Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to George R. R. Martin and HBO.

Arthur I

The Stark girl was bleeding out. Something had gone wrong with the childbirth. Arthur Dayne was not maester, but it did not take a maester to figure that out. They only had Tera, an midwife from Sunspear. This was something Rhaegar had not considered in his mad plan: the girl might not be able to live long enough to become his queen. A scream broke him out of his thoughts, and he remembered why it was he was in this room. Nothing in his vows required him to stay here; she was Rhaegar's wife, yes, but her son had been born and he was their king now. If he had been any other man, he might have left the girl who had made the realm bleed. But that was unfair; he loved Rhaegar, as a king, as a brother, but Rhaegar was mad. His prophecy had driven him to war, and his love for this Stark girl had driven him to lock her away in here. No, he was staying because her brother was still miles away, the other two were guarding their tower, and right now, he was her only friend.

Arthur knelt down beside her, and her hand clutched his instinctively. Even as she died, her grip was strong. It was a shame such strength had been born to a girl. If she had been a man, she could have been one of the greatest knights in the realm. But the gods had a sick sense of humor and had cursed her to a life of dresses, courtesies, and betrothals. It was because of this the war had begun in the first place. Her father had tried to control her, restrain her, and had given her to the one man most unfit to do that: Robert Baratheon.

His blood boiled when he thought of that oaf. Robert Baratheon had loved his Lady Lyanna, truly he had. But as they had all learned in their time in this tower, he was in love with a dream. Lyanna Stark was not a lady, was not meant to wear pretty dresses and giggle and be obedient and good. She was fierce - a she-wolf - and in some ways, was more like Robert than a lady. Both of them fought for what they wanted, were stubborn beyond compare, and were blinded by their own wants. Robert by his love, Lyanna by her urge for freedom. Perhaps, if her father had put more thought into things, none of this would have happened.

"Arthur," she whispered, her voice weak. She didn't have long, only a few minutes at best. From outside the room, her son's wailing could be heard. A weary smile crossed her face. "Let me see him. Let me hold my son."

Maybe before all this, had she asked that of him, he would have denied her. The King must be taken far from here. He is no longer your concern. But no matter where he stood before, he couldn't deny her this. He called to Tera, who was holding the poor child, and she entered. The baby was swaddled in Arthur's own white cloak. There had been little else to use, and it was old anyway. He wouldn't need it where they were going, besides. She passed him the child, who continued to cry out, and he in turn passed him to Lyanna.

Almost as soon as the child was in her arms, he quieted down. She was his mother, after all. Of course he would find comfort in her. She shushed him, rocking him slowly, back and forth. She was weak, and Arthur was surprised she was managing to hold onto the child. He had no name yet, having only been born some hours ago. They would need a name for their king. It only seemed right that his mother, who he would never know, should be the one to decide.

"Is he here? Has he come?" There was no need to clarify who she meant. Ser Barristan had taken only a small part in all of this, but he was their brother and their friend, even if he was no longer a part of their Kingsguard. When he learned that Lord Eddard Stark was going to Dorne to search for his sister, Barristan had immediately sent a raven. He had no way of knowing that the rightful king was with them, so he only warned them. Leave, his letter had read, save yourselves while you still can. Eddard Stark may not kill you, but Robert Baratheon surely will. Go, my brothers. Go across the Narrow Sea, if you wish. Serve Queen Rhaella and protect her children. The war has been won and there is nothing that can be done about that. I pray that one day, you will forgive me.

There was nothing to forgive Barristan Selmy for. He was an honorable man, a knight of valor. If his king was dead, he would do his duty and protect the next. That was who he was. He had no way of knowing that his next king was here, with them. One day, Arthur hoped they could tell him and that he could join them in their fight for the son of Rhaegar.

"No. Lyanna, I'm sorry. He has not come." It might have been that which had kept her alive for so long. Tera said that she should have died hours ago, not long after the child was born. But Lyanna was nothing if not a fighter. She had fought for her right to be free. She had fought to bring her child into this world. She had fought to see her brother. Now, though, there was not enough time for her to fight any longer. She couldn't hold on forever, and Eddard Stark was still a long ways away.

She gripped his arm, pulling him closer to her. There was desperation in her eyes. She knew that it was almost over, too. Rhaegar was dead, had been killed at the Trident. Aerys had been killed by Ser Jaime, a crime they could not entirely fault him for. Elia and her children had been murdered by Tywin Lannister and his men. Rhaella was across the sea, hopefully kept safe by Ser Willem Darry. All that remained now was her and the three there and her son. Her son who had not been named.

"Promise me," she began, stopping to swallow hard and stop the tears, "promise me you'll look after my son. Protect him, save him, serve him. Please, do not let Robert kill him. Whatever my crimes, whatever my faults, do not blame them on him. Please."

He felt these words had been more prepared for her brother than him. She was asking him to do something that was already his duty. She knew he would have carried this out, regardless if she had asked for it. But she was dying, and a dying mother was allowed to have some wishes for her children. He held her hand that was on his arm. "I promise you, on your old gods, on the Seven, on the Red god across the sea, and the others too. By all the gods, I promise you I will protect your child until my last day."

Lyanna smiled, and the last of her energy left her. She sagged back against the pillows, looking exhausted. "I had hoped to see Ned before this. I guess this is my punishment for all I have done. I will not see my brother and my son will not know me." She let out a humorless laugh. "It is not nearly enough recompense for all that has happened, but it hurts enough that I suppose the gods do not care."

"My lady, my queen," for Rhaegar had married her before he left, "you cannot leave us yet. Not yet." Her eyelids were beginning to droop. He knew that if she slept now, she would never wake from it. "Lyanna, please, do not leave yet. Your son needs a name. Let him have one last gift from his mother."

That did it. Her eyes opened wide, and there was a surprised look in them. It was almost like she had forgotten to take her shoes off in bed rather than name her son before she died. Arthur had taken the boy back, afraid that in her weakening state, Lyanna might drop him. With his help, she held him for the last time. She looked at his face, at his tuft of dark hair and his grey eyes. He would look more like his mother than his father.

"Jon," she finally murmured, so low that Arthur had to lean in to be sure he heard right.

"Jon," she repeated more firmly. He nodded. Rhaegar may have declared that was not a name for a Targaryen - Aerys, too - but neither of them were here now. Jon would fit him better, anyway. He had the appearance of a northerner. A name like Jaehaerys or Daemon might have seemed strange on him.

"Jon," Arthur agreed. The boy fussed in his arms, and he thought how the boy would never be held by his mother again. It brought an ache to his heart. Hadn't there been enough death and suffering from this war and Rhaegar's accursed war? Weren't there enough orphaned boys out there, that had no one? Did the gods have to add another to that list? Were they punishing the boy - Jon - for a crime his parents had committed and not he himself? Or were the gods just cruel like that?

Her grip was slackening, her fingers slipping away. "Arthur," she breathed, voice little more than a whisper. Desperately, he reached for her hand. It was futile; he was trying to hold onto her life, to keep her there with him. Maybe they weren't the best of friends. Maybe she wasn't Ashara and he wasn't Eddard. But for almost a year, she'd been his only friend beside Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell, and he hers. By the gods, he couldn't just let her go without a fight.

"Please, tell . . . tell Ned I'm . . . I'm sorry for . . . all that has . . . happened . . . and the truth . . . and that I . . . I love him . . . so much . . ." With a final sigh, she let her head fall back. The light that had once glowed so brightly in her eyes, the light that had been her will to live and fight, burned out. Only darkness and an empty feeling was left. She was no longer a lively girl that was too young to die. She was now just a corpse, just another story to be told.

He began to weep. How could he not? It was all too much. Rhaegar had been his friend, and now he was gone. His mistakes had brought war to the realm, and so many had payed for it. He held a baby in his arms that wouldn't know its mother or father, would spend most of its life running from shadows. Before him was the body of a girl that had not deserved all this pain, that had only been looking for freedom. It wasn't fair. None of it was.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, holding her lifeless hand and her child, who cried now. He was only broken out of his tears when he felt a firm and gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking away from the girl, he stared up into the eyes of Ser Gerold Hightower. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard's eyes were filled with sadness; Lyanna had been his friend, albeit a short time, too. She was not to be blamed for Rhaegar's mistakes.

"She's-she's," he tried to say, but couldn't bring himself to. Ser Gerold only nodded. He knew. He understood. His hand hadn't left Arthur's shoulder. He was looking down at the baby now, a silent question on his face. "Jon. His name is Jon."

"A good northern name. He will be a good king," Gerold promised, though there was that unspoken thought in there. They'd believed Rhaegar would be a good king, and look what had happened. They could only pray that between themselves and the gods, Jon Targaryen would not take after his mother. "We need to leave soon," Gerold continued. "We're going to have to find passage to Essos. That's where we'll find Ser Willem."

Arthur nodded, not wanting to speak. There wasn't anything to say, really. Their brief princess, or queen, or whatever Lyanna had been was gone now. They had an infant king, a boy prince, and another baby to protect. And mayhaps a Queen Regent, too. They had to leave Westeros, if they were to protect their king. The Tower of Joy had served them well during the war. But it wouldn't be long before someone found them and Robert Baratheon came looking for the boy. They couldn't hide here forever, and the Tower was no place to raise a child.

They'd left a note for Ned Stark, as well as Tera and the body of Lyanna Stark. Arthur prayed it would be enough, prayed it would keep Lord Stark from pursuing them. Lyanna had sworn that her brother was not like Robert Baratheon. He hoped she was right. It may have been unwise, leaving the only woman they had at the tower. The three of them took turns holding Jon, feeding him from the goatsmilk they carried. It would run out soon, but thankfully, they were only a day away from Starfall. Home, he thought to himself.

He had not seen Ashara since the Tourney of Harrenhal. She had been Elia's friend and had stayed with the Princess through it all, faking the anger and rage at Rhaegar's actions. Elia had not been mad, not like Rhaegar. But she had understood he needed to complete this prophecy, needed to have a Visenya for his Aegon. She was unable to give him any more children. So rather than grow angry by it all, she had helped them.

When Rhaegar decided he wanted Lyanna Stark to be his second queen, the mother of his Visenya, she had given him her protests: the girl was too young, she was betrothed, she wanted freedom, it would anger the Starks. Rhaegar had not listened to her, and maybe he should have. Elia's protests had died away, and instead of complaining about it, she sent them Tera, gave them the Tower of Joy. She even wrote to Lyanna, providing her with another friend. She had been the reason why Oberyn had not marched off to the Tower of Joy immediately to kill Rhaegar and throttle Lyanna. Elia Martell was stronger and more intelligent than anyone ever gave her credit for. And now she was dead.

Ashara had done her part, too. She'd given them shelter at Starfall on their way, had spoken with Lyanna and done all she could to help the young she-wolf. It was more than just helping out her friend; Arthur's sister was hopelessly in love with Ned Stark. The two had kissed at the Tourney, she had told him. They'd promised to marry one another after consuming rather too much wine. And when word reached them that he had married Catelyn Tully to gain Hoster Tully's support in the war, her heart had broken.

His sister would hold no ill will towards the child. If anything, its Stark looks would help to ease her heartache. Maybe they could take her with them. There wasn't much left for her. She would be forced to marry some other lord, would have to leave her home. She could never inherit Starfall, and never have Ned Stark. Maybe their mission could give her another purpose.

The road was dusty, the sun hot. Their armor was wearing them down. When they stopped, it wasn't for very long. They didn't know what Ned Stark would choose to do. They had to keep moving. Little Jon was asleep, resting in the crook of Arthur's arm. His white cloak still covered the boy protected his skin from the sun. That was what he did most of the day; he would eat, sleep, and cry. By now they had gotten used to the cycle.

"Up ahead," Ser Oswell called out, his voice dull and raspy from the road. They didn't speak much between one another, as there wasn't much to speak about. Arthur raised his head from where he had been gazing down at Jon, and a smile lit his face. Starfall was just as he remembered, majestic and beautiful and home. He hadn't been there in years, having served in the Kingsguard for many.

As they neared, riders rode out to approach them. They stopped some feet away, shouting, "Halt!"

Arthur was tired and sore and irritable from the long journey. So were the others. Rather than kindly greet them and ask for shelter, he called out to them, "Step aside you fools. Do you not recognize a Dayne when you see one?"

"Ser Arthur?" They asked incredulously, their faces ones of shock and surprise. No one had heard of the fate that had befallen Ser Arthur Dayne and his two brothers in the war. It was as if they had seen a ghost.

"Yes," he snapped, "now are you going to make myself and my fellow Kingsguard here wait in the sun, or will you move so we may enter Starfall?"

The men quickly moved aside, giving hurried, "Yes, Ser," and "Sorry, my lord." He didn't have the time nor strength to correct those who called him lord. Instead, he and the other two urged their horses forward and entered Starfall.

Arthur embraced Ashara once they were alone in her room. Jon was sleeping on the bed, having been fed milk from the wetnurse, Wylla, and taken care of. He and Gerold and Oswell had been given food and water and rooms to stay in. They would leave soon, probably in the next day or two, so Arthur made sure to spend a little time with his sister before they left.

"Oh brother, I heard about Rhaegar on the Trident. Robert Baratheon sits the throne now. What will you do?" Her eyes were sorrowful, though they held some joy at being reunited with him again. She had lost so much. He had learned that Brandon Stark had taken her maidenhead at the Tourney of Harrenhal, and left her with a bastard in her belly. The baby, a girl named Allyria, had died not long after birth. And on top of that, Ashara's best friend, Elia, had been brutally raped and murdered along with her own children.

"We are going to take the true king and raise him with his grandmother." He could trust Ashara. Even if her loyalties were not to Elia, she would never betray her own kin.

"Of course, only . . ." she trailed off, a look of regret coming onto her face.

"What, sister? What is it? Has something happened?" Could the gods punish them even more? Had Robert Baratheon found them? Killed them? Smiled at the bodies of little Viserys and the baby that had yet to be born?

She bit her lip, and he saw the pity in her gaze. "Brother, the Queen Regent . . . word reached us that she died birthing her daughter, Daenerys Targaryen. Only Viserys and Daenerys live."

Arthur stepped away as if slapped. The Queen Regent was dead? He ran a hand through his pale hair, shocked to the core. Another orphan child. Like Jon, this Daenerys would grow never knowing her mother or father. The gods were cruel.

"So it's true?" Ashara asked, standing next to where Jon lay. She brushed his cheek with her thumb. "This is the new king? Your new king?" There was no hate in her voice, as he had known, only weary resignation. Of course she would be saddened by the sight; she had only just lost her own child.

"Yes. His name is Jon."

"He looks like Ned," she murmured, more to herself than him. She spoke again, this time directly to him. "Did you see Ned? Did he come to the Tower?"

He shook his head. "No. Lord Stark was on his way, but Lyanna had already died and we were not sure where his loyalties lay."

"You could have trusted him. He would have done nothing to his sister's child." He had suspected as much, though he couldn't be certain.

"Sister," he said, taking her hands in his. "Will you come with us? Jon needs someone to care for him. Daenerys too. I know you have lost your own child, but we could use you." When she turned her head away at the mention of her daughter, he cupped her cheek, bringing her eyes back to his.

"I can't, Arthur. I just- I just don't know anymore." She sat down on the bed, resting her head in her hands. "We have lost so many. I don't know if I can truly deal with this anymore. First Rhaegar, then Elia and sweet Rhaenys and little Aegon. Now Lyanna and Allyria. I just don't know anymore," she repeated, shoulders shaking as she began sobbing. Her words should not have affected him so, but there was something hidden behind them. There was some meaning that he wasn't catching on to. With a start, he realized what it was.

He backed away now, fearful of the truth. She-she couldn't. No, not his sister. She wouldn't. "Ashara, you're not saying-"

"I am!" She screeched, jumping to her feet. The noise had woken Jon, who began crying. Neither of them could spare him a thought, so caught up were they in this sickening realization. "I can't do it anymore! Everyone's gone. They'll give me away, sell me to someone else. I understand why Lyanna ran. I do now. I can't love anyone besides Ned and now's he's gone. I don't have Elia to rely on, to give me strength. I don't have her children to give me happiness and I don't have my own to care for! And you're going to leave me too. You're going to leave me for the king that brought this all upon us! You're going to leave me to protect the cause of so much bloodshed and war!"

Her face was red and tears ran down her cheeks. Arthur could only stare at his sister, unable to move. Gods, she was really thinking about it. She would really do it. All of a sudden, the anger left her. Ashara's shoulders drooped and she seemed barely able to hold herself upright. Jon was still crying, and now she heard him. Walking slowly over to the bed, she picked him up, cradling him to her chest. After her outburst, Arthur put a hand on his sword pommel, afraid his sister might try something.

She waved her free hand dismissively. "Do not worry, brother. I won't hurt him. It's unfair to blame him, I know. He wasn't even born when this all started. But I meant what I said. I can't do this anymore. I love you brother, I do. You have purpose in this world. You have him to protect, to raise, and the other two as well. You have a king to serve. There is nothing for me."

Carefully, she held Jon out to Arthur. Tentatively, Arthur took the baby. He could not stop himself from shielding the baby slightly. This was not the sister he knew. She saw his action, but there was no hurt in her eyes. Only a small, sad smile twitched at her lips before it disappeared.

"Go, Arthur. Raise your king. Bring the rightful rulers back to Westeros. But do not try to stop me. There is nothing you can do to make me feel better. No one can. I'm sorry, Arthur. I truly am. I love you."

Arthur began to cry, and so did she. They both knew it was true. Nothing could be done to stop her. It was her choice. Arthur had reason to remain. She did not. And as much as he loved his dear, sweet, caring sister, he couldn't stop her. So he cried, and let her hold him. He let her scent wash over her, let the feeling of her arms be burned into his skin, for after they left, he would never feel it again.

"I'm sorry, brother," she whispered against his hair, placing a soft kiss against it. He weeped, almost as much as he did when Lyanna died, for this would be the last time his sister would ever embrace him.

They left two days later, taking a ship from the Sea of Dorne. They would travel to the Free Cities with Ser Willem Darry, Prince Viserys, and Princess Daenerys. They would protect their king, and his aunt and uncle. They would find an army, and raise Jon to be the greatest king the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen. Then they would sail back across the Narrow Sea. They would take back Westeros and restore House Targaryen as the rightful rulers.

After her brother's departure, Ashara Dayne threw herself from the Palestone Sword tower at Starfall.

A/N: Originally posted on AO3. Story not strictly kept to TV show. The timeline may be different from books and show. Feedback is what I'm looking for, so if you have anything to say, review or PM me. Also, important character (Arthur Dayne!) not listed in character selection, so keep that in mind and eventual Jon/Dany. Review, follow, favorite.