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Promise Me, Ned.
These words had left her lips as she had slowly slipped away to the embrace of darkness. Now, she was back and alive. Her body still felt sore and she was easily exhausted when she moved more than a handful of steps. She even had to travel on a carriage home to Winterfell.
Or should she call it her lost home? For Winterfell no longer felt like home. It was inhabited by ghosts, Ned, his wailing babe and his wife, a woman that should have wed their brother Brandon. Her brother who had perished at the hands of Aerys. And her father…
Lyanna should feel sadness, but she felt too exhausted and empty to care about anything beyond feeding her son.
Her heart was numb, a hollow place where once joy had resided. She had wept only for Rhaegar so far, the fool who had lied to her. She ought to hate him, but she couldn’t. Not when she looked at their beautiful son. Hating Rhaegar would mean to admit defeat and agree with her father. The father who had wanted to sell her off like a pig.
Yet at times she dreamed of them. They were accusing her, but she always woke to her son’s cries and soon found herself distracted by feeding him.
It was true, that he had a nursemaid, but along the journey she had taken care of him herself. That too would have to end now that she was going to live in Winterfell.
Ned’s wife could not know the truth about her husband’s bastard.
Ned had insisted upon it and Lyanna had been forced to comply.
…
It was snowing when they arrived at Winterfell. The reception was not a happy one, for Ned’s wife stared at Jon, that is how Ned had wanted to call him, as if he was some hideous monster that had come to torment her.
Pale-faced she had presented her son to him and had soon fled back to her chambers. For Lyanna she had not spared more than a handful of polite words.
Not that Lyanna cared. She didn’t care about anything. Her heart was empty. A gaping black hole.
The following days, she spent cooped up in Winterfell, watching the flames or sneaking into her child’s chamber. The nursemaid knew that she was the mother. Her name was Wylla and she had been given to her by Lady Ashara Dayne.
And Lyanna could have been satisfied with that. To spend her days with her son, whenever she could sneak away, but as the weeks passed, she began to feel like an imprisoned wolf.
Ned and her barely spoke. She was not sure if it was resentment that caused it, but she realized that she and her brother had nothing in common. They were strangers now.
She knew that Ned was worried because she showed too much affection to his supposed son. His wife was watching her too, but beyond that they barely spoke. She seemed lost in her own world, just as distant from her brother as Lyanna. Theirs was an uncomfortable marriage and she had the feeling Ned was blaming her for that too.
If I could leave I would, she thought, but Ned would never allow it. I am his prisoner.
…
It was a moon turn after her return, that Benjen came to visit her. He was now a man of the Night’s Watch, but to Lyanna he was still a boy.
“You don’t look well,” she said as she embraced him tightly. “You are so thin? Do they not feed you properly at the Wall?”
“The Wall is not a pleasant place,” Benjen said and kissed her cheek. “But the only place for me.”
“That is utter nonsense,” Lyanna insisted and did not dare to let go of him, least he ran away. “You have not given the vow yet, have you?”
“No,” Benjen replied and eyed the babe in the crib. He was awake and staring at him with wide eyes. “But Ned would not want me here. Not after what I did.”
“You helped me,” Lyanna said and pulled on his arm, forcing him to look at her. ”There was no wrong in that.”
“I killed Brandon and father,” Benjen stuttered. “I deserve no less.”
“Brandon got himself killed,” Lyanna replied. She knew it was wrong to voice it that way, but she blamed him too. Brandon, her brother, who never seen her as nothing more than his silly little sister. The same she felt for her father, a feeling between sadness and resentment, for treating her like his property. “By riding to King’s Landing. Father died because he believed he could reason with a madman. Neither I nor you wanted this. No one wanted a war. I just wanted to be free and Rhaegar was the only one who could give me that. You were there when father said he would drag me before the altar if he must. And all because Rhaegar gave me a bloody crown of flowers.”
Lyanna was shivering now Benjen held her tightly.
“I am sorry, dear sister,” he said and kissed her cheek. “I did not want to upset you. But you don’t mean it…What you said about father and Brandon?”
“No,” Lyanna said and wept. “I don’t hate it…not really, but I cannot stay here, Ben. I am going insane.”
Benjen brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her cheek. “I will not go, Lya. Will that help you to keep you sane?”
Lyanna nodded her head and smiled for the first times since waking from her feverish slumber at Starfall.
Yet as so often in life, her happiness did not last long.
…
If Ned had been upset with Benjen’s decision to remain at Winterfell, it had never voiced it openly. His wife was a bit hesitant at first, but she accepted Benjen readily enough, who became Ned’s new steward.
There were even talks of marriage, but Benjen rebuffed the offers, claiming he was too young to settle down.
Lyanna was glad for it, because it meant that Benjen remained with her, but while her life at Winterfell had improved with her brother’s presence, the same could not be said about Ned’s wife.
Lady Catelyn did not like her or at least that was what Lyanna believed. She was always watching her, always watching her. Especially, when she spent her evenings doting upon Jon instead of her son.
And it was not like Lyanna disliked Robb. No, she just couldn’t stand his name. Robert. The man who had been born to torment her.
She was just glad that she had not been forced to face him, for she didn’t know what she would have said to him.
One night, Lady Catelyn spoke out the unspoken truth. “The boy is not Ned’s son, is he?”
Lyanna saw no reason to lie. She had never wanted to lie. That had been Ned’s idea.
“
“No, the boy is Prince Rhaegar’s son. My my husband, whom I married willingly.”
Lady Catelyn had been star-struck by her answer. She had looked at Lyanna as if she was mad. Then, she had bolted away, leaving Lyanna in peace.
Lyanna could not have known what would happen next. For Lady Catelyn had spoken to her brother, who looked angry and pale when Lyanna sought him out on the next morning.
“Lyanna,” he said. “Why did you tell her?”
Lyanna’s answer was simple and straight to the point. ”Because we cannot live a lie.”
A moon passed in silence and then another. Lady Catelyn treated her like a ghost and her son she could not even bare to look at. As if his very presence could harm them.
Lyanna was so disturbed by it that she even tried to speak to the Lady.
One evening, she sought her out in company of her son. Robb was already walking or better said stumbling.
By then, Lyanna had already warmed up to the boy.
He laughed and waved at her when she entered.
“Robb,” Lady Catelyn called out to him as she lowered her needlework. “Come here.”
“Let him be, my lady,” Lyanna told her and sat down across her, lowering Jon to the ground. He did not wait to crawl forth to eye Lady Catelyn’s silken dress. He liked everything shiny. ”He is just playing.”
Lady Catelyn did not answer, her narrow gaze fixed on the boy. On Jon.
She never called him by his name. Only the boy.
“Do you have to carry the boy around like this? As if you are his mother…”
“I am his mother,” Lyanna replied and met her gaze. “And his name is Jon. Ned insisted on the name, but I could scarcely call him by a Targaryen name.”
Lady Catelyn eyed her with wide eyes. “Are you not at least ashamed of yourself?”
Lyanna felt this old feeling of defiance rising up inside her. “Ashamed of what? For loving a good man? For loving my son? What are you trying to say, my lady? That I am whore? Well, say so then, and do not hide behind pretty words.”
Lady Catelyn eyed Jon once more and rose to her feet. She picked up Robb along the way and. ”You are so brash…my lady…and I do not like to get into arguments. Rest well.”
Lyanna made not another attempt to speak to Lady Catelyn.
She had made her peace with that and moved on. The next six moons pass in peace and Lyanna was glad to show Jon his first snow. Benjen and her even build a snow castle and spent the whole day outside.
I was on that perfect winter day that she heard of the the king’s intention of riding north. Ned told her and his wife was deadly silent.
Lyanna did not eat for weeks. She grew thin and sickly. She cought a fever and spent two weeks in bed before the king arrived.
Lyanna refused to call him that. Robert was no king. He was a kinslayer and a murderer.
She spoke no word as the Lady Catelyn had a dress fitted for her. It was grey and pale and it suited her well.
When Robert comes to see her, she had placed a winter rose into her hair. His shocked face was worth all the effort.
“I like them,” she told him then, no longer afraid, no longer caring. In one way, Benjen had been right. She should not have run away. She should have told Robert straight to his face what she thought of him. “And I also kept the flower crown, your grace. Rhaegar was my love and I have no intention of marrying you. Please choose another bride.”
But Robert only saw what he wanted to see. She call her mad and confused. That the Dragon Prince had not only stolen her maidenhood but also her sanity. Nevertheless, Robert insisted on marrying her and he sent one letter after another to make this clear.
The situation became so dire, that even Jon Arryn was pressed to come to Winterfell.
“The King insists upon it. He is obsessed.”
Lyanna said nothing. She had already spoken the truth.
“As you can see…my sister is not well, my lord.”
“Only mentally,” Jon Arryn said and looked at her as if she was nothing more than a piece of furniture. “Perhaps it will do her good to be wed, Ned. To do what a woman was born to do…a handful of children and she will forget all the woes of the past. Your lady wife agrees with me.”
Lyanna said nothing and simply ran out of the room, least she insulted a man Ned called father.
Yet her rage was burning hot in her chest. And she knew the source of her pain now. It was Lady Catelyn’s work.
“Did you write to him, my lady?” she asked the Lady, not hiding her anger anymore.
The Lady did not hide her distain as Lyanna came to stand before her. “I did what I thought necessary. It is too dangerous for you to stay here. Its treason what you and Ned are doing. And it will do you good to do your duty…,” she was about to continue, but Lyanna had already done the unholy deed.
She had raised her hand against Ned’s wife. She knew it was wrong, but she had lost her temper. The wolfs blood had shown itself.
The lady stared back at her with anger, rubbing her red cheek.
Lyanna felt immediately sorry. “I did not mean…”
“You will leave!” the Lady shrieked and Lyanna complied. “You will leave at once!”
Ned came shortly after. He looked paler than usual and deeply disturbed.
Lyanna knew why. “I am sorry…I didn’t mean it. You know my temper. I will apologize…,” she began, but Ned shook his head. He looked like he had waged a very long battle and had lost it.
“Lyanna…Cat is right. You cannot stay here. Please, marry Robert.”
Lyanna felt as if someone had doused her in ice water. She wanted to vomit.
“No,” she said. “I rather die.”
…
Weeks passed and she knew Ned had made further preparations without her approval. He had dresses fit for her. He also took Jon away from her and no amount of pleading could change that.
Lyanna had not eaten for days when Robert came.
She did no care to look at him and she knew that made him angry. She could see it in his eyes. It was the only satisfaction she had.
There was no marriage ceremony either. Lyanna was simply not willing to comply and no one cared about it either. And why should anyone care? She was just a woman.
It was the third day of Robert's stay that Ned asked her to give her agreement. He offered her in turn to see her son.
Lyanna had spat into his face for that, but agreed in the end. Jon seemed disturbed by her sudden return, but she was not afforded more than an hour. Benjen wasn’t seen either. She was sure Ned had sent him on an errant. Perhaps to court a lady.
Thus, she gave the vow beneath the heart tree, but she knew it was not true. In her heart she was still wed to Rhaegar.
Robert did not attempt to touch her while they were still in Winterfell. In fact, he did not even attempt to speak to her until they reach the Riverlands. There, they resided at Riverrun for a handful of days and Robert made his first attempt to consume their marriage.
Lyanna did not refuse him, but she did not encourage him either. She was just silent and that seemed to upset Robert more than the mention of Rhaegar.
“Look at me,” he tells her that night and grabs her neck roughly, forcing her to look at him. “Look at me, woman!”
Lyanna closed her eyes and on the next day her neck was bruised. She hid it beneath a shawl and spent time in company of the ladies of Riverrun. She listened to their tittering, attempted to sew some clothing, and nearly vomited out her supper that night when she thought of Robert touching her again.
And he did so aplenty. Sometimes, two or twice or a third time. She never moveed, she never said anything, although he caused her nothing but pain. And was that her fault? Robert seemed to think she was just born to please him and his cock. Well, that was not the case, for whenever he tried to enter her, she was dry like a desert. She could tell that he took as little pleasure from it as her.
She was only glad when they were finally allowed to leave Riverrun. On the road, Robert kept a distance, spending time with his companions. She knew he was whoring, but she couldn’t care less.
He took offence to that the most. That she simply did not care.
It was on their last night on the road, that he lost his temper for the first time. He was trying to get her to eat, but she refused.
“You will look at me,” he demanded again and pulled on her arm. “As your king and lord husband I demand it!”
Lyanna had tried to pull away, but he had only pulled harder, forcing her to look at him.
“You are not my king,” the words had so easily slipped out of her mouth. The lack of substance must have caused it, and she paid the price.
Ours is the Fury.
The name was a fitting one for Robert.
For that night he dealt her the first badge of honor. He slapped her, reddening her cheek and making her spit blood.
He was drunk and he used that as an excuse for his actions before mounting her again like the disgusting pig he was.
That night Lyanna dreamed for the first time of killing him. Oh, how sweet would it be to cut his throat and see him shit himself?
Yet the dream ended when she arrived at King’s Landing. Just another prison. A comfortable one, but a prison, nonetheless.
She did her best. She dressed like a queen, spoke like a queen and was mostly silent. Robert tried to apologize and sent his kin to her, to convince her to forgive him. It was Lady Estermont, one of her ladies-in-waiting.
“Robert always had a bit of a temper, my lady,” she told her and sipped on her tee. “His father was much the same. My sister often had to endure his temper, but Steffon rarely overstepped his bounds. It happened only twice that he struck her and as a good woman would she forgave him. What is only wone slap, my lady? It is a thing easily forgiven.”
Lyanna had not answered. She had only nodded her head in silence. Two moons in King’s Landing and she wished to burn down the Red Keep. At times, she dreamed of it. Green fire, engulfing everything. It was a beautiful dream.
But then Robert returned. Her nightmare in human form. He forced her to attend his tourneys, go on hunts and spent all day in his company, when all she wanted was to die.
At night, he was now even more forceful. He believed that a child would change her mind, would make her love him. The mad girl he had wed.
The court viewed her in a similar manner. They whispered behind her back and smiled at her in her presence.
The only one who seemed even more miserable was Ser Jaime Lannister. He hated Robert, so much she could tell and soon she learned by that was the case.
Robert had forced his sister to wed his younger brother. Lady Cersei was maybe less miserable than her, but it was clear that Ser Jaime loved her.
At first, it was only a suspicion of hers, but one night she found them pressed against the wall, whispering to each other and Lady Cersei’s skirts pulled up.
Ser Jaime found her soon after.
“I saw it,” she told him then. “And I shall keep it a secret, good Ser.”
Ser Jaime was awestruck. “You would? Why?”
“Because I know what it feels like to love someone,” she told him then and from that day on, Ser Jaime became her only friend.
He kept her company on her endless walks, told her stories about his times as a boy and how he dreamed of being a famous knight.
Lyanna listened and one night they talked about Rhaegar.
“You loved him, didn’t you, your grace?” he asked her.
Lyanna nodded and Ser Jaime and she never spoke about it for a long time. Since then, a year had passed and her courses had stopped.
At first, Lyanna believed she could bear it. Having Robert’s child, was not something she wanted. Not after the way it was conceived. She vomited whenever she thought about it and one day she climbed upon a horse and race it too fiercely through the kingswood. She fell and the child was lost.
She only wished she had died with it, but the gods were cruel and never allowed mortals their wishes.
Robert was angry of course and has both the horse and the groom put down. Lyanna spent the next moons in bed, being left at peace from Robert. Only Ser Jaime come to visit her and took her for a walk or two.
“Next time, tell me what you need, my lady,” he told her. “I did it for my sister once…early in her marriage to Lord Stannis. She was with child…my child.”
Lyanna did not refuse him. She simply kissed his cheek and thanked him.
Soon after she had recovered from her ordeal, Robert returned to her bed. By then, she had learned to accept it. She thought of Rhaegar, the ghost she had banished away for so long.
Robert noticed nothing, became happier, but even he had long realized that she was not his. He thought company with other women and she never conceived again. She made sure of that.
Ser Jaime was kind enough to bring her moon tea. Every time.
…
She did not know how they found out, but one day Lyanna was dragged before Robert. One of the servant girls had slipped it to Robert that she was getting moon tea.
Of course, he did not believe it at first, but when they had scoured her chambers, they had found plenty of proof.
Damning proof.
For the first time in their two-year long marriage, Jon Arryn urged Robert to put her aside, but something inside Robert must have held him back.
Instead, he sent Jon Arryn away and took what was his right by force. This time, Lyanna did not accept it. She struggled, kicking and biting and when he was done, she was blue and red and yellow all over.
Robert then locked her up, only allowing her visitors he approved of. Every night, he came to her drunk and raped her. And when she did not comply he slapped her.
It was during these nights, that Lyanna had her wolf dreams again. She dreamed of killing Robert. Sometimes, she stabbed a dagger into his ever-growing belly and sometimes she burned him alive.
Burning him alive, that was her favorite dream. She enjoyed hearing him scream, just he liked to make her scream.
This was her only comfort in her prison. A light in the darkness.
She did not now how much time had passed, when she was allowed to leave for her prison. They were going to Winterfell. To visit her brother. Somehow, the Greyjoy Rebellion had taken place while Lyanna had been locked up in her prison. She felt alive again for the first time in years when she put her foot into the stirrups of her horse.
She is also with child. A child she hated.
She did not care for herself. Not more since she had left Winterfell. She raced her horse as wildly as she wishes and when they arrive at her home she spent all day outside, playing with the children.
Jon had grown so much and he did not recognize her. He called her aunt instead of mother. She was a stranger to her as well.
Lady Catelyn treated her the same way, but Ned seemed pleased to see her. Lyanna in turn showed him the cold shoulder while Benjen was her center. He had wed Dacey Mormont and they seemed quite happy.
Lyanna went hunting with her, loosing arrows on wild hares in the Wolfswood. She was even wearing breeches and waved a blade. Dacey liked her and Lyanna liked her as well.
She could not describe the feeling, but her strength returned slowly. She felt like a human being again and no longer like a beaten dog.
Her happiness was only dimmed when Lady Dacey discovered her scars. Lyanna had taken a bath in the hot springs, hoping no one would see her.
She tried to overplay it, but Lady Dacey was blunt and direct like a sharpened blade.
“Is this the king’s work?”
It felt so good to speak the truth. “The king has a temper.”
“So, I heard,” Lady Dacey said with distain. “Does Lord Stark know?”
Lyanna silenced her. “No, and he can never know.”
Yet Lady Dacey did not keep silent. She went to Lord Stark. Lyanna knew Ned and Robert had quarreled when Robert came to her, weeping. He apologized profoundly and blamed it on the wine. He also told Ned about the moon tea.
“Why are you making your life so hard, sister?” Ned asked her afterwards. “You know what Robert is like…he has a temper. You must also think of your child. You will see, a child will calm him.”
It was in that moment that Lyanna realized what a coward her brother truly was.
She had been right not to trust him, but she didn’t want to go back. Yet she had no other choice.
This time, she bore the child, a boy whom Robert called Steffon. He was healthy and he looked like him. Lyanna did not care and spared him no attention.
Robert on the other hand loved that boy and left Lyanna at peace for a while. She was allowed her freedoms and spent most of time with Ser Jaime.
He knew about Jon by then and trained her in swordmanship. She also noticed how handsome he was, and at times he reminded her of Rhaegar. Ser Jaime in turn, sometimes compared her to Cersei, who had apparently wanted to learn swordplay as a child.
And like this, things came as they must. They fucked. It was no fucking between lovers, for she did not love Ser Jaime nor did he love her. It was a way of defiance and to forget their sorrow.
It was foolish and dangerous, but when she falls pregnant, she was blessed with luck for the first time, for her child took after her. With the brown hair and grey hairs of a Stark her daughter was not mistaken as a Lannister. She also received a Stark name. Lyarra, after her mother.
Robert seemed pleased enough, but his son was the only joy in the world, while Lyarra became a comfort to Lyanna.
Thus, three more years passed and another two more sons followed. One died in the cradle, and must have been Robert’s because his hair had been black. The fourth one took after Lyanna, although his hair was slightly lighter in color. It was brownish and his eyes grey-blue. Robert wanted to name him Durran, but Lyanna insisted on calling him Benjen, her favorite brother. Lyanna was sure the boy was also half a Lannister.
At times, she laughed madly at the turn of events. The Stark Whore and the Kingslayer. Oh, what a fine pair they made!
Yet it was the only thing that kept her sane throughout the next years.
By then, Robert had finally decided he had enough heirs. He spent his time with his whores, not with his raving wife. Lyanna spent her time with her children and Ser Jaime.
Life could have gone peacefully like this, but then fate struck again. For their oldest was stuck by an arrow during a hunt. No one knew, how it had happened, but Ser Jaime was very upset for days afterwards, claiming it was his father’s work, the father he had been estranged from for many years by then. Of course, he did not voice these thoughts to the king and Lyanna was too lost in her grief to do anything. She had not loved the boy, but he had been her child. The peace offering that had held their life in balance.
For Robert it was even worse. He spent his time whoring, drinking himself into a stupor and blaming her for the boy’s death. Lyanna endured it and reminded him that he still had a younger son, who clung to her skirts like Jon had once done. At times, she pretended it was Jon.
But that was only the beginning, for a moon later Jon Arryn perished from a fever and Robert decided Ned must be his Hand.
Thus, they were to ride North to fetch Ned. Lyanna only wanted to see her son.
Her estranged son, who was now a young man. Benjen had long moved to Moat Cailin and had children of his own. Jon had decided to live with them, no longer wishing to be a burden on his family. He told Lyanna of his dreams: he wanted to be sellsword, a knight and see the world and Lyanna granted him this wish. She sponsored everything and when they returned to Moat Cailin on their way back to King’s Landing, he told her that he would leave soon.
Lyanna kissed his cheek that night and left him with a letter, urging him only to open it when they had left.
Lyanna had given him the truth he deserved and what he did with it would be his choice.
Only Lyanna could not have foreseen that her son would seek out his blood relations in exile. Perhaps, she had only been too naïve, to think her son would not take after his father and mother, two fools who had caused the rebellion with their actions.
Robert is seething with anger when he heard of Ser Jon, the knight he had sponsored changing sides to the enemy. Apparently he had sworn his sword to Prince Viserys, convincing him to seek an allegiance with Dorne.
“They must die!” Robert had demanded. “The dragonspawn must die!”
Lyanna had protested, claiming that he could not kill more of his own blood, but Robert had silenced her with a slap, right in front of Ned.
Ned had looked embarrassed like the first time he had been confronted with Robert’s temper. Lyanna asked him to join her side, but by then Dorne was preparing for war and the Reach was showing sympathy for not only one, but two princes that had returned from exile. The second was no other than Prince Aegon Targaryen, supposedly Rhaegar and Elia’s son that had been whisked away before the Mountain could kill him.
Robert called for their deaths, prepared for war, but Lyanna had already made up her mind.
There would be no second Trident.
Only Fire and Blood.
That night, Robert came to seek her out. Drunk, as he was did not noticed that his bed had been doused in lamp oil. Picking the coals from the brazier with her bare hands, she threw them at the doused bedding. The lamp fire burned bright and fast, his screams echoing in her ears.
And Lyanna just laughed. The mad queen. After so many years, her dream had finally come true.
He who had haunted her with his greedy eyes was dead and gone.
Of course, they found her later. They declare her mad and lock her up with only Ser Jaime as her companion.
The mad queen as they called her now, but Lyanna did not care. She had done her part.
The rest was up to fate.
…