Chapter Text
Prologue:
The raven announcing Prince Rhaegar’s death had sent those residing in the Tower of Joy into flurry of activity. At nearly six moons gone Lyanna Stark moved slower but none of her three male companions ever voiced a complaint or tried to make her move faster. The heat in Dorne caused a layer of sweat to bead on her brow as the horse beneath her shifted. They were making their way to Wyl, from there the hope was to charter a ship to Essos, at least that was what Ser Arthur had told her after the decision had been made to leave the Tower.
A tear trickled down her cheek at the thought of leaving her homeland, she’d tried to make the argument for going north. Lyanna had told them that once she appeared healthy and alive but ruined the war would be over there would be nothing left to fight over. Her father would protect her and her child, she would promise to send her daughter south to wed Aegon when she came of age just as Rhaegar had wished when he’d made a child of fire and ice his payment for helping her break the betrothal.
Ser Arthur had looked at her sadly, “I’m sorry princess. Your father passed away shortly after you disappeared,” he paused letting what he had said hang in the air between them. Lyanna felt her heart stutter Ser Arthur didn’t say how her father died but Lyanna knew she just knew it had something to do with her. “Your brother is lord of Winterfell now.” Ser Arthur didn’t say any more but then he didn’t need to. Lyanna loved her brothers but she knew Brandon, he wouldn’t help her he’d be furious with her for failing to do her duty to her house for bringing shame on her house and he would likely do something that she wouldn’t live for him to regret later. No going to Essos with the men Rhaegar left to protect her and his unborn daughter was her best option and the best option for her baby.
The journey to Wyl took two days at the pace they were forced to keep for Lyanna’s sake. Once there it was a simple matter for Ser Arthur to secure passage for her, Oswell and himself aboard the Sea Wolf which disembarked the next morn. Ser Gerold would see them off then return to the Red Keep and King Aerys side.
~~
The journey to Myr would take almost 4 moons and none of the three companions were sure if they would stay there or leave. The Sea Wolf was full of Westerosi fleeing the unrest caused by the rebellion as well as merchants from the various free cities of Essos. Several of the business men sent and received ravens on the ship. Arthur, Oswell and Lyanna kept to themselves but always listened to what news they could to see which way the war at home was going.
They were almost to Myr when the news of the sack of King’s Landing reached them. The news of Jaime Lannister’s betrayal of his Kings Guard vows makes Ser Arthur’s face go still as stone he won’t look at Lyanna before he excuses himself to go up on deck. Ser Oswell’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, he opens his mouth as if to say something then shakes his head and takes up post outside her room.
It shouldn’t be surprising that she goes into labor that night. It’s only by the grace of the gods she survives. A Maester traveling to Myr is aboard the ship and when it becomes apparent she’s having issues Ser Arthur seeks him out. She delivers her son just as dawn breaks. She lets out a half laugh half sob when she’s told and the boy placed in her arms.
“A boy,” Ser Arthur says from the post he’s taken up at the door after fetching the Maester, “you’re sure.”
“I forged two silver chains at the citadel studying medicine. I can assure you it is definitely a boy,” the Maester states firmly. He’s an older man, his hair already silver and not betraying the color it had been in his youth, his mouth is firm and it doesn’t look as if he smiles much but as he’s saved her life and her son’s Lyanna will forgive him that. “She lost a bit of blood during the birth but it’s nothing to worry too much over. Ensure she gets a lot of red meat in her diet for the next few weeks and she’ll be good as new.” Both knights are nodding their heads to the Maester’s instructions. “I also recommend she stay off her feet for at least the next 3 days to heal a bit. Light activity for the next six weeks,” the Maester’s eyes narrowed as he looked between both knights now, “and absolutely no sexual intercourse for at least six months.”
Ser Oswell flushes red and opens his mouth. What he intends to say in response to the Maester’s final order Lyanna isn’t sure because Ser Arthur is there thanking the Maester and escorting him from the cabin. He’s assuring the master they will follow all of his instructions. Lyanna looks down at the babe in her arms and feels a rush of love go through her. She never realized she could love a person as much as she loves her son.
A small bitter part of her heart wishes Rhaegar was still alive so she could rub his prophecy in his face, as the thought enters her head a shudder runs through her body and she shivers as she wonders if had Rhaegar survived her son would have been taken from her and she would have been kept hostage till she quickened with child again until he had his Visenya, if he would have accepted his son or had him executed to prevent him from being a threat to his half-brother’s inheritance. That didn’t matter anymore, Rhaegar was dead and poor little Aegon was as well.
Lyanna is so lost in her son one hand stroking his dark curls that she doesn’t notice Ser Arthur return until he speaks, “What will his name be princess?”
“Daeron perhaps,” piped up Oswell, “or Jaehaerys.”
“Jonnel,” Lyanna said softly her eyes trained on her son, “Jonnel Aemon Targaryen.”
“A northern name,” Ser Arthur said his voice cool with bite. Lyanna raised her eyes to meet the Sword of the Morning’s eyes no fear and lifted her chin, “Princess...”
“Prince Rhaegar chose me for my northern blood. Never has Targaryen blood been mingled with Northern. My son may be a dragon but he is a wolf and he will have a Northern name,” her voice didn’t rise but it was firm. Her eyes went back to her son a feeling of dread starting to build in her heart. Rhaegar was dead, Aerys was dead, and Aegon was dead. Her teeth sank into her lower lip and began to worry it, by rights her infant son was now king. Rhaegar had taken her as a second wife to ensure his daughter would be born legitimate and now that meant their son was legitimate. Did she want her son to be used as a figurehead for any restoration efforts, her eyes rose again to look at the two knights in the room with her as they knelt before her bed and swore new King’s Guard vows to her infant son, and did she even have a choice. She was wholly dependent on these two men, she had no money, and they were heading to a strange land where she had no friends. If they were determined to make a king of her son she wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Stark grey eyes narrowed then lowered to the babe asleep in her arms and she made a silent vow to herself. These knights could make a king of her son, make a warrior of him, a figure head if they wished, but she would ensure he would be a just king. Her son would not promise a woman help only to attach conditions on it, he would not be so enamored by a prophecy that he couldn’t see anything else, her lips curled into a sneer, nor would her son be one who would start a war because he’d been spurned by a woman. Lyanna had no faith that her former betrothed Robert Baratheon would be much better of a king then Aerys, a man who waged war, because he’d been denied a woman, and sowed chaos amongst the smallfolk should not be crowned. No she would teach her son to be better than that, to be as honorable as her beloved father, as sweet as her baby brother Benjen, he would be raised in the faith of the seven the knights would see to that but she would teach him the old ways and the old gods. A king of the north and the south she vowed it by the old gods and the new.
~~
Lord Eddard Stark was exhausted and heart sick. He hadn’t wanted to return to the Red Keep, the blood, the broken bodies of the babies laid before his king, no he wouldn’t think of that. After the lead he’d had of his sister being in Dorne hadn’t panned out he’d returned to the capital hoping to find more leads on Lyanna’s whereabouts. Shortly after entering the capital he’d been summoned to the Red Keep. He sent a side glance at the King’s Guard escorting him.
Ser Boros Blount had been short, curt and unfriendly. The man had barely let him dismount before insisting Ned accompany him to the Red Keep. The silence didn’t bother him and he used the journey to survey the capital and the Red Keep. Repairs were underway but there was still clear evidence of the horror that had taken place here less than 3 moons ago. Entering the throne room Ned took a knee at the base of the thrones steps and waited to see what was so urgent his friend and king had summoned him so unceremoniously for.
“Did you know?”
The question is barely more than a whisper but it carries through the hall. A cold shiver of unease runs down Ned’s back as he raises his head to look his best friend in the eye, “Your Grace?”
“Did you know,” Robert roared shooting to his feet off the iron throne his blue eyes electric with rage.
“Your grace has me at a disadvantage,” Ned stated slowly remaining on his knee, “I’ve only just returned from Dorne. The Tower was empty no sign of use. I returned to search the Keep’s library hoping to find another place Rhaegar may have been holding Lyanna.”
“Holding Lyanna,” Robert snorts as he cuts Ned off mid-sentence. “Your whore of a sister went with him willingly.”
Ned felt as if every drop of blood drained from his face, “Your grace,” the words slipped out faint.
“My master of whispers reports the Sword of the Morning and Ser Oswell Whent have been spotted in Myr with Lyanna and babe they are proclaiming Jon Targaryen First of his Name king of the seven kingdoms,” Robert spits out sitting back down his rage, pushed back for the time as he sees the true shock and surprise in Eddard Stark’s grey eyes. They’d grown up together knew each other better than their true born brothers knew them. Ned wouldn’t be able to fake that shock for him and Robert not be able to tell.
Ned exhaled slowly, “spies, whispers your grace that’s not proof,” his shoulders relaxed even as his mind flat out denied the information he was being told. “Lyanna wouldn’t have gone willingly with him and even if she did she wouldn’t have stayed after what happed to father and Brandon.”
Pity entered Robert’s blue eyes, “Grandmaester Pycelle presented me with notice from the Citadel. Rhaegar petitioned and received permission to take a second wife. He also provided me with proof of their marriage.” Robert waved his hand so that the aged Grandmaester could present Ned with the documentation.
Even with the proof in front of him Ned still shook his head, he couldn’t believe it the denial was in his head. His hands started to shake. He’d known his little sister hadn’t wanted to marry Robert, she’d complained about it often enough before the Tourney at Harrenhall, but this. Choosing to be Rhaegar’s concubine over an honored wife little better than a whore in the eyes of the people, little better than a whore in the eyes of the North. His stomach knotted. The old gods didn’t recognize second wives, Lyanna’s faith shouldn’t have allowed her to take the position yet he had the proof in his hands. It didn’t matter if she went willingly or no his father and Brandon would have still gone to the capital to have her returned because Rhaegar couldn’t offer her any honorable arrangement that the North would recognize. Rickard Stark would never give his blessing for his beloved daughter to be a second wife, a position his faith would never allow him to recognize.
He remembered his father had stopped briefly in the Vale before going to the capital to ask him if he’d known anything about his sister’s plans. Rickard Stark hadn’t been sure if Lyanna had run away or been kidnapped he’d gone south to get to the bottom of it as well as to insist that his daughter be returned. The fact that Lyanna had willingly snubbed her duty to her house, her duty to her family that just made his father and brother’s deaths so much worse. Seeds of rage were planted in his belly.
“Lord Stark,” Robert said drawing himself up, “I’m ordering your return to Winterfell. As a testament to our years of friendship and the belief that you did not know of Lyanna’s breach of faith I will not strip you of the title of Warden of the North as some of my advisors wish for me to do. Remain in Winterfell and do not interfere, do not send your sister aid, do not shelter your sister or her bastard son. If you should do so I will view them as acts of treason.”
Ned rose up his grey eyes starting to kindle, “Have no fear your Grace as Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North I disavow Lyanna.” His voice starts out soft but gains fervency and power, “She’ll know no friends in the North, no one will shield her, give her aid or succor. No bannerman of mine will acknowledge her call, we don’t claim her, and we don’t recognize her.” His grey eyes burn, “Her actions led to the death of our lord and heir so the North no longer knows its daughter Lyanna. I vow it by the old gods and the new. She wished to be a Targaryen she can forever more be known as Lyanna Targaryen or Lyanna Snow but she is no longer a Stark.”
~~
The rage lasted him till he got to Riverrun there the flames were banked as his wife introduced him to his son. For just a second he could almost pretend that his sister and her son didn’t exist that the rest of the world didn’t exist. Ned knows his wife has questions for him but he doesn’t have time to answer them now. They rest there just long enough to rest the horses and resupply before continuing the journey north, continuing the journey home.
There’s apprehension in his wife’s blue eyes as she survey’s her new domain from the litter she’s riding in with their son. Son, Ned shakes his head a small smile tugging at his lips as he thinks of the babe with a head of red curls, Catelyn had named the boy Rob in his absence for his friend. The journey to Winterfell was uneventful. He’d sent ravens to all of his bannermen to advise them of Lyanna’s new status in the North and the role she’d played in the death of their lord. Howland Reed who’d gone with him to Dorne and been waiting for him to return from the Red Keep had been shocked then tried to deny the information he’d given them. He’d advised his friend and bannerman that he’d seen the proof but if he doubted his word Howland was more than welcome to petition the King to see the proof for himself. Howland had become resigned after that, the lithe Cranogman had still insisted that it didn’t sound like Lyanna but accepted the reality for what it was.
The party entered the courtyard of Winterfell and a smile broke out on his face, his shoulders slumped and he felt like he could breathe for the first time in month’s years even. The sight of his brother Benjen waiting to meet him filled him with joy. He dismounted and went to greet him with a hug.
Benjen stepped back and then bowed, “Winterfell is yours my lord.”
Ned laughed slightly as Catelyn left the litter and came to join him, “Allow me to present your good sister Catelyn and your nephew Rob.”
Benjen smiled and moved to buss Cat’s cheeks, “Sister, welcome to Winterfell.” Ned felt worry prick at his heart as he noticed that the smile didn’t reach Ben’s eyes.
“Let me show you to your chambers my lady,” Ned said taking his wife by the arm. “Ben I’ll see you in my solar in a half hour.”
“Yes,” his brother said with a quick nod and a slight bow. Ned led Catelyn into the keep and wondered what other news the old gods had for him.
~~
They’d been in the solar for over an hour going over the books and the happenings of the North that had occurred while Ned had been in the South. Both men had an ale in their hand sipping and reminiscing. Silence fell over them and Ned sat and waited.
Finally Ben looked up at him, “Is it true?” Ned arched an eyebrow questioningly. “The news you sent North about Lyanna, that she choose Rhaegar, that she married,” Ben’s voice trailed off as an expression of disgust colored his face.
“Aye it’s true,” Ned said anger that never truly went away in his voice. “I saw the bastard’s petition for the exemption to the faith myself as well as the proof of their marriage.” He looked down into his mug of ale for a long moment, “There’s whispers from the East that she bore him a son one she and the King’s Guard she fled with have proclaimed king.”
He waited to see if Ben would tell him what else was troubling his mind but nothing else was shared that night nor any other for almost 4 moons. Then his younger brother was in his solar drunk and told him again that he couldn’t believe Lyanna married Rhaegar. “She just wanted out of the betrothal with Robert,” he slurred.
“What,” Ned said his heart pounding as he looked at his baby brother.
“She was so disgusted by him at the Tourney,” Ben said earnestly, “The prince was going to help her.”
“How do you know this,” Ned asked slowly getting to his feet. “Ben how do you know any of this?”
“Because I helped her,” he said, then the younger boy broke down. “Because I helped her.”
The next moon Ned sent his brother to the Wall to take the black. It was the lightest punishment he could think of and the story given out was that his brother had joined willingly, that Ben had begged to join. If Robert ever found out that Ben helped Lyanna run away, a small bitter part of him, the part that ached for his father and lost brother, that felt overwhelmed in the Lordship he’d never been prepared for wanted desperately to punish him harsher, to send him to King’s Landing for Robert to deal with.
The Stark name had enough scandal attached to it, bawdy tales were already being sung about Lyanna and how she’d seduced Rhaegar away from Elia, tales that named Lyanna as a northern witch, a seductress and a woman with no honor. Those tales asked what future daughters of house Stark might be like if this was the example of how Stark women behaved in the south. Any daughter he and Catelyn had would be tarred by Lyanna’s reputation, their prospects dim and reputations already poised to be horrid and they hadn’t even been born yet. He made a vow to himself not to repeat the mistakes of his father with any daughter he had. His daughters would be raised to know their duty and to honor it.