Accidently deleted this chapter, sorry.
A/N: Hey everyone. Hope y'all are staying safe.
Announcement: next Tuesday is the anniversary of the final episode of GoT. Yep, fuck it, but I want to let all y'all know that I will be publishing a short story called "The Mystery Knight" set in the world of "An Empire of Ice and Fire" to commemorate the black day with some quality content with our favorite characters. Keep your eyes peeled for it!
Enjoy and please comment :D
Chapter 33: O'er the Hills and Far Away
While most in their household were irritated at having to leave the quiet serenity of Dragonstone for the Red Keep - and the smell of Flea Bottom emerging from the city itself - one violet-eyed little dragon was the most vocal about it. "Muna, why we no stay at Dwagonstone?"
Lyanna reached down to ruffle her midnight curls. "Oh Rhae, kepa and munas are the Prince and Princesses of the Seven Kingdoms. We must work out of the capitol." While her and the babe would rather stay in Dragonstone, she was looking forward to the updates on her project with Elia.
"Why no work on Dwagonstone. Ravens there." No one could say Rhaenys wasn't a bright child. "King Landing smell like phew!" As if by design, the tabby cat clutched in her arms hacked. "See, even Balawion hates smell. Blech."
While both her mothers laughed, they were drowned out by Rhaenys' squeal when an imposing armored figure lifted her on his shoulders while the cat screeched and fell out of her arms. "Come now, daughter," Rhaegar boomed, beaming at her giggles and the adoration of his wives. "Are you not a dragon of House Targaryen?"
She tangled her tiny fingers in his silver hair. "I am a dwagon, kepa!"
"Are dragons all as adorable as you?" Elia snickered, rocking a rather active Aegon.
Watching her cat scamper around, Rhaenys wriggled. "Put me down."
"I don't know, wife," Rhaegar grinned. "Such adorableness is dangerous, so perhaps I should chain her in the dragonpit?"
"Kepa!"
"Rhaegar," both Princesses scolded, biting back laughs.
"I could get the chains now, your Grace," chuckled Benjen, earning a withering glare from the tiny Princess… which only made her look more adorable.
"Ser Arthur, what do you think?"
Silent, some distance behind them, the Sword of the Morning looked at his Prince with worn, sunken eyes. "I think the Princess should be alright," he said flatly.
With a sigh at the sullen Arthur, Rhaegar put his daughter down. Who ran over to scoop up her cat.
As such, she ran into someone. "Grandmother!"
The light returned to Rhaella's life as the rest of her beloved family was back with her. "Come here, little dragon." Warmly embracing the child, she still opened her arms for her son. "Rhaegar."
The Prince smiled. "Muna." They embraced tightly. "Thank the gods you're here with me again."
"I'll always be here for my sweetling," she cooed, kissing his cheek. Even when he took his throne, to Rhaella he'd always be the little boy with the silver curls that ran around the Red Keep pretending to be Caraxes. "You said in your raven that you wished to speak with me?"
He nodded. "Later, muna. I have something to take care of." Not that he wished to speak with Melisandre, nor that Connington hadn't been at the docks to welcome them. "Please help my brides get settled."
"Of course, son." She could tell he was hiding something, but let it go with another kiss on the cheek. "Be careful."
"How is my goodbrother?" Lyanna asked as they all sat in the Queen's solar. What ravens Rhaella had sent to Dragonstone were… not encouraging.
"Viserys… he's improved. Still determined to please his father, so he's committing more to his studies and early training. I worry he's setting himself up for another big fall, but he loves Rhaenys so she being around may improve his mood." Rhaella really wanted to speak about something happy. "So," the Queen smiled, hands on her knees. "How was Dragonstone?"
Rhaenys piped up. "Muna give me big brudder!"
Rhaella raised an eyebrow, seeing Lyanna whiten slightly. "And why is that Rhae?"
"Little brudder in muna belly" She walked over and kissed her stomach. "Hi wittle brudder."
Lyanna ruffled her dark curls. It was impossible to hide. "Now sweetling, it could be a little sister."
The Queen's eyes widened. "Really?"
This wasn't how she wanted to disclose it, but Lyanna bit her lip - nodding. Elia held back a laugh at her daughter and sister-wife.
The widest smile spread on Rhaella's face. "Oh Lyanna!" She leaned in and embraced her gooddaughter tightly. "I'm so happy for you!"
Lyanna beamed as well. "Thank you Rhaella, I'm very happy as well."
Even as she spoke, Lyanna could sense there was something… off about her goodmother. While the Queen handled an impossible duty with poise and stoicism, there was a sadness about her indescribable. It only seemed worse now. "Rhaenys sweetling. Why don't you go play with Belarion in the gardens. Benjen, go watch her."
Her brother bowed, which a smirk made it less respectful and more teasing. "Come on, Princess." The girl happily followed her newest uncle.
"Rhaella?" Lyanna said once her daughter was gone, reaching out to touch her knee. "Is everything alright… with you?"
She hesitated. "Yes. Why?"
A shared look with Elia, who nodded imperceptibly. "Goodmother, there's no need to lie to us. Please."
Her wall simply vanished, beautiful Valyrian features marred with stress and melancholy. "If his Grace had his way, yours wouldn't be the only new babe in the Red Keep."
Dread began to fill the stomachs of the Princesses. "His grace wants another child?"
"At least one daughter... for Viserys."
Both Lyanna and Elia embraced their goodmother "Oh Rhaella, I'd love to see a little you running around, but what Aerys must have been doing to you…" It was obvious to them that she didn't necessarily consent to this. "I'm so sorry." Each knew what the King was capable of.
"Nothing has happened so far... he's been locked in his rooms obsessing over the dragon eggs."
"Thanks the old gods and new" Elia breathed.
Tears welled behind the Queen's lids. "I don't think I could survive another failed pregnancy..."
Their hearts broke in two. Rhaegar already told both about all the miscarriages, stillbirths, and dead infants Rhaella experienced - how each one only broke his mother further and fueled Aerys' increasing paranoia. "All will be fine, goodmother." Elia knew the fear from when she carried Aegon.
"I think any one of yours will make it," Lyanna murmured. "Perhaps my babe and yours were destined to be companions."
"My guess is that when Rhaegar finds out," Elia laughs. "He's going to try and betroth both girls to Egg."
"Targaryens and Starks, the continuation of the Pact of Ice and Fire." The thought made the Queen smile. Allowing her perfect gooddaughters in for another embrace.
Angry, dark clouds marred the sky above the muddy roads of the Kingswood… and Jon Connington loved it. Removing his hood so that the rain could pelt his face and hair, smile bright.
"Ah, I love being home!" Gods, he hadn't seen Griffin's Roost in years, beautiful on the hillsides overlooking the sea, surrounded by fields of wildflowers. When all is done, I shall return. Perhaps bring Rhaegar with me. Connington longed to show Rhaegar his home… especially his bed…
He spotted the low light just beyond the bend in the road. The inn was a large one, several buildings including sleeping quarters, a barn for horses, and a tavern currently bright with activity. "O'er 'ere, ser!" called a large stablehand as Connington pulled his steed in. "Ow 'ong ya want?"
"One night," he said. "Be quick about it." He dropped a gold dragon in the man's hand.
"Right away, mi'Lord!"
He was soon immersed in a cloud of smoke and heat from the toasty hearths. Dozens of unwashed bodies packed close together, downing roast meat, stews, and sour wine. Connington wrinkled his nose but pushed through.
"Mi'Lord." He found the form of one of his loyal bannermen. "The two of 'em are in the back. Private table."
Connington's eyebrow rose. "Two?" At the man's nod, he shrugged and made his way towards the private table, confused.
This inn clearly received a lot of more clandestine business. Turning a corner into the private area, Connington was delayed by a rough-looking guard, the barest patch of a stag sigil covered by a cloak. "That's him, Cole." The Hand stiffened. Stannis…
Face tight as leather, there was no warmth in Stannis Baratheon - blue eyes a bitterly cold ice as they regarded Connington. "Ser Stannis, I was expecting your older brother." Yet, a second man… no, a boy sat at Stannis' left. Lean and lithe, lustrous curls fell to his shoulders. Almost a younger and more… gentle version of Robert. His face reddened slightly at Connington, looking away. Interesting...
"He's indisposed," Stannis grunted. Cock deep in some whore, I suspect. "I brought my brother Renly." Ah, Renly. He had grown since Connington was last in Storm's End. There was something about him… something the Hand couldn't quite place. "Let's begin."
"Yes, let's begin." He took his seat, taking the cup of wine. A sweet Arbor gold. "An opportunity has come to the attention of the Crown… one where House Baratheon can prove its loyalty."
Stannis' scowl only deepened, but it was Renly that cut in. "We proved our loyalty when our parents died!" A sharp glare from Connington caused him to sink back in his seat, embarrassed. What in seven hells?
His brother cuffed him on the back of the head. "Enough, Renly." Stannis shrugged. "My brother is an idiot.." Renly glowered, eyes flickering to the Lord Hand. Smoldering eyes… "But he bears true. Why should we have to prove our loyalty?"
Why couldn't Robert have been here? The idiot would have already been drunk and completely suggestable. Yet there was promise in Renly… What makes you tick, little Lord…? "Shadowy forces will threaten the Crown. Many heads will soon roll, ones whose positions can be filled by loyal houses. Namely yours." Connington leaned forward, red hair and beard matted to his skin, laying on the charm. A test. "The opportunity for those of House Baratheon to know the halls of power… quite intimately." The last word came out with a smack of the lips.
Dour Stannis couldn't spot flirting if a whore sat naked upon his cock, but the youngest Baratheon practically blushed crimson. Shifting in his seat as if readjusting his pants. Ah… he's one of us, then… Oh, this just got a lot easier. Little Renly didn't have the same pull as Robert would, but Connington's control over him could be even stronger.
"What would you have us do, Connington?" Stannis crossed his arms. "I am not my brother, and I will not let this House go off half-cocked." Eyes locked with Renly's, Connington suppressed a grin when he saw the boy lick his lips.
The next hour found several flagons of wine shared, most by the Baratheons as Connington paced himself, casually discussing various matters that were not of consequence. It became apparent early on that he had them at supporting whatever side he was on, and that they could convince Robert to side with wildlings if he asked them to. No, by now the objective was getting Stannis to stumble out, leaving Connington alone with the young stag - increasingly brazen in the looks of desire he shot his way.
"Fuck all of this, I'm going to sleep," Stannis said after a while. "Don't disturb me, runt, or I'll knock your teeth out." He stormed off, leaving Connington alone with Renly.
The four-and-ten nameday old managed to realize through his drunkenness that he was alone with the most attractive man he had ever seen. "Looks like it's just us… Little Stag." Renly didn't know what to think or say… the voice so… elegant.
Jon Connington was more disgusted by every passing minute. No one could compare to his beloved Silver Prince, and the boorish behavior of the strength-obsessed Baratheons led him to despise the family. Still, duty pushed him forward - not to mention he hadn't laid with a man in a long while, and Renly was a gorgeous thing objectively speaking.
"... glad you allowed me to stand in on something so important…" Renly stammered, not knowing that Connington didn't hear anything of it.
Once again, he decided to cut to the chase. "Tell me, have you ever been with a man?"
His eyes widened into saucers. "What… what are you talking about?" Renly replied, trying to remain calm.
Jon Connington had seduced many men, and this was one of his easier ones. "You don't have to hide it, Lord Renly." He leaned forward, taking the young man's hand in his. "You try to deny it, but I could tell from the moment I saw you that you had such a predilection."
His heart beat out of his chest. "No, I don't," Renly stammered frantically. "I swear!" How had his secret gotten out? He had been so careful. How does the Hand know?!
Before Renly could run off, Connington stilled him with a gentle hand on his upper thigh. Watching the young man stiffen, then relax. Savoring the touch. "It's perfectly natural. It is a predilection I share." He allowed himself a grin when Renly stared at him, jaw dropped. "So I'll ask you again, have you ever been with a man?"
Renly hung his head. "Never." He hadn't once trusted any man enough to act on his desires.
"Perhaps we can rectify that situation?"
Renly was still frozen as Connington stepped in front of him, standing only inches apart. "But my brother…" Is this really happening?
"Just let go, Little Stag." Connington's lips were a mere inch away from Renly's. Just one moment from breaking him. "Give me the honor of being your first.."
Gods, this was happening… this fire-kissed god was offering him his bed. "I… want to know what it feels like."
Connington cupped his soon-to-be lover's cheeks and kissed him. Renly melted, never wanting it to stop...
Inconspicuously, hoods over their heads and several paces apart, Connington led the younger man out of the still boisterous tavern and to the inn building across the way. Unlocking and shutting the door to his rented room behind him. It was a medium-sized chamber, spartan but clean - Connington didn't waste time. He picked up the quiet Renly and shoved him down on the bed. Enjoying how desperately eager the young man was - it wasn't Rhaegar, but there was no way he wouldn't take advantage.
"Please… don't make me wait…"
And Connington didn't. As aroused as he was, this would be done quick and dirty. He was in a ravenous mood. "This might hurt a bit."
"I've been waiting for this for so long now, my Lord!" What Renly felt next, he couldn't describe. It caused him pain, but at the same time pleasure - somewhat close to a burn… a good one, that is.
"Ah…" Connington grunted. "So good, Little Stag." In reality, the older man was thinking about Rhaegar, his Silver Prince. Elia and Lyanna, the whores didn't deserve him. Rhaegar was made for me and no one else.
For the rest of the assignment, Connington took his frustrations and hate for the Queens on the young man. Taking what he wanted over and over… and Renly loved it. Feeling every dream of his life come true. "Please, Jon," he moaned. "More. More… I love you!" How could it be anything but love?
"Would you do anything for me, Renly?"
"Yessss…" he moaned.
"I could have you brought to the Red Keep as my sworn sword…"
"Please…"
"If you do what I want. Do whatever I ask."
"I will! Gods, I will!"
Perfect.
Dearest Cat,
Do not fret about the boorishness of the Northerners. It is not their fault that they were denied the blessings of the Seven. It is your responsibility to show them the way of the Seven-Pointed Star. Faith will show you the way in these dark times.
Ned seems like his head is on straight, given he was raised by Jon Arryn in the noble tradition of the Vale. But be careful, Cat. It is always the quiet ones to watch out for.
Stay safe and pious, Cat.
Petyr
Clutching the letter to her chest, Catelyn sighed. Remembering her happy times at home in Riverrun, the dances and feasts. Walking the banks of the Trident with Petyr, Lysa, and Edmure while wearing pretty summer dresses hand stitched by her - dreaming of the handsome Lord that would sweep her off her feet. Such had truly happened with Brandon...
Shivering, she wrapped her cloak tighter around her slender frame. Curse this dreadful place. There was no life in Winterfell - just drab and ugly. Oh, how she longed for Bran to arrive and bring life back here with his glittering smile and magnetic personality.
A knock on the door startled her. "Come in."
It was Dirk, one of her guards from Riverrun. "My Lady, Lord Stark wishes to speak with you in his solar."
She sighed. Ned was no Brandon, but at least he was polite and courteous. One had to be when raised by the great Jon Arryn of the Vale. The windowless corridors were a massive contrast to the airy, lighted halls of Riverrun. Catelyn was happy that Ned used her own guards to escort her about the keep. The Stark guards always eyed her in the wrong way. Thank the Gods I haven't seen that hulking, simple oaf since the first day.
"Lord Glover thinks his lookouts saw scouting ships close by Deepwood Motte," Catelyn heard from inside the solar. "But he can't be sure."
"How many ships do you have, Jorah?"
"Two dozen, my Lord. Not much but stout sailing galleys as good as anything those salt fuckers have."
"Good. Better keep watch off Flint's Finger. They'll probably attack there…"
Impatient, Catelyn opened the door herself to find Ned, Jorah Mormont, and Howland Reed crowded around a map. "Lord Stark, you summoned me?" she asked, curtseying.
If Ned was annoyed at her interruption, he hid it. "Ah, Catelyn. My Lords, if you will?"
Each nodding, Jorah and Howland made their exit. Catelyn's nose wrinkled as the slight Crannogman passed her. Gods, have these swamp people ever heard of perfume? But alone with her goodbrother, she approached and sat in the chair he offered for her. "What would you like of me, Ned?"
Ned wanted to like Catelyn Tully. Bran had affections for her - not hard to see why, with her fair face and fire-kissed hair - and she adored him… but Rhaegar's personal concerns about her suitability as Lady of Winterfell just couldn't leave him. "Yes, I just had some concerns to share with you."
"What concerns?" she asked.
"I see that you have been increasingly making your mark within the keep."
A look of joy came on her face. "I believe my efforts are brightening this rather drab place, Ned."
He nodded, smiling tightly. "Um… the directives to expand the baths and bathe more regularly are ones I approve of," he said, starting with the good things.
"Less filth, less vapors, I believe," Catelyn replied. Men and women in Riverrun weren't always clean, but never as filthy as here.
Ned didn't know how to broach the rest, so he decided to be gentle but blunt. "Five guardsmen were flogged at your orders earlier this week."
She smiled proudly. "They were engaged in a dice game."
"I doubt that playing dice deserves a flogging."
"Gambling is a sin against the gods. It must be punished or else perfidy will spread."
Oh hells… "Two well-liked maids from the household staff were demoted and placed on milking duty… I talked to the senior maid, and she told me you directed Septa Mordane to see it done."
A frown formed on Catelyn's face. "Those maids were baseborn."
"They were kind and industrious workers - completely loyal."
"Loyal?" Catelyn scoffed. "Bastards are wanton and treacherous by nature." She waved her hand. "Best let them handle the cows and pigs where they belong."
Clenching his teeth, Ned had enough. The little things he could take, but this was just unconscionable. "You will personally see that they are restored to their former positions."
"Why? I am looking out for our House…"
"No, Catelyn. You are acting against my House."
"All this for two bastards, born in sin?"
"It is not their fault they were born, Catelyn."
Another scoff. "You were raised by Jon Arryn and in the Light of the Seven. I would think you know better."
He slammed his fist on the table, making her jump. "We are not in the south! We do not worship the Seven and it's time you learned that!" He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I didn't want to do this, but you forced my hand. No directive you make is binding unless confirmed by me."
"Brandon won't stand for this!" She balled her fists. "He's a cultured man, not like the rest of you!"
You're in for a shock. But it wasn't his place to say. "Bring it up with him when he gets here. Until then, get out of my sight."
Who does Ned Stark think he is?! Her anger was still hot as she stormed back to her chamber. One of theirs marries the Crown Prince and they think themselves gods beyond reproach.
"Brandon," she murmured to herself, alone in the drafty hallways bare of anything beautiful. "Why can't you be here? You'd understand." While of the North, he was the perfect southern noble during their courtship. A ray of light and warmth in this dark, freezing land…
In her rush to return to her quarters, Catelyn didn't look where she was going and almost tripped over someone. "Gods…" she hissed. "Watch where… Lord Bolton."
Tall and gangly, the Lord of the Dreadfort bore a tiny smile and mild-mannered expression. "Lady Stark," he bowed. "Forgive me, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."
Catelyn couldn't help but smile in return, grateful for such courtly manners. "No… the fault is mine, Lord Bolton. And I am not Lady Stark yet."
"Nonsense," he repeated. "You are the betrothed of my Liege Lord's heir. As far as I am concerned you are Lady Stark and deserving of the utmost respect."
She blushed, further flattered. "Well, thank you, Lord Bolton." The man was kind and respectful in a plain leather jerkin and pink fur cloak, a far cry of the sadistic monsters that her goodfamily dubbed them as.
Voice small and soft, he saw the innately irritated Catelyn Tully further disarmed. "May I say something, Lady Stark?"
"You may."
"I appreciate all you are bringing to this place." The Leech Lord's tone had nary a hitch as he lied, smiling inwardly as the Trout lapped it all up. "We have been isolated for far too long…"
Catelyn brightened. "I know… the North had no reason to isolate itself from the rest of Westeros after Aegon's Conquest. Even Aegon accepted the teachings of the Seven-Pointed Star, yet the North failed to accept the blessings of the Father and Mother."
"A little culture and we could see the North rise to new heights," Roose said. "I shall seek to foster my future heir in the south just as Lord Stark did with his… perhaps at Riverrun?"
"I'm sure my father would be honored. I certainly am."
Roose smiled. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, my Lady. House Bolton put aside its enmity with House Stark centuries ago."
She curtseyed. "I shall remember it. Good day, Lord Bolton."
Watching as Catelyn disappeared around the corner, Roose walked back to his chambers. Chuckling the entire way. "Oh ancestors, you tried so many times to destroy the Starks." A rare grin touched his face. "Now, that glorified septa will do it for us."
Dearest brother,
My eyes seemed to deceive me for a moment, reading what you told me. The Sword of the Morning himself having fathered a child with a northern lady? I'll have to meet this Dacey Mormont myself and see just who broke the incorruptible Ser Arthur Dayne.
Dressed down to his tunic and trousers, Arthur sighed in reading Ashara's letter. Ash… she's always been blunt. Part of him was glad to read it though - Oswell and Gerold were… prone to make levity of his situation, and he was not comfortable asking for Rhaegar's advice. He hated to have the disapproval of his father cast down upon him, so Ashara was the logical choice. There was no one he trusted more in the world than his little sister.
Sitting upon his bed, Arthur began reading the rest of the letter.
I'm sorry if I sound too scathing. In all honesty this could be the woman who truly has your heart, and if that is the case then there would be no one happier than me. Seeing you with a highborn beauty who loves you deeply is what I would hope you to have. Unless you have grown soft and decadent in the capitol, that's what I believe has happened.
But fathering a bastard under your oaths? Falling into bed with anyone outside of marriage given your white cloak… oh Arthur, I know how this must destroy you inside. Even if you love her this is a serious matter. You are no ordinary knight, but the Sword of the Morning. Noble throughout the Seven Kingdoms. To have this on your shoulders can only be the worst of situations.
She did have a knack for digesting the situation to the base problem. Head pounding, Arthur felt the urge to end it all. To cleanse himself of his dishonor in a noble death… but that babe was his. Dacey was his love… Rhaegar needed him. That would be the worst dishonor.
Your friend the Crown Prince would legitimize that babe in a heartbeat, but you need to look inside yourself. Do you have the stones to recognize a bastard child? To keep that white cloak even with that knowledge? Any man can hold themselves to honor, but only the greatest can be honorable even in the greatest of dishonors. To act with chivalry and inner strength when a lesser man would resort to sin and debasement.
I cannot tell you your path. Only you can chase it.
Love,
Ash
Arthur fell back onto the bed - cold and small without Dacey beside him… yet that was what he deserved as a Kingsguard. Trading title and family for honor and immortality. As with the flawed of the past, Arthur had joined them.
My oath or my babe? My oath or my love?
Sleep would not come easy to him that night.
Lyanna Targaryen immediately stood when her husband walked in, dressed down in a simple tunic and breeches. Without delay she rushed to him, kissing him sweetly. "Hello, husband."
"Mmm, my warrior Queen." Rhaegar rested his forehead on hers, already relaxing with her close by. "I'm so glad to be with you, my love." The only thing that would be better was if Elia was here with them… every time he was with one, he felt a yearning for the other on top of it all. Was it the Valyrian dragonrider in him? The will of the gods? Regardless, Rhaegar felt no ounce of guilt for loving them both.
"Mmmm," Lyanna smirked. "Is little Rhaegar happy to see me?"
The Prince blushed. "Of course I am." His hands dropped to grope her buxom breasts.
She lolled her head to the side… No, not yet. "Wait husband… there's something I have to tell you." Lyanna bit her lip. "It's just… I'm… you and I…" Her hands drifted absentmindedly to her belly.
Seeing her stumble about with her words was quite adorable and funny. "Are you trying to refer to our little dragonwolf?" he asked with a tiny grin.
Lyanna was taken aback for a moment… only to place her hands on her hips. "Did you know all this time?"
"I overheard you speaking to Benjen and Barristan in the training yard."
"Seven bloody hells" Lyanna cursed, stomping her feet. I wanted it to be a surprise!
Chuckling, Rhaegar walked towards his bride until she was in his arms. Cursing streak silenced as she looked up at him. Tension gone, merely reflecting love. "I don't think this is a time to be upset, my love."
She broke out into a wide grin. "We're having a babe," she murmured.
"Our babe." Without a care in the world, Rhaegar picked Lyanna up, twirling her around as he had done with Elia all those years ago when she told him about little Rhae in her womb - a move that surprised her at the time, but looking back it was the moment he realized he loved her. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!" Now, Rhaegar enjoyed the moment yet again.
Lyanna laughed merrily, held so lovingly. This was her dream… only the dreams couldn't compare to reality. None of the Kings and Princes in her childhood tales able to match the beauty and heart of her own Dragon Prince. "Rhaegar…" she murmured as he put her down, nuzzling his nose with hers.
He placed his hands on her slim, toned hips. One slowly sliding along the sheer nightgown to rest above her still flat stomach – the one that would soon swell with their child. "How long?"
"The maester says a moon and a half..." Lyanna looped her arms around his neck. "Our wedding night, my handsome dragon."
"I love you so much, Lya." The Prince's voice cracked with emotion. "I love you," he repeated.
"I love you too." Lyanna cupped his cheek. "Kiss me."
Complying eagerly, his lips met hers. Tongues lovingly stroking together in a sensual dance - she moaned in his mouth, Rhaegar pulling her flush against him. Needed to be close, to not let him and one bit of this perfect woman to be apart.
Love and warmth turned quickly into a frantic, heated lust. Need a building pressure inside Lyanna. Her hands moved to tug at his laces just as his pulled the nightgown off her body. Both bare, Lyanna's fingers tangling into the silver locks that were part of her wet dreams. "Fuck me," she hissed against his lips, feeling Rhaegar's hard cock against her hip. "I need you, Rhaegar."
Now bare chested, Rhaegar growled - taking control. Backing Lyanna up until her knees hit the bed. "So beautiful, muna," he husked as they fell upon the sheets, moving to kiss and suck at her muscular neck. Such a vision, toned and powerful. Rhaegar lusting over the ropey column as he had Elia's soft, slender skin earlier that day. Gods… thinking of his other bride only furthered his lust… with a growl, he took a bulbous breast in his hand and suckled the nipple.
Oh fuck… A flood of wetness coated the muscled leg that Lyanna was grinding against. "Yes… kepa. Fuck muna." The thought of carrying their babe was not only joyous, but arousing as well. "I'm so wet for you."
Eyes darkening, Rhaegar fell to his knees and started the Lord's Kiss. Licking along the creamy skin of her thighs, a pale milk.. "You taste wonderful."
She writhed on the bed, one hand scratching down his scalp while the other fisted the sheets. His tongue swiping through Lyanna's folds with a frenzied intensity that drove her to the edges of madness. "Don't… stop… please…"
"Dōrī, ñuha zokla." He smirked at her, mouth drenched in her juices. "Ao sagon ñuhon."
Lyanna screamed, his tongue pushed deep into her cunt and fingers caressing her nub. Fuck… fuck… fuck… "Ooooooh!" She shattered powerfully, Rhaegar lapping it all up. "My dragon…" she murmured.
He chuckled. "Done?"
"Fuck no." Without wasting a single moment she urged him up, mewling happily as her lips met his once more. Lyanna wrapped her legs around his hips as Rhaegar pinned her arms up above her. Groaning when he sucked her breasts.
Rhaegar laved Lyanna's nipples till she whimpered, weakly trying to push his head into the fleshy mounds. "You're mine, Lyanna."
The Princess shuddered as Rhaegar licked up to her neck. "All yours, my Prince."
Without warning, the Prince flipped her onto her stomach. Pulling up until she was on her knees - a hand pressing Lyanna's head onto one of the pillows and sticking her ass in the air. Folds slick with juices. "I need to be inside you," he said.
Gods, there was no limit on how this man turned her on. "I need you inside me." Moaning when his cock began to poke at her entrance. "Now, my dragon. Now, kepa. Fuck me. Fuck me!"
He thrust hard, her cunt hot and tight around him. "Seven Hells, Lya…"
"Oh Gods!" Her walls melded around his cock, Lyanna biting her lip. "Faster!"
Sweat slicked bodies crashed together, hips smacking as Rhaegar held nothing back. "Kessa, gūrogon ziry Lya!" Valyrian words tumbled out, a moan leaving his wild northern bride. "Gūrogon ñuha orvorta!"
Lyanna adored it when he spoke Valyrian. "Please fuck me harder!" she wailed, a hand kneading a dangling breast.
"Beg," he demanded.
"Fuck please!" She tried to rock back into him, desperate. "I need your cock deeper! I need it! I FUCKING NEED IT!" She screamed when he grabbed at her dark brown locks, pulling it back as he began fucking her madly. Yes… that's it… use me, Rhaegar… Lyanna surrendered to the only man she would ever love.
"Nuhon!" he hissed in Valyrian. "Ñuha zokla!" Thrust. "Ñuha zokla!" Thrust. "ÑUHA ZOKLA!"
"Yours!" she screamed. "I'm your fucking wolf!"
Just as he let go of her hair, Lyanna buried her face in the pillow as she literally shattered around him. Feeling his seed shoot deep inside her.
"Lya!"
Later, Rhaegar pressed a kiss on his bride's bare shoulder. Watching in reverence as she hummed in her sleep. "I love you, my wolf," he murmured, deftly sneaking out of bed and donning a thick robe. Finding the hidden tunnel in his chambers and sneaking through to his favorite place to…
"I knew you'd be here."
Rhaegar stopped, finding the midnight locks and twinkling brown eyes of his Dornish Princess. "Elia…"
Smiling softly, she patted the chair beside him, embracing him tightly. Lips searching out his. "Gods, I missed you."
"I always miss you, my love." Four years without her… How had he endured it? "I'm going to be a kepa again."
"You are, husband." A new little dragon, a sibling for their children. Elia was truly happy. "I honestly hope its a boy."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that?"
She bit her lip. "Been thinking about it. I'd love a mix of you and Lya, but handsome like his father. One that can join Egg in being just like the man I love."
Brooding slightly, Rhaegar looked down. "There are far better men than they can take after." But he found his chin brought to look in the honey-brown eyes of his wife.
"There are none better." A gentle kiss followed. "Strong, noble, smart, powerful, and a man that brings joy to the lives of both of his Princesses. What more could I want in sons?"
"They'd both have to wed two," Rhaegar laughed. "Though I suppose the precedent is set. Rhaenys perhaps, or one of the Starks Brandon or Ned will ultimately have."
Or Rhaella's future child, if she has one. Any son of theirs would be lucky to marry a Stark or mini-Rhaella, though better a child of Ned's than Brandon's. Ned is smarter. "So, you're going to compose a song, aren't you?"
"I've actually already got one." He picked up his harp and smiled at her. "Would you…?"
He didn't need to continue. "Yes." Wordlessly, she snuggled into his side - pressing her lithe body into his as Rhaegar strummed the chords.
"Duncan met with Jenny fair
"In these hallowed halls that day;
"But the Prince right now is fu' of care
"Since these Princesses staw his heart away."
"Altho' she seemed too gu'd be true
"She proven has, a price'ss find
"Which drives the Prince aften rue
"That he'd loos'd a maiden kind."
Elia leaned up to look at Rhaegar, seeing his bright violet eyes watching her as he sang the words. Priceless find… Maiden kind. Lip quivering, she moved to kiss his jaw, filled with love for this man.
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"The let no'un drive my love astray."
"I love you," Elia murmured. Hugging him as he sang. "I always loved you, Rhaegar." She had almost lost him to the ravages of indifference, but wouldn't make that mistake ever again. I'll never let you go.
Lyanna was right. His voice could make the birds stop and listen.
"Since she is fause whom I adore
"I'll never trust a woman more;
"Frae a' their charms I'll fade away
"So fer' them my pipes I'll sweetly play,"
Alone in his chambers, the King paced about. Mind on his eggs, their stubbornness to hatch. "I am the dragon," he mumbled. It had to be some vile spirit - some malignant vapor that stopped them from hatching for him.
"Duncan met with Jenny fair
"In these hallowed halls that day;
"But the Prince right now is fu' of care
"Since these Princesses staw his heart away."
Aeys stopped in his tracks. Melody faint in his ears, but two words loud and blaring. Jenny… Duncan…
"Dunk?!" he shouted, turning around. Eyes wide. "Jenny, you whore? Where are you?!" He kept looking, kept searching… finding not a trace yet the song wouldn't stop.
"She will destroy you…" A voice! The voice at Duskendale, the one that followed him whenever the Darklyn bitch would torture him. It was back, guiding him through the chaos. "Jenny… she is reborn…"
Why? Why must Jenny torture him so? Why did he need the voice to calm him? "Leave me alone you bitch!"
"She carries the False Dragon. You must destroy her."
He fell to his knees, clutching his head as if in pain. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"Tis o'er the hills and far away
"The let no'un drive my love astray."
As the young lovers lost themselves in their passion - clothes slowly stripped and the Princess pinned against the wall, moaning as the Prince fucked her hard - a King raged in his chambers. Silent screams lost to the haunted halls of the Red Keep… sight of the blood of Targaryens young and old.
Blood that would soon be joined by that newly spilled.
A/N: That was sweet at the end... and a bit ominous...
The song is Over the hills and far away. Thanks to Patriot-112 for telling me about it.
Arthur heeding good advice, while Catelyn is spurning good advice.
And Connington now has an ally in House Baratheon... that can't end well (remember, I've aged Renly up to be 4 years younger than Stannis). Thanks to Nielsen1984 for helping me with the scene.
Picked tentative actors and actresses for some characters:
Rhaegar- Sam Caflin
Elia- Aiysha Hart for current Elia and Leonor Varela for older Elia.
Lyanna- Katie McGrath for current Lyanna and Eva Green for older Lyanna.
Ned- Same as show
Cersei- Emma Watson for young Cersei (only the great Lena Headey can play the older Cersei)
Rickard- Viggo Mortenson
Aerys- Peter Capaldi
Jon Arryn- Michael Caine
Jon Connington- Tony Curran
Ashara Dayne- Adelaide Kane
It helps with visualization. All other characters are still open, so any ideas?
Next chapter, some massive drama.
Question for everyone: given that the point of divergence here has basically changed the fates of many characters (Cersei being the most obvious in both fate and personality), what characters would you most like to see have their fates changed. (the core personalities will stay the same, but all else is fair game).
