A.N: This is not canon but with this fandom I think, it is pretty much impossible to write something accurate.

For the prompt given to me by a friend, who still claims Jon Snow can't be a dragon because of his colouring. I personally think he needs a reason to be in the books.

Her eyes are red.

Her eyes are bloody and red and that is the first thing he notices. Not the stabbing wounds near her breasts or the bruises on her arms, not even the bloody bed she is currently sitting on.

Her are red and he can't fucking stand it.

He remembers Lyanna as a baby, as a little girl who broke her arm after falling of her saddle, he remembers the young woman who had seen Robert take an arrow to his arm.

He could never stand to see her cry.

Lyanna had been the youngest of Rickard Stark's four children and while Brandon made it his duty to teach Benjen anything he possibly could, Ned had been the one to take care of Lyanna. He remembers giving her anything and everything just to see her not crying.

He approaches to her slowly, the room is dark, it smells of sickness, it smells of death.

She doesn't see him or maybe she is too afraid to look up. Ned thinks it might be the blood leaving her body that causes her the tears, or maybe it is the desperation.

Anything is better than the pain she must feel from the blood pooling under her legs.

He doesn't see the pink flesh and the sticky dark hair until he crouches to her eye level.

Lyanna is holding something, he realizes, she is holding someone. The baby, such a ugly little thing he thinks, but something so beautiful in a miraclous sort of way that makes him want to have a family with the Tully girl, stares at him and he can see her eyes.

The baby can not be Robert's for it has been over a year since Lyanna has been taken so he knows that the young boy Lyanna is holding might be the newest heir to the Iron Throne.

But he can't afford to think about that right now. Her eyes are red and she is crying and Ned has always been the only one who has been able to stop her tears. He sits at the head of the bed and cradles her fragile, broken, dying body in his arms. Blood doesn't faze him, the baby seems t be fine and rightnow Lyanna is the only one in the while wide realm who needs him.

As Lyanna dies in his arms, too tired to even whisper the babes name, he tries to lull her to long sleep with one of their lady mothers old rhymes. The babe, still awake looks curiously at him and he can see the tears welling up in young lads eyes. He leaves Lyanna's body in the bed and picks the boy up from his dead mothers arms.

He wraps him up in his cloak and leaves Lyanna to be find by Robert for he knows that the newly appointed king will take care of her, bring her back to home, to Brandon and father, to Winterfell.

The walk back to the camp is long and he has time to grieve for the boy who will never know his mother and make up a story to claim him, his.

He knows that it doesn't matter whether the boy is a Baratheon or a Targaryen, for he'll always be a Stark.

And maybe, just maybe that alone will be enough to stop his baby sisters tears.