Chapter 3 – I Promise Lyanna, I Promise

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Ned POV

Having lifted the siege of Storm's End I received information from Ashara Dayne, the sister of Ser Arthur Dayne that Lyanna was in Dorne being held in the tower of joy. We rode towards the tower of Joy me and my companions we were seven. Proud Martyn Cassel, Jory's father; faithful Theo Wull; Ethan Glover, who had been Brandon's squire; Ser Mark Ryswell, soft of speech and gentle of heart; the crannogman, Howland Reed; Lord Dustin on his great red stallion.

We were seven, facing three. Yet these were no ordinary three. They waited before the round tower, the red mountains of Dorne at their backs, their white cloaks blowing in the wind. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had a sad smile on his lips. The hilt of the greatsword Dawn poked up over his right shoulder. Ser Oswell Whent was on one knee, sharpening his blade with a whetstone. Across his white-enamelled helm, the black bat of his House spread its wings. Between them stood fierce old Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"I looked for you on the Trident," I said to them.

"We were not there," Ser Gerold answered.

"Woe to the Usurper if we had been," said Ser Oswell.

"When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were."

"Far away," Ser Gerold said, "or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells."

"I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege," I told them "and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them."

"Our knees do not bend easily," said Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him."

"Ser Willem is a good man and true," said Ser Oswell.

"But not of the Kingsguard," Ser Gerold pointed out. "The Kingsguard does not flee."

"Then or now," said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.

"We swore a vow," explained old Ser Gerold.

My friends stood beside me. We were seven against three.

"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

"No," Ned said with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends."

I heard a woman screaming in pain. I knew her voice. It was Lyanna. "Lyanna" I shouted "Lyanna".

She was screaming from the pain "Eddard" she called.

I needed to save my sister, I had to save her. I could see that the Kingsguard were willing to do their duty. I did not want to kill them, but if they died how many of my men would they take with them. How would I be able to look their loved ones in the eye? And if I die that would leave my brother as the lord of Winterfell, Benjen didn't deserve the responsibility and the suffering that came with it. I wanted to see my son grow strong; to see him ride, to see him wield a sword and to see the girls chase after him. I had to negotiate with the Kingsguard for they are honourable, reasonable men.

They drew their swords, my men drew their swords, I thought about my family for one last time. And I made the decision that would define my life. "sheathe your swords." The Kingsguard looked surprised but they did not sheathe their swords. My companions sheathed their swords. "I have come here on peaceful terms, I swear on the honour of my sister that I do not want blood shed here today".

"Lord Eddard I believe Ser Arthur can take you to your sister" Ser Gerold said as he looked at me with anger but he still did not sheathe his sword. He did not trust me.

The sword of the morning looked at me with pity as he sheathed his sword and took me to the steps of the tower, we climbed and climbed the steps and despite sheathing his sword I could tell he did not trust me and was very wary.

Ser Arthur Dayne opened the door as he took me to my sister. The room she was in smelled of blood and roses, I worried for her, I worried for my sister. She lay in a bed of blood full of blue petals; and she wore a crown of blue roses, that was identical to crown of roses Rhaegar crowned her with at the tourney of Harrnehall. Wylla was attempting to reduce the blood flow but the blanket was covered in blood, she was dying. My sister was dying. For she has given birth.

"Ned" she said weakly, I could tell it took a lot of willpower for her to just to say my name, as she was battling through the pain.

I knelt next to her; her forehead was burning up as her life slipped away from her. "promise me" she said; her strength was fading away. This was not my sister; this could not be my sister for she would live on and endure. But it was not so, for she was dying.

"Ned, I loved him. I loved Rhaegar. Tell my son the truth about his heritage one day. Promise me Ned".

"Promise me Ned" she repeated.

"Lyanna" I stammered.

"Promise me that you'll keep him safe, keep him safe Ned. Keep him safe" she made me promise again.

"Jon. His name is Jon Targaryen. Promise me Ned". She repeated. Those were her last words.

"Lyanna" I screamed. "Lyanna! Lyanna!" she could not die, she mustn't die!

"I promise Lyanna, I promise" I said while crying.

I cried and I cried, I held her in my arms, the petals slipped through her hands. Damn you Rhaegar, damn you Robert and damn you father. "Lyanna" I screamed again.

"My Lord Stark" I heard the sword of the morning. For behind me was the Kingsguard and my men and they all looked at me with pity. They called this place the tower of joy, but what joy did it bring. I looked at her son, he had her look. She may be gone from this world but she will always be in my heart and she will always remain in her son, the rightful king. Damn you Robert. For that promise would haunt me to the end of my days.