summary: the things you and ned told the world that happened at that tower weren't entirely true. but lies to keep a promise are both honorable and not.
Dorne was warm. She knew this long before she'd ever been to the kingdom, and long after she had entered it. But then, trapped in a tower, the highest room her friend could find, the heat was beginning to be unbearable.
She wasn't meant to be there, neither was Lyanna. But Y/N had been friends with the prince since they had met, and it had grown to be a stronger bond when she was eight and became his mother's ward. Her father had only encouraged the friendship, Lord Tywin hoped the prince could develop feelings towards his daughter and make her his queen.
The prince went on to marry Elia Martell, and Y/N found herself with no romantic interest in the prince. She would remain by his side, no matter his feelings towards her. She would watch as Elia gave him a daughter, and how she would later bear a son.
The tourney of Harrenhal was the last time she felt at peace—or perhaps the one before that when her younger sister, Cersei, convinced her to visit Maggie the Frog. The future she spoke of was nowhere near pleasant.
"Y/N?" It was Rhaegar's voice that broke her thoughts. She turned from the window to see him dressed in the same armor he had on when he brought her and Lyanna here. "What are you doing?"
"I could ask you the same thing," she motions to the Targaryen sigil on Rhaegar's chestplate. "What happened?"
"My leadership has been requested at the Trident," Y/N nods, and in true Lannister nature doesn't ask the questions that come to her mind, only pretends to know the answers, "my father gave the order."
Her stoic expression twists into one of concern. "You can't go."
"Y/N—"
"You can't go. You can't keep us here in this tower for months with no word on what's happened and suddenly be needed in the Riverlands in war armor!" She stands, beginning to walk closer to him. "Your father is not the same man he was years ago. His mind is something else. What could he need you for?"
Rhaegar turns his behind him. He hasn't moved from the doorway of Y/N's room. She knows where he's looking. Lyanna's room—his room. "Robert Baratheon has declared war. After Lyanna left with me, her brother Brandon and her father went to mine seeking justice. Rickard demanded trial by combat and my father's champion was wildfire."
How could he know that? We've been here for months, no possible contact with anyone outside. How could he know this?
She must have let her thoughts slip through her lips, because the prince gave her and answer: "one of the guards sent me a raven."
"Who?" Y/N asks, but she knows he won't tell her that way. "Jaime?" Her throat goes dry and the thought of her younger brother acting as a spy. He may be a great knight, but he isn't the best Lannister at lying.
Rhaegar shakes his head.
"Doesn't matter who. I am to go to the Trident. Ser Arthur and a few other guards will be staying with you and Lyanna."
"No. You can't, Rhaegar. You'll die. I've met Robert Baratheon—he loves her—he won't stop until your dead and she's returned to him." She hated speaking about Lyanna like she was a toy Rhaegar had stolen from Robert because he wanted it instead. She did. But it seemed to be all she was to them which made it worse. "What of your child?"
Rhaegar is silent for what feels like an eternity. Y/N pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in unease. A pit in her stomach forms because he's going to leave Lyanna's child just like he left Elia's—this isn't the Rhaegar she grew up knowing. He wouldn't abandon them, he couldn't. "That's what I came to talk to you about."
▾
She doesn't know if it's been days or weeks or only hours. What she does know is word came that Robert Baratheon won the battle on the Trident, and Rhaegar lost his men and his life.
Lyanna is clutching her hand, screaming out in pain as swords clash outside. It has to be weeks, allowing whoever is outside time to travel and find them in Dorne.
"Lyanna, I need you to breathe," Y/N tells her, trying to soothe the labor pains. She doesn't know if she's doing it right—she doesn't remember Joanna giving birth to her siblings. She just remembers seeing little Tyrion and not her mother ever again. "Lyanna, look at me," the Stark girl's eyes open and her head turns, "breathe. In through your nose, and out of your mouth."
Lyanna complies, grabs Y/N's hand and squeezes it so hard she thinks she hears a small bone crack.
"I want to go home," Lyanna cries between her labor pains. "I want to go home."
Y/N bites the tip of her tongue, "you will, Lyanna, you will. I'll take you there myself."
▾
"Ser Arthur Dayne is not outside."
Y/N's heart drops, and her hands subconsciously hold on to Lyanna's son a bit tighter in her arms. One of the handmaidens says it.
"Heal her," is all she says, looking down at the little boy she's holding. Aegon. Rhaegar left a note saying he wanted him named Aegon. She looks up again, "what are you standing there for, heal her!"
"Of course, milady."
Y/N moves to the opposite side of the bed, kneeling down and showing the boy to Lyanna again. Lyanna's bleeding too much, she knows that. She won't make it back to Winterfell. Not alive. "He looks like you," Lyanna's tired eyes open to look at him. A smile dances on her lips, but it falls too soon. "Maybe we should give him a Stark name instead."
Lyanna shakes her head. A faint movement Y/N isn't even sure happened, but pretends she saw for her own sake. "Robert, Robert will find him..."
"No he won't," Y/N assured, "I won't let him."
The handmaiden moves to get another clean cloth, rinsing it in the bowl of water by the window. "Someone's coming!"
Reluctantly, Y/N stands, taking little Aegon in her arms and hiding in the corner. It's so unlike her, so un-Lannister like. She can't help but wonder what her father would say if he saw her now, how ashamed he would be. She wonders if he rebelled against the crown, or sided with the Targaryens. Jaime was a kingsguard knight, surely the Lannisters weren't rebels. Her only crime would be being here, in Dorne. A selfish thought as she swaddled the sleeping baby to her chest, watching his mother bleed out.
I can't do anything to save her. I promised I'd protect her. Rhaegar made me promise to protect her and I can't.
The door opens, the handmaiden jumps, and Y/N shrinks back towards the wall. "Lyanna!" The man says, shock clearly written on his face. He carries an extra sword, Arthur Dayne's sword, and sets in at the foot of the bed before cowering down next to Lyanna.
It's her brother, Ned Stark.
Y/N had seen him once before, at the tourney of Harrenhal. When Rhaegar rode past Elia Martell and crowned Lyanna as his queen of love and beauty. Ned has been beside Lyanna, and Y/N's eyes drifted from the scene of winter roses placed on dark colored curls.
"Ned?" Lyanna stirs on the bed. "Is that you?" Ned gazes at her, he's never seen her in such a state. Her hand moves from her stomach almost to touch his face, but the energy to do so leaves the Stark girl just as fast. Instead, the motion of her hand no longer putting pressure on the wound makes a sound drawing Ned back to reality, back to the fact his sister was taken and he's only found her to watch her die. "You're not a dream?" Her hand falls limp on her stomach once more.
He strokes her sweaty forehead to try and soothe her, "no," he gives a sad smile, "I'm not a dream." Lyanna's breathing is more labored, and Y/N glances to a maid to her left. "I'm here. Right here."
"I've missed you, big brother," Lyanna tried to smile.
"I've missed you too."
"I want to be brave," both siblings are on the verge of tears—maybe one is already crying.
"You are." Ned shushes her, still trying to soothe her pain.
"I'm not," she removes her hand again, showing her brother the blood slipping down her pale skin. "I don't want to die," she admits.
Don't let anything happen to her, you have to protect her, Y/N please. Rhaegar's voice is an echo in the back of her mind. She looks at the infant again.
"You're not going to die!" Lyanna's crying now, but there's no water left in her body to spare for tears. Y/N just watches, frozen, as the teen girl's chest goes up and down as she starts to sob. Ned turns to her: "Get her some water!"
"No! No water—!"
"Is there a maester?"
"Listen to me, Ned," he turns back to her and Y/N adjusts baby Aegon in her arms. He's still asleep, but he stirs like he'll wake up soon. Lyanna urges him closer and whispers in his ear. She tells him the baby's name, from the little Y/N can hear. "If Robert finds out, he'll kill him. You know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned."
Ned backs away from his sister, her hard breath leaving his ears. He's in shock, he doesn't believe it to be true. He gazes up at Y/N Lannister, then to the bundle in her arms.
She walks quickly, Aegon waking up in her arms and beginning to cry as she hands him over to his uncle. She kneels next to him, and watches as Ned cradles his head where Y/N's hand was just seconds ago.
"You have to protect him," Lyanna says again. She looks at Ned again, "promise me," her eyes shift to the Lannister girl too, "promise me." The words die on Lyanna's lips.
Promise me, promise me.
▾
Y/N Lannister has only been afraid a few times in her life. One of which is now, as she rides behind Ned on his horse, Lyanna's son in her arms. Now, though, she must refer to him as her son. Hers and Ned's.
"Where are you taking me?" She asks him, not taking her eyes off Aegon's—no, the baby's name is Jon. After Ned's foster father, Jon Arryn.
"We're going to Winterfell."
"Why? Why not return me to the Westerlands?"
Ned doesn't answer her. She must piece it together in her head:
I've had your bastard son. I was in Winterfell, not Dorne. I managed to get there with help along the way. I tried to find you, Ned, but you were gone. And married to Catelyn Tully with another son she named Robb. I've had your bastard son, dishonored myself in doing so.
Y/N Lannister has only been afraid a few times in her life, once now when she rehearses her story in her head. This story she will tell the world, and she is afraid they won't buy it.
They have to.
You have to protect him, Lyanna said. Promise me.
I promise.