The Tower of Joy was an ill-suited name for the stack of stone that greeted Eddard Stark's eyes.
A single round tower, it had been raised atop a point in the midst of the Red Mountains, a rather splendid view of the Prince's Pass and the deserts of Dorne. But all Eddard Stark saw as he and his companions, forty men of both the North and the Reach, rode up the narrow mountain trail was his sister's face, wondering if it would be the same or an entirely different Lyanna to greet him—or if she'd even greet him at all.
Or if he even wanted her to.
Aelor Targaryen had told him the truth, the truth that had changed everything. Brandon had ridden into King's Landing demanding vengeance for an abduction that hadn't been an abduction, eventually losing not only his life but the life of their father as well. Eddard had ridden to war not only to save his head but to recover his sister, who had been taken against her will by the heir to the throne.
Only she hadn't been taken against her will. Half his family dead, all over a misunderstanding Lyanna had helped facilitate. Eddard was as aware as anyone of Robert's lusts; he'd seen Mya Stone, Robert's bastard, with his own eyes. He was also aware of Lyanna's opposition to the match, as his only sister was anything but subtle.
But for Lyanna to have run off with Rhaegar Targaryen without a word, starting a chain of events that led to thousands of men dying…Eddard simply didn't know what to think.
He really didn't know what to think when he looked to the trio of midwives he'd brought along. Aelor had told him bluntly of the condition Rhaegar had left his sister in, of the child of a King growing in Lyanna's womb. It was just another decision in a years' worth of decisions that Eddard didn't know how to handle, though in truth this particular one had been taken from his hands. Prince Aelor had made it clear that the child once born was to be brought to King's Landing, where it would be raised alongside Aegon and Rhaenys as a Prince or Princess.
Ned Stark wasn't sure if the Prince Regent's plans included his sister or not, but he highly doubted it. A blind man could see the Prince held Lyanna partially to blame for all that had transpired.
The Dornish scouts that Prince Oberyn had sent to show Eddard and his party the way reigned up as they crested the mountaintop where the Tower stood, and Eddard soon saw why. Two men in white armor, the remaining knights of the Kingsguard, stood shoulder to shoulder in its doorway, hands on their swords, faces impassive even as forty mounted men formed a half circle around them.
Lord Walter Whent, formerly a vassal of the Riverlands and now a direct vassal of the Iron Throne, rode his palfrey to the front. "Oswell."
Oswell Whent, distinctive helmet bearing a black bat with spread wings under one arm, nodded at his brother. "Walter."
"I suppose you are aware the war is over."
Gerold Hightower the White Bull, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, answered for him. The aging, broad-shouldered man had reportedly been there when Aerys burned Eddard's father, having been sent to find Rhaegar shortly afterwards. Rhaegar had returned months later while the White Bull had not, the reasons for it now clear. "We hear it is only beginning."
"You hear wrong," put in Lord Cleyton Byrch, the direct vassal of Duskendale that Aelor had sent with Eddard. The main was rumored to be vexingly arrogant, but he had lost both of his brothers during the war and had spoken very little since.
Eddard nodded his agreement. "Lannister will fall in time."
Whent looked at Ned then. "Lord Stark, I suppose you are looking for your sister."
The Lord Paramount of the North nodded. "You suppose right."
"She is here," the Lord Commander admitted. "Our King ordered us to protect her at all costs."
"Your King is dead," said Ethan Glover, voice vicious. He had ridden with Brandon and his party to King's Landing that faithful day a lifetime ago, the only survivor of the retinue. Aelor Targaryen had released him from his captivity at the request of Eddard, and it was clear the lad held quite a bit of disdain for Hightower. It is to be expected; the White Bull was the one to throw him in his cell.
"Your new one resides in King's Landing, awaiting your return to swear fealty." Eddard prodded his garron forward slightly. "Lyanna is my sister. If you were to guard her, it should not be from me."
"You and your armies killed the King," Whent replied, face and eyes still utterly calm. "You were his enemy."
"Yet I am not yours," Eddard responded, meeting the Kingsguard impassive demeanor with an icy one of his own. "I have bent the knee to King Aegon; many of my bannermen now ride with Aelor Targaryen's army. There is no fight here."
Hightower was appraising the three matronly women hanging back. "I see King Rhaegar informed his brother of her condition." His eyes fell on Eddard. "She is in the later stages now; riding horseback may harm the babe."
Eddard nodded. "We are prepared for that. I just want to see my sister."
Whent and Hightower glanced at one another for a moment, the Knights of Kingsguard conversing without ever speaking, before Hightower looked back to Ned. "She is in the top room, Lord Stark," The Lord Commander said, the knights stepping aside. Ned dismounted, waving his men to remain there, and hesitantly stepped into the tower.
The second he saw his sister he knew he'd forgive her. His anger at her foolish flight was still present, even underneath the layers of ice Eddard Stark used for blood, but the relief at seeing her alive in that moment overruled everything else.
Lyanna was at a window on the other side of the tower from the entrance, staring out over what Ned was sure would be a fantastic view. Dressed in a green gown that certainly wasn't of Northern make—not that he blamed her considering he was sweltering in his furs—the swell of her stomach was absolutely unmistakable, particularly on a frame as slight as hers.
She didn't turn, though she was surely aware of his presence. "Lyanna," he spoke quietly, still standing in the doorway, ecstatic to see her whole yet hesitant to fully enter.
Her voice was small and soft, words that certainly wouldn't have described it a year ago. "Ned." Another silence hung thick in the air, one Eddard didn't know how to fill and Lyanna didn't seem to want to. The Lord of the North could only stare at the side of his sister's face, full of words he wanted to say yet unable to manage a single one of them.
Lyanna Stark sighed after a long while, breaking her gaze from whatever it was she was seeing outside to finally look at him. The young fire Ned remembered was gone, replaced by a weary, haunted glaze to her grey Northern eyes. She turned herself to face him squarely, resting one hand atop her heavy belly as her lips quirked into a sad smile. "I hear you are the Lord of Winterfell now."
Ned only stared for a moment, wondering how in the name of the Old Gods that was the first thing she said, before slowly answering her. "You hear right."
His baby sister nodded, looking down. "Rhaegar told me what happened to father and Brandon."
A spark of anger melted a sliver of the ice in Ned Stark's veins. "Rhaegar must have told you a lot of things."
Lyanna didn't look up to meet his eyes again, instead speaking in that same small voice. "He did. He told me many things; wonderful things."
Eddard momentarily wanted to raise his voice, but the look of guilt in his sister's face and the tone of defeat in her voice killed it quickly. Instead he took a small step into the chamber, still several paces away but closer than he had been. "I suppose the Kingsguard told you of what happened."
This nod was smaller than the first, even smaller than her voice. "Robert killed him. And then Aelor Targaryen killed Robert."
"Yes."
Another silence descended, broken a few minutes later again by Lyanna. That is all well and good; I haven't a clue what to say. "Is the war over?"
Eddard took another, almost imperceptible step towards her. "No. The Prince Regent is in the Westerlands, chasing Tywin Lannister after he murdered Elia Martell."
A flash of guilt, so potent it took Eddard aback, flashed across the She Wolf's face at the mention of the woman she had been meant to replace. "Rhaegar told me Aelor loved her."
Eddard nodded, though Lyanna wouldn't be able to see it as her eyes were still locked on the ground. This isn't the Lyanna I once knew; this isn't my sister. "He did."
"That was how he justified it, you know." Lyanna moved her eyes from the floor to look out the window again, though she kept her body facing Eddard. "He said Aelor would love her more than he ever could; as much as he loved me." A tear, only one but enough to tear at Eddard's hardened heart, slipped down her cheek. Lyanna never cries. "He said she loved him too."
He swallowed. "I never truly met her, but I believe she did, yes."
Eddard managed another two shuffled steps before she broke the next silence. "Benjen?"
"He is the Stark at Winterfell. You know as well as I there must always be one."
Lyanna nodded lightly. "I feared he had seen the battlefield as you have." He saw her swallow before she spoke again. "Robert's brothers?"
Eddard knew it was a diversionary tactic, one meant to keep the conversation away from all that she had done, but he obliged her anyway. "They nearly starved to death in a siege, but Stannis listened to me for the sake of Renly and surrendered. Mace Tyrell is escorting them to King's Landing." He stepped within an arm's length of Lyanna though he didn't reach for her, instead noticing how her entire body was shaking. He spoke again to give her more time to compose herself. "You likely have a niece or nephew by now."
That statement finally drew her gaze back to her brother. "I do?"
Eddard nodded. "Catelyn Tully and I were married soon after the war started. She would have been due to the birthing chamber two weeks ago."
Lyanna smiled, a quivering one but a genuine one as well. "I'm so happy for you, Ned." The smile lessened. "Will anything happen…I mean, since you surrendered will there be—"
"There were repercussions," Ned cut in gently. "Or I should say there will be; hostages to serve in the south, including my own child annually, but altogether more than we could have hoped for. Prince Aelor favored leniency. He knows the war was brought on by only a few men."
Lyanna's voice broke, though she kept the unshed tears he could see from falling. "And me." Eddard could say nothing, as her statement was true, no matter how much it pained the both of them. Instead the Lord of the North gently reached out to lay a hand on his sister's arm.
It was as if a dam had burst, his usually strong and stubborn sister breaking into sobs that wracked her body and Eddard's heart, her hands clutching at his woolen coat. Eddard did the only thing he knew to, taking his sobbing sister in his arms, paying careful mind to keep from applying pressure to her swollen belly.
The Lord of the North wasn't good at expressing his feelings through words—that had always been Brandon's specialty—so he didn't try to. Eddard didn't reassure her with statements of her innocence that weren't true. He didn't tell her it was all over now because it certainly wasn't, not with a royal bastard growing in her belly. All Eddard Stark did was hold his sister as she cried, her sobs shaking them both. It was all he knew to do.
And, though he didn't realize it, it was enough.