A/N: Hello all. I know the last chapter was brutal, so this one should have more fluff, smut, and hints of future romance.

Stay safe everyone.

Enjoy and please comment :D

Chapter 26: Dragonstone Nights

The inn smelled of unwashed bodies and warm piss. Patrons downing the alcohol, scarfing down the finger food with gusto. Conversation free-flowing. "Did ya see the She-Wolf weeks ago? Beautiful lass."

"Both're beautiful."

At a meek voice referring to the Faith's prohibition on polygamy, a round of jeers followd. "Ah shut it! Prince and Princesses are mi'best."

"If I had two lasses dat pretty, I'd tell da Septon to shove it."

"To Princess Elia and Princess Lyanna!"

"To Prince Rhaegar!" an entire cheer washed over the patrons as they hoisted their drinks high. Smile tinging his face, it fell when Eddard Stark realized that Lyanna was more beloved by the people than in her own family at this point.

Unlike his sister, without a complement of guards he was an anonymous face - while a fragile ego might be put off, he was thankful. It worked to his advantage now that the walls of the Red Keep were… unreliable to keep secrets. Reaching the back of the inn unnoticed, two plainclothes men nodded to him as he opened a nondescript door. Both stalwart household guards. Amazing what five gold dragons could do to seek both the back room of the inn and the right to station one's own men from the innkeeper.

Hopefully the King doesn't have eyes here. Lord Arryn had warned him about the Spider, but undoubtedly this would be less dangerous than the Keep itself.

"You're late," his father said, rising from his chair from where he sat next to Brandon. A third figure rested further away… Prince Oberyn?

Quickly hugging both of them, Ned's eyes focused on the Dornish Prince. The man leaning back in his chair, boots resting on the table, bored. What's your angle? "Had something I needed to check on… but I'm here now."

Rickard nodded. "Good."

"What is Prince Oberyn doing here?"

"Upset to see me, Eddard?" he said cheerily, smiling while he clutched at his heart. "That truly hurts."

Stone-faced, Rickard leaned back in his seat. "The Prince and I spoke and came to an understanding… that House Stark and House Martell share a common interest at this point."

Cackling - a choice between laughter and tears - Brandon smacked his palm on the table. "Oh, certainly, father. His Grace," he spat. "Assaulted and nearly strangled to death my sister." His face grew redder. "You saw the marks on her neck!" Eyes met Ned's. "You saw the King give them to her!"

Closing his eyes, Ned inhaled. "Aye, I did." Yes, he was in control of his emotions now, but a deep rage howled like a winter blizzard just underneath the surface.

Brandon, on the other hand, was close to steam rising from his skin. "That motherfucker isn't going to get away with hurting Lyanna!" He already knew what he would say to Aerys, marching to the Iron Throne and demanding Aerys 'Come out and die!' It would go into the songs of history.

"Bran, you cannot take on the Targaryen King alone. We have no power to do so." Oberyn simply sat quietly, eyes flickering around. A dangerous enemy to have.

"We'll call the banners, champion Rhaegar's claim…"

"We will do nothing." Rickard said simply.

The heir looked upon his father incredulously, while the second son could notice Rickard holding back his emotions. "You would do nothing, father?!"

"Aye, nothing." He clenched his fists several times.

"You are wise, Lord Stark," Oberyn spoke for the first time in the conversation. "For better or for worse, House Stark is forged to the Iron Throne as House Martell is." Much as my brother doesn't think so. "If Aerys falls, we all fall to some hybrid monstrosity that I have no idea what will be."

Ned could only nod. It pained him greatly to have to let it go, but he did what he had to. Lya would understand.

"I won't stand for this!" Brandon threw up his hands in the air. "The North won't stand for its daughter being abused and battered!" Ned moved to calm him down but Brandon shook him off. "I'll run my sword through the King with my own two hands…"

Only a gurgle left him as Rickard was out of his chair in a flash. Hand wrapped around his son and heir's throat, slamming Brandon into the wall. "You will do nothing!"

Choking, gasping for breath like a frog, Brandon desperately tried to escape his father's chokehold. Far younger and fitter, but transformed into a helpless child. "Our honor… her… honor… must… avenged…"

Rickard slammed a fist into his gut. "Were you always this fucking clueless?!" His face was red with anger. Eyes wide with terror and determination. "The King will fucking kill you if you challenge him! I will half-kill you with my own bare hands than see you die, do you fucking hear me?!"

Ned recognized it all if Brandon didn't. A wolf protecting his pups.

As hotheaded as he was, when Brandon had it knocked out of his system he was the calmest person there was. "Aye…" Rickard released him, sinking to the floor in a fit of coughs.

Shaking his head, Oberyn sighed. Doran thinks these people are a danger to Elia? He hadn't yet seen a single Stark that proved the old adage 'No Stark belongs south of the Neck,' wrong. Rickard was smart but unimaginative, Ned was guileless, and Brandon… Gods, I hope that's not what I come off as. "Our families both have very thin needles to thread."

Taking his seat again, Rickard pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're stuck with our position. Too many knives perched at our back, all but a few not by our making." Robert… Tywin… Martells... maybe the Tyrells… Gods help us if Tywin finds out what I did. Ned didn't blame Lyanna for what happened with Robert, but even as they patched it up, he worried about how Robert or his Stormlanders would take the slight. "Connington is our enemy, fucking buggerer," he cursed.

"They can't dare hurt the North," Ned said, remembering the histories.

Oberyn chuckled sarcastically. "Doesn't matter. They can blockade White Harbor and starve us out… or have all of you assassinated and give the North to Roose Bolton."

Pushing himself up, gingerly holding his bruised neck, Brandon looked dejectedly at his father. "So you're saying we have to stay here? While the King could kill Lyanna?"

"Lyanna is under Rhaegar's care, and I am certain he will protect her." The Master of Laws pulled out a note from inside his leathers. "He wishes Ned and I join him on Dragonstone at the end of the week."

"Just yourself and I, father?" Ned asked.

"I'm not sure that anyone else is coming…"

"I recieved such a letter as well, Lord Stark." Oberyn shrugged his shoulders. "And I can honestly say, I'm as clueless as the three of you."

"So it seems we're not alone there, but we can be sure he doesn't trust your brother to be level-headed." Glaring again at Brandon, the older Stark child shrank back in shame. "Meanwhile, we need to cement our alliance with the other Houses. Ned, you are to escort Catelyn Tully to Winterfell from Dragonstone."

While hoping against all hope that he could stay a bit longer, Ned knew this would happen. "With Benjen coming here, I know there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, but why should Bran stay?"

"Your brother is needed with me."

"Father, if Catelyn is to go North she needs me to accompany her. Ned isn't the one she has bonded with…"

"You are in need of further experience in the game of thrones, which you obviously lack," their father shot back. "Being a Lord isn't being strong or charismatic - you need wits and restraint. I can't be there to save you from yourself forever, son." He sighed, trying to calm himself. "And Ned, I'm counting on you to hold the North and prepare Lady Catelyn for her position. If you shall be named your goodbrother's Hand one day, you must be smart as well."

Torn between duty and love, Ned knew which he would have to choose. Not all of us are lucky to have both. "I am at your service, father." Only Oberyn among them knew what he meant, but thankfully the Dornishman kept his mouth shut.

Much later, Ned walked up the rickety stairs of the inn to the second floor - having stayed behind with what he told his family was hungry… but in truth not for food. Knocking on the door of the first guestchamber, a voice bid him entry.

"You're late," Cersei said, voice only slight cross. Truth was she was worried, and elated to see him. Both her brothers would have mocked her incessantly for sneaking out of their manse to meet a suitor in such… plebeian accommodations, but truth be told Cersei didn't care. For sex that good with a man that dazzled her so, she'd go anywhere.

Ned shucked out of his fur cloak. "You're the second person to tell me that." Unlacing his leathers, he sat on the bed next to his lover "I'll have to go back to Winterfell soon."

An intake of breath from Cersei. She was under no illusions that they would not last… but it still hurt. "How soon?"

"End of the week."

Unwilling to allow her feelings to consume her, Cersei grabbed Ned. Pulling him on top of her. "Just fuck me, Stark." Make me forget…

Minutes later, as his tongue lashed at her folds while she rode his mouth, Ned did just that.


The still bright orange-red cast brilliant swirls in the sky, Lyanna's squinted eyes turned from the sun towards the Lord's Chambers of Dragonstone. Running her hand along the smooth dragonglass ore that the ancient Valyrian builders forged the colonial outpost out of. They had only arrived two hours before, but already Lyanna felt at home here.

Inside, Dacey was hanging several of her dresses in the large walk-in closet. "This place needs a feminine touch, doesn't it?"

Lyanna waved her hands. "Yes, but only a little."

The lady in waiting furrowed her brows. "Isn't it a little… dark? Imposing?"

Sitting upon the massive bed, Lyanna offered a wan smile. "Aye, but that's how it's supposed to be." Her eyes glanced at the various natural swirls in the stone. "This place, it's one of a kind. The last truly Valyrian structure left in existance, one of my new House and of the blood that my children will carry in their veins." Lyanna patted her stomach wistfully.

Dacey shrugged. "I guess we Northerners aren't ones to complain. Bear Island… I doubt there's more colors than grey, green, and brown in our keep. Maybe a bit of blue?" The girls giggled at that.

The door opened at that moment and Elia breezed in. Telling her greetings to Dacey before moving to Lyanna's side. Hands going to her neck. "Are you feeling alright, sister?"

Tensing only slightly at the touch, once she processed it was Elia's soft hands Lyanna relaxed. "They're fine… just a little tender."

"Perhaps the Maester should look at them?"

"Elia, I'm fine." The concern in her sister-wife's voice heartened her, but Lyanna was a strong woman. Fading fingertip bruises were something she could handle… "I'll see him on the morrow." She bit her lip, hesitant. Truth be told, she just needed comfort.

Recognizing the same look that had plagued her for years, Elia reached forward to embrace her sister-wife. "It will be alright, Lyanna." The two women held each other gently, silently. "Everything will be taken care of."

"How…?" Lyanna murmured. "How will any of this be fine?" Her voice trembled, worry for the future vocalized. Elia had told her of the abuse she had suffered, but never had Aerys rages towards her grown violent… till yesterday…

Before Elia could answer, they heard Dacey say, "Your Grace." She curtseyed to Rhaegar, who had just arrived. The Lord of Dragonstone looked exhausted, but supremely content in light clothes and with a bundle in his arms. Ser Arthur was behind him, causing Dacey to fluster a bit.

He smiled at Dacey. "My Lady, you may turn in now, and Ser Arthur will escort you to your chambers." Blushing further, she could only nod. Door closing behind, Rhaegar drew closer to his brides, bundle in his arms now squirming. "Egg missed his munas." He noticed how worried both looked.

The worry was put aside when they caught sight of Aegon. Lyanna was at him first, taking the babe from Rhaegar's arms and cuddling him close. Kissing the little Prince's head before handing him to Elia. "I'll put him to bed, my love," she told Rhaegar, leaning over to kiss Lyanna's cheek a friendly goodnight. Moving to do the same to her husband, Rhaegar instead pulled her to a far deeper kiss, making her moan . The Prince found Lyanna smiling softly, biting her lip. The kiss lasted a little longer because of it.

Breaking it, Elia breathed a bit heavily, forehead resting against Rhaegar's. "I love you." He whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied. "Talk to her.. about it." There was no doubt what she meant. There was no need to explain that it was to be Elia who'd sleep in his chambers tonight… after what happened, it was necessary. Babe in her arms, Elia accepted it, much as she longed to share her husband's chambers, craved it. Lucky Lyanna… She waved the thought away as she left for Aegon's nursery, cooing softly at him.

As soon as they were alone Lyanna launched herself at her husband. Arms squeezing his side closely and lips connecting with his. Doing their best to suffocate him in passionate intensity. His arms gently held her waist, matching the kiss with the same passion. "Oh, Rhaegar, I love you," she gasped, kiss broken and instead hugging him close.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you too, Lya." Squeezing her hips, he smiled down at her. "Let's get ready for bed."

The two of them began to undress silently, Rhaegar unlacing his boots while watching Lyanna drop her dress - the undershift hugging her curves so deliciously. She caught his lustful stare with a smirk. "Eyes up here, lecher."

"I'm the Prince. I can stare if I want to." Boots off, he stood to remove his tunic.

Ready to appreciate him as he did her, instead Lyanna noticed the scabbing gouges in his back, mouth opening in surprise. It hadn't been she that did that. Oh sister… you tricky bride… Laughing, she hugged Rhaegar from behind. Kissing the scabs. "Busy without me, my love?"

Now he hesitated. "Lya, I…"

"She's beautiful, and your wife - Elia deserves happiness. Why would I be upset?"

He took a deep breath, relieved. "You know I don't love you any less?" Rhaegar asked as he turned in her arms.

"Yes, I do." He was so beautiful, muscular and of an ethereal, divine coloring. Having to share him with a kind, loving, intelligent woman that was like a sister to her… Lyanna would take that arrangement gladly. "Love her, Rhaegar, she needs it."

Taking her lips with his, this time the kiss sweet and gentle, Rhaegar knew it was time to tell her. "Lyanna… I need to confess something." She looked at him with her grey eyes, unconditional love and trust in them. "I sent a raven from the ship to summon Ned and your father here, among others."

"Oh? I wasn't expecting to see him so soon but I can't say I'm not glad…"

"They will be here to discuss my plan to overthrow my father."

That was surprising. Eyes widening almost out of their sockets, Lyanna almost figured she didn't hear right. "Did… did you just say…?" Her head looked around, almost fearful the walls might spout ears.

Motioning to the bed, they sit down next to each other. Rhaegar taking each of her hands. "Lyanna, it's time. This perfidy has gone on too long."

"I won't let you be a kinslayer because of me."

Rhaegar shook his head. "With all luck, this will be bloodless." He reached out to stroke her cheek. "My love, the Kingdoms are on a knife's edge. Varys has told me more than he would ever tell my father… discontent has been brewing for years. Only my marriages and the desire of Mace Tyrell to marry into the royal family keeps things together… and even then... " He sighed. "Tywin is building up his forces, the Iron Islands are plotting again, Doran is fortifying his borders. And now with that oaf Robert…"

Lyanna turned away. "That one was my fault… I'm sorry, Rhaegar."

Two hands firmly clasped her cheeks, making her stare into his eyes. "No, my love. Do not blame yourself." Rhaegar averted his gaze. "The fault lays with me. I can't… continue living a lie."

"What lie?" She inched herself closer, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Tell me, my dragon."

"That I can be a dutiful son, but also do my duty as a Prince of the Realm…" Fighting the tempest of emotions that threatened to consume him, it took Lyanna's lips upon his jaw and neck to ground himself. "The time has come to end this nightmare, for all of us."

Regarding him in wonderment, Lyanna ran her fingers down his cheek, his chin, his chest. "You are the most amazing man, Rhaegar. My love, my Prince… my King." Not hesitating any longer, they closed the distance between them. Eager to lose themselves in each other, to bond as husband and wife.

Their lovemaking was sweet and slow that night. Rhaegar's mouth worshipping every inch of skin, Lyanna writhing in unsatiated lust. Fingers spearing in his silver hair when he pleasured her breasts - and then her core, tongue driving her to a magnificent eruption.

At her urging, Rhaegar let his beloved flip them over. Resting on his back and feeling words leave him when the gorgeous creature mounted him. Grey eyes reflecting in the final rays of dark-orange sunlight, her regarding him as one would a god… and she a goddess. "Lyanna," he gasped, feeling her sheath him inside her. Her face contorting in rapture. Gently she set a pace, one Lyanna picked up when he cupped her breasts. A rhythm kept until they exploded, him inside her and she around him. Rhaegar having pulled his beloved bride down to connect their lips as they rode their climaxes.

Feeling her husband settle behind her, a powerful arm wrapped underneath her body to tug her back flush against his muscular front. Lyanna reached to place her palm over his. Drawing it to splay over her lower belly. "I hope your seed has quickened inside me, my love." Little Jon or sweet Visenya, I pray I shall meet you soon.

Imagining Lyanna's abdomen swollen with their babe… Rhaegar's heart hitched. "So do I." Regardless of the gulf between himself and Elia, he had been crushed when Pycelle disclosed her health would preclude a successful pregnancy, yet now the gods had granted him a second chance. "And if not," he breathed hotly against her neck. "We have plenty of time to do so."

Lyanna grinned, grinding her rump into his crotch. Biting her lip as a groan left Rhaegar. Oh, the hold I have over this mighty dragon. "I hope this won't be the end of our wedding night," she purred.

"You're insatiable," was Rhaegar's answer.

"You love it," she shot back, grinding yet again.

"That I do." Dropping kisses on her bare, creamy shoulders, it was Lyanna that groaned now. "I gather you are tired?" Smirking against her skin, a hand slid to cup her bare breast.

Lyanna hissed, the Crown Prince's fingers playing with her sensitive nipple. "Did I ever say I wanted to sleep tonight?" Gone was the shy maiden. Now a sultry, demanding she-wolf in heat. Suddenly, she felt teeth sinking into her shoulder. "Biting, your Grace?"

"Aye… your fault." Rhaegar pulled Lyanna on her back. Letting his silver locks frame his face. "Irresistible and delicious you are, Lyanna Targaryen." Her eyes darkened with a sudden lust at his words. "You like that?" he grinned.

A rush of wetness filling her channel, Lyanna could only nod. "Yes." She bucked her hips, begging silently…

He rewarded her by slipping deep inside her. "Lyanna Targaryen..."


"You've been a bit glum, dear brother."

Leaning back against one of the stone columns that marked off the large promenade of Aemma's Walk, build high above the cliffs of Aegon's High Hill - protected by the lower walls, it was said that Viserys I had it constructed so that his wife Aemma Arryn could enjoy the high winds lost to her when she left the Eyrie - Jaime closed his eyes. Looking up at the orange-purple haze of sunset. "Why do I ever come to you, Tyrion?"

His little brother chuckled. "Because of my charming company, of course." Two warning eyes shot him a glare. "What? If I wasn't such a good distraction from the ails of the world, why else would my family visit me?"

"Could it be that I just want some quiet time?"

Another chuckle. "If that is what you wish, you picked the wrong person, Jaime. Uncle Kevan barely says a word to his own wife, but he's not here. Father… possible but he'd just scold you about taking the white…"

Jaime slapped his palm against the stone. "Would you please shut up?" His head pounded, making his grimace and clutch his temple.

Tyrion, never one to take advice, only peered at him. "It seems my suspicions are confirmed." He placed a gentle hand on his brother's knee. "Jaime…"

"Is this seat taken?" Nary a word was said before Cersei merely plopped down beside Tyrion, not even looking at him.

"Um… no, it's not taken," the Imp replied, though the answer was moot. "Would you like a glass of…"

He wasn't allowed to finish before Cersei grabbed the entire flagon of wine and poured herself a cup. Wasn't the first time she did that to Tyrion and wouldn't be the last. "What in gods' names are you doing here of all places?" she asked bluntly. "Jaime refused to go to the brothel, I bet."

Her twin glared at her - he was always the white knight for Tyrion growing up, holding a soft spot for his 'little brother.' Tyrion, meanwhile, only coyly sipped his wine. "Oh Cersei, I'm not a complete degenerate. A boy of five and ten out in the capitol alone? The pimps and madams would rob me blind." He reached out to pat both of them on the shoulder, Cersei surprisingly not wrenching it away. "Just the two Lannister boys enjoying a drink in the one place father would never go anymore. And now it's the three Lannister siblings doing such." Now it was his turn to eye Cersei over… her face was oddly flush. "But what brings you here?"

Cersei blinked. "Why do you ask, dwarf?"

Tyrion pursed his lips. She only calls me that when she's very mad… or hiding something… "Call it curiosity." From beside him, Jaime hauled himself into an upright sitting position, also curious.

"I was here to inform Lord Connington that we're departing on the morrow," she said, not at all convincingly.

"Hmmm, that would be fine except that father already told him this morning." Damn. "And, how would that cause your hair to be disheveled?" The normally immaculate Cersei Lannister's golden locks were hastily put together, many strands wild and out of place. Seven hells… damn him and his obsession with my hair. Cersei secretly loved how Ned would constantly run his fingers through her hair, but he was just asking for something like this. "I mean, Connington's tastes run in a different direction, so… may I presume Eddard Stark is one happy man right now?" Tyrion grinned.

"What?!" Jaime's jaw dropped. Bad mood forgotten. "Eddard Stark?" He no longer was interested in Cersei that way, but as a brother it shocked him. "You and that…"

The lioness flushed further. "Shut up, Tyrion… care to blab to Aerys next? Or father?" she hissed. "And I don't like your tone, Jaime."

Her twin raised his hands in surrender. "Didn't mean it like that, but, really? You and a second son? I mean, I told you to stop pining after Rhaegar but I didn't think you'd fancy someone father wouldn't at all accept."

Cersei was getting more annoyed. "Oh, and you're one to talk, brother." Her lips curled into a smirk. "Pining after Queen Rhaella like a lost puppy." Unlike her brothers, she kept her voice low so that only they could hear.

"Excuse me, what?!" Tyrion spat out his wine - hopefully not splattering some unlucky guard below.

"It's obvious to anyone that watches you close enough. You seem to have a fancy for taboo love, twin brother." It was her turn to enjoy herself by tormenting them. "Is it completely unrequited or are you cuckolding the King?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

There was a slight silence, the three of them just staring at the ocean - as domestic a moment between the three siblings as they ever had. "Well," Tyrion mused. "Makes my transgressions at the Lannisport brothel look positively peachy." He downed the rest of his wine. "Sorry sister, I didn't mean to pry too hard."

What she said next surprised him greatly. "Tis fine, Tyrion." She was surprised too at the… somewhat kind words. Ned is rubbing off on me. They had only been lovers for a week. "I'm not exactly planning a wedding myself - the particulars of my situation are not unknown to me." You chose a lover that can never be yours, nor he mine. The sooner she accepted it, the sooner she could move on. One last roll in the hay that day, it would have to stay with her forever.

"Nothing happened between myself and…" he trailed off. Jaime sighed. "I didn't plan on it happening, gods. Who would wish this?"

"No one who wants to keep their head," Tyrion answered. "But she's a good woman, I really can't blame you. If she outlives her husband…"

Jaime shook his head. "This is more hopeless than Cersei and Ned Stark. It would never happen… and the chance his Grace kills her first is higher than anyone would want." There was no stopping the news of Lyanna's beating at the hands of the King. It had already infected the rumor mill, probably halfway to Oldtown by now. "I am a Kingsguard. I must fulfil my oath."

"Even if she throws herself at you?" Cersei asked. "You're a dashing knight, I am certain she's thought of it, never truly meeting her notwithstanding."

"I'm certain." Jaime tried not to be fatalistic… but it was something Tywin passed to each of his children.

Tyrion chuckled dryly. "To the Lannister siblings. Gorgeous and charming, yet hopeless with the opposite sex." That was something each of them could drink to. "I think I'm going to stay here."

Cersei eyed him. "Death wish, Tyrion?"

"Your concern overwhelms me, sister, but no. I think I may apply to work for Lord Rickard, learn a proper skill. And who knows?" He grinned at Cersei. "I could put in a good word for you." Jaime actually laughed at that.

It took everything in Cersei not to shove Tyrion off the side… though part of her hoped he actually did so.


Only a crescent sliver of the moon illuminating the dark chambers, Lyanna shot up in the bed. Ears hypersensitive, head cocking to the side. Something was wrong, something big that had stirred her from here serene sleep. "Rhaegar." Lyanna nudged him gently, causing his muscular form to shift. "Rhaegar, wake up."

"Nnnngh…" her husband groaned. "Go back to sleep." He turned over and pulled the pillow over his head. Dragons weren't nocturnal creatures.

Suddenly, Lyanna heard it again. Eyes widening at what it was. "Rhaegar!" she thumped him harder, causing the Prince to thrash in the bed. "Get up!"

Thinking this was one of the drills Barristan had put him through, Rhaegar was blindly reaching for his sword before reality settled back in. "Lyanna… what's going on?!" His heart was pounding.

"It's Rhaenys." She didn't know how she knew, but Lyanna did. She was already throwing on her shift and robe, racing out of the room. Yanking up his pants, Rhaegar was hot on her heels.

Lyanna turned out to be right. As they opened the door to the hallway, the blood-curdling screams coming from the open nursery drove them further - faces twisted in fear and concern. Lyanna entered first, seeing the two nursemaids trying to comfort Rhaenys… and failing miserably. "Gods, what is this?" Rhaegar exclaimed.

Seeing their bare-chested Prince, the maids both fell to their knees. Rhaenys, on the other hand, reached out frantically for Lyanna. "Muna! Muna!"

Ignoring the maids, Lyanna raced to her daughter. Picking her up and cuddling her close. "Shhh… it's alright sweetling. Muna's here." The girl looked up at her with tear-stained cheeks before burying her face in her shoulder - sobs wracking her body. It broke Lyanna's heart. "How long has this been going on?"

Both trembled under the harsh glare of the She-Wolf. "About ten minutes or so, Princess."

"What?!" Lyanna was livid.

Rhaegar didn't blame her. "And you didn't summon me or their mothers?"

There was hesitation. "We didn't wish to disturb you, your Grace, nor Princess Rhaenys' mother and Princess Lyanna."

"The future King and Queens shouldn't concern themselves with such things," the other added.

Whether Lyanna was more infuriated at that statement or by them not referring to her as Rhaenys' mother, she didn't know. "Get. Out," she ground out.

"Your Grace…"

"You heard her, out!" thundered Rhaegar. Faced with the dragon, they both scurried out. Rage fading, he found his bride and their daughter, Lyanna softly cooing and rubbing Rhaenys' back. Rhaegar embraced the both of them as she still sobbed. "Oh, my little dragon…"

"Kepa?" murmured Rhaenys between sobs.

He kissed the crown of her head. "Yes, little dragon, it's me."

"Don't go!" she wailed. "Bad men come back!" His eyes found Lyanna's, both confused.

At that moment Elia appeared in the door. Dressed only in a wrinkled shift. "I heard screaming… Rhaenys!"

The young Princess even more forcefully reached out for her birth mother. "Muna, muna!" Taking a step aside, Rhaegar allowed Elia to envelop their daughter with Lyanna, Elia kissing her head over and over while the northern beauty kept rubbing her back. "Bad dweam… Bad men hurt me."

Elia wore heartbreak on her face. "Who were these men?"

"They big and mean. Hurt Egg, then you, muna, then big knife…" She sobbed harder. "Monster made them."

"Monster?" asked Lyanna, close to tears herself. Rhaegar had taken a seat across from them, head in his hands.

She nodded strenuously. "Black shadow… like a dwagon, but fwire green…" Rhaenys dissolved into her cries.

"Aerys?" Lyanna asked her sister-wife in a whisper.

The Dornish Princess nodded. "Green fire. He's known for experimenting with wildfire… the others I don't know." Elia pressed her cheek to Rhaenys' raven curls. The presence of her natural mother finally calming her.

"It's my fault." Rhaegar stood, hugging the three of them tightly. "I'm so sorry, my loves."

While his words only hurt his wives further, it was Rhaenys who spoke first. "Kepa… don't go…" Rhaegar settled in, the four of them simply swaying gently and letting Rhaenys' cries lessen.

But when they tried to set her back into her crib, Rhaenys refused to let go of Lyanna. "Sweetling…" She couldn't let the poor girl be so hurt. "Would you like to sleep with muna and kepa tonight?" Rhaenys nodded vigorously.

The royals made their way out of the nursery. "Please take care of her, tonight, sister," Elia said, thinking Rhaenys would want to sleep with only Lyanna, like on the boat.

Only Rhaenys had other plans. "Muna!" she shrieked as her presence faded. "No go!" She wriggled so much that Lyanna was afraid she'd drop her. The mere thought of being without her natural mother was terrifying. Lyanna wasn't in danger. That she knew. "Pwese! Muna!"

"Little dragon, muna needs to sleep..." Rhaegar explained but was cut off.

"No go!" There was no placating her. "Stay wif' kepa and muna."

Both women blushed bright red, Rhaegar rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Well… we can't really refuse her, can we?" the Prince said.

Eyes shifting from Rhaenys, to each other, to Rhaegar, and back to each other, Lyanna shrugged as Elia deflated. "Alright, sweetling." She merely murmured and snuggled deeper into Lyanna.

To say it was awkward would be an understatement. The bed, once holding Aegon the Conqueror and his wives, was more than big enough for the four of them - but space wasn't the issue. After snuggling with her kepa, Rhaenys demanded to be placed between both Lyanna and Elia. Soon drifting off to sleep without even a whimper, her father joined soon after.

Lyanna and Elia faced each other. "I wonder if this is how Maegor's first three brides felt," Lyanna said softly.

"I don't think they slept in the same bed," Elia whispered. "The conquering trio did though…" she trailed off, both women knowing that sleeping wasn't the only thing those three did.

"How does a woman… do that?" Lyanna asked hesitantly. Her knowledge of matters sexual was… quite limited. Relegated to her books and observing Brandon with various smallfolk women.

This caused Elia's blush to redden, visible even in the low moonlight. "Ellaria says… they mostly use finger and tongue" Foreplay for Rhaegar - who was quite excellent at it - but the main event in the case of two women. "It works for some. My great aunt, she only had female lovers..." Elia bit her lip, trailing off.

An action mirrored by Lyanna. "I don't think I could do without a man, though."

"Me neither." As if bidden, Rhaegar turned over, a hand wrapping around Lyanna's waist. "He loves you."

Lyanna reached over to stroke Elia's cheek. A sisterly gesture - but one that caused a tingle in her hand… and core. "He loves you too." She gave a ghost of a smirk. "I, uh, heard you on the boat."

Elia's eyes widened. Oh gods… "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you're happy, sister." They were both silent for a moment. "We both love him, and I can't bear us to feud."

Elia shook her head. "It would kill the family." Perhaps we should all sleep here… "Alright, alternate nights. You once, then me the next day."

"A sensible compromise, though miss him I will." Lyanna yawned in spite of herself. "Goodnight, sister."

"Goodnight." Letting sleep take a hold of them, neither noticed that their hands clasped together before they drifted off.

A/N: Well... there was some really awkward sexual tension, lol. A start of something big? ;)

Rhaenys in the last chapter wasn't pushing Elia away. She just wanted to know that Lyanna was alright... therefore what happened tonight.

Was fun writing the Lannister siblings having a... normal conversation for once. All of them. Ned is good for Cersei, it appears.

Next up, Rhaegar invites the conspirators to Dragonstone, and a plan forms. If I can get 35 reviews by Saturday then I'll update then :D