A/N: to Hisan: I actually keep a small notebook where I have most of my (wicked) plots written out. It helps some. But my memory is rather good anyway. Generally, when i look at a title of my works, the plots comes to me even if I don't use the notes I have. But for longer stories, it's quite useful.

I'm glad you liked the chapter. :)

i. If anyone wondered at the sight of a Kingsguard followed by a mother and her babes, they knew better than to stare too long or whisper within his hearing. The scant protection was a blessing of sorts, Lyanna considered.

"His Grace participates at the Small Concil's meeting," Ser Arthur let her know. "I shall speak to him." In the meantime, she was to wait in Rhaegar's private chambers. "No will disturb you." That was another blessing. Lyanna wondered when the roof would collapse though.

She was however much too tired to give it deep consideration and the girl had started whimpering again, the boy following her example.

ii. Rhaegar shifted in his seat impatiently, waiting for the old Grand Maester to be done. The Seven knew that nothing of sense left the man's mouth. Why the King tolerated such fools on his council, the Prince would never know. He was, however, obliged to listen to them and form opinions on their words.

Thankfully, Pycelle's little speech came at an end and with it the meeting. Rhaegar had other concerns to deal with beside the fact that winter had come again. The summer had been much too short. On that they could all agree. But such was the caprice of the weather.

iii. "What do you mean there is no word?" the Prince questioned, eyes focusing on the Spider. "Do you mean to tell me that all your little birds cannot find one woman?"

Varys licked his lips, hands folded before him. "Your Grace, Lady Stark has vanished. Some claim that she's been stolen. Other say that she is buried somewhere. No one knows for sure."

"I do not wish to hear your excuses." The decidedly angry edge to Rhaegar's tone produced a cautious look from the eunuch. "Find her." He turned on his heel and left the man standing there, staring in his wake.

iv. Arthur had known Rhaegar since they were both boys. They could read one another fairly well, so it came as no surprise that in an instant, the prince was aware that some sort of news awaited him. "Go on, Dayne," said Rhaegar, trying to chase from his mind the worries of the day.

"She's here." It was the words, the undefined. She. She, who? There was only one she that preoccupied Rhaegar. He gave an inquisitive look towards his friend. Arthur merely nodded. "I took her to your rooms."

Rhaegar forced himself to walk faster down the dimly lit hall.

v. The small figure jumped as he entered the room. Rhaegar could only stare in stupefied wonder at the familiar face peering at him. Instinctively he took a step forward and she took one back, though the distance between them should have neutralised any threat.

Fists clenched at his side, Rhaegar froze in his place. He recognised that stance. His mother would sometimes draw herself thus at the King's approach. Holding one hand forward, Rhaegar struggled to hold Lyanna's gaze. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Rhaegar half feared the word would be lost in the distance between them.

vi. That was all it took, the sound of his voice, something reassuring, for Lyanna to sprint into his arms, her frame knocking into his. He fingers clenched in the velvet of his clothing and she shook and trembled in his hold. He heard the sounds of her distress – but they seemed to come from far away.

Rhaegar brushed her short hair absently. One of his arms locked around her middle to support her. His eyes went to the two small bundles that had started fussing. He pressed a kiss to the top of Lyanna's head. She hadn't grown since he'd last seen her.

vii. "What have they done to you?" The question burst forth past his lip just as Lyanna handed him his daughter. Rhaegar hadn't been looking at Lyanna when he spoke, but her long silence prompted his attention to shift on her.

She was fingering her shredded hair, holding the boy close to her bosom. "What they would have done to any other woman."

"Lyanna, tell me." The request seemed not to reach her. "Tell me."

"Why?" She slipped the kirtle down her shoulder and down still so that she could feed the child.

The fading bruises made him gnash his teeth together. "They won't ever touch you again."

viii. Pycelle's usual slowness seemed to annoy him more than it did on better days. Rhaegar would have called any other Maester but him, yet no other would do. Slow as he was, Pycelle did know his craft. Lyanna was sitting near the crib, still holding the boy.

"She is tired, is all," the old man spoke. "It was the dust on the road and the cold. But rest and nourishment should see her through."

Rhaegar touched Lyanna's shoulder softly, encouragingly. Pycelle departed the room quietly. "The King should be here presently."

"The King does not worry me," Lyanna replied, her hand coming to rest over his.

xi. Aerys stepped into the room followed closely by his wife. Rhaella Targaryen was a statue of marble next to her miserably looking spouse. Despite her earlier words, Lyanna felt not at all at ease with the man's eyes on her and the children.

"A nice tangle you've made for yourself, boy," the King spoke, the derision in his voice clear. He looked Lyanna up and down, as if to assess her. A cruel smile curved his lips. Lyanna lowered her gaze. "Do you want to keep her?"

Lyanna blushed hotly at being treated as some object.

"She stays," Rhaegar answered.

"Very well. I am not the cruel father." The pronouncement made Lyanna shudder.

x. Elia grimaced at him, her lips twisting in dismay. "You act as if I might hurt her."

"You speak as if you wouldn't," Rhaegar countered, standing before the door. "This does not concern you."

"It concerns me. It concerns me when you decide to shame me before all of the realm." Her dark eyes sparked with defiance and she made to move past him. Rhaegar simply caught her arm.

"I haven't the mind to make a spectacle of this. You shouldn't either." She wrenched her arm out of his hold.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Elia cocked her head slightly. "You cannot protect her from everything and everyone."