Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
“Teach your squire honour. That shall be ransom enough.”
These words spoken by the Mystery Knight kept running through Eddard’s head. The knight had challenged the three knights of houses Haigh, Blount, and Frey, the same three houses which the squires pointed out to him the night previous by Howland and his sister. ‘The knight could not have been Howland’, Eddard thought, ‘Benjen offered him armour and declined. Also, crannogmen are not exactly known for their skill in combat. They’d sooner navigate in a boat than mount a horse.' He pondered over his thoughts in the Stark’s tent on the tourney ground, as his lord father entered with his brother Brandon in tow.
“Have you seen your brother and sister?” His father asked in a hushed tone.
“Not yet Father,” Ned responded in an equally concerned manner.
“The grounds are crawling with knights and members of the Kingsguard all hunting for the so-called ‘Knight of the Laughing Tree’. I need to make sure that they are safe and haven’t gotten themselves into trouble.”
“Father, Lyanna is a grown woman and Benjen is slowly becoming a man-” Brandon said attempting to calm his father’s worries.
“That may be so; however, I wouldn’t put it passed one of them to do something ridiculous” Rickard interrupted. His father had a point, Lyanna had often been described as a ‘she-wolf’ and was known to be outspoken. Ned’s mind wondered, thinking over every possibility: could it have been Howland? How could he have procured the armour and the horse? Why use a weirwood as a symbol? Is it possible he had some form of experience with jousting? These questions came to mind whilst his father and Brandon discussed the whereabouts of his siblings, and suddenly, the answer hit him as if Robert’s Warhammer had landed on his chest. He was asking the correct questions about the accessories of the Knight: the armour, the horse, and the shield, but of the wrong man. In fact, he shouldn’t be thinking of a man at all.
***
“Oh, for f*cks sake, come off!” Lyanna attempted to bite back and she unsuccessfully undid her breastplate. Leaning against a large tree in the forest approximately half an hour away from the tourney ground, she had escaped as quickly as she could, finding the whole affair exhilarating. She, a young woman, had defeated three lords in a joust and finally experienced what it was truly like to be a knight. Her first, and most likely, her last chance as she was to be married off to Lord Robert Baratheon and was quite sure that he would not allow her to participate in a ‘male sport’. ‘Maybe years from now, I’ll reveal the truth to him in the most mundane way’ she thought, ‘Over breakfast perhaps, I shall say “Do you remember the Knight of the Laughing Tree all those years ago? Well, that was me.”’
After several attempts to remove portions of her armour, Lyanna decided to wait until Benjen and Howland showed up to assist her and take her back to their camp. Feeling the heat of the summer, she walked forward to the God’s Eye and splashed the cool water of the lake over her face to cleanse it, ridding herself of the sweat forming on her brow. Her brother and Howland were taking an exceptionally long time to reach her considering they were only meant to be a short ride away from their rendezvous point in the Godswood. From behind her, Lyanna heard the soft sound of feet moving towards her and began to mentally prepare a small speech lecturing Benjen and Howland about the importance of their role in this operation. However, the figure behind her spoke first.
“Good Ser, you seem to be lost. Are you in need of aid?” A soft melodic voice asked, making Lyanna freeze for a moment before slowly standing up and turning around to face the looming figure.
The man before her wearing a black cloak with dark ruby embroidery ornamenting the edges of his sleeveless jerkin. A longsword decorated with rubies on the hilt hung from his waist and silver hair framed his long face.
Standing before her was His Royal Highness Rhaegar Targaryen, Crown Prince of Dragonstone and the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, heir of the Mad King.
Lyanna’s perfect day had just become her worst nightmare.
Chapter 2
Chapter Text
“Your Grace…” the words were muttered from Lyanna’s mouth and she remained in a state of shock from her discovery. “I beg your pardon?”
“I was wondering if you wished for some help as you are quite far from the tourney ground and may require some directions” the prince explained calmly. Rhaegar himself was also slightly shocked to find a young woman alone in the middle of the Godswood wearing armour.
Lyanna collected her thoughts for a moment and responded, “I thank you Your Grace; however, my companions will be along shortly, and they will guide me home.” The prince nodded, his silver hair moving with the motion, and began to move closer to her.
“It is unfortunate that I inform you that your companions will be unable to meet you, my lady” he responded casually as he rested his left hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Why ever not? What has occurred?” she enquired inquisitively, concerned for Benjen and Howland’s well-being.
“Oh, it is nothing to fear, forgive me for worrying you,” he interrupted. “Currently, with all the excitement that has recently arisen at the tourney, there seems to be a hunt going on. The Godswood is off-limits to the people, except those on the King’s business, so it is most likely they will not risk entering.”
Lyanna’s heart rate reduced once she learnt that they were safe and began working on her plan to talk her way out of this situation, “There is always excitement at tourneys Your Grace, I am quite sure this one is no different.”
“As I would normally believe; however, you’d be surprised, my lady. A mystery knight entered the lists today and challenged the lords of houses Haigh, Blount, and Frey, defeating them all. Strangely, he did not wish for gold or fame, but simply for them to ‘teach their squires' honour’. Intriguing, is it not?”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Lyanna said quickly, realising that the prince was on to her. She hastily walked to the tree she had previously sat under, collected her shield, and made for her horse. The armour had been uncomfortable during the joust, whereas now, certain elements had begun to dig into her body due to her brother’s inexperience with dressing for battle, causing her a significant amount of pain. As she attempted to mount her mare, an audible sign that she was experiencing pain was heard by Rhaegar, urging him to move towards her.
“Please my lady,” he said softly, “allow me”.
She was hesitant, it was possible that he could be putting on an act and could turn her over to his father, but she simply nodded. Swiftly, Rhaegar began to unfasten the clasps around her leg and Lyanna studied his face as he worked – his skin was only slightly darker than hers due to his exposure to the sun in the South, and his features were softer than she initially believed. The first time she saw him was at last night’s feast and from a considerable distance, his features seemed sharp and harsh; however, only his jawline and cheekbones could be described as such. She had, of course, heard that he was handsome and that he was. Very handsome, almost beautiful. She concluded that he was around the same age as Ned, only a few years older than herself, but his athletic stature was more akin to Brandon’s figure.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Rhaegar removed her calf and foot coverings exposing them to the cool breeze coming off the God’s Eye and it felt glorious. The Dragon Prince looked up at her with a slightly red face as he realised the next piece of armour that needed to be removed. “My lady, if you permit, the clasps are in a rather awkward area…” he mentioned as his hand slid up her inner leg and Lyanna flinched, resulting in her knee colliding with the prince’s chin and her hands instantly grabbed the hilt of her sword.
Rhaegar, after an exclamation illustrating the pain caused by Lyanna’s knee, rubbed his chin and looked at the raven-haired woman opposite him. “My apologies my lady, but… it is the only way to remove them” he explained warily.
Staring him down, Lyanna came to the same conclusion as the clasps were situated at her inner thigh. She moved closer toward the prince and he resumed his work.
“I never asked for your name, my lady,” Rhaegar asked as he attempted to unclasp her armour. “I assume you are with the Northmen?”
For a moment Lyanna considered lying, but what was the point? She had already impersonated a knight and injured the Crown Prince; she couldn’t possibly do even more harm to herself now.
“I am Your Grace. Lord Stark is my father” she responded with confidence.
“Your father?” Rhaegar sounded surprised as he looked up at Lyanna.
“Is that such a surprise, Your Grace?” the two of them stared at each other for a moment without saying anything, before Rhaegar coughed and continued.
“So, Lady Stark, do you have a first name?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“…Lyanna, Your Grace”
“Well, Lady Lyanna Stark, we are done down here,” he said as he stood up and began on the breastplate. “So, tell me, how is it the daughter of the Warden of the North finds herself in the Godswood alone?”
Thinking quickly, she responded with, “The weirwood trees, of course, have been described as a remarkable sight and as a follower of the Old Gods, it seemed appropriate to visit.” It was frustrating to not tell the truth. To Lyanna, there was nothing wrong with defending a friend and woman training in the art of the sword. To the rest of the world, this was just not done.
“Really? Well, it is common for ladies of the north to walk about forests wearing armour?” Rhaegar asked in a knowing tone. ‘Of course, he would know’ Lyanna thought.
“Haven’t you heard? Mixed metals are all the rage now in ladies’ fashion.” Both of them chuckled together as Rhaegar loosened the breastplate and Lyanna was now free. She yawned and stretched, loosening the knots in her back and happy to be free from such a constraining piece of armour. “Thank you, Your Grace. That was very kind of you” she said humbly. He smiled back at her, making Lyanna also as she curtsied swiftly and headed towards her horse.
“Lady Lyanna” Rhaegar called from behind her, “I am afraid that you cannot leave just yet”
Lyanna, perplexed by the situation, turned around to face him. “Is there a problem with me leaving?” she asked incredulously.
“At this present moment my lady, yes” he responded as he moved closer to her. “Only I can help you now.”
“Help me? Whatever for?”
“Do you realise the consequence of your actions today?” Rhaegar took the shield that hung from Lyanna’s saddle and pondered on it for a moment before speaking again. “My father has declared that the Knight of the Laughing Tree is an enemy of the crown. He demands that the mystery knight is to be found and brought before him immediately to receive the ‘king’s justice’. My duty was to find the knight, as were many others: Ser Robert Baratheon, Ser Walter Whent, Lord Yohn Royce, just to name a few.”
Lyanna’s expression changed from one of disbelief to one of fear and anxiousness. Many high lords, including her fiancé, were out looking for her. “You must know that I did not mean for this to occur. I didn’t mean for this to happen! I only wanted to make sure those little bastards answered for their impertinence and absence of honour befitting a squire. I’m not an enemy of the bloody crown, I don’t give a sh*t about the crown! The king has nothing to do with this, it was simply…”
Her train of thought was interrupted by the feelings of smooth large hands on the shoulder and looked up to find deep violent eyes once again staring down at her grey ones.
“It’s all right, I believe you”
“You do?”
“Yes.” This calmed Lyanna’s nerves slightly to know that the Crown Prince was on her side. “However, you must believe me that the king will not show any mercy. Let me help you.”
She had no choice in the matter, follow his orders or die. “Very well. What must I do?”
Rhaegar smiled at her decision, “First things first, we must dispose of that armour. Somewhere where it cannot be traced back to you.”
Lyanna pondered on this for a few moments before concluding, “How about tying it up and leaving it in the God’s Eye? I highly doubt that high-born lords would go fishing for evidence.”
Rhaegar smirked and nodded in approval. “Would you mind helping me, Your Grace?”
“Rhaegar.”
Lyanna stared at him and said nothing, unsure if it was okay.
“Please call me Rhaegar, and if you allow it, I can call you Lyanna. We can put formalities aside and we can simply be a man and a woman enjoying each other’s company” He smiled, “whilst disposing of evidence of a so-called crime”.
This made Lyanna smirk, it was as if there was an unspoken trust between the two of them. He trusted her and she was beginning to trust him.
“Very well,” she responded slowly, “Rhaegar.” It sounded strange, using someone’s first name usually meant formal barriers had been broken and tend to be used for friends and those closest to someone.
“Excellent, thank you Lyanna!” She shook her head incredulously at his grin and passed him the breastplate and helmet, whilst she carried the rest to the side of the lake. Rhaegar came up alongside her and she handed over the other parts of her mismatched armour; nothing had fit right. Parts were too big and other were too tight, but with such a short space of time and an unconventional rider, it is extremely unlikely an armoury would carry a suitable size for her. “May I ask, where on earth did you get the armour pieces?”
“Well, I sent my brother Benjen and his companion to… acquire pieces from other lords who would not be needing it this day,” Rhaegar smiled at the idea whilst Lyanna filled him in the details of what had occurred between her decision to compete and the tourney match itself. He listened, intrigued at the complexity and intricacy of such as scheme, holding on to every word she said despite her accent which sometimes made it difficult for him to understand due to its thickness. The shield was her idea, as he presumed, and she described how she managed to talk her way out of watching the tourney with her family as well as entering the lists.
“This companion, is it the crannogman lord?”
“Aye. Howland has every right to be treated with as much respect as any high-born lord. Just because he looks a bit different or comes from a different part of the region, doesn’t mean that people can beat him down.” Rhaegar could hear the passion in her voice and immediately could tell another reason for helping him. Not only was it the right thing to do, but she saw herself in how Lord Reed was treated. She was unconventional for a lady and had prejudice cast upon her for being a ‘wild wolf’. It became clear to Rhaegar that standing up for the little guy was also standing up for her. He nodded in response and dumped the armour into the deep waters of the God’s Eye.
“There, I highly doubt anyone will find it now” he smirked at Lyanna who responded with a small smirk.
“Thank you. Truly.” She remorsefully picked up the shield next to her and presented it in front of him. “I suppose we should dispose of this…” she said regretfully.
After a couple of moments, Rhaegar responded, “Not dispose of.” He stood up and purposefully made his way towards her horse preparing to ride it, “Whilst everything else had to be done away with, I think the Knight of the Laughing Tree should have the last laugh” he said playfully and raised his eyebrow. Lyanna understood and stood up quickly, making her way hastily towards her horse with the shield in tow. Expertly swinging herself onto the mare’s back, Rhaegar followed suit and adjusted his position to fit comfortably behind her. The intimacy between her back and his chest made Lyanna slightly uncomfortable, but she did not deny herself the pleasure of the warmth the prince radiated and his hands around her waist for support.
Chapter 3
Chapter Text
They rode deeper into the Godswood, racing against those who wished to find and present her before the king as a traitor to the crown. Rhaegar instructed that they should place the shield before the great heart tree that lay within the centre of the wood to match the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s image. The heart tree was always described as having a terrible face and yet, Lyanna did not feel fear. Instead, it brought her a sense of comfort and peace. After examining it from her horse, Rhaegar offered his hand to Lyanna when dismounting and she accepted, despite her superior capabilities on horseback. The two of them walked towards the base of the tree, with Lyanna placing her small hand next to its face. This was the symbol of the north, of her home which she and Brandon were about to be torn away from to marry for political gain. Whilst she loved her father, she understood the game. Daughters were pawns for political alliances, to be sold and wed in order to secure the allegiance of some other lord. This coupled with her inability to train openly with her brothers anymore and the gossip surrounding her made Lyanna wish she had been born a man. If she were a man, she could go about enjoying the activities she wished to participate in without anyone batting an eyelid or conversing about her behind her back.
“Chilling, is it not?” Rhaegar asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“No…” she replied softly, barely making her response audible.
Rhaegar picked up the shield she had placed on the floor and made his way into her peripheral line of sight, “My lady of the laughing tree, would you care to do the honour?” His mouth formed a small smile and she reciprocated in turn, taking the shield from his large hands and placing it at the base of the large trunk. “Now all will know of your victory.” This warmed Lyanna’s heart, whilst it may not be her directly, she was being given credit for her triumph. She looked at Rhaegar and smiled, still not quite believing that this was happening. The Crown Prince had not killed her, had not dragged her before his father, but acknowledged her skills and helped her.
“So, what now?” She asked breathing out a final huff.
“Now, we wait. Let the commotion calm down and then we’ll make our escape. Then I will lead the others here to claim the shield.” He laid out his plan as he sat down on the grass beside a large pine tree and Lyanna nodded in agreement. She walked towards the tree opposite where he was sitting and sat down. There was an awkward silence between the two companions until Lyanna finally spoke.
“I heard you playing last night at the feast.” She stated, hoping that by bringing up a topic he enjoyed, things may seem less uncomfortable between them.
“Oh, yes… that,” he said almost bashfully. “Whilst I must be a warrior and a prince, music remains my passion.” Lyanna smiled for a moment, she was beginning to see the man behind the crown. “I’ve spent many a night at the ruins of Summerhall as it fills me with inspiration.”
“That sounds cheerful…” Lyanna responded sarcastically and Rhaegar scoffed as well.
“Well, you heard me play and I saw you pour wine on your brother’s head.” Lyanna could feel her cheeks getting hotter with embarrassment, cursing Benjen for teasing her last night.
“He deserved it.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
“Well, it must be to feel the wrath of the She-Wolf of Winterfell” Rhaegar chuckled.
“Well, he insulted me.”
“Pretty standard for siblings.”
“Yes, but again, he was being an arsehole.” Rhaegar’s chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. He enjoyed that for this brief period, he did not have to worry about being Crown Prince of Dragonstone and the Heir to the Seven Kingdoms, but simply a young man enjoying the company of someone he viewed as an equal. For the next hour, they talked about everything from their homes to Lyanna’s secret sword training with her brothers to Rhaegar busking in the streets of Fleabottom.
“Well, aren’t we a pair?” Lyanna chuckled. “Both forced to hide our true gifts to fulfil a role.” Rhaegar simply smirked, raising the right side of his mouth whilst his lips stayed pressed together. “It’s your fault you know.”
“My fault?” Rhaegar asked.
“Between you and me, I thought your song last night was beautiful, so I may have shed a tear or two. Benjen insulted me and voilà, wine atop his head.” Rhaegar let out a chuckle and then noticed a specific part of her sentence.
“You thought my music was beautiful?” He asked with a hopeful smile on his face.
Embarrassed, Lyanna attempted to again talk her way out, “Well, we don’t hear such emotional music often. Mainly fast-tempo dances and folk songs, such as The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Or frightening songs which scare the little children like The Rat Cook.” Even though she was talking, Rhaegar knew she was a little self-conscious and that flattered him. He felt he could open up to her more easily than his own wife, who still sometimes treated him as a prince first and a husband second. With Lyanna, he could be himself.
“Have you ever heard Jenny’s Song?” He asked.
“I have not. What is it about?”
“Truly a tale of woe. It is about a woman called Jenny of Oldstones, have you heard of her?” Lyanna shook her head. “She was a simple subject who eventually became the wife of Prince Duncan Targaryen, who married against his father’s wishes. He married for love.” Rhaegar paused, looking up from his hands and back at Lyanna’s face. There was a wild beauty about her short height, her slim frame, and her messy long dark hair; however, he found her most intriguing feature to be her cloudy grey eyes. “I hear you are betrothed to Robert Baratheon,” he asked.
“I am indeed” she responded with an additional unenthusiastic nod.
“Do you love him?” Lyanna’s eyes met Rhaegar’s and were taken aback by his question.
“Excuse me?”
“I take it you do not love him?”
“My heart’s affairs are none of your concern, Ser”
“Well your body language gives off an air of displeasure so I assumed-”
“Well, you assumed too much.” She spat back.
“So, you don’t love him.”
“I never said that!”
“You deny that you don’t love him?”
Lyanna scoffed at Rhaegar’s words, “This is not a proper conversation to be having.”
“Since when do you care about being ‘proper’?” Rhaegar said and smiled, “This entire time we’ve been together you have not cared about respectability.”
“Jousting and marriage are two very separate issues, Your Grace” punctuating his title.
“I was not speaking of marriage. I was speaking of love.”
“What if I should ask you about the intimate details of your marriage? What if I asked if you loved wife, Ser?” Before Lyanna realised how inappropriate her question was, it had already been said and immediately regretted it. Instead of feeling rage, Rhaegar responded calmly with his true feelings.
“My marriage was to form a political alliance. I respect Elia and care for her, she is the mother of my daughter and a kind woman, but to answer your question my lady: No. I do not love her.” Lyanna’s murky grey eyes widen slightly as for the first time, the prince acknowledged that he did not love his princess. She felt almost guilty for forcing him to admit it, but she also realised that the two of them were not so different. Not only were their favourite activities – particularly hers – frowned upon for people in their positions but he had also been forced to marry someone for another’s benefit, much like her situation with Robert.
The two of them continued to talk, keeping the conversation away from politics and marriages, telling each other stories of their childhood. Lyanna spoke of times when Brandon taught her how to pull pranks on Benjen and long forest rides with Ned, whilst Rhaegar spoke of spending the majority of his time as a child in the library of the Red Keep, deciding one day to become a warrior, and becoming friends with Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Jon Connington, Ser Barristan Selmy, and Ser Oswell Whent. When she was with him, time passed differently. It was faster than usual and did not want to think of leaving that part of the Godswood and parting ways. Every time he spoke, she learnt something new about him and her satirical views on him faded away.
Rhaegar sighed, stood up and walked towards Lyanna offering his hand and simply said: “Time to go.” Lyanna looked down at the grass for a moment, before returning her gaze to his purple eyes and accepted his hand, helping her to her feet. Both mounted her horse in silence and rode to the clearing Rhaegar originally found her in. He dismounted, surveyed the area from his position and returned to face Lyanna, “I will lead the others to the heart tree; therefore, it will seem as if the knight has disappeared.”
Lyanna nodded, “Thank you, Your Grace. I can never repay you for your kindness.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other again” She couldn’t quite understand whether Rhaegar intended for that to be a query or a statement. Before he could say any more, Lyanna spurred towards the edge of the Godswood where she could return to her family and the rest of her life, leaving behind her ulterior identity. Rhaegar stared and watched her, letting go of the most interesting woman he had ever met and the only one who stirred something within him.
“My lady of the laughing tree.”
Chapter 4
Chapter Text
Lyanna’s attire that evening was the complete opposite of the mismatched armour she had previously worn whilst competing in the tourney. Her dark blue dress framed her small stature, hanging loosely off her shoulders and sides of her sleeves draping passed her rough hands, a feminine look she saw not particularly comfortable in. She walked into the feast on arms of Benjen and Howland, who had not stopped questioning her and worrying about their identities being revealed and more importantly, staying alive.
“And you’re positive that he won’t tell?” Benjen asked in a hushed tone.
“Seven hells Benjen, yes! It’s all sorted, and no one will be able to find the armour” Lyanna whispered in response. “Will you stop worrying?”
“It’s understanding my lady, the king did say-” Howland began to explain before Lyanna interrupted.
“I know what the king said, hence why all the evidence is gone.” As the three of them made their way towards where the rest of the Starks were sitting, the volume of a loud drunkard, also known as her betrothed Robert Baratheon, was increasing as he closed in on her. Benjen and Howland, much to her protests, excused themselves leaving Lyanna alone to speak to her fiancé. “Lord Robert, it seems your evening is going well.”
“Indeed, my lady, much better from now seeing you!” He replied boisterously, Lyanna could smell the ale on him as he attempted to sling his right arm around her shoulder. “You look ravishing this evening Lyanna…” he whispered, attempting to sound seductive as he brought his face closer to hers. He was already drunk, and Robert knew Lyanna had heard about the rumours of him fathering a bastard daughter in the Vale, using his charm to win back her favour.
“Your kindness is grateful my Lord”. Ned could see that his sister was uncomfortable, and he understood. Whilst Robert was his best friend and closest companion, he knew Robert’s tendencies for whoring, something Lyanna had brought up as a concern to him before.
“Robert, my friend! How are you this evening?” Ned greeted his friend and escorted him to get another drink. Lyanna smiled, acknowledging her brother’s intentions, and made her way to where the rest of her family were sitting. With her eldest brother talking to her father, Lyanna’s eyes began to wander around the large hall, attempting to remember the names of the distinguished and famous guests: Oberyn Martell, the sister of Princess Elia, was charming one of the serving girls. Members of the Kingsguard were sharing a drink and joke, Ser Arthur conversing with the Lord Commander and the Mad King sitting alone with his thoughts staring at the space in front of him. As she continued to look around, her eyes met a familiar shade of violet which stared intensely back at her. The corners of Rhaegar’s lips turned upwards to create a small smile which Lyanna reciprocated, aware of the company the two were around.
Rhaegar did not take much notice of Lyanna the previous evening, too focused on the technicality and musicality of his performance, but now he was able to see her like a lady. Her wavy dark hair fell past her shoulders and finished at her waist, and her dress hugged her small curvy figure. Whilst she was playing the part of the lady, she exuded a commanding presence as she walked into the room, and it was her presence that brought Rhaegar back to reality. He hated to see her on the arm of that Baratheon drunkard; he had heard the rumours of Robert’s bastard daughter in the Vale and could imagine Lyanna was not pleased once she heard. She deserved someone who would respect her and treat her not only as a lady but as an equal.
Once the feast was underway, Lyanna attempted to enjoy herself. Most of the evening she spent talking with Howland and dancing with him as well as her brothers, endeavouring to avoid Robert as much as possible. After dancing with Brandon, Lyanna noticed a young gentleman wearing a Kingsguard uniform walking towards her escorting a beautiful tall dark-haired woman smiling gently as they approached.
“Lord Stark, how wonderful to see you this evening” a soft voice spoke.
“Lady Ashara, the pleasure is all mine” Brandon responded taking her hand and placing a kiss on top of it.
She smiled at him, the pupils in her violet eyes dilated as he carried out his gentlemanly gesture. “And this must be your sister,” she said, quickly disrupting the sexual tension between her and Brandon.
“Yes, this is Lyanna. Lyanna, may I present the lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall and Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard.” Lyanna curtsied to the siblings, smiling kindly towards Ashara but inside, she was thrilled to finally meet the Sword of the Morning. A young man and best friend to the Crown Prince, Arthur Dayne was already a legend. The title ‘The Sword of the Morning’ would only be bestowed upon a member of House Dayne who is deemed worthy to carry their ancestral great sword Dawn, which was supposedly forged in the heart of a fallen star and hanging from his belt she could see it sheathed.
“My lady, Ser Arthur. It is lovely to finally meet you, Brandon and Eddard have been speaking much about you” Lyanna finally spoke, attempting to make small talk.
“Oh, really now?” Lady Ashara said in a surprised tone, laughing afterwards. “Well, I am flattered, but you Lord Stark failed to mention how beautiful your sister is”
“That’s very kind of you my lady, but I’m not sure it is an accurate description-”
“Don’t be ridiculous my dear” Ashara moved closer towards Lyanna and took her hands, “you are quite the beauty and I wish you good fortune in your upcoming marriage”. Smiling at her, Lyanna could feel Lady Dayne place something small in her clenched hand. “Lord Stark, I have not had the pleasure to dance with you this evening.”
Brandon’s face flushed pink and suddenly began to take interest in the conversation, “My apologies my lady, shall we?” Offering her his arm, Lady Ashara accepted and the two walked towards the centre of the hall where the dancing was taking place. Interestingly, Ser Arthur did not leave once his sister was dancing with her eldest brother but closed the gap between himself and Lyanna, bent down and whispered extremely faintly in her ear.
“Ten minutes. Everything you need to know is in your hand.”
Lyanna looked at the legendary swordsman with a confused expression on her face as he walked towards a servant who was providing goblets of wine to the guests. She walked to the corner of the large hall where no one would disturb her, everyone surrounding her either too distracted to notice or too drunk to care and unfolded the small piece of parchment in her hand.
Upon the parchment was a sketch of a weirwood tree with a laughing face.
Chapter 5
Chapter Text
The moon was high, and darkness covered the sky as Lyanna made her way into the Godswood she had used as cover earlier that day. Since a stable boy could have possibly noticed one of the horses missing, she decided to make her way on foot using her small height to her advantage for stealth. Arriving by the heart tree, she surveyed the area for any of the king’s men who may have followed her hoping to find the elusive Knight of the Laughing Tree. The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up as she heard rustling coming from the trees and bushes behind her, turning around quickly to face what was coming towards her.
“You got my message then?” A familiar melodic voice asked as Rhaegar emerged from the trees.
“Bit on the nose” Lyanna laughed.
“Well, I needed to get your attention” Rhaegar smiled as he leaned against the large heart tree. “You look beautiful.”
Lyanna smiled and a pink colour flushed her cheeks, confirming Rhaegar’s suspicions as he too felt his heart warm. She did care for him. “What did call me here for?”
“Do I need a reason to see you?” He smiled brightly at her.
“It’s risky business, us meeting here alone.”
“I find that when I am alone with you I can be myself.” He spoke earnestly as he moved closer towards her, Lyanna becoming slightly apprehensive. “You know that you can be yourself around me too.”
She smiled slightly, “I’m starting to…” A quiet response emerged from her as she continued to close the gap between her and the dragon prince. “When do you leave for the capital?”
“Two days. After the tourney champion is announced, the royal party will leave the next day. It could be worse, but the court would prefer to get underway.” Rhaegar’s tone was melancholy, a return to normal princely duties was awaiting him in the South. “I wasn’t sure if I would be able to see you again before we leave.”
Lyanna was unsure how to respond, “Everyone would be here tomorrow evening after the tourney has won.”
“That is true, but I couldn’t wait that long.” She stood there staring at him. What could he be implying?
“Well, I’m here now”. A moment of silence passed before Lyanna continued, “So, the Daynes know about the Knight of the Laughing Tree.”
“I trust Arthur with my life, and Ashara I have known for years. They wouldn’t tell a soul.” He circled her, walking towards a denser part of the woods. “I take it I was quite clear in my note?” He said in jest.
“You’re not subtle, I’ll give you that” Lyanna laughed slightly, “The Laughing Tree sigil.”
Rhaegar turned to face her with a smile on his face, “Well only you would know.”
“Benjen and Howland would.”
“I assume you told them of what occurred?”
“Indeed. They know you helped me and honestly, they are thoroughly pissed off.” The two of them laughed for the second time again together. “Benjen in particular, ‘what were you thinking?! You could have been killed!’”
“You know I wouldn’t do that to you Lyanna” Rhaegar announced as he further closed the space between them.
There it was again. Lyanna. The way he said her name, the way his mouth moved as her name was spoken, how perfect it sounded coming from him. Lyanna was not one to be easily impressed, but something was most definitely different. “After today I know, Your Grace-”
“Rhaegar” he reminded her.
“I know, Rhaegar…” she spoke slowly. Her heart began to beat faster, and her face felt hotter as the prince took her hand in his. “Will you be jousting tomorrow?”
“Yes, but I believe I shall do better with your favour, my lady” he smirked, implying his desire.
“Do you realise how stupid that is?” Lyanna was stunned at his request, “Should my family know I am here, I would never be allowed any form of freedom again. Imagine what the others would think!”
“Well, what if I was to wear it on the inner part of my tunic? Would you give me something then?” he continued to stare at her with a smirk and a raised brow as she contemplated his question.
“What would you want? My handkerchief?” Lyanna poked at him, but the blush emerging on her face betrayed her emotions, allowing Rhaegar to know she was embarrassed and yet, flattered.
“I was thinking something a bit more intimate…” His hand caressed her face as if he was preparing to kiss her; however, he reached around to the back of her head and removed the blue ribbon holding two sections of hair together, which now fell on either side of her long face. Lyanna’s eyes remained fixated on him the entire time. “With your permission?” she nodded in response and tucked it into the left side of his tunic, right next to his heart.
“I must have lost it when I was walking”
“You must have indeed.” Lyanna could not resist anymore; she grabbed the Crown Prince’s tunic and brought his lips to hers. Rhaegar, initially shocked by Lyanna’s boldness, gladly responded, and wrapped his arms around her small waist, pulling her body against his. The kiss began gently, but as they became more comfortable and confident, the passion and intensity increased until Lyanna had to break the kiss to catch her breath. When she stared up at the prince’s face, the realisation of what she had just done hit her. “My sincerest apologies-”
“Lyanna, why are you apologising?” Rhaegar laughed slightly, astounded by her question.
“Because you are married, and I’m betrothed. I shouldn’t have acted on impulse.”
“Did I not reciprocate that kiss?”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to be rude…”
“I reciprocated the kiss because I feel a connection with you, my lady. It’s something I cannot explain, but all I know is how intensely I feel for you.” With that, Rhaegar pulled Lyanna back into their passionate embrace, holding her tightly to his chest whilst his hands explored her hair and back. Her hands were locked behind his neck, not thinking about breaking the kiss anytime soon.
The two of them spent the night holding each other in the Godswood, speaking of trivialities and Rhaegar telling stories he had read. Together, they were at peace; they did not need to play the role of prince and dutiful daughter but could be themselves. As Lyanna rested her head upon his chest Rhaegar began to sing to her, his sweet melodic voice relaxing her body into his as she could feel her eyes getting heavier. The prince’s eyes looked skyward, assessed the stars and the moon before gently shaking the she-wolf’s body: “Lyanna, wake. Unfortunately, we must be going”.
Lyanna’s eyes fluttered open to find Rhaegar directly above her, “Must we?” she asked sleepily.
He laughed a little and stroked a lock of dark brown hair out of her face before responding, “We must. If not, people will begin to wonder where we have gone”. Holding out his hands, Lyanna took them to assist in her standing up.
“Let people talk, it’s all they ever do. You should hear the things people have said about me.”
“Only good things?” He smirked slightly, knowing full well that was not the case.
“You know that is not true Rhaegar”, Lyanna nudged him jokingly. He could see that she was trying to brush it off lightly, but the hurt in her eyes betrayed her. During Rhaegar’s exploration of the tourney, he had overheard many women, including his own wife’s handmaidens, comment on ‘the she-wolf’, her wild ways and her father’s inability to keep her in check. He reached his hand to her face and pushed a piece of Lyanna’s raven hair behind one of her delicate ears, giving her a soft smile. Lyanna’s hand covered his as it lay on her cheek and kissed the palm of his hand, returning the smile. Rhaegar then took her hand in his as they leisurely strolled back to the camp, not speaking much but simply enjoying each other’s company before they would have to part ways. Just before reaching the Stark encampment, the dragon prince pulled Lyanna behind a large tree and kissed her deeply, with extreme passion in every touch. Once they broke the kiss, their bright eyes met longing for the night to continue, but it was Rhaegar who recognised their time together was up for now.
“Goodnight, my lady”, his hand lingering in hers as he moved away slowly.
“Goodnight, Your Grace”, Lyanna’s gaze not breaking with the figure of her lover as he disappeared into the night.
Chapter 6
Chapter Text
Lyanna woke the next morning to her handmaiden rushing around her tent encouraging her to rise early in preparation for the final day of the tourney. She slowly rose from her bed, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes to find her maid preparing a hot bath and her gown for the upcoming day.
“Milady, you’re awake! We need to get you ready for the day ahead” her handmaiden exclaimed. Lyanna undressed and washed, asking for her hair to be left loose. The initial objection was quickly waivered after finally expressing an interest in her appearance and her handmaiden’s happiness in hearing Lyanna’s sudden awareness of style. The grey dress hugged Lyanna’s body and upon the fabric was the Direwolf head surrounded by blue winter roses, her favourite flower showed those looking at her that she was truly a Stark that day. Whilst supporting her brother was a priority for her that day, it was also to cover any possible suspicion surrounding her and Rhaegar’s late-night indulgence. She prayed that none of Rhaegar’s servants would notice the hair ribbon she had allowed him to take from her as a favour, hoping that he concealed it well inside his tunic.
Once prepped for the day ahead, Lyanna dismissed her handmaiden for the morning and sat down at her makeshift vanity. From one of her many luggage sets, she retrieved a blank sheet of parchment as well as her ink pot and quill. Rhaegar had been bold enough to send her a message last night before their meeting and believed it was high time she responded.
Lyanna stepped out of her tent on a warm morning to see Howland waiting for her.
“Good morning my lady”
“Howland, you're more than welcome to call me Lyanna.” She laughed lightly and smiled, finding the formality between the two of them rather amusing, “you know all my secrets”.
“Well then, I am honoured my- Lyanna,” Howland stumbled over his words as the two friends headed arm-in-arm towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Crossing the courtyard and making their way into the familiar setting, the room was buzzing with excitement for the final day of the tourney with everyone discussing who would reign victorious and not the whereabouts of the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Her brothers were in high spirits, particularly Brandon who seemed to smile for most of the meal.
“Is everything alright brother?” Lyanna asked in a concerned tone.
Confused, Brandon responded, “Of course Lya, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you have not been grumpy or annoying all morning” the response elicited a chuckle from both Ned and Benjen, who both could agree that their brother’s disposition was indeed strange.
“Am I not allowed to be happy in the morning? Is there no reason for me to enjoy a good night’s sleep?”
“Well considering the perfumed scent that is radiating from you at the moment, I don’t believe sleep was on the agenda last night” Ned commented quietly to the Stark siblings as well as Howland. The younger attendees at the table looked shocked to hear of their brother’s escapades, whereas Brandon attempted to deny Ned’s accusation, but his face betrayed him.
“Bran, you’re betrothed! And you wouldn’t dare do anything to Lady Catelyn under the watch of her father!” Benjen fumbled over his words as he tried to keep his voice down, “Who was it?”
“Is she high-born?” Lyanna asked.
“Was she at the feast last night?” Howland questioned.
“Was it good?” For that question, Benjen received a slap upwards on the back of his head from his sister.
“I know who it is,” Ned said calmly. The three in the dark all looked to their quieter sibling for answers but he merely responded with, “I hope you know what you're doing Brandon” before leaving the table to converse with their father.
With the intrigue of Brandon’s escapades dissipated, Lyanna took her regular activity of people-watching. Most of the men were discussing their placed bets on the competition and who would be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty, whilst many of the women were together with their handmaidens finishing their meal. Her eyes then landed on a familiar smile and eyes that locked contact with hers; Rhaegar was sitting amongst his Kingsguard friends staring at her and smiling wryly. Lyanna could not resist smirking back whilst slyly picking up a section of her loose hair that hung around her chest and shrugging her shoulders. ‘Must have lost my ribbon’, she thought to match her actions to which Rhaegar responded with a wicked smile before leaving the table and the hall.
As Rhaegar strode towards the armoury to prepare for his final battle against Barristan Selmy, he heard a familiar melodic voice calling him.
“Your Grace!” The Lady Ashara walked briskly towards him from the doorway of the Great Hall, slightly out of breath from running in her dress so that she might catch him.
“Ashara, is all well?” Rhaegar asked in a concerned tone.
“Yes, my apologies. I needed to give you something before the match today” She handed him a piece of parchment rolled into a small tube. Rhaegar’s expression displayed his uncertainty as well as his lack of understanding of the situation. Ashara had been a close friend for many years, ever since her brother had arrived in King’s Landing to serve in the Kingsguard. She had never pulled a stunt such as this.
“The Lady of the Laughing Tree sends her regards and wishes you luck” She smiled sweetly as he took the parchment from her and began to walk back inside. Rhaegar’s face turned from one of confusion to one of surprise as he too smiled, checked his surroundings and opened the parchment to read its contents:
Your Grace,
I thank you for your gratitude, assistance, and silence on the matter of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, my house is truly appreciative and is in your debt. Whilst I hope that the lords who met the Knight’s sword in battle have taught their squires some honour, I fear that honour is not within their nature.
Howland is now making plans to visit us at Winterfell after he first returns to Greywater Watch. This situation has now brought my family a new friend and for that, I am grateful for this entire escapade. Especially since it allowed for us to meet.
I am unsure when my Lord Father will be visiting the Capital as he is busy with preparation for my brother’s forthcoming wedding, but he looks forward to consulting with the Small Council soon.
Wishing you all the best for the tourney today, I hope I bring you luck.
Yours faithfully,
Lyanna Stark
Daughter of the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North
Rhaegar’s smile grew with each line he read. His Lady of the Laughing Tree had taken the time to write to him and express her gratitude, despite their encounter last night.
Suddenly, it hit him.
This was his opportunity, his moment. Lyanna had made her feelings clear last night that she cared for him, and this letter further proved the sentiment. This was his chance to get answers about his recurring dream, to find the third head of the dragon, to be with a woman who understood him.
The huddled masses filled the seats of the jousting ground waiting for the final of the tourney to begin and find out who would be crowned their champion. Lyanna sat amongst her brothers, her father, Howland and her betrothed to witness the final joust of the day. Peering around Brandon, she saw Ser Barristan take up his lance in preparation and ride forward to cheers of the crowd. Whilst studying his armour, she heard a large rumble of applause coming from the stands and the ground where the common people were watching. Turning around quickly, her pupils dilated as she recognised the armour: the sigil of three dragons made from red rubies decorated the dragon prince’s chest as he too collected his lance. He looked every bit the fairy-tale prince as he rode his horse to the starting line with crowds of people cheering his victory. As the two men assumed their positions for the final joust, Lyanna said a silent prayer to the Old Gods to keep Rhaegar from harm and within moments, these two friends suddenly became opponents and rode full speed towards each other.
Rhaegar’s lance found its target first and struck Barristan, his body falling heavily to the ground. The thud of Barristan’s body echoed throughout the stands which signalled Rhaegar’s victory, and the crowd went wild. They cheered for their prince and future king as he rode around the arena, soaking in the noise of those he would one day rule. Lyanna remained courteous and contained when applauding Rhaegar’s win, aware of Brandon sitting next to her, but released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. When he passed her stand on his victory lap, she couldn’t help but smile and think of her ribbon sitting next to his heart in his tunic and the letter Ashara had delivered for her.
The dragon prince brought his mount to a halt in front of his father who stared down his son from his seat. As King Aerys stood up, the entire tourney fell silent. After the defiance of Duskendale, the King had become a recluse descending further into his Targaryen madness and rarely attending any public functions. His face had become withered, his fingernails overgrown to an abnormal length, and his eyes inspired fear, not leadership. To hear him speak, let alone to have the King appear at an event, was a rare sight.
“My son reigns victorious” Aerys’ voice boomed around the area as the people cheered for Rhaegar’s victory. “As his prize, he will be bestowed upon him the power to crown one woman of his choosing the Queen of Love and Beauty”. Cheers arose from around the tourney stage as the people awaited Rhaegar to crown the lady. Princess Elia Martell, along with her handmaidens, sat a box away from the King who was sitting alone with only Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Oswell Whent flanking the Protector of the Realm. For a brief moment, Lyanna could have sworn there was a strange look between the husband and wife as if an acknowledgement or understanding had passed between them.
She didn’t know what to think. It was clear that Rhaegar would have to crown his wife, after all, it was customary and the right thing to do. However, a small pain could be felt in Lyanna’s chest at the thought of Rhaegar giving Elia the crown and cursing herself for feeling jealous. ‘I shouldn’t have written that damned letter’, she thought. Nothing could come of it, nothing ever would. He was married and she was betrothed.
It took a moment before Lyanna realised that the cheers which were echoing across the tourney grounds had quietened and all but stopped. She realised that her thoughts had consumed her and suddenly, all the smiles died around her as Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne was before her, holding a crown of blue winter roses.
“My lady,” the prince spoke “I crown you the Queen of Love and Beauty” and placed the crown in Lyanna’s lap. Their eyes locked, Rhaegar’s full of honesty and passion whilst Lyanna’s simply displayed her shock. Their indiscretions were just that: discrete and private. This, however, was public. Scandalous. But she knew she had to say something.
“Thank you, my prince. I humbly accept”. Whispers could be heard throughout the stands and Lyanna didn’t have to look at Brandon to know that he was furious. He looked at the prince with such rage that his hands began to turn into fists. Recognising the fury, Ned came to his brother’s side and suggested that they leave at once. Lyanna, Howland, and Benjen rose from their seats in the stands and made their way out of the grounds with Lyanna not daring to look back.
Chapter 7
Chapter Text
“I’ll kill that son of a bitch!” Brandon shouted as the Stark children entered Lyanna’s tent. The four of them and Howland had left the tourney ground after Rhaegar presented her with the crown signalling her as the Queen of Love and Beauty, and therefore, the most beautiful woman at the tournament. A controversial decision when his wife was also in the audience.
“Brandon, you need to calm down” Ned stated in a quiet tone.
“Calm down? Are you stupid Ned? That dragon bastard has just insulted our little sister and your best friend by doing that. How can I be calm at a time like this?” Brandon paced up and down the tent, it was his usual way of working out his anger if he did not have a sword to hand.
Lyanna watched as her brothers went back and forth on the matter, and decided enough was enough. “Have you two even asked me what I think about all this?” Brandon and Ned immediately stopped trading thoughts and insults and turned their heads towards their sister.
“Lyanna, I understand that you must be hurt by the matter” Ned began but was swiftly interrupted.
“Understand? How can you understand how I am feeling if you haven’t asked me?”
“Lya, for once in your life, can you just be quiet and let us deal with this?” Brandon exclaimed, his head resting against his right palm. Lyanna's eyes widened and looked horrified at the way Brandon had spoken to her, he usually backed her up when it came to her more ‘wild’ side.
“As it ever occurred to you despite my more delicate condition, I am perfectly capable of recognising my own emotions and making decisions based on said emotions. I do not need others to make those decisions for me!”
Brandon made his way slowly towards his sister, his stature towering above him until they stood almost chest to chest. “This is bigger than your training with Benjen, this is bigger than taking on three squires with a tourney sword. This is the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms Lyanna! He’s just crowned you the Queen of Love and Beauty in front of his father, who also happens to be the King, his wife who is probably mortified at the slander, and the whole f*cking tourney!”
Lyanna did not break eye contact with her eldest brother whilst he listed all the reasons why she should be offended and terrified, but she wasn’t. Rhaegar Targaryen, the incredible and kind man she had been alone within the woods, had formally recognised her as the most beautiful woman at the tourney. She was still trying to rationalise what had happened, Lyanna would describe herself as many things: fearless, bold, and loyal. Never beautiful though. She was too plain, not feminine enough and usually seen in riding leathers. She was never truly bothered with her appearance until the night before when she knew Rhaegar would be at the feast with everyone else. He made her want to be feminine and bold. Strong and beautiful.
“Lya, are you even listening to me?” Brandon’s harsh tone snapped Lyanna’s mind back to the present moment. He was still in her personal space scolding her for not letting them deal with the situation at hand. “Do you realise what this could do for your reputation?”
“Since when have I started caring about my reputation? You hear what they call me at dinner behind our backs. Why should I care what the lords and ladies think about someone thinking I’m pretty?” Her brothers were silent for a few moments before Ned responded.
“This level of scandal could compromise your marriage with Robert. He is the Lord of Storm’s End and only the best kind of match would be appropriate for a noble of that stature. It helps that he’s in love with you.”
Lyanna turned towards her usually quiet brother, “Love is sweet, dearest Ned but it cannot change a man’s nature”.
“He is an honourable man, Lya” Brandon chimed in.
“Bran, I’m not stupid. I know all about the rumours that surround him.”
“And that’s what they are: rumours!”
“Then swear before me that Robert will be true. That he will not get distracted by another woman walking past him at a feast, that he has never broken his vow to wait for our wedding night, that he has not fostered a bastard in the Vale.” Brandon and Ned’s eyes widen at hearing the truth from Lyanna’s mouth and knowing that they could never lie to their sister. They remained silent.
“Why is he allowed to fornicate his way around Westeros and no one bats an eyelid, but for the first time in my life, someone thinks I am worthy of recognition, and it is the most outrageous thing to ever have occurred? Where is the fairness in that?”
The four Stark siblings looked at each other silently before their father entered the tent. Lord Rickard had always been the man who never raised his voice when angry, but one could tell by the look on his face. A look the siblings knew all too well and could identify at that moment.
“Are you alright, my dear?” He asked quietly to Lyanna, and she responded with a nod. “Pack your things, we leave tomorrow at first light” he commanded before leaving the tent without taking a second glance at his children.
“So, this is the one?” A soft southern voice asked as Rhaegar entered one of the Targaryen tents. In the corner sitting alone with a pot of tea was his lady wife. Elia Martell, in all her Dornish beauty, looked intrigued as she inquired as to her husband’s actions at the tourney ground. “She is an interesting choice Rhaegar…”
Rhaegar walked over and sat opposite her, pouring them both cups of tea. “She is something new Elia. Something I have not seen before.”
“How do you think she fits into all of this?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet. All I know is that when I saw her, I knew I had to talk to her. Elia, she’s the only person other than you, who doesn’t see me just as my title. She challenges me, she’s adventurous, she’s wild-.”
“And I think someone’s infatuated…” Elia took a sip of her tea, giving Rhaegar a knowing look over the edge of her cup.
His face turned to a sheepish look as he asked, “You weren’t upset by what happened back there?”
“You do keep life interesting Rhaegar” She laughed slightly as she responded. “Has your father said anything?”
“Nothing to me yet, surprisingly. These days he doesn’t say much to anyone other than himself.” Rhaegar’s face dropped, in his early years he and his father had a decent relationship. Talking and walking through the throne room and naming the dragon skulls decorating the grand hall. He’d been slightly disappointed when Rhaegar’s nose was constantly in books but as he got older, his father’s madness had become more prevalent. “Are you well Elia? How are the children?”
Elia’s face dropped before answering, “The children are well, but the Maesters have given me some news”. She was silent for a moment, “I cannot have any more children.” Rhaegar took her hand in his and squeezed. “I’m sorry, husband.”
“Elia…” Rhaegar said, attempting to comfort his closest confidante.
“I know when Aegon was born you said that there needs to be one more for the prophecy to be fulfilled. I’ve failed you.”
“No, you haven't wife.” Rhaegar stood up and walked over to Elia, never letting go of her hand and knelt in front of her. "You are good, you are kind and you are loyal. Those are qualities which are rare in this world. I have been lucky to share part of my life with you." His wife placed her other hand on top of their joined ones, took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
“If you truly care for this woman and she can bring the Song of Ice and Fire to life, then you have my blessing.” She smiled sadly, “You should be happy Rhaegar and you have a responsibility to this world. So save it.”
Chapter 8
Chapter Text
Lyanna laid on her makeshift bed, unable to find a peaceful slumber. Her mind was racing with thoughts of leaving behind the only person who had truly seen her for who she is. The thoughts of her brothers discussing honour, duty, and loyalty, all the while knowing her betrothed values none of those things when a beautiful woman is in the picture.
She had, of course, argued with her brothers before. The North may be cold, but the fire inside of a Northman keeps him warm. She and Brandon had always butted heads, but she knew that he wanted the best for her and looked out for her. This time, it felt different.
Brandon did not truly know what she was thinking or what she truly wanted. For the first time, there was someone other than her brothers who was looking out for her. Someone who cared for her. Someone who cherished her.
Lyanna’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of what she believed to be someone whispering her name. She rose from her cot, grabbed her cloak, and placed her ear to the fabric partition of her tent.
“My lady”, a bright voice cut through the darkness of the night. Recognising the voice, Lyanna opened her tent to find Ashara dressed in a dark blue cloak and holding a piece of parchment.
“Lady Ashara…” Lyanna said, surprised at her appearance in the dead of night. “What are you doing here?”
Ashara did not explain, but simply handed the piece of parchment to her and said, “Go”. Before Lyanna had a chance to ask any questions, the Lady of Starfall had vanished into the night. She stretched out the parchment, looked at the contents of the page and knew what she had to do. She donned her cloak and pulled her hood over her head to set off for the Godswood.
This would be their third meeting at this sacred place.
Three meetings.
Three dragons.
Three heads.
Rhaegar’s brain was spiralling after deciding to reach out again. His conversation with Elia was the confirmation he needed to fully pursue this. Pursue the prophecy. Pursue her.
A loud snap startled the dragon prince, and he drew his sword, ready to strike at the foe attempting to foil this meeting. At the end of said sword was the only person who did not deserve to be frightened of him. Lyanna raised her hands swiftly into the air and her eyes widened.
“Would you mind pointing that elsewhere?” she asked as Rhaegar let out a sigh of relief and placed his sword into its sheath.
“Sorry… I did not know it was you.”
“Apologies if you were expecting to meet someone else by the lake in the middle of the night. I’ll have to let Ashara know she gave the note to the wrong person” she said as she turned around and began to walk away, before feeling a hand on her wrist.
“Alright, alright” Rhaegar laughed as he spun Lyanna around to face him. Her face radiated with a cheeky grin plastered right across it. Rhaegar brought his hands to her hair and kissed that grin clean off her face. Lyanna’s arms wrapped around his strong abdomen, and she held him so tightly that she thought he would stop breathing.
When their lips finally parted, a sense of melancholia crept up on them both. They knew the implications and consequences of the day’s actions. Lyanna ran her hand through the right side of Rhaegar’s soft silver hair as he leaned into her touch. His eyes closed, savouring every moment of her warm skin against his.
“Is everything okay?” Lyanna enquired.
“As good as it can be knowing we are both leaving the safety of this place tomorrow.”
Lyanna did not want to face the reality of returning to Winterfell, especially after she argued with her brothers.
“My father stated that we have to leave at first light… to avoid any unwanted attention.”
“Lyanna, you must know that my actions were not meant to offend-”
“Then what were your intentions Rhaegar? You are so cryptic; everything with you involves sneaking around, passing messages as if they were riddles to solve. For all I know, you may get a thrill out of causing a scene. Out of making the lords and ladies of this Gods-awful realm talk.” Lyanna paused her line of questioning to breathe for a moment before quietly finishing, “Out of making maidens fall for you…”
Rhaegar’s eyes widen in shock, “You’re falling for me?”
“Out of all of everything, you focus on that bit?”
“Have I not made my feelings clear to you? Have I not proven that I am willing to risk the gossip of the nobles, even the wrath of my father himself just to see you?” Rhaegar closed the gap that Lyanna had created between them until their foreheads were inches apart. “When we are together, I cannot think straight. When we are apart, you consume my every thought. In the last few days, you are my first thought when I wake and my last before I sleep.”
Lyanna could not only hear the intensity in his voice, but she could see it in his eyes. His indigo irises darkened, and she felt as if he could see straight through her and into the very depths of her soul.
“Rhaegar…” Lyanna whispered. Her mind was racing with so many thoughts, she was trying to express her emotions, but she was overwhelmed. Where should she even begin?
Rhaegar’s right went into his left breast pocket and retrieved the blue ribbon he liberated from her hair last night. “Looks like you have become my good luck charm my lady”, he smirked as she chuckled lightly.
“I’ll have to start giving you more things, they seem to be working for you.”
“How about your time?”
Lyanna looked confused, “What do you mean?”
“Write to me.” Lyanna scoffed but then looked at the man before her who looked as serious as he did during his declaration.
“Do you know how dangerous that is? The logistics involved in ensuring we are not discovered are insane.”
“Leave all of that to me. All you need to do is watch for a raven from King’s Landing and ensure whoever deals with your father’s letters gives you the one marked with the right symbol.”
“There you go again with your mysteries.”
“All part of the charm, I assure you” Lyanna rolled her eyes as he raised her left hand to his mouth to place a kiss atop it with the dragon prince now displaying a small smirk of his own.
“What symbol is the right symbol?”
“I think you know which one” she returned his smirk as he kissed her lips gently. “Will you write to me?”
“Of course. But you must speak plainly, no more riddles.”
“Oh, but I thought you were having so much fun figuring out where to go and where to meet me.” She shoved him as he laughed at her reaction.
“I just do not want to be constantly looking over my shoulder.”
“I understand my rose, but this is Westeros. Knowledge is power and those that know more hold all the aces. Protect our hearts Lyanna.”
Their fingers interlaced; their faces moved closer together. They took in each other’s presence for many beautifully quiet moments. If they could have frozen time to stay in that moment, in that place, they would have traded anything. Reality, unfortunately, did not stop for the lovers. Time continued to tick on with minutes passing ever closer to Lyanna’s return to Winterfell and Rhaegar’s journey back to the Crownlands. Neither one of them wanted to be the one who broke their embrace.
So, they didn’t. They remained in the safety of each other’s arms until they knew dawn was fast approaching.
Only when the sun threatened to breach the land did they consider the thought of letting each other go.
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