Chapter 2: Dear Princess

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Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

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"We were going to get married…" Lyanna's voice trailed off, almost wistfully as she sat on Daenerys' bed. She had waited for Lady Stark to come out of her meeting with her father so they could talk alone.

"I know. He told me." Daenerys reached for the woman's hand and held it. "It would have been the wedding of the century. The two kindest people I know together – you two were perfect."

This brought a small, sad smile to Lyanna's face, "I know the King never approved of him and I, but he was surprisingly nice to me. About the house and title and everything."

Daenerys nodded. She had been stunned when Lyanna told her about her talk with the Queen. Lyanna was going to move into one of the smaller residencies behind Kensington Palace and her title was to change from Lady of Norfolk to Duchess of Sussex, an honor Rhaegar wanted for her as a last wish. Her brother had it scribbled down in a notebook found among his possessions at the military base camp, along with the note about Captain Mormont moving to Daenerys' service. The only other object found was a small, black jewelry box, containing an engagement ring for Lyanna that Rhaegar had been carrying around with him as a reminder of his future with her. King Aerys gave Lyanna the ring and Daenerys was mesmerized by the sparkle of it on her finger. She knew her friend would never take it off. For an instant, a flash of selfishness ran through her and she wished her brother had left her something tangible as well. All he bequeathed to her was the service of a man she barely knew. It only took a second to push the jealousy from her mind.

"We'll be living so close to one another. We were almost to be family. There isn't any reason why we can't remain nearly as such," Daenerys didn't have many friends besides her best friend from Uni, Missi. She looked up to Lyanna like the older sister she never had.

"Agreed." Lyanna smiled, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. "It is odd though, about Rhaegar wanting Captain Mormont to be your private secretary. A high honor for him, of course – being an advisor to a Prince and now a Princess – but still odd for him to make it a special request, something so important to him that he needed to write it down in case…"

Daenerys fell back onto the plush pillows, wiping her eyes. Both of them knew how Lyanna's sentence ended. "He was always looking out for me. Maybe this is his way of making sure he can when he's not around. Captain Mormont is trained military, ex MI6, and has more medals of valor than I can count. It's why he was brought on for my brother in the first place."

"Yes, but not to protect him…that was Jamie Lannister's job – and the poor man got his right side practically blown off for it, poor thing. Mormont's just an advisor." Lyanna corrected.

"Not just," Daenerys couldn't pinpoint why she was suddenly defensive of him. "I just haven't had an equerry before since I was away at Uni. Just Grey. I wouldn't even know what to do with him."

"Or to him." Lyanna giggled, wiping away tears as well. It put her in a better mood to feel like she was just having a normal girl chat with Dany, like they often used to. It gave her something other than the heartbreak to focus on for a moment.

"Shush!" Daenerys playfully swatted at Lyanna, shocked that she would even insinuate such a thing. "We've exchanged a maximum of seven words, and I am certainly not interested."

"Which is fine and many will be grateful for – I noticed my niece staring at him, so you would have competition anyway," Lyanna rolled over so she faced Daenerys, "And besides – I know my brother isn't just here to mourn Rhaegar. Him and Cat didn't care about him like I do. He brought the whole bloody family down here to start marrying them off to you and Viserys."

"Of course he did," Dany groaned. Thank God Bran and Rickon were too young – that just left Robb and Jon., "It has to be me then, right? I wouldn't wish a lifetime of hell with Viserys on Arya or Sansa."

"You'd be surprised. My youngest niece has no interest in men and no want for power – but Sansa is a different story. I know we both view Viserys differently, but with things how they are now - he's going to be the King of England one day." Lyanna could barely stomach the thought and sighed, looking at Dany's beautiful naturally platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "I think you all are much too young – at your age I would never be ready for such a thing. But it's all Ned talked about on the way down here – how you or Viserys need to start making babies and give England something to be happy about."

"That's a bunch of shite…"

"Why do you think your father just gave you Kensington and Viserys full reign of the palace? You need your separate spaces for separate families," Lyanna finished her point and closed her eyes, feeling the deep sadness overtake her again.

"Fuck." Daenerys knew it was completely un-princess-like, but she knew Lyanna was dead on with her assumptions and she certainly didn't need to be set up for marriage during the funeral services of her beloved brother by her father or some other entitled nobles. The gall of some people.

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"Your Grace," Lord Robb Stark inclined his head towards Daenerys as he approached her with two glasses of wine, handing one to her.

"Lord Stark, thank you for coming," Daenerys said politely and took a tiny sip of the wine. She normally never drank wine, preferring Guinness or whiskey, like her brother. Lyanna had eventually coaxed her out of her bedroom after their talk and made her rejoin the wake. It had gone late into the afternoon and was almost evening now, but still everyone stayed. They would serve a formal dinner soon and no one wanted to miss that under any circumstances. The dry wine choked her and Daenerys regretted venturing out into the fray almost instantly.

"I'm really sorry about your brother… I can't imagine…" he continued. It was hard for Daenerys to be around him, let alone look at him. The same age as Rhaegar, it just didn't seem fair that her brother's life was cut short and there Robb was, vibrant and healthy and happy. But she forced herself to meet his gaze, his dark brown eyes warm and sincere in his condolences and his thick, curly brown hair endearingly unruly.

Daenerys found the Stark boys all very genuine considering they were some of the most eligible bachelors in all of England, not to mention fit and handsome on top of it all. Robb especially, but Jon was too – in a quieter way.

"Thank you, Robb. It means a lot that your family came all this way," she thanked him and meant it, eyes darting over to see Duchess Catelyn watching the pair of them like a hawk. "I know you and Rhaegar got on well at Uni. He told me about your times playing football and drinking on the roof of your dormitory. He cared about you."

"Aye, he was a good man, Rhaegar. I just wish I had seen him more. Life - it just gets in the way sometimes." Robb's northern accented voice cracked a bit and he shrugged his shoulders in a guilty way while Daenerys nodded. It still felt so foreign that they were all here, sharing stories about him and he was just…gone.

"For what it's worth, I think you look very beautiful today…" Robb said and it came out awkwardly, almost as if his mother had told him to make sure he fit it into the conversation one way or another. Daenerys couldn't deny that maybe in another moment there would be attraction between them, but it just wasn't the time or the place, and the wine was making her light-headed. Her eyes scanned the room for an exit strategy but came up empty-handed. What she did see with her idiot brother on the far side of the Picture Gallery, drunk and hitting unsuccessfully on Lady Margaery Tyrell, who was miles out of his league. To her credit, she seemed to be humoring him. From what Daenerys knew of Margaery, she liked attention and the position of future Queen consort certainly came with quite a lot of it.

Where the hell is his wrangler? Daenerys thought of pale Melisandre, his quirky equerry. The whole point of her was to prevent incidents like this. It made her heart ache for Rhaegar even more seeing the new future King of England act like a fool.

"I'm on it, Princess." A light touch to the back of her arm and a low voice in her ear and then Captain Mormont began gracefully making his way across the room, as if nothing was wrong, to get to Viserys. Lady Margaery looked grateful for the excuse to leave as Jorah took the drink away from Viserys and whispered something in his ear. Her brother straightened up and fixed his jacket. She was both impressed and a little frightened – Viserys usually didn't listen to anyone on the first go-around.

"Daenerys?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, what were you saying?" Her attention snapped back to Robb, who was none the wiser that anything out of the ordinary was going on.

"That you look lovely…" he tried in earnest again. She wanted to roll her eyes and say 'It's a bloody wake Robb. For my brother', but she thought of Rhaegar and her mother. If Viserys couldn't be a good representative of the Crown, she needed to be.

"I'm very flattered. Thank you. But I'm afraid I must say a few more 'hello's' before dinner" she gave him a smile and excused herself. One awkward conversation down, only fifty more to go…

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"You are handling yourself remarkably well, Princess, unlike your brother…" Prime Minister Tyrion Lannister finished his third glass of red wine and set the empty crystal down, where one of the servers refilled it within seconds.

Daenerys thanked him and inwardly agreed. Tyrion was blunt, but she supposed it was the main reason he and her father got on so well with one another – having spent an hour together each week for four years during Tyrion's tenure so far. She admired that he didn't mince words, and was generally pleasant to be around, considering he usually sat next to her at dinners like this. The Prime Minister's place is to the left of the Princess, with the King to her right and a guest of honor to his right. Tonight it was Eddard Stark, the highest-ranking Duke in the room based on province. The next space would have been reserved for Rhaegar, but now Viserys sat in her brother's chair.

"Thank you. I won't deny its one of the most difficult days of my life." The general din around the long table, filled with over fifty guests, made vulnerable conversations rather easy to have.

"Oh, I'm sure, your Grace. I'd be surprised if it wasn't," he looked up at her and gestured his glass toward her before taking a sip. He was a very short man – his eye level just below hers and she was small in frame as well, but his dynamic personality made him one of England's most beloved PM's in a long while. "Although the circumstances are hideous, I will say I love these dinners. Watching everyone… the entertainment can't be beat. Look…"

He nodded to their right, across the table and diagonal from them, "Those two…half in love with you already."

Dany followed Tyrion's gaze and met Robb and Jon Stark's, who both quickly averted their eyes back to the soup course in front of them. Tyrion chuckled.

"They are sweet…" Daenerys said diplomatically, although knowing they were both looking at her made her blush.

"Sweet is…one way of putting it," Tyrion continued. "Princess, the incredible thing about you is that you are constantly considering yourself adjacent to the royal family when you are the only daughter of King Aerys. Especially now, I am sorry to say, you are going to become the center of attention. You are twenty-one and too beautiful for your own good. Prepare yourself for it now and don't say I didn't warn you."

Daenerys almost choked on the bisque. There was that bluntness again.

"And there…" he continued on as he hadn't just dealt her a large dose of reality, "My sister, bored out of her mind with her slovenly husband. My God."

Daenerys took a discreet glance towards the other end of the table, where Duchess Cersei Baratheon was barely picking at her food, looking like she had lost her appetite. It didn't matter – the Duke, Robert, was shoveling enough bread for both of them into his body faster than anyone she had ever seen. Their children sat quietly to her left, except for the oldest, Joffrey if she remembered correctly, was whinging about something.

"She hates him, did you know that?" Tyrion washed down his words with another sip of wine, "Most of the people in this room hate each other. Beyond myself and Lady Lyanna, I would venture to guess not many outside of your family and the royal staff felt the way we did about Rhaegar. Not many of them have a caring bone in their body to be sure."

"Your brother cared for Rhaegar, certainly…"

"Oh of course," Tyrion looked over at Captain Lannister, struggling to eat with one hand and still look composed while doing so. "He's the exception, not the rule. It pains me to say it but positions of power often show you who you can really trust. Ahh.. chicken…delightful."

The conversation paused as they were served the main course, the servers standing behind them, waiting at attention, all removed their soup bowls and replaced them with delicately roasted chicken and carrots in unison.

"We should discuss it, your Grace. It's been a moot point for so long now, but certainly circumstances have changed."

As she cut into her chicken, Daenerys overheard Lord Eddard's conversation with her father just to the right of her.

"Not now Ned. Tomorrow. The day after, but by God not now."

"And who is little Lady Sansa Stark looking at, I wonder…" Tyrion was back to people watching, his running commentary drawing Daenerys back in and making her forget about the exchange happening next to her. She found the red-head and followed her gaze across the table to Captain Mormont, who was deep in conversation with Grey to his left. Tyrion and Daenerys both met eyes with Sansa, who showed no embarrassment at being caught out. "Your new Private Secretary, I see."

"What do you know about him?" Daenerys ventured. Everyone seemed very interested in him, especially Lady Stark. She felt a bit bad that she had never properly gotten to know him, even though he had been with Rhaegar as his private secretary for ten years, since he was her age.

"Oh, lots, dear Princess," Tyrion smiled at her, "I know lots about a lot of people. That's why I'm Prime Minister, now isn't it?"