The war was over and Rhaegar had won. Lady Lyanna Stark, or rather Princess Lyanna Stark since Rhaegar had taken her as his second wife for months, had been locked away in a tower for her own safety and that of the child growing in her womb who would be the Prince of Promise, though Rhaegar was convinced it would be a girl since a seer had confirmed the importance of Princess Visenya and predicted that her next child would be a girl. In fact, the Seer had also warned Rhaegar to be careful, as his choices and obsession with prophecy could have seriously jeopardized the fate of his dynasty.
Months after learning the consequences of her choices, most notably the deaths of her father and older brother, Lyanna realized how foolish she had been to fall for Rhaegar's beauty. She had no interest in becoming queen, as far as she was concerned Elia could be the only queen, and she had no interest in her son becoming king one day, although she would be a hypocrite not to admit that deep down she did not like the idea, and could she be blamed for that? In any case, she knew she would always be the second wife, the one whose foolish elopement with a man already married and yet married to another had been one of the causes of a civil war that had devastated the realm and nearly brought about the end of the Targaryen dynasty that had ruled the realm for three hundred years.
Through it all, she had known untold pain as her child had been born dead. She had held the little dark-haired body, which seemed to have taken more from her than her husband, to her breast and wept. She had never really wanted to marry and be a mother, but she also loved Rhaegar and her child, and she was sure that she could have been a good mother if only she had been able to. At that moment, as she held the cold, pale body of her child, she wondered: what about Visenya? Was she not supposed to be a girl, and most importantly, was she not supposed to be alive?
Lyanna Stark would never forget the day she learned that Princess Elia Martell had died after giving birth to her third child. A daughter the princess had named Nymeria, but whose name her husband had quickly changed to Visenya.
Rhaegar was simply thrilled with his beautiful and perfect little girl Visenya, and Lyanna had to try and put on a brave face, while inside she was grieving beyond measure, and the handmaidens of her husband's princess wife, especially Dyana Sand, looked at her with contempt, probably thinking her suffering was her just punishment.
Queen Rhaella was more sympathetic; although she was not at all enthusiastic about her union with Rhaegar, she felt sorry for her and was sympathetic to her, partly because she knew her pain well and seemed sincere when she wished her to have a child soon, and Lyanna thought that perhaps in time they would learn to love each other, or at least her mother-in-law would accept her.
Princess Elia's handmaidens and Queen Rhaella were not the only people she had to win over. The poor princess had been much loved by the people, and they blamed her for her death. Elia had died in childbirth after Rhaella was forced to allow the midwife to cut her womb open with a knife because they could not turn the baby. The death of Rhaegar's first wife had been a misfortune for which Rhaegar and Lyanna were not to blame, it had been the will of the gods, and yet the people blamed them for what had happened, claiming that the princess had died of a broken heart. Absurd. Yes, Elia must have suffered, but it was certainly not because of a broken heart that the child did not turn in her womb.
Not to mention that her and Rhaegar's stupidity and selfishness ultimately provoked a war that devastated the realm. The thought that Robert Baratheon had defied Rhaegar and fought against him because he was convinced the prince had kidnapped her... The thought that she had been the cause of his death, as well as those of her siblings and her father, the guilt of their deaths and who knows how many others would haunt her for the rest of her life, and the relatives of those dead would likely hold a grudge against her and Rhaegar for the rest of their lives.
Several days had passed since Lyanna and Rhaegar returned to the capital. King Aerys Targaryen had died on the same day his son returned triumphant after winning the war. According to Rhaegar, his father had believed that if he ingested Wildfire, a highly flammable green liquid, he would become a dragon and destroy all their enemies, but the result had been only a very painful death.
To be fair, there had been no shortage of people suggesting that Prince Rhaegar had killed his father, after all, no one but them had been present in the king's sun when he made the mad decision that led to his death, but given the king's madness, all the people he had harmed, including his own wife, and those he had killed, could Rhaegar really be blamed for deciding that the Mad King's reign had gone on long enough? No, of course not, and yet it seemed that people were just being judgmental. Lyanna didn't know if the rumors were true or not, and she didn't care, she just thought people should be happy that Aerys was dead.
Rhaegar's coronation was to take place in a month's time and on the same day she would be crowned, and the thought of taking the title that should have been Elia's made her feel deeply uncomfortable. She had told her husband this, but he had replied that she was as entitled to the title as Elia would have been, and then, after a quick kiss, he had left, leaving her to her torment.
The Dornish princess lay in a bed. There was blood everywhere and the stench haunted the room. Elia was screaming and begging. Lyanna sat on a chair beside the bed, staring helplessly at the other woman, when suddenly the midwife drew a knife. Frightened and sensing what was about to happen, Lyanna rose from the chair and tried to stop the woman from cutting Elia's belly, but then Rhaegar appeared. Until that moment she had been unaware of his presence.
"Rhaegar, no. There must be another way." She said in a pleading, desperate tone. He pulled her away from the bed.
"This child's life is important." He said in a cold tone. Both Lyanna and Elia screamed as the knife sliced into the Dornish princess' belly.
She jerked awake. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt as if she could still hear Elia's screams and smell the blood. After a few seconds she realized that someone was crying. It was coming from behind the right wall of her bedroom, which was next to Rhaegar's.
Visenya. She thought, aware that in the direction the crying was coming from was the nursery where Rhaegar's three children were at that moment. Without thinking, the Stark got out of bed, picked up the robe on the chair next to the bed and quickly put it on as she left the room.
"Queen Lyanna, it is late, you should rest." Said the member of the Kingsguard who stood guard outside her room that night.
"One of the children is crying." She replied. The man did not flinch.
"The nurse will take care of it, don't worry." He said after staring at her for a moment in silence. Judging by the tone of her voice and the expression on her face, he was surprised that she was worried about the children, and moreover, would other stepmothers in her place have rushed to see if they heard one of their stepchildren crying? If so, it was possible that some mothers would not have done so either; they would have simply ignored the crying and gone back to sleep, scolding the nurse if she did not make their child stop crying.
"Did Princess Elia let the wet nurses soothe her children when they cried?" She asked. The man did not answer, indeed there was no need for him to, and Lyanna went to the nursery.
When she opened the door she saw the nurse holding the newborn. The woman was standing by the cradle. A servant girl was tending to Prince Aegon, who was also crying, and the wolf wondered which of the two babies had started crying first, or had they started at the same time?
"Queen Lyanna, forgive me, but I cannot make her stop crying." Said the nurse. It was instinct that guided Lyanna as she approached the woman without thinking and held out her hands. The other stared at her in confusion.
"Give her to me." The wolf said in a firm tone. The nurse seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then handed her the newborn: it was the first time Lyanna had held her, and she instinctively clutched her to her chest and began to rock her gently. "What is it Princess, did you have a bad dream? I just had one too." She said softly as she began to sing a lullaby that she remembered Old Nan used to sing to her when she was little. Truth be told, she had never had a gift for singing, nor had she ever had any interest in learning, but within a short time the newborn calmed down and was almost asleep when her stepmother heard the voice that belonged to her other stepdaughter.
"Don't touch my sister. Put her down!" the girl cried, staring at him with dark eyes identical to her sister's. Visenya's hair, however, was as light as her brother's and her father's, unlike Rhaenys', which was as dark as her mother's, from whom she had also inherited olive skin. In fact, while Rhaenys was identical in appearance to her mother, looking more like a Martell than a Targaryen, her sibling looked nothing like her mother and was instead a miniature version of her father. Princess Visenya had inherited the typical Targaryen hair color and dark eyes of a Martell, and Lyanna loved the contrast between the light hair and dark eyes.
"Your sister was crying and I calmed her." She replied in a soft tone. The little girl had a look of resentment on her face, much like Dyana Sand, one of the handmaids and her mother's cousin. Lyanna knew that the child must be sad about her mother's death, her brother fortunately did not seem to realize that his mother was dead, but his sister was old enough to realize that her mother was dead and that she could no longer kiss her and hug her and do all the things that mothers did to show affection to their children, and in Rhaenys' eyes her father's new wife must have been nothing more than an intruder and it was also possible that she had heard people, especially her mother's handmaids and her grandmother, say that her father had abandoned her, and her mother to run away with her, so it was no surprise that Rhaenys hated her.
"You must not touch her. Get away!" She shouted angrily and kicked her in the leg, taking her completely by surprise, and what a kick! It was true that she was tiny, but she was strong. The wolf moaned in pain and the newborn began to cry again. "Put my sister down!" Rhaenys screamed and seemed to throw herself at her, but the servant girl who had returned Aegon to his cradle grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from her stepmother. The little girl began to flail about, trying to free herself.
"Princess Rhaenys, calm down." Said the servant girl. It took the girl a few seconds to calm down, or so it seemed. When the maid let her go, she glared at her stepmother.
"I hate you." The little girl shouted before running away. Lyanna tried to pretend she hadn't heard and went back to rocking Visenya, who continued to cry.
"Don't worry, your sister is upset and that's normal. You know your mother died recently." She said quietly. This time she didn't have to sing and a few minutes later the newborn was sleeping peacefully in her cot.
"I'm sorry Your Majesty, I never had a problem soothing the princess when she cried before." The nurse said sadly. Stark, clutching the edge of the cradle, did not look away from her stepdaughter.
"I've never held her before." She confessed. "I can't get it out of my head that she should have been my daughter and not Elia's, and that my son should be sleeping in a cradle like this now." She continued as a silent tear ran down her cheek.
"A few years ago I lost a son... he died a few days after he was born. A month later, my sister gave birth to a beautiful baby boy... ... I know how you feel, but try to think that in a few years you too will have a son or daughter". The nurse said understandingly. "I will not lie to you and tell you that this pain will ever be mine. The memory of that lost child will probably haunt you for the rest of your life, but over the years it may fade and the children that come may help to ease that pain. She continued.
"They look so small and beautiful." The wolf commented, stroking her stepdaughter's cheek with a finger. "I have lost a son and she has lost her mother, she is lucky not to notice." She went on, knowing that within a few years the princess would learn that her mother had died in childbirth. "Is it true that they cut Elia's womb to take her out?" She asked, thinking back to the nightmare she had had and the rumors she had heard about the death of Rhaegar's first wife.
"Yes, but they had no choice. If they hadn't, they would both have died and Princess Elia would have agreed," the servant said, joining the conversation. "Although they say it was still terrible."
"I think it was the right thing to do." Lyanna replied in a hushed voice, wondering if she would have the same courage as Elia and trembling at the thought that Rhaegar might one day decide to sacrifice her life because the child she was expecting was theoretically destined to be born of their union. The Seer had said that the Prince of Promise would be a descendant of Rhaegar and that he would be born of the union of ice and fire, but he did not know if he would be Rhaegar's son, and then he had said that Visenya was important, and for the umpteenth time since her husband had told her what the Seer had told him, Lyanna wondered why this baby girl was so important.
What is so special about you? Yes, the woman asked, staring at the peacefully sleeping newborn.
A few weeks later
Lyanna walked down the corridor with a bright smile on her face. The gift she had ordered for Princess Visenya was ready and had just been delivered, and the woman was on her way to the nursery. As she approached the door she noticed Ser Jaime Lannister standing there. He had joined the Kingsguard a few years earlier when he was only fifteen. Lord Tywin had not been happy with his son's choice, as members of the Kingsguard were sworn not to marry, bear children or inherit lands, but despite being one of the most powerful men in the realm, there was nothing he could do about it, and there were those who insinuated that King Aerys had accepted Ser Jaime into the Kingsguard to spite the Lord of Casterly Rock.
"Your Grace, forgive me, but I do not think this is the time to visit the children." The Lion said in a displeased tone, holding out a hand to prevent her from placing it on the door handle. The Nordic stared at him in confusion.
"Why?" She asked.
"Prince Oberyn is in the room." He replied, and she felt a sense of unease at the mention of Elia's sibling, who had come to the capital a few days earlier to attend his brother-in-law's coronation. In truth, Oberyn cared for no one but his sister's children; he would probably be more than happy to see his brother-in-law and his new wife burn in the flames of the Seven Hells, and she certainly couldn't blame him for hating her.
"Never mind. I'm just here to give Princess Visenya a gift." She said, trying to appear more confident than she really was and thinking that sooner or later she would have to face Oberyn anyway. Jaime stared at her hesitantly, then nodded his head in agreement and withdrew his hand. She entered the room and as soon as she crossed the threshold of the door two heads, one blonde and one dark, turned to look at her.
"Lyanna, what are you doing here?" Her husband had been cold to her since they had returned to the capital, a far cry from the man who had persuaded her to run away with him, bewitching her with his good looks and promising her a happy life together. Thinking about it now, she realized that she probably should have thought about it more before accepting, yes, she should have done so instead of acting on impulse and foolishly thinking that her choice would have no consequences. Oberyn stared at her with the same contempt in his eyes that he had read in his cousin's. He wore an orange robe embroidered with suns and spears in the center, symbolizing his house.
"I had a gift made for Princess Visenya." She said, trying to appear calm as she raised her hand to show the rattle she had made for her stepdaughter. On one side of the rattle was the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, while on the other was the sun symbol instead of House Martell.
"Thank you, but you can go now." Said the Dornish prince, not even bothering to be polite. She tried to act as if nothing had happened and approached the cradle. Visenya seemed to recognise her face and smiled. Lyanna smiled in return, picking up the newborn as she had done so many times since the first time, then holding the rattle close to her little face. "Has Rhaegar told you the news yet, Queen Lyanna?" Oberyn asked and she stared at him in confusion.
"What news?" She asked quietly, sure it could not be bad.
"I'm not sure this is the time." Rhaegar said in a hesitant tone and the woman began to feel a sense of unease. She did not like the turn this situation was taking.
"Why? The decision has already been made." Oberyn replied in a firm voice. "Princess Visenya will leave with me for Dorne when it is time to return to Sunspear." He announced.
"Is she not a little young for such a journey? Perhaps it would be best to wait." She replied with uncertainty.
"No, I disagree." The Martell replied. "I and my brother, Prince Doran, have requested that Visenya be raised in Dorne, of course her siblings will be able to visit her and her father will be welcome as well." He continued. The girl felt a churning in her stomach as a sharp pain, the same pain she had felt when her son was stillborn, swept over her like a river in flood.
"No, you can't. It's not right." She said in a desperate tone. Oberyn was unmoved by her desperation, and in fact the contempt he felt for her seemed to increase.
"The decision has been made. Visenya will be raised in Dorne, where her mother grew up. My siblings and I have lost a sister and it seems only fair that we be entrusted with their youngest daughter." He didn't openly accuse her, but it was obvious that he held her responsible, and to him and Doran, having the youngest of their grandchildren grow up in Dorne must have sounded like some sort of compensation.
"Rhaegar, please. Please don't take them from me." She said in a pleading tone, turning to stare at her husband, but there was not a hint of sympathy in her indigo eyes.
"The decision has been made, Lyanna. Visenya will be happy in Dorne and you can write to her if you wish." He replied.
"If you want a daughter, you must seek one and not take other women's daughters." Martell shouted. Those words hurt her more than hundreds of daggers. He could not know that she had lost a child and for her, who had grown to love her stepdaughter, with whom she had felt a strong bond from the first moment she held her in her arms and who, unlike her older sister, did not stare at her as if she were the enemy, to have that child taken from her was as terrible as learning that her son had been stillborn.
In the days that followed, she wept and begged Rhaegar not to send Visenya to Dorne, but each time he replied that the decision had been made and it was none of her concern. The fact that she thought it was none of her business made her feel even worse. Since her husband would not listen to her, she tried her mother-in-law; even Rhaella, not thrilled at the thought of her youngest granddaughter growing up away from her, tried to persuade her son to change his mind, but to no avail.
When Visenya finally left with her maternal uncle, Dyana Sand, and the other handmaids of Elia, who had asked and been allowed to return to their home, the newly crowned queen locked herself in her room and did not come out for days.
Shortly afterwards, Rhaella died giving birth to her and Aerys's last child, a girl named Daenerys.
After a few months, she decided to follow Oberyn's advice, deluding herself that having a daughter of her own would make her forget her stepdaughter and ease the pain she felt. But despite several attempts, her womb remained empty.
After a few years, Lyanna began to believe that she and Rhaegar were not meant to have more children and tried to focus on Rhaenys and Aegon, even though both children, and especially the stepdaughter, despised her. She and Rhaegar drifted apart and whatever feelings there had been between them faded. Unlike her, her husband was convinced that she would become pregnant sooner or later because the Prince of Promise had not yet been born. Lyanna hoped he was right, but in her heart she feared she would never conceive again.
All she had left was Visenya's rattle, a rattle she decided to keep in her bedroom, as if it were some kind of relic that no one but she could touch.