Alys

Alys is still awake when the sun rises. She watches her sister carefully, head turning but eyes closed in a restless sort of sleep. Sweat gathered at her brow and an occasional look of pain or confusion coming across her face.

Alys rose from her spot at the window and brought the wet cloth to Lyanna's head again, glancing once more at the end of the bed.

At the red of the blood that still slowly soaks the covers.

She hasn't stopped bleeding. It slowed after Alys stitched what was torn well enough, and she did what she could to stop it. But it didn't seem enough, because blood still came.

And then the fever came.

Lyanna's skin hot to the touch and soon her moments of lucidity falling away for dreamlike moments between sleep.

Alys was glad they'd managed to get her son fed in a period of Lyanna's lucidness. She doesn't want to think about what would happen if they couldn't feed him.

She wants to think less of what might happen if Lyanna does not get better.

Instead of thinking, she focuses upon tending Lyanna. She's done this, tended a sick sibling. Tended her sick mother, too, when the illness had struck her and fever raged through Lyarra Stark's body. Alys had sat for hours then too, at her mother's side with snow-cooled rags that she wiped at her brow. She'd refused to leave her mother's side. Not until she was better, or gone.

Once again, Alys refuses to leave.

She prays. So much. To the old gods that are far out of her reach, and even to the seven though she knows little of them and has never held faith in them. She prays that Oberyn returns with a Maester, a wet-nurse. Someone who can help Lyanna, and someone who can tend her son.

Those are the only moments she leaves Lyanna's side, a few sparing minutes to check on Lya's son where he sleeps in a basket on the table nearby. She's there, looking down at the boy when Lyanna calls for her again.

"Alys?" Lya's voice weak and shaking. "Alys… where… my son?" her eyes are open and Alys is quick to start comfort.

"He's fine," she says, "sleeping. Perfectly. He's so sweet."

"I'm scared Alys," Lya sniffs, tears forming in her eyes, "I'm scared for him. I'm not— I'm not okay. He's going to be alone. In danger."

"No,"Alys brushes away a tear when it falls down Lyanna's cheek. "He'll have you, you'll be okay."

But Lyanna just shakes her head, "you have to be there for him. Protect him. Please, Alys. Keep him safe."

"Lya," she starts, her own head shaking but Lya grabs her hand holding it tight in her moment of lucidness.

"Promise me. Alys. That you'll protect him, that you'll be with him."

Alys meets Lyanna's gaze, her heart hurting as she nods. "Okay, okay. I promise, Lya. I'll— I'll be there for him. I'll protect him, and love him, and keep him safe."

"Good." Lya says, falling back into her pillows. A wince crosses her face before she coughs out a sob. "Good." She nods her eyes squeezing shut as she falls away from awareness once more.

She looks over Lyanna. And she prays for her sister to stop bleeding. For her fever to break.

For someone to come and help them all.

She hears the sound of riders, but Lyanna is whining and so she doesn't leave to look out the window. She hopes it's Oberyn, and wipes more at her sisters brow before taking her hand and smiling. "It's okay, Lya, it's okay." She soothes.

Then, like a bell in the air, the clang of metal reaches Alys's ears and her head turns to the window.

"Alys?" Lya cries, "Alys… my son… where…" Alys squeezes her sisters hand.

"It's okay, you're both okay" she says again before moving towards the window and watching as the great-sword Dawn rises and meets in a loud clash with the sword of her brother.

Ned

Now, it begins.

Ned's sword swings up hared to meet Arthur Dayne in defense, the ringing of his steel meeting the ethereal blade of house Dayne echoing through the mountains around the tower.

Finding it hadn't been as hard as expected. Before he'd departed from Kings Landing he'd gone through all the reports and whispers of where Rhaegar might have brought his sister, and in the end he'd found talk of a tower gifted to the prince upon his marriage to Elia Martell.

Still, a part of him had worried that he'd gotten it wrong as they rode from Storm's End to the Prince's Pass. That he'd come here and all that it would be is an empty tower.

But as he and his party rode up with the tower in sight he saw three men in kingsguard armor by the tower steps in the mountainside, he knew he'd gotten it right.

Ned's breath had left him with relief at the knowledge that his sister, perhaps both even, was near.

There had seemed no way forward but this, steel meeting steel and blood spilling onto the red sand and mountainside. Ned would see his sister, and the Kingsguard had said they'd let no man pass. Rhaegar had given them orders, protect the tower.

So it began.

Ned dodged back once more, narrowly avoiding the carving path of Dawn as it swung down his way. He heard a cry to the side as a man fell, but he couldn't tell who. Nor of which side, for if he diverted his attention even a second it was likely he'd dead the next.

Arthur Dayne is likely the greatest swordsman of the age. That was known across the seven kingdoms. This man had slain the Smiling Knight in single combat. He was the deadliest with a sword of the Kings Guard, and no man had ever matched him in battle. He fights with a sword as sharp and strong as Valyrian steel, and likely drenched in magic.

Though Ned was skilled with his own sword, and had fought in battles to come out the other side unscathed, he was younger, and could barely hold his own against this man made for legend.

He was pushed back, his own sword barely meeting each blow as Arthur rained down on him with little relenting.

Ned was relieved from the assault, for a moment, when Ethan Glover's sword parries Dawn and the two move forward in advance for once against Arthur.

To the side of them Ned can just see Martyn Cassell and Theo Wull downing and ending the Kingsguard Oswell Whent before spinning to meet the Lord Commander's sword. Wull fell while Cassell staggered away from Hightower, his sword rising quick to meet the White Bull's sword before Mark Ryswell joined in against the man.

Ned's attention fell back to Arthur as the man cut down Ethan, sending Brandon's former squire to the ground with blood flying across them all.

Swords rise and meet with a song of battle as Ned resumes his singular combat with the Sword of the Morning. He sidestepped and dodged and met blade to blade at every second but Ned was feeling with every swing of Dawn against his sword that he wouldn't succeed. He wasn't matched to this man, and it would be his end.

Ryswell slashed towards Dayne's back, making the man swing around towards him before catching Ned's bannerman across his chest and bleeding red across the northern leathers as he fell. Cassell came forth, one arm limp from his fight with Hightower and stabbed forward with his sword to be met with Dawn through his front.

Ned steadied himself as Dayne turned back in his direction. Some part of his mind noted a figure making it's way down the mountain steps from the tower. But his mind couldn't stray far from the man before him as Arthur pushed forward again.

Swinging, and hitting, and Ned losing strength with every nearly missed parry.

His strength staggered and Dawn ripped across Ned's arm. Sending him staggering while Arthur waited a second in Ned's recovery as he raised his sword again to meet the man.

He will die. Ned thinks of himself, these are his last moments. He wouldn't see Lyanna again, or Alys. He wouldn't help Robert to the throne, or sit with Jon Arryn.

He wouldn't see Catelyn. Wouldn't relish her kiss or share the warmth of her bed.

He would never meet his child.

This would be his end.

A prayer flew through his mind as Dawn sliced through the sky down towards him.

And stopped.

Shaking, and struggling the Sword of the Morning stood still in his spot. Ned stared at him, stunned at it all as his slow accepting of death had been cut away in a second. He looked as though his breath was caught in him, and when Ned looked at his eyes gone was the purple and instead they were clouded.

Ned moved with only the thought of his own demise hanging with Dawn in the air a second from resuming it's crash towards his body. Bringing his sword forward his delved in deep into the space below his armor and up into his torso. With it the cloudiness left Dayne's eyes and Dawn fell clattering to the ground as Ned drew the sword back out in a shower of red.

Arthur fell to his knees, blood choking up into his mouth as he fell forward. Ned whispered a prayer once more, but for Arthur now instead of himself as he brought his sword down to finish the man's pain.

When he looked up he saw Howland Reed leant against the stone, sweaty and eyes half closed as he stared at Arthur Dayne's corpse.

Now it ends.

The first thing he noticed climbing up the tower, was the smell of blood.

He thought, for a moment, it was simply him. The blood of the battle.

But it wasn't the smell of fresh blood that was within the tower as he made his way up. It was old blood and new. And when he entered the room Howland told him of he found the source.

Lyanna was there, lying in a bed of blood.

Her eyes went to him and through her pained and tearful gaze she smiled weakly, "Ned?" she cried, her voice cracking with it.

"Lyanna…" He says, his own voice hushed as he rushes forward to her side.

"Is that you?" she asks as he settles beside her. She was feverish, and seemed barely lucid as she brings a weak hand up to him that he takes with his own.

"Ned?" His gaze turns to see Alys in the doorway. She has blood on her dress as well, and sweat on her own brow. But as she moved forward he knew it wasn't because of a similar ailment to Lyanna. She sets a bucket down, water sloshing in it as she turns her gaze to Lyanna, to the blood. "She's…" her voice cracks before she squeezes her eyes shut and her head shakes, "she's not…"

"Is that really you, Ned?" Lyanna's voice draws him back to her as he brings a hand gently over her hair. "You're not a dream?" she asks her voice soft and watery. He hears Alys move to the end of the bed, and from the corner of his eye he can see her wrapping her arms tight around herself.

"No," he says, a gentle smile coming to his face. "I'm not a dream." He says it soothing, squeezing her hand carefully and brushing down her hair again. "I'm here. Right here."

Lya smiles, a weak laughter to her voice as she says "I've missed you, big brother."

"I've missed you too." Ned feels tears creep from his eyes and he looks again to Alys, "what's wrong with her?" he asks, his sister looking to another part of the room where his gaze almost follows before Lya's voice pulls him back.

"Ned," her voice mixing with tears. "I want to be brave."

He squeezes her hand again, "you are brave." He tells her. Because she is, she always has been. Brave and willful Lyanna, who fights squires off with wooden swords and runs away and always says what she thinks.

"I'm not." Her voice breaks, her head shaking against his hand. He looks down to the blood on her covers. "I don't want to die." She says and his heart tears.

He doesn't want her to die. He doesn't want another member of his family to die. He lost mother, all those years ago. Then father and Brandon. He doesn't want to lose Lyanna too. So he tells her, "you're not going to die." Hoping if he says it it will be true, though he knows just like he'd known when Arthur's sword was coming down at him, that this was death.

And there was no stopping this like Howland stopped Arthurs sword.

He looks again to Alys, "is there nothing to be done? No maester?"

"Oberyn left for help the other day," Alys says, wiping away tears from under her eyes. "He should return soon… but…" a sob catches in her throat as she looks at their sister. "I don't… I don't think it'll be soon enough."

Ned wanted to shake his head at that, to say that there had to be something to do. But Lyanna was pulling at his hand, bring him back to her as she said, "listen to me Ned." Her eyes meet his and bore into him that this is the most important thing to her while she lingers in pain and at the call of death. "You and Alys… you are all he'll have."

Ned blinks, and his gaze falls to the spot Alys had looked to. A table, and upon it a small basket. He can see, just barely, the head of babe swaddled in blankets within. "Lya…" he starts but she squeezes his hand tighter.

"Protect him." She begs, "if Robert finds out, he'll kill him. You know he will." Her eyes are bright, shining grey through the fever as she implores to him to protect her son. Her son, she has a son. "You can never tell him. You have to protect him." He can hear Alys stifling a cry as Lyanna speaks. "Promise me, Ned." Lyanna cries, sniffling and tears falling from her as she speaks. "Promise me."

Her breath is quicker. "Alys?" she calls, "my son… Alys." Ned looks following as Alys moves to take the child from where he lies, and brings him over. Kneeling beside them both as Lyanna grasps Ned's hand all the tighter as he eyes turn from him to her son. "Promise me, Ned."

He looks at him too, the babe in Alys's arms that turns his head at the disruption. Blinking slowly, until grey eyes so like their sisters open and Ned feels grief already soaring.

"Promise me." She calls, her voice weaker and her hand loosening. "Ned." She breathes the word. "Promise me…." Her breath shortens, and Ned looks with tears falling from him at the boy.

"I promise, Lyanna." He breathes the words like a vow taken, the sound mixing with Lyanna's staggering breaths into silence. "I promise."

Thank you for reading!

Some deaths are sadly necessary, though it did hurt me greatly to kill Arthur Dayne.

Thank you as always for favorites and your amazing reviews!