Author's Note: Okay, those of you who follow me on tumblr may well already know of this fic by it's tumblr name, Jon-as-a-Wildling crack fic. It was meant to be something short and entertaining, but somewhere between me thinking about it and actually writing Chapter One, it became something much larger that requires considerable thought and writing energy.
Writing is at an early stage, so tags will be updated when necessary. I don't foresee it becoming M-rated unless strong swearing surfaces.
Many thanks to DNKC who has beta'd this chapter, and also to River in Egypt, who is not part of this fandom, but wiki'd ASOIAF so I could write her very long emails about this fic.
Lyanna
The riders came from Starfall, and Lyanna watched from the crack in her door as the three Kingsguards paled at the news the riders murmured quietly to them. The strong Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, needing to brace himself against the stone wall to keep himself upright. Ser Oswell Whent slumped into the nearest chair and only Ser Arthur Dayne managed to maintain his posture, but his face was white and his eyes strained. It was this that brought her down the stairs and into the main room of this small tower.
"What is it?" she asked, refusing to be kept in the dark over this.
"Nothing, my Lady," Ser Gerold said quickly, throwing a warning glance at his two men.
"It's hardly nothing if riders have sought you out."
The lack of communication with the outside world had pleased Lyanna at first. So keen had she been to escape from the reality of the future mapped out by her lord father that the Tower of Joy, as Rhaegar had dubbed it, had been an oasis of much needed peace and solitude.
But then Ser Arthur had been joined by Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell and the whispers had started. Lyanna had awoken more than once to find Rhaegar no longer next to her and quiet murmurs coming from down the spiral stairs.
At first, she had been content to roll back over and sleep, sure that if it was something important Rhaegar would tell her, but whilst the Prince continued to behave as normal, the worried, searching looks she would catch Ser Arthur throwing her started to make her anxious, and she had sought reassurance from Rhaegar. Her family had received a raven, yes? Her father knew she was well? Rhaegar had nodded abstractly at her and smiled, but it had no longer quelled the disquiet that sat in the pit of her stomach.
Then Rhaegar had left, and they had heard nothing for moons now.
He had ridden out, throwing her a casual kiss as he had disappeared from this wilderness back into civilisation. And then nothing. Indeterminable days passed, the only noticeable difference being the change of her body as she missed her moonblood and her stomach swelled slightly.
Lyanna already knew they were keeping things from her. She heard their whispers when they thought she slept and had pressed her ear to the door, desperate to hear something, but what was happening outside of her tower remained a mystery.
Before he left, Rhaegar had murmured something about his father and needing to be back in Kings Landing. He had made it sound so normal that she had presumed he would be smoothing the way for her to leave this place and go with him. But if that was the case why were the Kingsguard left here with her so tense?
"She needs to know," Ser Arthur said.
"Our orders were to say nothing," Ser Gerold countered.
"Orders?" Lyanna asked, interjecting. "What orders?"
Throwing a warning glance at his knights, Ser Gerold strode over to her, taking her hand in his in a fatherly gesture. "Prince Rhaegar did not want you to worry, my Lady."
Was it her fate in life to be treated like a fragile flower by men? she thought, frustrated.
"I know something is happening," Lyanna said acerbically. "So I'm hardly going to be serene and calm if you don't tell me."
"Lady Lyanna, I am really sorry but I am not able to go against the Prince's wishes."
Barely suppressing the desire to stamp her foot and scream that she demanded to know, Lyanna settled for issuing a threat. "Prince Rhaegar will hear about this when he returns, and I will be sure to express just how displeased I am."
It was the kind of threat that would have made Brandon laugh and ruffle her hair, but the effect on the three knights of the Kingsguard was unexpected. Ser Gerold looked gravely back at her, an expression in his eye she could not read. Ser Oswell looked down at his feet and cleared his throat, but it was Ser Arthur Dayne who set her heart pounding in panic. He, the best of Rhaegar's friends, had been with them since the very beginning. Had been there when she had stolen out of Winterfell to meet Rhaegar in the Wolfswood. How long ago that now seemed. Tears shone in Ser Arthur's eyes and Lyanna suddenly knew with absolute certainty that Rhaegar would not be returning.
"He's not coming back, is he?" she whispered.
"My Lady-" Ser Gerold started to say.
"Don't 'my Lady' me, Lord Commander," Lyanna snapped. "He's not coming back and there's only one reason he would not return – death."
A tear slid down Ser Arthur's face then, confirming her fears, and the sadness that flooded through her took her by surprise. She was fond of Rhaegar but she had primarily run with him to avoid the fate of being married to Robert Baratheon. She had not been enamoured with her father's match, and no matter how Ned had tried to put a positive spin on his friend's character, she had realised the truth the few times she had met him, and knew that she could not be happy as his wife.
Rhaegar's offer to run had come at the right time, giving her a way out, and she had grabbed at it. Of course, it had helped that the Crown Prince was handsome and cultured. He had listened to her worries and fears and had kept her identity as the Laughing Knight a secret.
But now he was dead.
Lyanna's temper snapped. "His orders mean nothing now if he's dead! So keeping me in the dark is pointless. When exactly were you going to tell me? In five moons time when I give birth to the baby? A year from now? Five years from now? You were going to have to tell me at some point."
Silence greeted her words, the only noise the harsh panting of her breath. She let the pause extend for a while before speaking once more. "All three of you should be making plans to return to King's Landing to serve King Aerys, considering there is no royalty left here."
She saw Ser Oswell's eyes drop to her stomach and she mentally thanked him for the reminder of the power she had left.
"If you mean to remain here to protect an unborn babe then I demand you start to give me answers, and then we pack. I can still make it back to Winterfell before the babe is born."
The three Kingsguard looked at one another and Ser Gerold gave Ser Arthur a brief nod. "Ser Oswell, mayhaps we should take a walk. Make sure everything is as it should be."
Lyanna kept quiet as the Lord Commander and his knight left the tower, leaving just her and Ser Arthur in the main room.
"Please sit, Lady Lyanna," Ser Arthur said. No matter how many times she had told him to call her Lyanna, despite it just being her, Rhaegar and Ser Arthur, he had never complied and had rigidly stuck to the formalities.
She sat and folded her hands primly in her lap, amazed at just how docile she was managing to be despite her rapid heartbeat. If her father could see her now, he would have given her that smile, the special one he reserved just for her when she managed to conform to ladylike behaviour.
"You cannot return to Winterfell," Ser Arthur said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"What do you mean? Are you to take me to King's Landing?" Lyanna frowned as she asked. Rhaegar had spoken to her at length regarding his father, both here and at Harrenhal. She knew that he had had no plans to take her to the Red Keep until he had put his father into protective custody and taken the Iron Throne for himself.
Ser Arthur spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty before dropping them again, as if he was unsure of what to do or say. "I am not quite sure how to tell you this, my Lady, but there is war in Westeros, and the North marches under Lord Stark alongside Lord Baratheon, Lord Arryn and Lord Tully against the crown."
Her head spun wildly for a moment before it settled and she was able to get out a confused question. "Why would my father be in rebellion?"
Violet eyes filled with sorrow looked at her for a brief moment. "Not your father, my Lady, but your brother, Eddard."
"But…but it cannot be Ned. Ned isn't a lord. He is not Lord Stark. That is my father, and Brandon is his heir," Lyanna said in a breathless rush, her voice sounding small and childlike even to her own ears.
"I'm very sorry to have to break this news to you. Prince Rhaegar wanted to spare you, but Lord Stark and Brandon Stark are dead on the orders of the king."
For a moment, it seemed as if she could not breathe, air trapped in her throat until it was painful. Her pulse throbbed at her temple before she was gasping in huge shuddering gulps of air that burned her throat, her head shaking side-to-side as she tried to come to terms with the news.
Then a mist descended, and her temper erupted, and she was screaming as she threw everything she could get her hands on at Ser Arthur, cursing him and Rhaegar and anyone else who had denied her the news she deserved to know.
Lyanna was not sure how long had passed before riders once more came to the Tower of Joy. She kept to her room for the majority of her time. Whereas before she had made a concerted effort to get out and talk to the three knights, she now shunned them. She could not look upon them without seeing her father or brother's face. These men had been left to protect her, and she was under no illusion that they would, but they had been in King's Landing not that long ago. Had they been present when Mad King Aerys had killed her family? Had they watched in silence?
Ser Arthur was more often than not the one who would bring her food and enquire after her health, asking if she needed anything for herself or the babe, which always brought a bitter smile to her face. Would they have stayed if it were not for the babe? Or would they have left her here whilst they went back to serve the madman they called king?
Mayhaps she should have hated the babe that grew in her stomach. Rhaegar had been obsessed with his prophecy, determined that the dragon should have three heads, that it was needed for the Prince that was Promised. Without his need for a third child, a second daughter, a Visenya for his Rhaenys and Aegon, he would never have stolen her away from Winterfell, and her family would not have died for it. But she could not.
Instead, Lyanna hugged her arms tightly around her stomach, determined that a wolf and not a dragon was taking root. She whispered Stark history to her in the dead of the night, told her of the Kings of Winter, of the old gods, and the North. This babe would be a Stark, she promised, a fierce direwolf of the North. She could not birth a dragon, not now, the gods could not be so cruel.
However, the appearance of the riders roused her from her apathy and she cracked open her door as she heard them stamp into the tower. For a brief moment, when she had spotted them on the horizon, her heart had skipped a beat as she squinted into the glare of the hot Dornish sun, trying to see if the banners housed a running direwolf, if Ned had ridden south to bring her home, but her heart sunk as she saw the sword and the falling star of House Dayne.
Keeping out of sight whilst the riders remained, Lyanna waited impatiently whilst they were watered and fed before disappearing back into the mountains towards the Summer Sea.
Once more, she found herself descending to ferret out news. It appeared it was further bad news, as the Kingsguard looked as winded as they had on the previous occasion.
"What has happened now?" she asked wearily, not sure she even wanted the answer.
Ser Gerold made no attempt to hide anything from her this time. "King's Landing has fallen, my Lady. King Aerys slain by our brother, Jaime Lannister."
Lyanna felt a momentary stab of gratitude towards Jaime Lannister. She remembered him from the tourney of Harrenhal, a beautiful golden boy-knight, who had looked so proud to be given the white cloak of the Kingsguard. Now just a few years later, he had turned kingslayer, and she could not be sad. The monstrous king who had murdered her father and brother was dead at his hands, and for that she would celebrate his existence.
It wasn't long before she thought about what this would mean for her. With both King Aerys and Rhaegar dead, that meant a babe was king, with his mother as a powerful Queen Regent, and she had no idea if her presence would be welcomed.
"What does this mean for me? Aegon is king now, but will the Martells welcome me?"
Both Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur remained silent, leaving it up to Ser Oswell to answer. "Prince Aegon, Princess Rhaenys and the Princess Elia were all slain. Robert Baratheon now sits on the throne."
"Dead," Lyanna whispered. "But they were children. Aegon nothing but a babe."
"Tywin Lannister needed them out of the way," Ser Gerold said bitterly. "You cannot have children from an old regime running around waiting to challenge for the throne once they are grown."
Lyanna's heart jumped into her mouth and her hands flew to her stomach, and the three knights followed her movement.
"What are we going to do?" she asked. "They will kill my child."
"Tywin Lannister would cut her from your womb whilst you still breathe," Ser Gerold said, getting up so fast that his chair fell backwards, falling loudly onto the stone slabs, but it was his words and not the noise that rang in Lyanna's ears.
"We need to go," she said anxiously. "We need to get away from here."
"And go where, my Lady?" Ser Gerold asked warily, looking for all the world like a man at the end of his rope. A man who could not take any more blows.
"I cannot remain here. My presence will be discovered at some point, and I cannot hope that it will be my brother who finds me."
"Your brother," Ser Oswell snorted. "Eddard Stark had Rhaegar's children laid at his feet. Who is to say he wouldn't lay your own at Robert's?"
Lyanna spun to face him, her lips drawn back in fury. "My brother would never hurt me or my kin. If you think he would, then you nothing about the Starks."
He looked at her in scorn, and she had a glimpse into how she was viewed by him. It had her flinching away for a brief moment before she moved forward, ready to strike the insolent expression from his face.
She found her way blocked by Ser Arthur. "Stop it!" he ordered, looking at Ser Oswell. "Eddard Stark is an honourable man. My sister says he argued with Robert Baratheon over what happened. But we cannot wait to be discovered, we need to move."
"And go where?" Ser Oswell asked.
Ser Arthur looked pensive for a moment. "Dragonstone. Queen Rhaella is there with Viserys. We should go there to, bring what is left of the royal family together and protect them."
"Prince Rhaegar wanted us to remain here. It's remote and hard to find. We should remain and honour his wishes," Ser Oswell said.
Lyanna, not one to forget a slight, rounded on him. "Prince Rhaegar is dead. All that remains for me is death. It won't be long before I am looked for, and we cannot guarantee that it will be Ned who finds me. And if it's not the Lannisters then what about the Martells? They are much closer and just think what trouble they could ferment if they get their hands on my babe. We need to move."
Ser Oswell looked as if he was about to make another cutting remark, but Ser Gerold raised a hand. "Ser Arthur's suggestion has merit. But the Lady Lyanna should not set sail for Dragonstone, but to one of the free cities. Robert Baratheon will move against Dragonstone soon, so it would be prudent to separate the Targaryen heirs for now."
Lyanna could not help but feel a stab of resentment at how she was only worth this trouble because of what she carried in her womb, but she stifled it, knowing that she was reliant on these knights for now.
"Ser Arthur will go with Lady Lyanna whilst you and I will travel on to Dragonstone, Ser Oswell," Ser Gerold continued. "Pentos is probably the best city to head for. The Targaryens have friends there. You will have to travel down to Oldtown in disguise, and I suggest you retain that disguise until we join you in Pentos."
"Braavos," Lyanna interjected. "I will go to Braavos." She would go as close as she could get to the North, and when she was able, she would return to Winterfell and to Ned. Her child was not going to be used as a pawn in this game of thrones. It would see them both dead.
"My Lady," Ser Gerold said, frowning. "Pentos would be better."
She folded her arms across her chest. "I will go to Braavos, or I stay here."
"Lady Lyanna, please leave the plans in our hands," Ser Arthur said, entreating her with a small smile.
These Southrons knew nothing about Stark stubbornness, but she was more than willing to teach them. "I will only go to Braavos. If you wish to go to Pentos, then be my guest, but I will be boarding a ship to Braavos."
Lyanna heard Ser Oswell mutter about stubborn wenches under his breath, and she smiled wolfishly. "I am most certainly am, Ser Oswell, so it might be best for you if you remember how much you need me and what I am carrying right now."
"Braavos it is," Ser Arthur said dryly. Lyanna thought he was probably used to strong-willed women, having met his sister, Lady Ashara, at Harrenhal.
After the heat of Dorne, Braavos had been a welcome change for this daughter of the North. She had arrived there exhausted from the journey from the Tower of Joy and heavy with child. She'd spent most of her days confined to the bed, not out of choice, but because of need, whilst Ser Arthur had sallied forth each morning seeking news from the docks and also to find her an experienced woman to help her with her lying in. They had been lucky in the latter, but the former brought nothing but bad news.
Now a year later, as she sat gazing down at the downy head of her babe sleeping in his crib, she smiled. He was perfect. Rhaegar might not have thought so, so set had he been on the idea that any child of their union would be a girl, had to be a girl, a Visenya for his Aegon.
But the gods had answered one thing for her, as her babe was all Stark with no hint of Targaryen. His hair was the dark brown of her own and his eyes were the grey of the Stark banners. She had named him for her family also. Not Brandon or Rickard or anything that came with too much pain. That grief was raw and festered in her soul, coming to the surface in her darkest moments.
Ser Arthur argued that her son had been born a Targaryen king in exile but she had named him for a King of Winter, Jon, the king who drove out sea raiders from White Harbour and built the Wolf's Den. Ser Arthur had turned his mouth down at that name, suggesting instead the name Daeron, which he had called the babe whilst she had been ill with birthing fever. Lyanna had laughed and refused, stating that Starks had ruled the North for eight thousand years, whilst the Targaryens had only managed three hundred and that was mainly because of dragons. That had caused Ser Arthur to frown and look disapproving, but he had not argued, for which Lyanna was grateful. She was too tired for that sort of activity.
Lyanna had been lucky to survive the birth, the midwife had told her, as she had lost a lot of blood. She had drifted in and out of consciousness for half a moon's turn, but luckily, with the remedies and care available in Braavos, she had recovered and had been grateful that she had insisted on leaving the Tower of Joy behind, sure that she would've not have survived there. It had taken many moons, and she had been unable to nurse her son, but she was still here and able to care for the babe on her own.
A thud below made her lift her head from where she was contemplating her son. It heralded the return of Ser Arthur. Usually he took time to remove the dirt from outside before he would hesitantly venture into her room and enquire after her and Jon. Today, however, his feet clattered up the stairs immediately, and he burst into the room.
"Dragonstone has fallen," he panted. "The royal children are here in Braavos with Ser Willem Darry."
Lyanna's heart fell. This was the worst possible news after they had settled so well in the city as a married couple who had fled the bloodshed in Westeros. Ser Arthur had secured a job as a guard in the citadel which paid them enough coin to live satisfactorily. It was not the luxury that she had grown up in, but neither was it the penury that she had seen on the streets of the city. She had enjoyed leaving the burden of being Rhaegar's runaway bride behind, and she certainly did not want her child to live a life where he was a banner for fallen dreams and hopes.
"The children? Where is Queen Rhaella? Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell?"
Ser Arthur's face took on the sad expression she had seen so often since the news of Rhaegar's death on the banks of the Trident had reached them. "The Queen perished in the child bed, giving birth in the middle of the storm that sunk the Targaryen fleet. Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell died defending Dragonstone and giving Ser Willem a chance to flee with the children. Princess Daenerys is naught but a babe in arms."
Lyanna looked down at her own sturdy little babe and vowed there and then that she would not join up with his remaining aunt and uncle. She might be their goodsister, but she could give them nothing, and they could do nothing for her or Jon in return.
"No," she said baldly.
"What?" Ser Arthur asked, confused.
"I know what it is that you want, and I refuse. I will not go to Ser Willem and the children. I will not take Jon there."
Ser Arthur sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "We cannot remain like this. Jon is the rightful king. It is right that he unites with his family and fights for what is rightfully his."
Lyanna scoffed. "The Targaryens conquered Westeros with fire and blood, and they have lost Westeros the same way. There is no rightful ruler, only those with the power to take the throne. A babe of barely one year is not going to rally men around him."
In the two years since Lyanna had left Winterfell, she had lost any remaining girlhood dreams. Once she had loved songs and those who inhabited them, but experience had taught her that life was not a song. She had learnt it the hard way and through the blood of her kin, but she would not fall victim to the same ideals again.
"Westeros is lost to the Targaryens," she said turning away.
"Where is it you want to go then?" Ser Arthur asked, frustration heavy in his voice.
"Home. To Winterfell."
"You think you can return back to the North with a Targaryen babe in tow? You know what Robert Baratheon did to the Princess Elia and her children. Do you think he would really spare you and Jon?"
Lyanna was under no illusions where her former betrothed was concerned. She knew that if he caught wind of her survival and that she had Rhaegar's child, he would drag Jon kicking and screaming from her arms and kill him.
But Ned. She knew Ned would shelter her and protect his nephew. He would keep her safe, but just her reappearance in Westeros would bring him into conflict with Robert, and she could not put him that position. It would mean war between the two foster brothers because Ned would never give her or Jon up.
A tear slipped down her cheek that she wiped angrily away. "I know," she said, defeated.
"We cannot remain here forever, my Lady. At some point news of us will slip out. I have already encountered Stark men at the Arsenal and the Citadel. They ask of news regarding a missing Lady Lyanna Stark, and it will not be long before Robert Barathon sends men for Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys."
It was the first that Lyanna had heard about any men of her brother's in Braavos, and the thought that he still searched for her warmed her heart. They had heard news over the past year that he had travelled throughout Westeros looking for her, and it had torn at her heart that she could not send word that she was fine and well.
However, a plan had been formulating in Lyanna's mind, ever since she had started to tell Jon stories from the North. Stories she had learnt sitting at Old Nan's knee and later recreated with Benjen in the Godswood. It was foolhardy, and she would have trouble getting Ser Arthur to agree, but it was the one place where no one would think to look for her.
Lyanna turned back to face the faithful Kingsguard and said, "I want you to enquire about ships going to Eastwatch-by-Sea."
"Eastwatch-by-Sea? You want to go to the Wall?"
"No, I want to go to the land beyond the Wall."