Winterfell, the North
280 AC
Oh, how she wanted to kill her brother. How fucking dare Ned, Father sell her like a fucking broodmare. To Robert Baratheon of all fucking people: The newly made Lord of Storm Lands and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.
According to Bran, he had a bastard daughter in the Vale already. If that was any indication, then it seemed her husband-to-be couldn't keep his cock in his pants. He chased anything with a pair of tits and a cunt beneath their dress.
Brandon had been much the same till that was he'd settled for his bride-to-be. Catelyn Tully. The eldest daughter of Lord Hoster Tully had tamed the Wild Wolf possible. Benjen was smitten with Lady Dacey Mormont, the youngest cousin of the current Lord of Bear Island, Lord Jorah Mormont.
She cursed her father and older brother as she fled to the stables. Winter stuck her head over the stall door. Wickering to her softly. "Come on, girl, we're going to escape this place for a little while."
Lyanna saddled her mare. She strapped her bow and sword to the saddle before taking off out the main gate just as Rickard came into the courtyard.
"Don't say it, Lya." Rickard didn't look over his shoulder to see his wife standing there.
"Well, how did you expect her to react, my love? Promised to marry a man she's never met."
"It's a good match, Ned vouches for him. They'll be happy together, Lyarra."
"Oh, you really must have hit your head if you believe that, Rickard. Bran told me all about Robert Baratheon. He's got a bastard daughter in the Vale already. If you think he will not stray from the marital bed once the novelty wears off after she gives him a son, He'll go back to his whores and dishorning their vows, then you are a fool Husband" Lyarra shook her head at her husband's naivety that they would be happy together.
Lyanna urged Winter on faster; the mare galloped as fast as her legs would carry her and her rider, as far from Winterfell as her rider wanted to get. The mare ate up the ground, racing across the Wolfwoods.
Lyanna slowed Winter to a stop after a while. Winter was breathing hard; her sides were laved with foam from the hard ride.
"Good girl. Gods how I wish we could just ride and ride somewhere far away from here. I am to be sold like a broodmare girl to a man I don't know. He already has a bastard daughter. I don't think he will be faithful to me or our vows." Lyanna cried into Winter's mane.
Lyanna looked up as the sound of horse hoofbeats grew closer. Lyanna pulled her sword from its scabbard on her saddle.
"Easy, Lya, it's only me." Her eldest brother, Brandon, drew rein beside her.
"Did Father send you?"
"No mother did. She was worried when you took off like that. She didn't want you to be alone," Brandon explained.
"You've heard then."
"Yes, mother told me you'd been promised to Robert Baratheon," Brandon answered
"I won't marry him, Bran. I'd rather become a Sepa than marry that pig."
"Aye, be that as it may, Lya, you need to find a husband sooner or later," Brandon said carefully, all too aware of his sister's fiery wolf-blood temper.
"Everyone seems so keen to tell me what I need. Weren't you the one who said if I should marry, I should love the man? Have you changed your tone, Brandon?"
"No. But you should give him a chance, Lyanna." Brandon tried not to erk his sister's famously short temper.
"I suppose, but I could never marry a man like him nor love him."
"No. You're waiting for your sliver-haired prince to sweep you off your feet." Brandon teased his sister mercilessly about Lyanna's obsession with the history of House Targaryen and, when she was eight or so, gushing one day about possibly marrying her sliver-harried prince. Brandon had never let her live it down ever since.
"Shut up. I'll race you back." Lyanna wheeled Winter around, kicking her into a gallop heading for the Keep.
Brandon shook his head, spurring his horse to chase after Lyanna.
Dragonstone, 280 AC
It was a beautiful, clear day, and the weather was the nicest it had been in days. There was neither a cloud in the sky nor any sign of rain. It had rained for three days straight. Rhaneys was eager to get out of the castle and run about Aegon's gardens.
Elia had food prepared while Ser Arthur and Ser Lewyn stood guard as Prince Rhaegar and Aemon joined them in the gardens.
Rhaenys's faithful companion, her cat named for the Black Dread Balerion, played with the young Targaryen/Martell Princess. Rhaegar sat with his wife under the old oak tree as Aemon played with his niece.
Swinging her around by her arms. "Kepa, Muna, did you see me flying?"
"Yes, Byka zaldrīzes we see you." Rhaegar smiled at his daughter's laughter as Aemon chased her around the gardens. (Little Dragon)
"He'll be a good father one day," Elia remarked, watching her good brother with her daughter.
"When he settles down, you mean?" Rhaegar leaned back against the old oak tree. Pulling Elia into his arms. His hand was on her ever-expanded belly.
"Your graces, I hate to intrude; a ship has been spotted on the horizon, bearing the colors of The Night's Watch." Sargent Dovan Drinkwater of the Dragonstone Garrison bowed his head as he relayed the news.
"Thank you, Sargent."
"My Prince" Drinkwater took his leave.
"Aemon. Great Uncle Aemon's ship has been spotted," Rhaegar called to his brother.
"Alright"
"Ser Lewyn, stay with Princess Elia and Rhaenys. Arthur, come with me and Aemon." Rhaegar relayed his orders.
"Yes, my prince." Both Lewyn and Arthur answered.
"We won't be long, my love."
"Go, we'll be fine," Elia kissed Rhaegar lovingly.
TheIce Maidendocked at the docks at Dragonstone. It had been many years since Aemon Targaryen had set foot on the island, his ancestral home. Aemon was glad to see it before his eyes completely failed. He had been losing his eyesight little by little over the last few years.
Four members of the Night's Watch accompanied him. Jeor Mormont, former Lord of Bear Island, Mykal Stone, Darron Snow, and Bander Rivers to Dragonstone. He had precious cargo that he was transporting from Castle Black to Dragonstone.
Even with his failing eyesight, Aemon recognized his two great-nephews. His namesake was taller than his older twin brother by two inches.
"Uncle, I hope your sea voyage was well." Rhaegar embraced Aemon first.
"The seas and gods were kind to us, Rhaegar. It's good to be in the warmth of the South once again. I'm not going to miss the cold at Castle Black."
"Uncle, you're looking well." Aemon hugged his great uncle and the man whom he was named for.
"As well I can be for a man of my advanced age, you mean."Aemon looked good for a man of his age of eighty and two name days.
"Lord Commander Qorgyle said in his raven that you would have two men accompanying you here to Dragonstone. Why the extra two men?" Rhaegar noticed there were four men rather than two that accompanied his great uncle to Dragonstone from Castle Black.
"Lord Commander felt it was best that I have the extra protection, seeing I have valuable cargo with me." Maester Aemon answered
"Cargo?" Rhaegar questioned.
"All will be revealed, Nephew. Now that I've settled, I can meet this lovely wife of yours and daughter," was all Maester Aemon said.
'Dragon Eggs is what your uncle has brought for you and your brother Aemon. There are more eggs on the island. Look for a cave with dragon glass. Buried deep within the cave, you will find dragon eggs. That has been untouched for many years.
It seems you were right about the Maesters poisoning the members of House Targaryen. Maester Pycelle is the one who has been poisoning your mother and father. The proof you need can be found in his chambers.
Aemon remembers you from his previous life. He will be of great help to you in your forthcoming fight to come with the Night King and his armies of the undead. That dragon glass is one of the ways to kill the army of the undead, along with fire and Valyrian steel.' Bloodraven's voice rang in his mind.
Aemon made a mental note about the dragon glass. And the other ways to kill the White Walkers, the Army of the Undead, and the Night King.
Aemon joined his brother and great-uncle in the Maester's chambers in the Sea Dragon Tower of Dragonstone Keep.
"What was this cargo that was so precious you brought with you, Uncle?" Rhaegar asked curiously.
"Take a look for yourself, Nephew," Maester Aemon said, taking a seat.
Rhaegar opened the trunk in question. His eyes grew wide as he saw what lay in the trunk in question. "Aemon, brother, come here and take a look at this."
"What is it?" Aemon asked, knowing full well what lay in the chest.
"Dragon Eggs. Uncle, where did you get them?" Rhaegar asked, holding a dragon egg that was white with gold speckles.
"Castle Black, they were laid by Queen Alysanne's dragon Sliverwing." Maester Aemon answered there were six eggs in total. "The eggs aren't the only thing I brought with me. Seeing as your brother has Blackfyre, it's only fair you have the other sword of House Targaryen."
"Dark Sister," Rhaegar said in disbelief as he pulled the famous Valyrian Long Sword from the chest.
"If you're wondering why I had it, Brynden Rivers entrusted it to me when he left to go ranging beyond the Wall. I felt like it was time for her to go back where she belongs, being wielded by a Targaryen." Maester Aemon explained how he came to have Dark Sister in his possession.
"Thank you, Uncle. What are we doing with the dragon eggs? The last time we tried to hatch them, The disaster of Summerhall happened. We don't want a repeat of that."
"Your guess is as good as mine, Nephew. For now, they must be kept in a safe place."
"Oh course Uncle" Aemon took the dragon egg from Rhaegar. He felt the egg; it was warm, and he could feel a heartbeat within the egg. "Rhaegar, did the egg feel warm to you?"
"It did, why?"
"I swore I felt something beating inside it, like a heartbeat." Aemon carefully placed the egg back in the chest with the other five.
"Perhaps there is something in the books of the Library as to how we can hatch them."
"The fewer people who know about this, the better," Rhaegar remarked
"Agreed."
"How fares your mother, father, brother, and sister?" Maester Aemon asked after his nephew and niece.
"Father grows worse with each day. Mother, Viserys, and Dany walk on eggshells around him, as does everyone in the castle." Aemon had a dark look pass over his face briefly as he remembered his mother yelling for help as his father forced himself on her. "Other than that, they are in fine health."
Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.
280 AC
The former Lord Hand, Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West sat in his solar going over the latest tax reports, takings from their mines, and trade down from Lannisport.
There was a knock on his solar door.
"Enter," Tywin barked, looking up from the tax reports.
"Ravens from Harrenhal, Lord Tywin from Lord Whent. Another from Dragonstone from Prince Aemon Targaryen," Maester Creylen placed the scrolls on Tywin's desk.
"Was that all the Ravens maester?"
"Yes, my Lord," Maester Creylen said, taking his leave.
To Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.
Lord Walter Whent invites you to a tournament his Lordships is hosting in two moons' time at Harrenhal.
Lord Walter Whent, Lord of Harrenhal.
A tournament at Harrenhal was hardly interesting, Tywin. It was of no interest to him. Lord Whent had no daughters. Nor would it benefit House Lannister's positions. Tywin set aside the scroll from Lord Whent.
He wondered what it was the second son of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella wanted with him and why he had written to him.
To Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.
Lord Tywin. You have no doubt by now had a Raven from Lord Whent regarding a tournament he is hosting at Harrenhal in two moons' time. It would be of great interest for you to attend. Every lord in the Seven Kingdoms has been invited.
My brother, Crown Prince Rhaegar, and I will be attending the tournament. To discuss something with all the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms. Your attendance at the tournament would be of great help to our cause.
A cause to keep peace within the Seven Kingdoms. You, as my lord father's Lord Hand, you have first-hand knowledge of my Lord Father's ailing mental capacity and fitness to remain as King.
I can only ask that you attend this tournament to discuss the future of the Seven Kingdoms.
Yours faithfully, Prince Aemon of House Targaryen.
Hmm, this letter was most interesting. If he could not have his only daughter marry the Crown Prince, but the second son would do nicely. What the prince said of the king made sense. He was no longer fit to rule.
Prince Rhaegar would be better to take his father's place as king. But due to the mental instability of Aerys and his growing madness, everything had to be done in secret. Perhaps he and Cersei should attend this tournament at Harrenhal.