Chapter 6

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's 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 wavered 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 chuckled 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 and surprised to hear of their brother's escapades, and whilst Brandon attempted to deny Ned's accusation, 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 at 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 sat 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 prior to 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 are 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 lord'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 road 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 sat next to her, but released a breath she did not know she was holding. When he passed her stand on his victory lap, she couldn't help but smile and think of her ribbon placed 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 attended any public functions. His face had become withered and gaunt, his fingernails overgrown to an abnormal length, and his eyes inspired fear, not leadership. To have the King appear at an event, let alone hear him speak, 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 the Ser Oswell Whent flanking the Protector of the Realm. For a brief moment, Lyanna could have sworn there was an 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 cursed 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 left 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.