to give up. She was so afraid that her son would die in his sleep that she made him sleep in her bed and awoke at his slightest whimper. She tried to feed him as much as she could so he could grow stronger.

At first, Lysa had been confined to her bed to recover then she refused to leave it until her boy was better. The children wanted to see her and their new sibling but she kept them out. Minisa would jump on the bed and Elbert would want to hold his brother. The babe was too fragile to allow them in yet.

Jon came and pleaded with her to leave their son with a wet nurse for a few hours. Lysa refused. She had heard a few serving women whispering that it would be a "blessing" if the Hand's sickly son died quickly and peacefully. She couldn't trust anyone but herself with her son's care.

"Please, Lysa, come back to us. The children need you."

"Their brother needs me more."

Jon's voice broke.

"I need you too."

"Do you?" said Lysa with more venom that she had intended. "You already have an heir and two girls to spare. Why would you need me?"

Her husband looked pained.

"Do you think I only value you as the mother of my children?"

"Why would I think differently? I've seen you with the children, Jon, I've seen how much you love them but you've never shown such love to me! I'm only the soiled woman who you condescend to be kind to because she gave you the heirs you needed."

"Have you been thinking these things for nine years?" said Jon, alarmed. "Such a fool I've been. If only I had been more honest..."

He closed his eyes in pain.

"I know I'm an old decrepit man. I feared that, if I showed you too much affection, you would be embarrassed by it, even repulsed."

"What about my broken maidenhead? I know how proud and honorable you are. It must bother you."

"It did. I admit that, when I first wed you, I was apprehensive. But, every day of every year, you've proven me wrong. I fell in love with you, Lysa. I hid it because I was feeling unworthy, of your beauty and your youth, not because I found you lacking. You've more than redeemed the mistake you made in your youth and it is nothing to me now."

"Oh, Jon, do you truly mean it?" asked Lysa with tears in her eyes.

"Of course I do. I'm sorry I've been such a poor husband to you."

"No, you were right," Lysa said, wiping her tears. "At the beginning of our wedding, I only saw you as an old man and I probably wouldn't have welcomed your affection. It was only after I saw your kindness and your love for the children that I wanted you to love me too."

"Lysa, you must trust me with our son. I will make sure he has the best care possible. I swear to you, no one will hurt him."

"I can't leave him. What if he dies and I'm not here?" Lysa burst into tears again. Her husband gathered her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulders.

"Our son won't die," he whispered in her ear. "He may be sickly but he is an Arryn and a Tully and he will endure."

Lysa was happy to hear real conviction in Jon's voice. I'm not the only one to believe in our son. He has not given up on him either.

Gently, she passed the sleeping boy to his father. She was glad to see Jon cradle him delicately.

"Have you named him yet?"

Lysa shook her head no.

"With your permission, I would call him Robert, for the strongest boy I ever raised. Our Robert will probably never be able to wield a war hammer but he will live to find his own strength."

§§§

Their Sweetrobin did live but Lysa had to part with a son nonetheless. Elbert turned eight and was sent to foster in Runestone. It tore Lysa's heart in two to see her son go but Jon had stressed how important it was for Elbert to spend time in the Vale. "One day, soon perhaps, Elbert will be Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East. His people must know him and he must know them." Lysa had finally relented after Jon had promised her she could go and see Elbert as often as she wanted.

Lysa waited two years for Sweetrobin to be old and strong enough that she felt comfortable to leave him in King's Landing. Then she took the girls on a ship to Gulltown. It was a wonderful trip. Their first stop was, of course, Runestone to see Elbert and then the Eyrie so the girls could know their father's seat. But, once it was over, Lysa found herself strangely unwilling to go back. She missed Jon and her Sweetrobin but she hadn't seen her sister in twelve years.

Lysa had spent a lot of time in their youth resenting Cat for being older, more beautiful, more loved. Now that she was happy with Jon and the children, a lot of that bitterness was gone and Lysa remembered the best moments of their shared childhood, sun-baked afternoons spent swimming in the Tumblestones, nights of laugher and gossip. She missed her oldest sister, her friend and confidante. Of course, they had never stopped writing to each other but it was not the same. And there were the girls to think about too; they had never met their Stark cousins and were eager to visit Winterfell.

Thus Lysa found herself writing to her sister. Cat's answer was prompt and enthusiastic so they took another boat to White Harbor and then a wheelhouse to Winterfell.

Lysa did not like the North. She had lived all her life in Riverrun and King's Landing so it was simply too cold and desolate for her taste. However, the welcome they received in Winterfell more than made up in warmth for the climate. Cat embraced her tightly and kissed her on both cheeks. Eddard Stark greeted her with a courteous bow and a small smile but, after hearing a lot about him from Jon and reading even more from Cat, Lysa knew his frozen face hid a good heart.

As for the girls, they soon mingled together. Minisa liked pretty dresses and lemon cakes like Sansa but she lacked her cousin's sweetness and perfect manners. Jon and Lysa had been so happy to have a living child that they had spoilt her rotten. Minisa had grown wilful and headstrong, with terrible bouts of temper, but also bold and beautiful. She hated sewing, found it stupid and a waste of her time, and often shirked her lessons to play with Arya.

Lessa also spend time with both her cousins. Whether she was riding with Arya or sitting with Sansa, her company was always quiet and unobtrusive. The opposite of her brash sister, Lessa spoke little and preferred the world inside her own head to the world outside.

They stayed a long time in Winterfell, long enough to see Cat safely give birth to her fifth child, a boy named Rickon. Then, they left the happy Stark family to welcome their new member and returned to King's Landing.

All in all, they had been gone almost a year. Lysa found her Sweetrobin much changed. As her son was weak and prompt to fit of shaking sickness, he could not roughhouse with the other boys. To keep him happy and occupied, Jon had spent a lot of time with Sweetrobin, filling his evenings with stories and hiring a special tutor for him during the day. Not only the boy and his father had developed a special bond but her Sweetrobin's intellect had been sharpened by the experience. "The boy can never be a knight but, perhaps one day he will sit on the King's Council as Grand Maester," Jon said once to Lysa.

She had never loved her husband as much as in that instant. How many lesser men would have dismissed Robert, thinking him worth nothing because of the weakness of his arms and legs? Instead, Jon saw as much value in him as in his healthier siblings.

Unlike her father, her husband did not play favorite between his children. Minisa was his eldest darling girl, Elbert his heir, Lessa the sweet child who reminded of his mother and Sweetrobin his brave, clever boy and he loved them all equally.

§§§

Minisa flowered at two-and-ten and soon, the betrothal offers abounded.

There were many from Jon's bannermen and other minor Lords but also two from great Houses. These ones Lysa considered the most carefully.

The first came from Mace Tyrell, on behalf of his son and heir Willas. He was ten years older than Minisa and crippled. However, as Lysa's husband was forty years older than her and her son considered by some little better than a cripple, Willas's age or his bad leg were no concern of Lysa's. She had never met Willas and had heard little about him, mostly about his fine breeding of horses and dogs. He was said to be kind but Prince Joffrey was also said to be gallant. Words are winds and appearances mean little and less.

Minisa's second potential suitor, Prince Quentyn Martell, was even more of a mystery. All that Lysa knew about him, she had learnt from Doran Martell's letter: his son was four-and-ten and currently squiring for Lord Yronwood. As Quentyn had an older sister, he would never inherit Sunspear so, as far as lands and titles were concerned, Willas Tyrell was the better party. However, Minisa, with her headstrongness, would perhaps be happier in Dorne than in the Reach.

Lysa put back the two letters. Before anything was decided, Minisa would have to meet the young men at least once. Thankfully, they had plenty of time. If Lysa was honest of her, she wasn't ready to let go of her daughter yet. Minisa was still a child and she would stay with her for six more years at least.

With her daughter's flowering came something more unpleasant than letters.

Lysa and the children often dined with Petyr Baelish. Lysa's former love had risen fast and high with her help. His appointment as Master of Coin two years past had still come as a surprise though.

In the earliest, most unhappy years of her marriage, Lysa had often thought wistfully about Petyr. However, as her relationship with her husband warmed, these feelings had mostly faded away.

It had been strange, seeing Petyr again. She had grown so much from the girl that had once loved him in Riverrun. Still, Petyr remained dear to her and she thought he would always be.

She was wrong.

Petyr watched Minisa. Oh, he didn't stare or leer. His eyes were cold, weighing her daughter up like a morsel of meat.

Lysa knew who he was thinking of. Her younger self had been happy enough to fool herself into believing Petyr loved her but she knew better now. Petyr had loved Cat, still loved her so obsessively he searched for her in her twelve-year-old niece's face.

It chilled Lysa to the bones. Minisa was a child. He had no right to look at her like that, no right to think of her as a potential replacement for Cat. Minisa was her own person, as different from her aunt in character as she was similar in looks.

Lysa spoke to Jon about it. He was surprised but did not question her claims. He blames himself for not noticing anything, the sweet man.

"I can't send him away. The need for his skill with money is too great. But I can make sure he will never see you or Minisa again."

Lysa nodded, relieved.

§§§

Something preyed on her husband's mind. It ate away at him but he refused to speak of it. He was afraid she would be in danger, if she knew. Lysa disagreed. Nothing could be more dangerous that walking blind. Jon had to admit she was right. He confessed to her, in a whisper, his suspicions about the Queen.

It was frightening, how much sense it made. The Queen's children had nothing Baratheon about them, not the eyes, not the hair, neither the strong jaws, nor the broad shoulders. They were wholly Lannister.

Lysa had liked the younger children, bright Myrcella and sweet Tommen. To think they had been born of the vilest of relationship... Not just adultery, but incest. Lysa pitied them but, mostly, she feared for Jon.

She urged him to tell everything to the King. The book, the bastards, they were proof of the Queen's adultery and her children's bastardy. The King would believe him.

"If I speak to Robert, he will have the Queen and the Kingslayer's head. How do think Tywin Lannister will react when his children are executed and his grandchildren called bastards? The man is proud, powerful, ruthless. He will claim that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are the first blond Baratheons because the Lannister blood is simply strong in Cersei. That Robert invented everything to get rid of her. Who can prove him wrong? He will go to war for his grandchildren's claim and many will follow him."

"What if there was absolute proof of the Queen's adultery and incest? What if she was caught with her brother in the act?"

Jon looked at her attentively.

"It would make it impossible for anyone to defend her. But the Queen won't allow herself to be caught."

"Leave it to me."

"Lysa, you can't! It's too dangerous."

"I can. To keep us safe, I must."

"Then I should be doing it. I am the one putting this family in danger."

"Jon, we both you're too honorable to successfully execute such a scheme. But I am a Tully, and for me, family comes before everything, even honor. I will get you the proofs you need, even if I must bring the High Septon himself to the Queen's bedchambers."

In my head, Lysa manages to catch Cersei, she and Jaime are executed, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen (Waters) become hostages to keep Tywin in check. Robert marries Margaery Tyrell and get to the business of fathering a trueborn son.

Everything seems well... but the Targaryen are across the Narrow Sea, determined to regain their throne, and the Lannister lion still has claws.