Chapter 1

The journey back to Winterfell was tiring.

Lyanna's mind wouldn't stop worrying. They had left the morning after her rendezvous with the Prince, and things had not went on smoothly. Rhaegar had wanted her to stay, and he had almost went to the point of threatening her. It had been Brandon's intervention that had stopped his bold advances.

Lyanna had never been more thankful to her brother. Shockingly to her, the moment they had woken up in each other's arms the morning after, the sweet words from Rhaegar's mouth were gone, and he had instead started murmuring about dragons again, and suddenly started to rub her belly. He had told her something in High Valyrian, which she had not understood, but they way he had stared at her belly had scared Lyanna.

"My heir," he had whispered once in Westeros dialect, running his fingers over her flat belly. Lyanna had pushed his hand away, and brought it to her lips to kiss it. But her advances had been interrupted by him, and Rhaegar had took the moment to kiss her belly and leave her chambers. Lyanna had dressed as fast as she could, and ran to Brandon, and one look at her and her brother had known something was bothering her.

It was Brandon who had reminded the Prince that Lyanna was a Stark, and not someone for him to keep, when Rhaegar had told him that he wanted her to stay in the capital for a few moons. It was only the Prince who was present then, and Lyanna knew that neither his father nor his wife had known of anything that had come to pass between them. Brandon had refused, and the tone of his voice had made Lyanna realize, not for the first time in her life, of the wildness in her brother; it was so strong that she was astonished at times at the way he managed to keep calm. She had not half his wildness, even if she had more than necessary. When Brandon was angry, there was little that could keep him from bursting out. Lyanna had held his hand all the time he had spoken to Rhaegar, but he had not lost his composure. Rhaegar was the Prince, after all, and Brandon may be wild, but he was no less wise either. At last, Brandon had been able to get away from him. It had been possible due to King Aerys, whose unawareness had been used as an advantage by him. Rhaegar may be the Crown Prince, but he wasn't King. When Aerys asked his son why he wanted to keep Lyanna, Rhaegar had to give him a small and ineffective excuse and that had helped Brandon to get them all out of King's Landing before the Prince could get another opportunity to confront them.

"Cat would be ecstatic to see you," Lyanna told Brandon, speaking for the first time to him since they had started on the Kingsroad. Other than him, none of her brothers knew about her and the Prince. She need not press Brandon to keep it a secret; he always had kept them all.

A small but happy smile spread across his handsome face. Her brother loved his wife. Catelyn Tully and Brandon Stark had been married three moons ago, beneath the Heart Tree. Due to a minor sickness, Catelyn had to stay behind in Winterfell with their father, while she and her brothers had rode South. Brandon had not wanted to leave his wife, but Cat's insistence had changed his mind. From his face, Lyanna could see that he was full of joy to think he was going to see her again. She realized with sadness that her attraction to Rhaegar had not been that strong. She had almost stopped thinking of him like she had that night: as a handsome, gallant prince who seemed to love her. Rhaegar had changed, and Lyanna regretted it.

But more than that, she regretted letting him bed her.

"Do you love him, Lya?"

Brandon's voice brought her to the present, and she wasn't even surprised by Brandon's timing of questioning her: just when she had been thinking of Rhaegar Targaryen herself. She always thought that Brandon had a way of knowing what was going on in her mind. Magic or just instinct, she did not know.

"You know I don't, brother," she confessed. "But I was wary when he tried to stop me from leaving."

"Do not think too much of it," Brandon assured her. Lyanna looked back and saw Benjen and Ned riding behind them, talking among themselves. Ned threw her a radiant smile when he saw her, and Lyanna waved at him.

"You don't have to worry about anything," Brandon said again. "I will see to everything. But if I may, go to the Maester as soon as you reach Winterfell. You would not want to give the Prince any more reasons to lay claim to you."

Lyanna nodded and whispered a thank you. They would reach Cerwyn soon. She wondered if Rhaegar's seed had already taken root inside of her.

She gently stroked her belly, and instantly regretted it when Brandon caught the action with his eyes, and gave her a long stare.

"I will do it, Brandon," she told him with resolve in her voice. She did not want her brother or anyone to get in any more trouble because of her.

Cat's hair shone like the summer sun as she ran towards them with a flight in her step. Looking at her, Lyanna could be sure that the sickness had left her. Brandon laid a kiss on the back of her hand and Catelyn smiled her best smile. Lyanna hugged her.

"I've missed you, Lya," she said, and Lyanna clasped her hand in her own. Catelyn had turned out to be the sister Lyanna had always wanted. Though her ways were more gentle and more like a highborn Lady than Lyanna's would ever be, they had taken an instant liking to each other.

"Welcome home, daughter," her Father said, and kissed her on her forehead. Lyanna felt her lips tremble. She wanted to ask for forgiveness of her father for what she had done, but for that she would have to tell him everything. It broke her heart that she couldn't. She had never kept a secret this grave from her family.

Brandon and Cat seemed to be impatient to be alone inside their chambers, and after a small conversation, they both bid them all a good night and retired. Her father kept asking Ned and Benjen about the tourney, and after a while, Lyanna excused herself too, saying she was tired and needed rest. She pressed a kiss on her father's cheek, and two each on Ned's and Benjen's.

The little vial with the moon tea lay on her nightstand as Lyanna sat on her bed. The strong smell of tansy had invaded her senses, although it had yet to make her uncomfortable. She fidgeted with the edge of the furs on the bed as her breathing grew rampant. Lyanna had went to the Maester with confidence and asked for it. The old man had given it to her at once, and nodded his head when Lyanna had told him to not say a word of it to anyone. It wasn't an unusual thing for Lyanna to make people listen to her. She knew more than half of the people of Winterfell by their names, even the little boys and girls with dirty hair. Even those inside the castle were terribly fond of her, including the Maester.

But now the vial lay without even a drop of it consumed. Lyanna closed her eyes. She did not want to dishonor her family, or the North. She did not want to raise a bastard. She knew of the life a bastard had to endure. She was even scared: to have a child at all.

But she did not want to kill the first child that would thicken in her womb. She did not want to be a murderer. She had lost her maidenhood by choice. She had laid with Rhaegar by choice. And she had always loved children, and had always thought that she would love her own pups someday. She was a wolf, and wolves never killed someone of their pack. And even if the child was yet to be born, it would be part of her pack as much as her own family.

She paused. She did not even know yet if she had indeed conceived, and she could be worried for nothing. Perhaps she was not with child. Perhaps Rhaegar had not been able to.

She opened the vial, and took a long breath. She took it in her hands and smelled it once, scrunching her nose at the strong odour. And then she opened her mouth and emptied.

But half of it.

I'm leaving it to you, she prayed to her Gods, as the taste ran across her tongue. Whatever it is you decide for me, I'll accept it.

The next morning she woke up early and emptied the other half outside. Her tongue still had the faint taste of mint in it, but she washed it down with water.

And a week later, the Gods had their choice known. Lyanna missed her moon blood and had morning sickness for three days until she went to the Maester and realized that she was indeed with child. The Maester looked fearful that his medication had not worked, but Lyanna assured him with a hand on his arm that it had.

She held her stomach and smiled sadly. It seemed that there would be a wolf pup in Winterfell soon.