"I'm going."
I was Barely four and ten name-days at the time, when the news reached the entirety of the realm of how my father and my elder brother were viciously murdered by King Aerys, after my father challenged the King to a Trial by Combat, all while his KingsGuard unfazed of the destruction gazed at my father burn. They spoke the names of the cowards that didn't acted, one of them Jamie Lannister. As always, those crud Andal Lions have something to do with the disgraces of the North one way or another. I wanted to go and face him, I didn't knew if brother knew of him or not, but I wasn't going to let it go unpunished.
"You need me Eddard. They were my family too. Lya is my sister just as much as she is yours!"
I cried out, bellowed, roared at my brother to let me take up arms alongside him, but I could already hear my heart beat skipping in fear due to the fact that I knew what he was going to say.
"Benjen, Father and Brandon are dead. A stark must always remain in winterfell and protect the children brother. My Lady Wife Catelyn could very well be carrying a Stark in her belly already. The chances of Catelyn actually bearing my child is slim to none. If I die you become Lord of Winterfell and the King in the North and protector of the Children."
"Ned."
Staying like that for a short amount of time, Ned releases me from the embrace not removing his hands though, squeezing my shoulders instead, the way father used to do when we did well on a hunting trip.
"It would be a lie if I don't admit I feel better knowing you are here. I don't want to lose any more family Ben, nor do I want to risk Catelyn. She shall be new to the North and does not know of our ways, of the children, of the giants, of the Wildlings and the Watch, of the enemy harassing every winter night. I need you to be here to protect her, to protect winterfell, protect our way of life and our culture, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. This time, you're that Stark Benjen. Please keep out home safe." Brother wore Aeglos, the Armor of the Stark Heirs whenever they march to war on the south, though due to the status of not being a heir, he took it after himself to wear it. It made my heart feel at ease for as no other metals except Dragonglass and Fire could ever cause a minor dent on that armor.
And I didn't cry, not at that moment.
"I will Ned. Please, bring Lyanna back."
"I will try Ben, if she still lives I will bring her home."
Howland Reed walked over to us, still short to the rest of the men but he looks healthier now. Happier as he had been before the war broke out. I took the arm of my brother's old friend and beseech him a promise.
"Watch out for my brother."
"Always. Just as you all had watched out for me." Howland swears and telling ned its time to go. Maester Luwin's cough of that last winter lingers, my heart fears for him, for the last vestige the family had in our loyal maester being claimed by the winter. As Father, Brandon and Lyanna were.
As the horses marched out, Winterfell was left alone and the North left without all of its Lords, in the second Half of Winter before the Spring. Never has the North been so vulnerable since the times of the Long Night, and never has Winterfell been so lonely.
"*Cough* *Cough*."
I turned to glance at Maester Luwin staring at the retreating Stark Lord, Uelin, the forest child in the care of the Stark's godswood escorted my side. Sharing with me the painful moment of seeing brother go.
"Come boy, I have to start teaching you your duties."
I dourly nodded in acceptance, no Stark of Winterfell can just be standing there doing nothing, winter is still going on and probably a Stark will be needed.
That winter was cold that each time I remember it it still makes my spine shiver, Maester Luwin prepared me as much as he could for my role as Lord Stark during the second Half of Winter, as a war was fought in the south. And with tragedy winter claimed Maester Luwin's life, with him going away for me any hopeful feelings I had.
In what used to be his office, now empty by the housemaids to prepare for the next Maester to come, if there will ever be a next time for House Stark that is. The following week after Maester Luwin's death I hopefully waited for my Brother's letter or any news regarding him, but sadly, I found none. And each time I turned a glance to Uelin she remained silent with an apologetic glance, this much silence makes my heart feel weighted and blinds my emotions.
*Knock* *Knock*
"Enter." Dully replying to the Guard knocking I was received respectfully by the few dozens of the Castle's guard left.
"Lord Benjen, men from Bear Island have come."
"Receive them with their due guest right Ser and have their grievances written, I…I shall wait for my brother's letter here."
The sole member of the pack now, Eddard has left it and now is the lone wolf that goes to the south. There is however no time to mingle himself with the thoughts of the realm when his brother is fighting outside against the Kingdoms.
Silence
Uelin said that day. A knock was heard and I turned, grunting.
"Enter."
The door was opened by Lady Maege Mormont, aunt to the heir of Bear Island. The Guard interrupted.
"I apologize for interrupting you m'Lord, but our visit was quite adamant in seeing you."
"Lady Maege, I assure you that the moment we can have disposition of grain and goods you'll be notified."
I droned not even turning at them at all, turning once more my attention to the table, waiting for my brother's letter to magically appear.
"Calm down pup, we come here to confirm that we accept your formal request to have my daughter Dacey as your company during your regency as Lord Stark." I slowly turned to them, not exactly knowing what they talked about.
Then I realized it. And my eyes started to grow watery.
It was Maester Luwin whom knew the winter was going to take him and wanted me not to be alone in Winterfell. Lady Maege and her daughter, a dark haired maiden three name-days his minor at most. House Mormont based in Bear Island on the Northwest. Actually Ser Jorah Mormont took south with his brother Eddard, leaving the temporary leadership to his aunt, since his father Jeor took the mantle of Lord Commander of the Night-s Watch after his wife died of her third miscarriage. A stout, dark-haired woman and a fierce warrior dressed in patched ringmail with her favored weapon a spiked mace.
Called by many as the Legendary She-Bear of Bear Island, for the many Iron-born Raids she stopped and pirates she claimed with her mace. Bear Island is the poorest of our vassals and the ones whom receive less, the Winters on Bear Island have made their people gruff and rough, even more than ours in the mainland. Due to their poverty they hand out part of little they have as tax and are given just the same amount in spare, most of what they have is spent in a constant battle against the Iron Born assaults. Lady Maege has only one daughter, probably would have a second by now probably, in case Ser Jorah ever perishes in the rebellion. Turning to Lady Maege, opening my dried mouth about to explain them the situation.
"I apologize my Lady, but, M-m-maester L-luwin wrote the letter without my knowledge." Arising my head, ready to face the consequences and with a sullen face I continued.
"We just buried Maester Luwin yesterday after the winter took him."
"On behalf of house Mormont you have our condolences my Lord." Lady Dacey, a maiden of mere ten name-days spoke kind words I haven't heard and that we weren't allowed to feel yet, for as war has been set on our hearts ever since father and brandon went to the south.
"I shall leave you two cubs alone."
"A-."
"It all started with a simple slight. A pair of southern Reach knights mocked Howland Reed and picked on him, Lyanna defended Howland and scared the knights off as she swung a sword wildly." I laughed when Lyanna nagged to me cursing about pompous southern knights.
"She promised Howland justice, therefore she registered to the Joust just as the knights that mocked him, stealing some gold coins from father's and Brandon's purses she bought an impromptu armor, took a Rivermen steed and asked for her sigil to be a green tree with laughing faces. Entering to the Tourney of Harrenhall as the knight of the Laughing tree. She defeated the first knight in the melee yet nobody noticed it since she scurried away during the wild charge of the free for all." He smiled in remembrance how his sister looked epic unseating southern knights.
"The second and Third Knights were unseated in the jousts, one after the other, she never got down of the horse." He closed his eyes and his eyes grew bitter. "But King Aerys hated mystery knights, he was paranoid and seeing enemies everywhere. He demanded for the Knight's head to be brought before him and the Prince Rhaegar sought out and found Lyanna hiding in the household of a small-folk trader. There is where they both met, and where Rhaegar fell for my sister and my sister…fell for him."
A gasp was heard in the room and I bit my lip.
"N-n-Ned insisted to father Rickard to marry Robert to Lyanna, she hated Robert, he lied with every woman in the realm and already had an unrecognized bastard. And Father in his wisdom followed Ned's advice, I tried convincing father otherwise knowing that if I told Ned I would hurt his heart, but…but Father was unmoving. I told her, I told Lya I tried but I failed. She told me of the letters, of the correspondence in secret she kept with the Prince and the Princess. Princess Elia had a stillbirth that almost took her life, they replaced Aegon with a bastard in hopes for Rhaegar finding a new wife to sire a prince. Lya loved the Prince and wished to be with him. I told her to speak with father and make him understand, but all she did was hold my shoulder and tell me It will be alright, before you know it, I'll bring Rhae and Ellia for our wedding in the Godswood, with the Children singing and the Old Gods to watch. But she needed a day, a date and a moment to do so…and I, I made that moment. I rushed my brother Brandon's wedding to Catelyn in the Riverlands and before Maester Luwin could read the letter, with the help of Uelin's advice I forged Lord Hoster's letter and have Brandon go a few days in the Riverlands before the wedding."
…
"And when Father went to say his goodbye's to Brandon, in the Godswood gate. Rhaegar came with Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent; I saw her go with them. It was all my fault." I couldn't handle my sadness anymore, at the tragedy of my household caused by by own foolishness in attempting to give Lyanna a chance." I hung my head and cried, not without however finding myself in her arms.
Prologue
The Silent Wolf Awakens
The battle of the trident was a mess, a holy mess. A damnable mess, floods of men fought and battled. They battled fiercely, they battled well and they gave their all. He fought alongside many riverlanders against rebellious riverlander lords, with such Eddard tried. Truly tried to make them yield. But war was war and Uelin's lessons were now more onto him than ever.
An unmovable wolf before the chaotic fires you are. Had it easy did you hmm? We'll see, we'll see.
As he was healed, he walked out into a tent with many Stormlanders and Robert's men, where Jon Arryn emerged from Robert's private tent with a frown on his face. He looked older, even more than he already was, as he walked. Men opening before him. "Robert, we have to talk about the Throne."
Robert at the moment was bedridden and heavily ailed in health. In the Trident; Robert not only had to Face Rhaegar and the Loyalists Forces of the Tyrell, but also Rhaegar's personal guard was formed with heavily poisoned Dornish spears, right now. Maesters were heavily working with his body to bring it back to health. "I shall take the throne." Robert Boomed from his bedridden state to all the Lords whom orchestrated the Rebellion, the Stormlords roared for King Robert, yet in his mind it flashed before him. His father and his elder brother.
Justice…
"No." The silence grew defiant and all stares turned toLord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Jon Arryn tried to speak to him, but he pushed his surrogate father away.
"The throne is mine Robert. I have to sit in it and get my justice. You swore your vows to obtain justice for my father, for my elder brother and for my Sister Lyanna." Many Lords were silent as the Demon of the Trident grew silent and stared at his best friend. "Let me take the throne, for only a day. The north is owed blood Robert, I must sit on it." Eddard Stark stared firmly to Robert, not ceading any less than what is worth and Robert's serious face was enough to even shock the Lords.
"Then it's yours Ned, or should I say. Your Grace." He stated with a smirk as Eddard gently smiled and stared at Robert.
"For Lyanna Robert."
"For Lyanna." Robert stated equally serious and turned to all the Lords of the Rebellion.
"You heard Ned! He's now the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Bow to him as I would if I were in a better state." Robert boomed to everyone around and soon all the Lords of the Rebellion chanted out loudly for King Eddard Stark. As he looked into the denizens of people that praised his name already. In there was his surrogate father Jon Arryn which casted him a kind smile.
"You did it Ned, they are chanting for you." His surrogate father said and stated to speak. "When we get to King's Landing-."
"All those that were involved with the deaths of my father, my brother and my sister's kidnapping shall meet northern justice Jon. The north is owed, I don't care if you or the others roar against it. People are going to be beheaded, that's a promise." He stated to his father figure whose face scrunched up in horror.
"You cannot do that Ned." Jon Arryn reprimanded his surrogate son for even daring to even make acts of more war when it was the time to heal the realm. "While on other maters i would've agreed with you Jon. I cannot with this one, i cannot let what they've done to my brother and my sister go...unpunished. Would you have let those who might've harmed your family go away Jon?"
"Do you believe me i would've allowed that to happen Ned? Have my teachings gone wrong with you?" He asked which caused the young Stark Lord now be crestfallen. "No Jon, I..." He tried to speak yet his surrogate father could only nod. "Don't let your feelings blind you Ned. Right now we've won, we cannot let the realm be broken apart."
With a dismissing nod, he was gone. In the fields of the Trident, away from the camps, was a lonely Weirwood tree. Sitting in it, he meditated on his decisions today.
'Why did I got involved in this. My way is in the north?' He asked yet however he also pondered on it. 'Father was killed, Brandon also. They were killed in the south, they were going to kill me. My sister was kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar, never has my family been so slighted as it has been today. Justice must be imparted.' His resolute thoughts got him to be unbiased on what he had to do. Even if he was fostered in the south, his heart is of the north and he knows that the Northern justice is to take heads and nothing else.
The one who passes the sentence, should swing the sword.
With that adage his very father lectured him the first time he saw his father behead a traitor of the Night's Watch. It was a crass reminder of how justice is taken in the North. He holds an extreme loyalty to his best friend Robert, he marched alongside him when King Aerys called for his head and Jon Arryn's. Robert showed inspiring loyalty in the south as he crossed the north to get to winterfell and call banners. Robert had family yet to go, he lost no one in this war except minor lords and soldiers, he hoped his friend understood why he was doing all this. Yes, even though he cared not for his siblings, they were still his. To Robert Stannis iss a stiff prick and Renly a little baby prancing around the castle in Storm's End. He did not love them, and if given a choice, he would have Ned as a brother instead of the lot of them. To Robert Ned is his real brother. And he didn't had to say more about people speaking of the glorious Robert Baratheon defeating Rhaegar under the Loyalists that now have thrown the towel. Defeating Prince Rhaegar Targaryen in the Battle of the Trident, and already he heard of how Robert smashed Rhaegar's ruby-encrusted breastplate with his warhammer, sending the jewels scattered in the water. The village people had already started searching for the So-called jewels scattered in the waters. Each of course would be able to fetch a high price, of course, it had been the power to bring a poor man to riches if the money gained was spent wisely.
"Come on Ned." Rickard Karstark offered a hand on his right shoulder, perhaps they already heard of the brief argument he had with Robert and how he used their vīlībāzma-tindon or cause of war for short against him taking the throne and instead now the prospect to King of the Seven Kingdoms and with the claim was dismissed in favor of Eddard Stark getting justice for the North. Maege Mormont also was there as he tried to comb his hair.
"Can I come inside?" Jon Arryn his surrogate father approached to him and he nodded, allowing him entrance. Once inside the tent where he saw in a chair, ignoring the table and everything else.
"You weren't made for the south Ned. You should've married Catelyn without protesting."
"The woman that was supposed to be my Brother's Jon? Even that's a low for me. I married to fulfill an alliance, Yet...i know I will grow to love her and my son she carries."
Jon Arryn sighed, and he didn't cared his surrogate's disappointment in that regard. When they marched through Riverrun Hoster tried to marry him with Catelyn to keep his oath to her, it was there where he was angered and snapped at the bastard. He made it clear that Oaths kept by his father and brandon were to his father and to brandon. But as Lord he'll fulfill his duty.
I shall marry, however I shan't rest until i get my OWED justice.
He didn't meant to snap at Hoster that way or to upset the Riverlords but it was necessary for him to emphasize that he wasn't going to be merry. Not when he grieved his family members and where he felt vengeful and with a deep thirst for justice.
"Robert conceaded the Throne to you Ned. There are things you need to know. We must not-." Before Jon could go on Howland Reed got inside the tent. "Lord Stark, we've found Lyanna."
The Red Mountains
The Northern Army Rushed southward, leaving only a tiny batallion lead by Lord Roose Bolton, after Lord Howland Reed a faithful friend of the Starks told him of Lyanna's location he immediately took path with the entirety of the Northern army and went to the so called Tower of Joy in the Red Mountains, taking the Prince's Pass as a way to do so. The trotting of horses was the only sound that lead him, his men had very few days of rest and the army had so too except but a stop a fay before the arrival to the 'Tower of Joy'. As dust kicked up all around the horses, he rode down the desert road alongside his army. As they drew closer to their goal, the long shadow of a single, imposing stone tower began to cover their approaching line with the setting of the sun.
'This is where he held her.' He thought with anger as he trotted his horse faster.
Go Ned, take the northern army if you have to and find my Lyanna. I'll stay here and stop my newly acquired kingdoms from falling into the claws of Tywin fucking Lannister.
Those were the words his closest friend, a man he considered as much as a brother to him as Brandon and Benjen are. The last words of Robert Baratheon, First of His name before he left to find Lyanna. That was a lie, those weren't the last words he heard Robert say. But he decided not to think about the argument he had with Robert about killing the innocent dragon princelings and the fate the Royal family had in store.
Honor!? I've got Seven Kingdom's to Rule. One King, Seven Kingdoms. Will honor keep them in line? It's fear! FEAR AND BLOOD!
I'll have no part in it.
A shameful argument but one he had to stand on, he cared less if the entirety of the Camp on the Trident Heard; might as well the realm hear that he's against killing children. Lest he left Robert after he once again had an spiteful angered fit. He followed him to war without second thoughts, or hesitations yet in that endeavor of killing children and women he wasn't going to agree with, regardless of how things were, it wasn't the way thinks worked nor how he was educated. He grimly stared at the horizon, it seems that in the short time of holding power or even a tiny nimble of it, makes people mad. He was meant not to be Lord of anything, nevermind the Lord Paramount of the biggest kindom in westeros, alas also the poorest one. Yet he was because of his brother's recklessness and the madness of a King.
He would've been happy earning his way in this shit-world through a number of different ways. It didn't truly matter as long as he stayed North of the Neck. His youngest surviving brother, Benjen at the moment was doing his own battle by battering through the season while being the Stark in winterfell. Alone, in winterfell. He could only shiver at what his brother might feel. As his eyes stared at the base of the tower, he saw three figures wearing the unmistakeable white cloaks and silver armor with the tri-headed dragon sigil emblazoned on their chest-plates, singling out the members of Aerys Targaryen's kingsguard. The three most famous of them, of course only lacking one which already was defeated in the trident Ser Barristan Selmy. Ser Arthur Dayne, the sword of the Morning moved deliberatedly to meet the oncoming army upon spotting the approach, the hilt of the famous greatsword Dawn, poking over his right shoulder.
Ser Oswell Whent, who had been previously sharpening his blade with a whetstone on one knee, got up and quickly followed Ser Arthur's side, the bat sigil of House Whent prominently displayed on his helmet.
And the WHite Bull himself, Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard fierce and firm despite his advanced age. The army and themselves have stopped long ago. In his head his only dream was to reunite to his sister, return to winterfell. Take a hold of the North, embrace his little brother again, marry to a Northern woman and holding his baby son in his arms and never see any southern banners hanging up again truly made him feel happy and blissful at the thought. Yet, reality was harsher to him and it never granted dreams to be true. Instead he was obstructed in his path by what could be last and strongest of Aerys Targaryen's kingsguard. He motioned his head towards his comrades; all were lords of northern houses or aspiring lords of northern houses.
William Dustin, his elder brother's squire Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Ser Mark Ryswell, Rickard Karstark, Howland Reed, Jeor Mormont.
Arthur sized the army and the men before him.
"Lord Stark." Ser Arthur greeted curtly, giving a sad smile and a small nod in acknowledgement.
"Ser Arthur." He returned. "I sought you out at the thrident. Why were you not there to protect your prince?"
"Our Prince wanted us here." Ser Gerold replied coldly, answering the question many had partially.
"Woe to your usurper have we been. His body lying beneath that river." Ser Oswell injterjected, as a smug, almost wistful smirk graced his lips. "Though it would seem our prince managed to ensure at least that much in the end, with the last honors done by a wine-induced puddle of his own making." The comment caused a few quick cuckles from all three men as he stood there shocked. He stood shocked as Ser Arthur slowly reached in and took out a scroll from underneath his breastplate. As he did so he grunted and massaged his forehead, if Robert was dead. Who lead the army? Who was the head of the rebellion? Who was going to rule the realm? Did he killed the children?
"Impossible." He stammered in disbelief. It was impossible. Robert was this titan, a giant. Hardly anything got him to be at the floor. Yes, Robert had been grievously injurted after Rhaegar's stab which somehow pierced his armor, where he then proceeded to slash through Robert's hip during the battle. Add that the vicious Dornish spears which were all poisoned. So much was Robert wounded that many maesters had to be issued to heal Robert and the march was going to be delayed because he refused to be humiliatingly brought on a carriage.
"We just received word from the capital from a…knowledgeable source. The whoring Stag is dead before he could even be crown. Woe to him truly, I hope he burns in the seven hells for what he did."
He saw red and glared at them three, how dare they misjudge Robert for what he did when their Prince did worse. Way worse.
"What He did? Are you japing? You, three so-called knights. Standing here cursing my friend while keeping my only sister captive…" He wondered out softly as he stared at the dirth path that lay between the two groups. "Robert…" He thought out loud sadly.
His brother by choice and the King he would've pledged himself and the North to, was gone. How? Why? The shock left him numb. As he heard many gasps around him. Damn, the realm would feel it. And it was perhaps ser Arthur's pity who finally brought him out of a stupor with a question.
"So, Lord Stark. In whose name will your army march upon us now?"
Robert
Dead…
He took a shaky breath, staring at his men, then back to the three knights. It didn't work to collect himself. The world was entirely spinning. How could this world make now so little sense after only a short seconds? However it all was interrupted by a sharp anguished cry from atop the tower of joy. The knights and his own eyes snapped upwards in direction of the tower.
"Lyanna!" He cried out his sister's name in anguish as he sprinted towards the tower, by the time he took sprint the knights could only remain in their post and glance at the men before them. For a piece of moment, everything else was gone from his head and in his thoughts was only his little sister. The one he failed to protect. How could he be so obsessed over his dead friend and forget he still had a living sister, a sister who cried out in pain and needed him now. He climbed the stairs as his heart beated against his chest, threatening to go out of his body. Yet he resisted and went on, regardless of his own discomfort or pain. It was a long way, heacy and it had no end. As he heard whimpers and pants of pain, each time beinglouder and louder it gave him more energy as he grutned and went on the steps. Yet his mind felt fear, he felt fear.
He briefly remembered Robert's cries and promises of revenge against the Dragon Prince, however at the same time as he dismissed it he shook his head and resisted the urge to facepalm. How could henot see it? It was all a lie. And it started since Harrenhall. If only he recognized the signs he wouldn't have done what he did.
'I'm sorry.' He resisted the urge to cry and just kneel as he reached the end of the stairwell at last, a single wooden door in front of him as he bursted right through it. He was met with a startled chorus of surprised cries from several different women, mixed with agonized groans coming from the center of the room. His sister, right there in a bed. Bedridden, and taking several pained breathes as she laid there. Immediately rushing to her side and ropping on a knee to be at level with her, taking a hold of her glossy and clammy hand in concerned fright. Her eyes fluttered open and titled her face to meet his own desperate eyes.
"Ned…?" She asked in dazed wonderment and disbelief. "Its really you…?" Tears cascaded down her eyes as she spoke, he nodded, his own cascading too.
"I'm here Lyanna." He answered with a breaking voice as his face held a grimace and closed his eyes to let them cascade from his eyes.
"I shouldn't have."
"Please brother, I missed you." She said softly with a small smile despite the obvious pain. "Is it true…is, Is robert dead?"
"Y-ye-yes. I believe so." He gave a blank stare as he gazed at the ernest hope etched within her question.
"Thank the gods." She sobbed in relief. The gods answered her prayers This made him wince however. To see his sister so happy at the news of her betrothed and his best friend's death, a man who'd loved her desperately and went to war in order to win her back, it pained him more than when he heard of his friend's passing.
FEAR, FEAR AND BLOOD!
The insane call his friend battered against him still made him shiver. Robert's ancestors were Targaryen, did that meant that he was maddened too. And he brought Lyanna near that?
She cried out suddenly, shaking him out of his melancholic daydreams and the grip of her hand tightened.
"Lyanna, what's wrong?" Panic overshook him as he scanned her body to try and find source to her anguish. His eyes widening as they landed on a large bulge pushing out from beneath the blankets.
"Is…is that…?" He stammered in shock, comprehension dawning on him. She was pregnant. And the only father could be…
"Yes!" She gasped. "It's our child,Ned." She breathed out in shattered breaths, trying to remain calm. He felt himself be pulled to her as he gazed back to her, her voice pleaded and was remorseful. "We ran away and married Ned. In both of our faiths; Rhaegar didn't kidnap me. I LOVE HIM! Brandon and Father…they, they didn't had to die! We, we didn't think…and when we finally heard about what happened it was already too late. Then you called banners to overthrow the Targaryen, and I was already pregnant. We…we both knew Robert and the other Lords wouldn't forgive us. Will…will my child die as his did?" She asked fearful and Ned spoke out rapidly.
"No, by the Old Gods Lyanna, No."
He closed his eyes.
"I argued against it, against him doing it. For the Old Gods I swore they were innocent in this Lyanna, I tried to argue with him but…but he was maddened. Something took over him, I don't know. He would just preach our Fear and Blood out loud at me as a motive to do that."
"Gaemon won't ever fall. He's the best of us."
Eddard looked down in utter depsair, groaning in anguish. All his family had suffered, everything they'd put the realm through, for nothing. One irratonal tyrant and a big misunderstanding caused by two people in love. Why were the Gods so cruel and played games with them?
His sister screamed suddenly, writhing now as the women around came up to her. Placing a wet towel on her head, while drawing a blanket up now and preparing fresh water basins. He turned around near.
"MAESTER! We need a maester."
The grim looks all the ladies and that Ser Arthur gave him was enough to make him swallow and only cry even more, as he held his sister's hands. As her grip ever so slowly turned weaker and weaker.
"Protect him brother…please. Promise me." He looked into her anguished eyes as they tried to cling to the light of life yet they dulled with the shadow of death.
"Promise me."
"I'll protect him Lyanna, I promise."
"Promise me Ned, make him greater than the conciliator. You have to, promise me ned."
"I…"
He swallowed and leaned his forehead to her hand.
"i promise Lyanna, I'll protect protect him for you, always."
Baby cries were heard as blood continued to flow from her body.
"It's a boy!" The maid's cries filled the room as the baby was received and cries were heard. Embracing the baby in her arms, he dedicated some of her last breaths to the young baby before once more handing him and weakly, she turned to the nightstand next to her bedside.
She reached for the crown of winter roses that laid there. And with effort pulled the flowers to her chest and closed her eyes, taking several slow, deep, breaths, inhaling their scent. And then a few, agonizing, moments later. She stopped breathing.
Her grip slackened in his hand and finally went limp. All the three knights cried alongside the maids, Gaemon's cries filled the chillying silence.
After a long moment, he finally let go, petals from the winter roses scattering across the bed in its wake.
He turned away from her lifeless form, if he wanted to remember her he shall for when she was alive and not in her death. Pulling his nephew into his shoulder, crying into the sleepy child. Listening to his steady breath and feeling the slight rhythmic pulse of the babe's tiny heartbeat. He poured out his grief, his despair, and his anguish, trying to take comfort in the warmth next to him, desperately wanting to feel life somewhere now that the stranger has claimed another one he loved.
He just stood there…helplessly weeping for a long time.
Honor!? Do you think honor will keep seven kingdoms in line?
Robert's words clashed with Lyanna's pleas, as his thoughts whirled at the implications Lyanna said. She wa right. The lords of the realm will try to go for her son as Robert tried for Elia's. Gaemon was not safe, even without the threat of Robert's wrath hanging over his head. The Lords would try to use him, manipulate him, perverse him, pit him against his own family for the sake of their southern games. They'd control him in order to further their own positions and power, or dispose of him if he proved to be an obstacle to such ambition.
The all die!
Robert's words made his whole body tense and so instinctively he augmented his protective hold over the baby, allowing a fierce sense of protectiveness to wrap itself around him. His grip causing Gaemon to fuss a bit in response, causing him to loosen it slightly. He whispered his apologies to the boy; he could only sigh in sadness. The boy was a perfect amalgamation of both; he had the dragon prince's hair, a perfect match of targaryen purple and stark gray, the dragon prince's nose and long face yet everything else spoke of Lyanna it was quite frightening yet also reassuring. And finally, on his ears, he had the characteristic elven-like ears that Lyanna and Brandon used to have, ancestry coming from their Ice Elf mother, Lady Lyarra.
He won't allow it to happen again. Wouldn't let it happen to this boy who looked back at him with those gray-tinted intense violet eyes. He shuddered at the thought, however. It is because he knows where this line of thinking would lead him. Descending ever so slowly the stairs of the tower of joy; he would let the maids and sisters prepare his sister's body for her burial, he…he will take her back to winterfell himself.
On the base of the tower, outside it; the Northern Lords were waiting to hear the news of their Lord and their respective Lady Lyanna. When he emerged to meet them all, a heavy silence basked him as he emerged with a baby on his arms. Lord Jeor Mormont's eyes didn't need to wrap any further conclusion than the obvious.
As Eddard approached to them, he could only hand his head.
"She loved him. She loved him and they were married in both faiths. She…she died in birth." He confessed as he hung his head, the first ones to rub his back and firmly hold his shoulder were Howland Reed and Rickard Karstark.
"What do we do now?" Maege Mormont asked between the lines of men, the She-Bear and Jeor's sister asked gruffly to him as he frowned.
"We march back to King's landing. My nephew Gaemon is the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne."
This caused Lord Jeor Mormont to cross his arms.
"You realize he's too young to rule, moreover Westeros hasn't had a child king in over two centuries. The last time being when the dragons danced."
Eddard shook his head as he tried to speak but he couldn't.
"Robert is dead, which leaves the Iron Throne with no clear succesor. Some rebellion we had." Rickard answered scoffing as he crossed his arms, which made him shiver.
Without a clear sucesor or leader to rally behind the Seven Kingdoms, things could fracture. The Rebellion could spill into a chaotic free-for-all anarchy and civil war as the various lords carved the country up for themselves. Such a scenario would endanger everyone, the north, westeros, his family and Gaemon. Such had to be avoided at all costs.
It would be a terrible burden to bear. Not just for Ned, but for this child as well as he grew into his majority. If he managed to grow up at all.
Whatever thought he had of escaping into the North with his nephew was not an option anymore. His nephew's fate would always be tied to the Iron Throne and the realm as a whole. Whether he sat on it or not. And not to sit on it now would deprive him the use of the power and fear it commanded, even as the envy and greed it garnered remained. And Ned couldn't hope to fend off either of those unless he himself was in an actual position of strength to help his nephew.
"What will you do now, Eddard?"
Ser Arthur's voice broke through the silence, as he finally realized he's been sobbing so much. As he took one final ragged breath, he finally looked at last towards the Sword of the Morning and answered, newfound resolution burning in his eyes.
"Keep my promise." His firm voice was all he needed to reaffirm himself and his men of his promise towards his sister. All else was irrelevant.
"Then we must send a letter to Queen Dowager Rhaella. She's owed at least this to ease her heart." Lord Commander Gerold Hightower sharply spoke as he approached, the line, Ser Oswell whent by his side as they both settled their glances to Eddard and his nephew Gaemon. Eddard settled into a nod.
"Aye, a letter to Dragonstone would be a good thing. For us all to meet in King's Landing. Let them have their time to prepare for leaving."
Rhaella Targaryen
A pair of purple eyes glanced at the beauty of the island of Dragosntone from a window of the castle. It was hard to believe that this island has seen so much history of her household, and nowadays; it would be here where her family's legacy ends. The castle stood at the tallest spot the island had, allowing a clear view of the ocean, yet also allowing to see the waves being broken so abruptly when met with the rocks.
Dragonstone used to be a place which was the seat of power of the Targaryen, where the Princes of the Realm dwelled and learned to be Kings, nowadays it was the last place in the entirety of the realm they were safe. Like rats they were pursued out of Westeros. It was so fast for her, when her husband declared Lord Stark and his heir traitors to the realm, one burned in fire and the other choked to death. Then everything went a mess with the war being declared and rebellion against Aerys being done. What happened on the Trident almost broke her, her eldest son and first born Rhaegar died when Steffon's son smashed his hammer on her dear son's chest. Then worse news came when the son of Steffon and Cassana died from poisoning of Dornish spears.
It all happened so fast just when she was mourning her Son's death, and then the news of King's Landing came soon after.
She cared not for her brother-husband Aerys and spared him no thought or tears over his death. Unlike the many bannermen around her and those loyal to her house, she cared not that Jaime Lannister broke his oaths. Only wishing that he'd done what he did earlier to save the realm from all this devastation and suffering brought by her husband's actions. Elia, poor sweet Elia, she shed all her tears for her. It was never a march for love that she and her son shared, it was mostly of duty and Rhaegar did so without a single complaint. It was fruitful, and the woman had born her two grandchildren, only one survived. Rhaenys, her sweet Dear Rhaenys was smuggled out of the castle by a nameless knight of the realm who had to sacrifice his life to prevent the vicious Lannister Knights from getting a hold of her. She spared a prayer for the boy martyr, the boy a careful plot devised since the real Aegon was a hidden stillbirth. While her good-daughter was raped and choked to death by Gregor Clegane. The very thoughts of the fate of Elia were enough to break her heart and fill it with a desire for vengeance at the same time. Pure raw and unadulterated rage flowed in blood, the blood of the dragon, the fire had awakened deep inside her.
She cried, roared out her anger, then beseeched the gods to give her the strength, the tools and the wits to see all those who played a part in their deaths fall.
Though she got the last laugh, Kings Landing was emptied of most of its coffers by the time she left Kings Landing, she wasn't a fool, all the gold they could get to their cause she would've taken. She would've come back to the red keep with all the treasury intact, however now with all what has happened, what she did now paid off. The vessel arrived early enough, she went there personally to greet her granddaughters, the girl cried in her arms and spoke about a monster that her mother fought against to protect her. She asked so desperately for her mother to see if she won, that she simply had to hold back the tears. And brace through it like the Queen she is. She comforted the girl as best as she could.
Yet her heart sunk when the sailors knelt and pleaded for their apologies.
The gods spared us no kindness.
She feared for them, for her children and her grandchild, the ones who walked around Dragonstone, who she knew needed to crown soon. And the one she carried also inside her. It was a blessing Viserys was by her side, the realms would bleed and die before they crown a Queen. She though prayed, seeking still the god's aid. For her children's sake. For a sign of what should she do, that there was hope to her family yet, that she won't get to see the end. Yet, never did she thought they'd answer her in the way they did.
Dark wings always held dark words in them. Yet as she read the letter; many were expecting to hear the news.
Ser Willem Darry, Lord Monford Velaryon and Lord Celtigar.
Rhaella was pregnant with Daenerys, so heavily pregnant that she couldn't sit in the raised seat. Th swell of her pregnant belly prohibited her from moving lithely and forced her to one of the other seats. The Velaryons and Celtigars were still loyal tot he causes of House Targaryen, Aenar Targaryen's Marriage to the Velaryon House sealed such ever since.
Queen Dowager Rhaella Targaryen
I've just emerged from the Tower of Joy where your Son was last known to keep my sister Lyanna. I managed to hear her version of the story, and all I can give are my apologies and condolences for the loss of your son. My sister fell in love with the prince and escaped with him after being met with him in Harrenhall; where both married in the eyes of both faiths, mine and yours. Then took her to the tower of Joy, a construction in the southern reaches in dorne, in the prince's pass at the red mountains. Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold have now entitled themselves in protecting my nephew, the three having been witnesses to the marriage and subsequent birth of my nephew. My sister, however, died after giving birth to my nephew. Understanding these circumstances alongside Robert's own demise, the realm needs not motives to divide itself but to find a common ground. Thus I agree my Nephew's fate is tied to that of the Iron Throne; regardless of his Stark Blood of Winter or Dragon Blood of Fire. Thereofre, I politely extend an invitation to you and the entirety of your court back to Kings Landing's Red Keep so that you can verify with your own eyes the legitimacy of my words and that of my nephew's three Kingsguard knights.
I sincerely hope for my young nephew to have support from both sides of his family
Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Lord Regent of Gaemon I Targaryen.
Her knees almost went weak at the letter, she had a grandson. After the gods beseeched her blood to not have a heir or even a sign of legitimacy in the eyes of the world. She had a grandson who was not a stillbirth. She wasn't stupid, she knew of her son's desire to birth an heir. And how broken he felt when he received the news of Elia's stillbirth and her incapacity to birth anymore, her rotten nature maesters said. Yet many questions remained and few were the answers she could have. She grunted in pain and clutched her stomach, any further questions were stopped.
Rhaella was helped to her chambers by Ser Willem, even Maester Marwyn helped. Any other Maester was immediately discarded and sent away by Lord Monford Velaryon. They trusted Maester Marwyn more than any other already.
Her only living son Viserys upon seeing her distress ran to her and she offered him the brightest smile she could, which seemed to confort him somewhat. Though, she believed that seeing the situation they were in, he knew they were in danger and having the Sword of the Morning by their side had relieved that somewhat.
"My son." She embraced him and chided softly.
"Mama, you are well?"
"I'm well, but you should be abed." She lectured yet his glance of worry never left her. "Though I'm mostly pleased to be able to bid you goodnight before you sleep."
"Night Night, my sweet prince." She kissed his forehead before long and went back to the bed.
She glanced to a a large royal blue egg with tiny scales and with black-colored ripples, the egg was found by her in Dragonstone when she heard the news of her first born's death. Since then she has sought out to embrace the egg to aid her sleep in the night. It's warmth brought her comfort. Tomorrow she'll have to find dragon eggs in the depths of Dragonstone. At least one for her dear Daenerys to place under her cradle bed. Perhaps it was time to revive the ancient Targaryen Tradition. Her son did it with her grandson Gaemon, why not do so her with her own.