She had ridden with her brother and his army to Storm's End. Lord Stark had forced the surrender of Mace Tyrell and greeted the now-skeletal Stannis Baratheon, Robert's younger brother who had been trusted with holding the castle. And hold it he certainly had. Judging from how emaciated every inhabitant of Storm's End was, whilst the Tyrells had feasted outside their walls, Ross doubted that anyone with a less iron will would have been capable of doing what Stannis had.

From there, she, Ned and small group including Howland Reed, Willam Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull and Mark Ryswell had ridden on into Dorne in search of Lyanna. Elbert Arryn, the only one of Brandon's companions who had survived the Black Cells, had wanted to come with them, but was talked out of going given his weakened state. Their journey had led them to the more temperate lands of northern Dorne, rather than the deserts of the south, and having spent several nights at Starfall, a servant had directed them to the Tower of Joy, about a week's ride away.

The three Kingsguard were waiting for them. Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower and Oswell Whent. And they insisted on fighting them, to prevent Ned from getting to Lyanna, which boiled Ross' blood at the pointless futility. She was forced to hang back at a distance, terrified that she was going to see another brother die in front of her, as one by one their companions fell. The Kingsguard were all formidable fighters, Arthur Dayne especially, whom Jaime idolised. He was the last one of them standing; him, Ned and little Howland Reed, whom Lyanna had defended at Harrenhal, donning the armour of the Knight of the Laughing tree.

When Reed stabbed the Sword of the Morning in the back before Ned got the final blow, Ross was already urging her horse forward, jumping off whilst still in a canter with Ren strapped to her chest, same as he had been the whole journey, rushing towards the tower door. Ross hurried up the stairs, calling for her sister, heart pounding at the thought of seeing her again.

"Lya. Lya, it's me, where are you?"

"Ross?" A weak voice called.

Ross burst through the door, only to stop dead in horror. Lyanna was lying on a bed soaked in blood, nursing a newborn infant to her chest. Her sister could barely raise her head to greet her.

"Ross," Tears trickled down Lyanna's face. "Are you real?"

"Yes," She rushed to Lyanna's side. "What happened to you, Lya, I - "

"I'm so sorry," The girl - for she was still a girl, not yet seventeen - cried. "I was so stupid. He said he would get me out of the match with Robert, and then Father and Brandon died and I wanted to leave but he wouldn't let me, and he was obsessed with all these bloody prophecies, he wouldn't let me go home - "

"None of this is your fault," Ross was crying too, now, seeing her beautiful, bold sister in such a state. "None of it. Is this - ?" She looked at the child.

"Jon," Lyanna sniffed. "His name is Jon. Rhaegar wanted him to be a girl called Visenya. The third head of the dragon. He was mad, Ross, as mad as his father. I'm glad Jon's a boy, and I've given him the most ordinary name I could. Who is this?" She pointed at Ren.

"My son," Ross had to give a weak laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Lyanna's eyes bulged. "What? How? Who's the father?" For the first time, she sounded like her sister.

Fuck it. "Jaime Lannister. No one else knows that, so don't be a blabbermouth,"

"Ross!" Her sister laughed, half stunned, half impressed, and Ross was laughing with her through her tears. Then Lyanna winced in pain, and the laughter stopped altogether.

"Lya, you're really hurt,"

"I know," She said. "I birthed him on my own, just hours before you came here. I was so scared, Ross, I thought I was going to die,"

"They didn't bring a midwife?" Ross was outraged, but that was overpowered with concern. "You - you're bleeding quite a lot, Lya. There wasn't this much blood, when I had Ren,"

Her sister ignored her. "Is that Ned I heard outside, along with all the shouting? Bring him in too,"

"I don't want to leave you,"

"I need him here, Ross, before - " She broke off.

"You're not going to die," Ross wiped a tear that had fallen, unbidden. "I'll try to stop the bleeding, I'll - "

"I've tried already. I tried stitching myself up, but it didn't work"

Before she could even think of replying to that heartbreaking statement, Ned was already coming up the stairs like a man possessed, bursting through the door and freezing at the sight of Lyanna and Jon the same way Ross had done.

"Lya,"

"I'm so sorry, Ned," Lyanna sobbed to see her brother, apologising all over again. She was growing more pale by the minute.

"She's bleeding a lot. Too much," Ross swallowed.

He steeled himself. "Howland knows a little of battlefield wounds. Lya, would you mind - ?"

"As if little Howland Reed would take any liberties," She attempted a scoff, but it came out rather weak. "Truly, Ned, I've suffered more indignities than a good man tending to wounds that happen to be in a personal place,"

Her brother's face darkened at that, but unlike Brandon would have done, he didn't let his anger show apart from that. Ross was grateful for it, as she quietly slipped downstairs to fetch the small crannogman.

Howland looked rather sorrowful, having examined the wounds. "I - Ned, there's nothing I can do. Nothing a maester could do, aside from what's been done already. I don't want to tear out the stitches and redo them - it wouldn't help much, and would likely just irritate the wound further. Either the bleeding stops, or it doesn't,"

It did not stop.

Lyanna thanked the crannogman where Ross and Ned were too choked to speak, giving him one last smile reminiscent of the one she had worn for most of the Harrenhal tourney. Howland then gave them some privacy, tending to the horses and cooking some of their meagre rations in the room below. But she was growing weaker by the minute, clutching her newborn son.

"He kept saying his children were destined to save the world from a great evil," She said in a rush, speaking of Rhaegar, as though imploring them to understand. "The three heads of the dragon, reborn. Madness, all of it, but he'd convinced the Kingsguard. He was determined it was me who would bear the last of the three. Something about ice and fire. I tried to come back, I truly did, especially when I heard of Father and Brandon, and you having to go off to war, Ned,"

"That's one thing to be grateful to Robert for," Ross said. "He smashed Rhaegar's brains out on the Trident with that giant hammer,"

That would have made her sister laugh, once, but now she just managed a weak smile.

As the day began to fade, Lyanna became more delirious. "Ross," She grasped for her hand in a panic. "Ross, they're not still going to make me marry Robert, are they? I can't do it, not now. I can't be Queen. Don't let them take Jon away,"

She would certainly not be marrying Robert. It was unlikely she would survive the night.

"You don't have to marry anyone, Lya," Ned reassured her, looking torn that she had ever faced such a possibility. "Don't worry about that,"

"That's good. Good," She settled slightly, then seemed to come back to herself a little. "Look after him, will you? Promise me,"

"I promise," His voice was hoarse. Ross murmured her agreement too.

"Thank you," Lyanna broke then, and started to cry. "I can't be brave anymore. Ross, I don't want to die. Please don't let me die. It hurts so much, please, make it stop hurting. I'm so scared,"

Ross was crying too, reaching out to take her hand. "You're the bravest person I know, Lya,"

A teary smile. "I'm glad you're here," She murmured. "Was scared I'd die all on my own. Tell Jon... I love him. I always will. I love you, too, and Ben,"

It didn't take long, after that. Lyanna became more delirious, delusional even, towards the end.

"Can we go out riding tomorrow, Ross? When we're home? I've had a horrible dream. I want to forget it, and race you through the Wolfswood,"

"Of course," Ross said, clutching her hand with tears streaming down her face. "Of course we'll go. It will be nice, won't it? The wind in your hair - "

" - and the smell of sentinel pines," Her sister finished. "That sounds lovely,"

Her hand went loose in Ross', her eyes fluttered closed, and Lyanna Stark slipped away. Another piece of Ross' heart died with her.

*

"Robert will kill him, if he knows the truth," Ned said, later, after they had sobbed together in that awful little room in the tower, and were sat around the fire with Howland Reed, eating a stew that might as well have been dust for all Ross tasted it. "You saw what Tywin Lannister did to Rhaegar's other children. And Robert smiled. I can't - "

He broke off, looking at the baby in Ross' arms; Ren was sat with Howland Reed, who was quietly feeding him mushed up food from their own meal, whilst she fed Jon herself under her cloak.

"I won't let him," Ross said. To her surprise, she believed her own words. What could anyone do to her that was worse than what she had already been through? Ross had spent her childhood concerned with what people thought of her, determined to be a dutiful daughter. Now, she found that she did not care. The idea of screaming at the King of the Seven Kingdoms, a warrior six-and-a-half feet tall who wielded a warhammer as big as she was, was not one that scared her.

"No one can know," Her brother said. "I can't see what happened to Rhaenys and Aegon happen to him. I can't see her... die birthing him, for it all to be for nothing,"

Ross smiled without humour. "Do you want a bastard of your own, or shall we double down and say I've had a second?"

It was possible, all the time they had been away, and they could take their time getting back. Part of her wanted to make herself as unmarriable as she could. Her mother, and her sister too now, had died in childbed, a fate that did scare her. Not to mention, the idea of another man touching her was beyond repulsive.

"I'll claim him," Ned said. "He'll live at Winterfell,"

She glanced down at the baby in her lap. Her nephew. It was difficult, equating her vicious hatred of House Targaryen with the tiny thing whom she now held. There was nothing of Rhaegar in Jon's baby face, however. Dark hair, blue-grey eyes, and if she squinted she could even see something of Ned, as much as a day-old baby could look like anyone. Jon would grow up a bastard, not an entitled prince promised a kingdom. He would never sit the Iron Throne, his parents were not related in any way, and his family would be her own.

Jaime's words, from before Ren was born, came to mind. Jon was half a Stark. He was half-Lya, which vastly outweighed who his father was. Besides, Jon would never know who his father was. No one would. It was likely that either Ned or Ross would have to claim him as theirs instead, for if it was known than Lyanna was his mother then the father would be obvious. As angry as she was at the Kingsguard, they were right about one thing; Robert would kill any son of Rhaegar's without hesitation.

"Jon Snow, then," She said. "Your Tully bride will be delighted, having him growing up alongside her son,"

"I barely know Catelyn," He admitted. "She was meant to be Brandon's wife. I left for war the morning after our wedding, and I've never met our son,"

"You will get to know her," Ross said. "And you will be a good husband,"

"She wanted Brandon," He smiled ruefully. "I am well aware I am hardly what ladies dream of. Robert always liked to joke about my frozen face,"

"Ned, you are a Lord Paramount - that alone would make nearly any woman in Westeros want to marry you. More importantly, you are a good man. Honest, loyal, and kind. Brandon had a pretty face, and could be all charm when he wanted, which is good for a girl to dream of, perhaps, but Catelyn would have been miserable as his wife. He'd slept with half the maids in Winterfell, not to mention the Ryswell girl and countless others - which I can't imagine him stopping on Catelyn's account - and he had a hell of a temper,"

"Catelyn doesn't know that. She barely knew him, he was on his best behaviour around her,"

"Then I'll be sure to tell a few hilarious Brandon stories when she's in earshot. We'll get Ben in on it, too,"

That earned a short laugh out of him, and despite the pain of losing Lya, Ross chuckled too.

*

Robert was waiting in the courtyard when they returned, apparently having forgotten his argument with Ned entirely. Word had clearly been sent of their arrival ahead of them; they hadn't the people to spare to send a message themselves. Just Ned, Ross, Howland Reed, the wet nurse Wylla from Starfall, and the cart driver with Lyanna's covered coffin. It would perhaps have been kinder to send someone ahead regardless, so they did not have to see Robert's grin abruptly fall as he realised that the woman who rode with them was a servant, not Lyanna. They brought with them bones, not his bride.

"She was alive when we found her," Ned's voice and expression were cold, but Ross, and most likely Robert too, could see his grief. "And died of a fever less than a day later,"

That was the lie they had agreed upon. It seemed like sacrilege, to censor the true horror of what Rhaegar had done - he killed her - but it was necessary. And the King seemed to believe it.

"A fever," Robert's voice was hoarse. "Ned, I - " He broke off, swallowing.

Whatever he felt for Lyanna, regardless of the fact he did not know her, his grief was genuine. That did not stop her from resenting it; her sister had died, not the idealised girl the King dreamed of, and what right did he have? He had never, not for one second, doubted that Lyanna would want to marry him if they had brought her back alive. This was a man who had got everything he wanted if he tried hard enough, whether that be drinks, women or the Iron Throne itself. Why wouldn't his betrothed want to marry him straight away, after he'd just fought a war to get her back?

In that moment, she might have hated him, though of all her hatreds, this was relatively benign.

Ross left the her brother and his friend to their reconciliation, unable to face anyone at all. Once safely locked in the chambers she had been given, having unwrapped the cloths binding Ren to her chest, she had cried bitterly into the washbasin. She had cried too much, recently. Since Brandon and Father's deaths, she had held everything back, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of making her shed a tear. She had cried for Lya, and continued to cry for Lya, in private where no one could see. Though this felt like the last time. Being back in King's Landing was like slipping back into the mask she had worn for two years.

Wylla knocked on her door some time later, after Ross had washed her face. The young woman, only a few years older than she was, had lost her own baby (born of wedlock), and doted on Jon. Together, they got the infant settled in the crib alongside Ren. Ross was unwilling to let them be taken elsewhere (not that any more room would be made for two bastards), and had even had a mattress brought up to her rooms for Wylla, to watch them when she couldn't.

When another knock came, the next day, Ross assumed it was Ned, and let Wylla get the door. She heard the woman talking with someone, a man's voice too distant to make out.

"Ah, milady," The woman called back, sounding a little uncertain and slightly nervous. "Ser Jaime Lannister to see you?"

She looked up in surprise, though felt a rush of gratitude to see that Wylla had not opened the door fully. It was not common knowledge, what had happened to Ross, but Wylla had seemed to guess where others wouldn't, which made Ross think that her own stillborn, fatherless baby had not been lovingly conceived. The servant was willing to stand in the way of a Kingsguard knight to keep him from her, which proved her loyalty more than anything else.

"Ser Jaime can come in," Ross got to her feet. "Thank you," She put as much meaning into her thanks as she could.

"Would you like me to leave, milady?" A hint of a smile, now, as the woman started to understand. "I can take the boys, if you like?"

Where Ross would once have agonised over her reputation, she now found herself in a strange, apathetic state of almost wanting to self-sabotage it, nodding her agreement. "Yes, please. Though just take Jon,"

A definite smile from the maid now. Wylla lifted her nephew out of his crib and bobbed a curtsey, leaving quietly.

"He's grown," Jaime said once she was gone, nodding at Ren, who was now playing on the rug in front of the fireplace. Howland Reed had carved him a toy horse, which he was delighted by.

"It's been months," A trace of a smile. "Babies do grow. He'll be holding a sword before you know it,"

Her son was a lot more trouble since he had learned to crawl, months ago now. He would be walking soon, judging from his determined, if unsuccessful, attempts. Jaime watched him for a while.

"I heard about your sister,"

"Yes," Ross bit back the surge of grief that reared its head whenever she thought of Lyanna, let alone anyone mentioning her. "I got to see her, before she died, at least. And truly appreciate the beauty of Robert smashing Rhaegar's head in like a rotten fruit on the Trident,"

He did laugh at that. "Whatever will I do without your shining optimism, Ross?"

"You've got what you wanted from the start. To guard the King, whilst your sister is Queen," She made herself smile, like it was a joke they were both in on, rather than one at her own expense.

Jaime did not look pleased by this, though of course smirked to cover it. "Yes, I can hardly wait to listen to Robert putting his hands all over her. I thought I'd had my fair share of that already,"

Ross wasn't sure what to reply to that with. "Lady Cersei does not want to marry him either? I thought Robert was supposed to be someone maidens swooned over,"

"Oh, quite the opposite," He said, with no small hint of bitterness. "She's incredibly excited. She's wanted to be Queen since she was a tiny girl and our father put the idea in her head. In her last letter she was gushing about how handsome Robert is, how brave, how the whole kingdom is going to think they are the perfect royal match,"

"What happened to 'two halves of the same whole'?" Keeping any amount of cynicism from her tone was impossible, given she was in the excruciatingly awful position of discussing the father of her child's love for his own twin sister. Then she paused. "But - everyone only found out about Lyanna yesterday,"

"Cersei was convinced she would wed Robert since he took the throne," Jaime shrugged, though his tone belied his distaste. "Said that Lyanna Stark was 'ruined' and could never be Queen, even if she could be found alive,"

Ross felt cold anger pool in the pit of her stomach. Even though those were the exact arguments she and Ned would have used to prevent the marriage if Lyanna had not died, there was something deeply unpleasant about Cersei Lannister - a spoilt girl who Ross did not particularly care for anyway, despite having never met - taking glee from it.

"Sorry," Jaime added like an afterthought, though from his expression, and the fact he said it at all, she saw he meant it as anything but. "Cersei is... selfish. She always has been,"

I don't want to die, Ross. Make it stop hurting.

"I'm sure she'll be having a celebration when news of Lya's death travels west," She said faintly.

"You joke, but that won't be far off the truth,"

"She sounds delightful,"

Instead of making a joke, Jaime looked conflicted. "She is, around me. Around others, I'm not so sure. It never seemed to matter before. No one seemed to matter, except the two of us,"

*

Ross had a surprising visitor to her door that night. She heard the faint knock and her heart dropped. Jaime had seen that she was sleeping in a room with a servant and two children, surely he wouldn't... Perhaps it was Ned, and something bad had happened? As Wylla stirred sleepily on her mattress, Ross held up a hand to stop her rising, taking the dagger from her bedside behind her back to quiet the memories of Aerys that were threatening to drown her.

She padded over to the door in her long nightgown, and cracked it open.

It was Jaime, but he was stood beside the hulking form of Robert Baratheon. The King was clearly drunk, swaying where he stood and focusing on her with bleary eyes. Jaime looked angry. Despite the dagger, Ross was immediately overwhelmed with memories of every other time a King had visited her in this castle. It had only been a few months since, and suddenly she was back to when Aerys was alive, feeling that dread, hate, long nails raking down her skin -

"M-my lady," Robert slurred, stumbling forward slightly so the door swung open.

She didn't move a muscle, frozen in place, even as he grabbed her narrow shoulder for support.

"Your Grace," Jaime's tone cut like a knife, not missing the look on her face. He remembered, too. How could he not? "It is much too late to disturb Lady Stark. Surely it would be best for everyone if you returned to - "

"F-fuck off, King-slayer," Robert waved a bleary hand in his direction in irritation. "'M the King, I'll do whatever the b-bloody hells I want to,"

Ross got a hold of herself at that point, trying to get into her head that it wasn't the raving madman who still haunted her dreams that stood before her, but her brother's friend, who angered quickly but forgot just as fast.

"Aerys Targaryen liked to say much the same thing," She said. "Those were the same notions that set five of the seven kingdoms against him. The same notions that got him killed,"

Robert fell abruptly silent at that, seeming to rile in anger and deflate in horror in the same second. Jaime had looked at her in surprise, which annoyed her, was he used to her letting Kings walk all over her?

"I just... wanted to ask you," The King mumbled like a scolded little boy. "L-Lyanna. She - she's - "

"Dead," Ross said, not capable of mincing her words.

Robert's face crumpled. It would've been comical in another situation, to see the mighty warrior reduced to a drunken wreck with the emotional control of a child.

"Yes," He pressed on. "Lyanna - I want t'marry her. I don't want a... 'nother woman," Ross saw Jaime rolling his eyes, and was about to ask what exactly that had to do with her, but the King continued. "T'win Lann'ster wants me t-to take his daughter," She saw Jaime's smile fix in place. "I don't - I don't want his daughter. I want - Lyanna,"

Bloody hells.

"Your Grace," She said, tone icy. "I am grieving. With all due respect, she was my sister - "

"Yes!" Robert seized on that. "Yes. Th-that's why... I'm here. You-re her s-sister,"

She frowned. "What does - " She broke off, eyes widening in horror, completely caught off-guard by what she realised he was trying to say.

Jaime's mouth had dropped open for a second as he too caught on, before he quickly recovered himself, locking eyes with her over his shoulder like he did not know what she would say.

"M-marry me, Ross," Robert said, eyes barely focusing on her as he tried to take her hand. She stepped smartly back. "Marry me, 'n be Queen. Y-you look like her... a little. N' you're not so odd-looking, now you've grown up a bit,"

Ross' eyebrow shot up at that, unable to stop the incredulous laugh that broke through, particularly when she locked eyes with Jaime, who looked caught between amusement and shock.

Robert wasn't finished. "I s-saw Ned's letter from that mad b-bastard... I - I made him show me, he was... in such a t-temper. I know what the Mad K-king did to you. But I'd m-make... make you... a Queen,"

She doubted he meant to insult her. In many ways, he was right. She would be unlikely to find a husband who'd take her with Ren alone, and even then only because she was a Stark and the existence of her bastard had been kept quiet so far. If every kingdom knew she had been defiled by none other than Aerys Targaryen, that would be nearly impossible.

But she didn't care. She didn't want a husband, who would send her son away. She didn't want Robert, either. She didn't want to be Queen, and she especially did not want to remain in this city a moment longer than she had to.

"You're drunk," She said instead, exasperation and a pathetic kind of pity winning out over anger. "And grieving. You already have a Northern alliance. You need Tywin Lannister more than you need a wife who shares the name of your best friend. Marry Cersei, or any other girl, and we'll forget this ever happened,"

He looked ready to argue, but shut his mouth; even in his drunken state, he couldn't take the look she gave him for anything less than a dismissal.

"F-fine," He grumbled. "You... look at me like Ned does, any-anyway. Couldn't f-fuck a girl who looks... looks like Ned,"

Jaime snorted quietly behind him, and Robert shot him an unfocused glare.

"Back to bed, your Grace?"

"F-fuck off," Robert mumbled, but was already turning to go, stumbling down the hallway.

Jaime lingered to give her an incredulous look, mouthing 'odd-looking' over his shoulder, which made her smother another laugh, before following the King like any dutiful babysitter would. Babysitter could only be an improvement from what he was a year ago. He had to watch the last one burn people alive.

Ross closed the door, meeting Wylla's wide eyes. She had lit a few candles whilst they had been speaking, and had had no choice but to listen into that strange conversation. The woman didn't look sure whether to comfort her, laugh or keep quiet.

"Was he... serious, milady?"

"I couldn't tell you," Ross said faintly. "He's drunk, that's for sure. He could have been serious, knowing Robert. Or, even if I had agreed, he could have pretended it never happened tomorrow,"

"You don't want to be Queen?" The idea of turning such a thing down, even when there was the chance it was not a real offer, seemed insane to Wylla.

"I don't want to marry a man who will call me my dead sister's name with every thrust," She said bluntly. For that was what a marriage to Robert would be like. Wrestling him into doing anything remotely kingly, as his Hand Jon Arryn seemed to currently be doing, and being constantly compared to Lyanna.

The woman let out a startled laugh. "I can't say I blame you for that,"

"And I don't want to spend another second in this hateful city," She couldn't help but add.

Wylla looked sympathetic, and she realised she had heard what Robert said about Aerys. "Of course, milady. I understand. I couldn't stay in Starfall, either,"

The only people Ross had discussed the entirely nasty situation with had been Jaime - who lived it with her - and Ned, whom she had granted the bare minimum, neither of them wishing to linger on it. Hearing that from another woman, who understood in a way Jaime never would, was both comforting on some level, and made her rile inside on another.

It was after she and Wylla had both returned to bed, that Ross realised what exactly that predicament had meant for Jaime. He did not want his sister to marry Robert, she knew that much. No matter if he didn't say it, he would rather Cersei Lannister was married to him than the King. And Ross had just had the opportunity to possibly prevent that marriage.

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly in frustration. One problem solved just brought up two more. Though there was nothing she could do, even if she wanted to. If Robert chose a Stark over Tywin Lannister's daughter, he made a powerful enemy with enough influence to perhaps even restore Viserys Targaryen to the throne. House Targaryen had cost her her father, her brother. It had cost her any trace of innocence she had left. It had stripped her of her dignity, left her weak and powerless, left her body scarred and her mind haunted with horrors that appeared whenever she let herself finally drift into a fitful sleep.

Ross would die before another Targaryen sat the Iron Throne.

*

Edited November 2024