XII.

Twenty-ninth day of the fifth moon of 297AC. Castle Black, North of Westeros.

On the second day after their arrival at Castle Black, her son Aegon, together with her nephew Bran and her brother Benjen, set out as best they could on top of Balerion, towards the westernmost castle of the Wall, the Shadow Tower. They went there in search of a ranger of the watch named Qhorin, who according to her brother Benjen would surely know where was the site of the visions that Aegon had during the ritual that brought her husband, her son and herself back to life.

At first Aegon had planned to pick up Benjen, and with Bran, cross to the other side of the Wall. In this way, taking advantage of the fact that they could search from the heights, they would use Balerion as a method of transportation to search for the gigantic Weirdwood Tree of the vision.

However the plan soon proved unworkable when the dragons refused to fly over or cross the Wall. The only solution left for them if Aegon intended to continue using the Black Dread was to go around the Wall to one end and then cross to the other side. Because of this, Benjen suggested that they could pass over the Shadow Tower to enlist the help of this Qhorin, apparently the best ranger in the watch, who could have a clear idea of where would be the place that was keeping Lya's son awake in the nights.

She along with her husband Rhaegar, her niece Arya and the Direwolfs were left to wait in Castle Black. Supposedly for protection against what could be on the other side of the Wall, as their son Egg explained. That the wolves did not go with him also was justified it as a method of protection against the brothers of the Watch 'The black brothers should be very crazy to try to do something to Arya or me. Not only do we have four Direwolfs defending us ... Although it is a first for him, Rhaegar is now a Dragonrider ... and if I know anything about Rhae, he would melt the wall to get revenge if something happened to his niece or to me.' Lyanna thought as she watched from the window of their rooms in the King's Tower, how Rhaegar riding Vhagar returned high in the sky from the location where Mole's Town stood.

Rhaegar had decided to dedicate part of his free time to improving the ability to control and the bond with the dragon that once belonged to Visenya. Little by little, in his short flights between Castle Black and Mole's Town, it seemed that he was getting it.

Although without reaching the level of fluidity in the movements that Meraxes had, still without anyone to ride it 'or precisely because of that Meraxes fly in that way' or without the elegance and ease that Lya's son had. 'After all, Egg has been flying in Balerion for twenty-two years. Rhaegar does not even reach a fortnight.'

Her husband by now, would have been awake for hours, however Arya was just awake and Lyanna had barely finished dressing. But it was part of the routine they had set for themselves since the second day of their presence on the Wall, at the recommendation of Lord Commander Jeor Mormont.

Life at Castle Black followed certain patterns; the mornings were for the training of the new recruits and the brothers, the afternoons for the work in the Castle and on the wall. Because she and her niece were women, it was in the afternoons that she and Arya were able to show themselves more in public, as there were fewer black brothers idling than in the mornings.

Shortly after she and Arya woke up each afternoon in the rooms of the King's Tower, they ate breakfast brought by the Lord Steward, Bowen Marsh, himself, after which Lyanna and Arya dedicated themselves to training with swords and bows under the supervision of Rhaegar, and sometimes accompanied by the shy Samwell Tarly. In the mornings, Rhaegar also occasionally participated in the training of the new recruits and the black brothers.

The man who knelt before her husband that first day in the Wall, Ser Alliser Thorne, was Castle Black's master of arms. From the moment Aegon convinced Thorne's of the upcoming Targaryen restoration and review of penalties during the regime change, he became something akin of a Kings guard to Rhaegar, Arya, and Lyanna herself.

Along with him, Ser Jaremy Rykker, was also part of the improvised Kings guard, which at no time stopped having them watched even from a distance. In addition to the two knights, the Lord Steward, took care of all their needs and the new recruits not yet sworn, Grenn, Pyp and Samwell Tarly were part of the small entourage they had in Castle Black.

Furthermore, Ser Alliser allowed Rhaegar to take over the morning training sessions, when he joined them, under the pretext that who better than the gifted student of the Sword of Dawn to teach those useless recruits. 'At times I do not know if that is done out of deference to Rhae, or because simply, Thorne is a man incapable of teaching anything to anyone due to the abruptness and lack of tact in his ways.'

Lyanna considered that Ser Alliser was a man who never might like her, or even inspire empathy in her, but Lyanna could respect his principles and honor. 'Ser Alliser preferred to end up on the Wall than serving with Robert's whoremonger. At least, that speaks something in the old and sour knight favor.'

After training and changing, Lya and Arya used to head before dinner to the Maester's rooms. There among the venerable Aemon, the young but clever Tarly and her husband, Arya and Lyanna were being subjected to a crash course in how a Crown Prince of Westeros should be raised.

If something her son had made clear is that all those who were accompanying him on his campaigns, regardless of age or gender, would share responsibilities and command with him. Therefore, they must at least have the same educational foundations as Rhaegar, Aegon, or Maester Aemon.

Since Bran by default was always going to be attached to Aegon or Rhaegar, they took it for granted that he would learn from the two of them as he went along, but she and her niece had to take advantage of their stay at the Wall. To be instructed at forced marches. They were to study High Valyrian, the history of house Targaryen, the history of Essos and Westeros, as well as current and historical political notions and institutions on both continents. Almost every night, after dinner in the common mess hall and while Rhaegar slept, she and Arya stayed awake under the light of candles and oil lamps, studying the topics that the next day their mentors would ask and correct.

And so they had been for eight days and nights. And now this one, was the ninth.

One of the few good things that Lyanna found in the frozen castle was the endless conversations with her great-great-uncle-in-law, Aemon. The Maester was an inexhaustible source of knowledge and good advice, who knew first-hand the history of the last hundred years. In addition, at no time did he point to her as the cause of the near extinction of house Targaryen. On the contrary, both she and little Arya were welcomed with open arms, as if they were Aemon's family.

'To think that my father wanted to use me as a political piece to end all of them and that my escape with Rhae almost succeeded in that...'she mused guiltily to herself whenever the old maester smiled at Lya, or had words of warmth and comfort for her. For that reason, Lyanna tried to make time almost every night after dinner before came back to her rooms, whenever the old master did his duty, to along with Arya, read him light stories from the chair near his bed in the maester's rooms in the sturdy wooden fortress, which it housed the aviary on its roof.

Turning inside of their rooms, Lya gazed towards her niece, who was already fully dressed and continuing to play with the three Direwolf pups, which seemed to grow by day. They were still far from Winter's size, but they already looked like medium-grown dogs. 'Soon they won't be able to ride the dragons either, just like Winter' thought as she looked at them.

"Arya, are you ready? Rhaegar is coming back from his flights, so I think we should go heading towards the courtyard." Lyanna said jovially to her niece.

"Yes aunt Lya, I'm ready. Today I'm going to beat you in archery, you'll see!"Arya uttered excitedly.

Although aunt and niece were both even in the sword wielding, Lya's greater height allowed her to hold the bow more efficiently than Arya's, favoring her aim, much to the irritation of her ultra- competitive niece.

"We'll see... I'm not going to give you the award, so you'll have to improve a lot." Lya said sticking out her tongue, in clear defiance.

Before the end of each training, when Arya and Lyanna already had their arms that could hardly move them from the weight of the wooden swords with which they trained, Rhaegar made them participate in marksmanship competitions. The way that both consented to continue exercising their exhausted arms after each sword session was her husband's promise that the one of the two who won the most times at the end of the stay at the Wall, would receive a reward according to her talent.

This incentive favored the existence of a healthy competition between her and her niece Arya, to see who would win the mysterious trophy. 'However, except the fourth day, I have always beaten Arya. In case I win, I must give her what Rhaegar gives me.' thought as she followed her niece shot out with the wolves at her trail, down the stairs to the oak's heavy double door, guarded by Ser Jaremy.

When the knight from the Crownlands saw her, he bowed his head and began to follow her about five paces away, while her she-wolf Winter made it more distant, about fifteen.

When they reached the courtyard, where her husband was supposed to be waiting for them, the only thing she found were the training dummys and the targets, but except for that, totally deserted.

"Arya, stay here with the wolves and Ser Jaremy. I'm going to go and ask the sentry on duty if Rhaegar has already returned, and if so, if he has any idea where my husband is." Lya said to Arya and the black brother, while pointing towards a black brother who was near the door.

There she found that the brother in question was 'Dolorous' Edd, one of the brothers who had received them with open arms 'Or rather he had accepted them because he was terrified on the grounds that two of them were people who had returned to life after fifteen years dead and looking the same as they had before their death. As if that were not enough, there was always the fear of possible reprisals from dragons and wolves.'

Before turning to Edd, she looked west; 'sunset is approaching, and Arya and I have to train' she thought impatiently in view of Rhaegar's absence.

"Edd could you find His Excellence my husband, for me and my niece." Lyanna said in a close and friendly voice to the sarcastic black brother, while with her eyes she pointed to the wooden sword in her hand.

"Yes. Not a problem Your Excellence. Surely the Prince will be downstairs with the books ..." answered the black brother, after which bowed slightly.

"My old Septon used to say that books are dead men speaking. Dead men must keep silent, is what I say. Nobody wants to listen to the delusions of a dead man." Edd went muttering his sorrows in the direction where the black brother thought Lya's husband was. After that Lyanna went back to Arya and Ser Jaremy.

"Your uncle is locked up with the books again... I imagine it will take a while. What do you say if we change our wooden swords for steel ones and test them against the dummys?" She told Arya, who quickly got rid of her wooden sword to go running for her Needle and Lya's still unnamed sword that were in Noye's forge next to them.

Turning to the knight, who seemed to remain totally unfazed despite Winter's presence less than a meter from him, Lyanna looked at Ser Jaremy with warmth and closeness, smiling at him as she walked over to him.

"Ser Jaremy, could you correct our stances for us when we're at it? I know it goes way out of your duty as brother of the watch by a lot, but it is beginning to dusk and I don't know how much more time my niece and I will have to polish at least the basics to defend ourselves."Lya said with a warm and persuasive voice.

The Knight of the Crownlands grinned from ear to ear, a smile that reached his eyes. "Without a doubt, Your Excellence. It will be a pleasure for me to be able to boast one day that I helped improve the legendary Knight of the Laughing Tree and supervised the first blows with a sword of a Princess of the Realm." Ser Jaremy said in a voice that mixed illusion with honor.

'I think that if I ask him to go to Kings Landing and finish off Robert, he would not hesitate for a second to break his Night's Watch vows' Lyanna thought with some joy to see that even after the defeat in the Rebellion, and despite the exile imposed by the victors, there were men capable of giving their lives for the Targaryen cause 'My Cause'.

And so, when Arya returned, they got down to work, under the watchful eye of Ser Jaremy, who from time to time recommended a different footing or stance, which would allow them a better angle in their blows towards the enemy.

Both Lyanna and her niece had the same type of physical complexion, and despite the current difference in height, it was possible that Arya also reached and exceed the five feet in height. Both had swords shorter than a long sword, but longer than a short sword, with the addition of having extremely thin blades.

Therefore, they had to develop practically their own fighting styles, based on general advice from the typical fighting styles in Westeros. Their was never going to be the Westerosi steel fight, the knight's fight, where one cuts and hammers, no. The two of them must almost learn to dance with their fine swords, a sudden, fast dance. They had to be fast enough to pierce the unprotected points of their attackers, but at the same time agile enough to stay in stances and footing that would allow them to quickly dodge the opponent's attacks. Maximizing their virtues of small size and speed, while minimizing their absence of strength and power against men.

'At least thanks to Ser Jaremy, today we will have someone with some idea of what we can be doing right or wrong ... to know when Rhaegar will come if they have discovered a manuscript from two thousand years ago.' Lyanna sighed with some resignation before one of the things that made her husband the special person he was.

Rhaegar spent all the time that he was not training or with her and Arya, in the library with his great-great-uncle Aemon, reading old manuscripts, some of them from Old Valyria itself and related to the legend of the long night and the prophecy of Azor Ahai, as well of history of house Targaryen.

The arrival of the insecure and timid Samwell Tarly one of the mornings that Rhaegar was conducting training for the new recruits turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If there was anyone who could be more bookish than Rhaegar, it was the fat lad from Horn Hill.

Thanks to the influence with Ser Alliser, Rhaegar first managed to convince Castle Black's Master at Arms that Tarly was unfit material to train, at least through conventional methods, and then convince Tarly himself to wait for swear his vows with the Watch, at least until the return of her son Aegon. She knew perfectly well that Rhaegar intended to make Tarly the Steward of Aemon, as well as a kind of link of the Targaryen house on the wall, sworn not to the Night's Watch, but to house Targaryen, represented in the figure by Aegon. Hence, until he returned, Rhaegar could not fully develop his plan.

For her part, what Lyanna wants is to ask Aegon to take them to Horn Hill and use Balerion to burn the evil-born Randyll Tarly in his own castle. Because that's what a bastard like him deserved.

'If I thought my father was bad ... For the old and new Gods, threaten his own son with death for not being a warrior but an intellectual.' she thought with a certain joy to learn that Rhaegar had sheltered young Tarly under his wing.

In a way it reminded Lyanna of her and the relationship with Howland in the now so distant Tourney, which to her was still as if it had been yesterday. Also, thanks to the fact that neither she nor Arya scared him, the plump lad timidly joined their sparring sessions, and even in the archery. The latter something in which both Rhaegar and Maester Aemon had insisted Tarly 'Whether you are the heir or not, at least you must know how to use your bow' and with those simple words, Tarly generally participated alongside she and Arya in their particular marksmanship contest.

Furthermore Rhaegar showed infinite patience with the boy 'Something tells me, if it wasn't for having read Visenya's seven times cursed prophecy, he would have ended up being someone like that' Lyanna laughed internally at imagining a plump and cowardly Rhaegar.

Although she and her niece did not really understand why most of their training did not consist of crossing swords between them, most of these consisted of learning to maintain footings and stances, facing each other. Performing over and over again, always in the same order and pattern, the same series of steps and movements.

Based on this, they had to know how to act and react to the enemy's movements. Rhaegar always insisted that the key to be a great warrior was to always be able to stand upright, firm and stable in support. That way one could face any rival stance. If one was unbalanced, it was very easy to throw you to the ground and then be seriously or fatally injured. Lya and Arya had to take advantage of their small size and speed, to leave as a sieve and defeat enemies superior to them in strength, who would never expect such abilities from them. Therefore, Rhaegar always insisted that it was fundamental for both of them, that they have great mastery of their stances. In the same way, he insisted on the knowledge and use of the space that surrounded them, to be able to dodge, move quickly and always be firmly supported on the feet.

Before she and Arya knew it, it was dark. Rhaegar hadn't come in the end and Lord Steward Marsh had come to advise them that dinner would be ready shortly in the common mess hall, where Rhaegar and Maester Aemon were waiting for them. After giving Ser Jaremy permission to go directly to the mess hall she, Arya, and the wolves made their way to the rooms in the King's

Tower, where they quickly stripped off their training clothes, to simply put on their tunics strung with breeches of wool and boots, with the cloaks crossed on the chest from shoulder to waist.

Arya finished before her, so she gave Arya permission to go with the pups to the mess hall, but only if she did not stop along the way.

"Arya, I'll leave you if you promise me that you'll go from here to the table where your uncle is. I know that nothing has happened to us for now and that we have a certain sense of security, but prevention will never hurt." Lya told her niece with a concern that she did not know she have.

'And not just because of the fury I might have to face from my son Aegon and my brother Ned... no... just like for Aegon I would give and gave my life, for my niece Arya I would too. It is for her that we have to fight to make a better world' she thought as looked at Arya, while resting her right hand on Arya's left shoulder.

Arya made him the biggest eyes she could muster, without a doubt feeling the affection behind Lyanna's sincere concern. "I promise you aunt. From here I'll go straight to uncle's table. I will be fine, you'll see. Jon will be back soon, with Bran and Uncle Benjen and we will all be together again. But even though I miss Jon and Bran, I like being with you. Believe it or not, I love you a lot aunt and the last thing I want, is to cause you displeasure. Also, tomorrow I have to beat you with the bow." Arya said in a low tone, almost embarrassed. After her words, Arya put Lya's arm aside to catch her above her waist and hug her with such force that it almost took the air out of Lya's lungs.

"I love you too Arya. Together with Aegon, you are like an extension of me. From the first night It feel right that I feel like this towards you, and I will do everything in my power to protect you and take care of you ... But don't expect to ever beat me at the bow." Lyanna said almost crying and with a broken voice at first, to finish jokingly and ruffling Arya's hair.

After making a face at her, Arya left the rooms and Lya finished adjusting her cloak and tried to compose herself a bit. 'I don't know if it's the nerves for Aegon and the ones with him, the guilt of feeling responsible for good men like Ser Jaremy losing everything for my crazy plan, the fear of losing everything I've suddenly found I have, the stored memories of the year of false spring or anger towards a series of people in Westeros, whom for many years and if everything goes according to plan, will not be able to feel my wrath.' What Lya knew for sure was that underneath from her smiling and willful facade, she had an internal conflict about to erupt.

Since the night Aegon left with Benjen and Bran, Lyanna, Arya, and Rhaegar had eaten at a corner table in the brothers' mess hall.That night seemed an exception. As she entered saw Rhaegar sitting at the head of a table near the roaring fire in the fireplace. At her husband left were Samwell Tarly, Ser Jaremy Rykker, and Ser Alliser Thorne. At Rhaegar's right there was a free place for her, and then were Arya and Maester Aemon sat on the long bench.

That night, Hobb Three Fingers prepared a special meal for the exceptional guests to celebrate the occasion of the Watch's friendship with the Dragons. When Lyanna reached the mess hall, the Lord Steward himself led her to the bench near the fire.

The seven members from the royal table would feast on lamb baked in a garlic and herb crust, garnished with sprigs of mint, and surrounded by mashed yellow turnips swimming in butter. "From the Lord Commander's own table." Bowen Marsh told her before she sat down. There were spinach and chickpea salads and turnip greens, and then bowls of frozen blueberries and sweet cream.

"Uncle Aemon, do you think it will take long fo them to come back?" Arya asked the old maester

seated at Lya's right while Arya stuffed food into her mouth. 'If one thing Arya is enjoying about our stay on the Wall, it's the disappearance of all etiquette at lunchtime. By the old Gods, even my Brandon didn't eat that fiercely! Another of the family with wolf-blood!'

The Maester turned his white eyes to Arya, smiling as he spoke in a voice that pretended to be tired. "I hope so. I'm sick of having to answer your questions about the Targaryen lore. Certainly your cousin Aegon or your uncle Rhaegar could answer them better than me, even here our young Tarly. In these days, your uncle and I have discovered that everything that he does not have as a warrior, he has it as an intellectual."

At the praise of the old Targaryen, Tarly turned the color of the dragons of the Targaryen sigil 'If it weren't for Rhae, who knows what a man like Thorne would do with poor Samwell.' Lyanna thought as watched the look of disgust the weathered knight gave Tarly, whom surely he considered a coward for being unable to wield a weapon.

Faced with the obvious discomfort of being looked at around the table, and even by recruits and brothers from others, Lyanna decided to take Tarly out of focus a bit. "My dear Uncle Aemon, it is not good to despise someone's combat skills because they seem non-existent. I am convinced that with the necessary motivation and someone capable of finding a way to teach him to trust in his ability in the martial arts, he could do it just as well as anyone else in the Watch " Lya said smiling and knowingly as she looked at Samwell who was sitting opposite her. It was a way of reassuring him that nothing was wrong because he was still unable to use a sword or a bow, as Tarly could always learn.

"But Alas! My dear niece Lyanna, not all of us have the courage to put on armor and get on tourney lists as a mystery knight. And sometimes it is not courage, if not unconsciousness that leads to taking up arms..." the old maester answered her as he paused to look at her with a look, which despite not seeing anything, seemed to bare all the fears present in her soul.

"Although my father Maekar never saw it that way, I was always of the opinion that with knowledge and words, no more swords would be needed...Maybe in the future our dear Samwell will surprise us and find a way to find such a solution." the maester said with a certain reproach at first, like a paternal reproach, to end up praising Tarly even more, who no longer knew where to go.

"A coward can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when it costs nothing. How easy it seems, then, to walk the path of honor. However, sooner or later, in the life of every man and woman there comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he or she must choose." after which words Aemon fixed his milky gaze on Rhaegar.

Noticing as well as Lyanna, where the old maester was headed and also perceiving that his intellectual protégé was uncomfortable, Rhaegar returned to the topic of the conversation that Arya had started when Lyanna has arrived.

Looking with tenderness and warmth towards Lyanna's pretty little niece, Rhaegar tried to reassure the well-being of Aegon, Bran and Benjen.

"Answering your original question, my byka sōnar dārilaros, I think we will have some news from them soon." Rhaegar told her in his warmest and sweetest voice.

"Hey! We're not in lessons!" Arya responded to the way in which Rhaegar had chosen to address to Arya in High Valyrian 'His little winter princess'

Arya's response caused laughter among those present at the table, already used to the ways of her

sometimes adorable niece. Rhaegar took advantage of the calming of laughter and humorous comments, to continue reassuring Arya about the state in which the family that had departed north of the wall would be.

"It's been more than a week since the departed. Counting on them making long stops like we did to come here, they may have already covered great distances. And from Aegon's descriptions, it was a place that from the height of a dragon should be hard to miss." the tone her husband Rhaegar voice, as always with Arya, was melodious and metallic, inspiring confidence talking.

With Arya, Lya's husband showed a tenderness in the gestures and forms, that except with Lyanna herself or when Rhaegar spoke of Rhaenys, he seemed unable to show. 'If I see Arya as a little sister, there is no doubt that Rhaegar sees her as a little daughter. When he teaches her lessons with the sword, he always restrains himself, something he does not do with me.' At that thought, her heart melted as Lya imagined having a daughter of her own with Rhaegar.

Although the idea of going through childbirth again, it was something that sincerely terrified her so much, that was one of the reasons why she had not yet sought any intimacy with Rhaegar.

'What happen if I can't give him more children? We only know for sure, that Aegon and Rhaegar remain alive to be able to prolong with the centenary dynasty. I cannot again be a reason to drive the Targaryen to the brink of their extinction.' It was a thought that had become recursive since the first afternoon after her return to life, when she saw Rhaegar practicing with her nephew Bran, and it was something that was practically taking her to the edge of inner madness.

'Since I have come back to life I am more like Rhaegar before his death than he is now. I spend the day thinking about everything that could go wrong and everything that went wrong ... what happens if it happens again, what happens if we die again?' try as she might, there were times when these thoughts practically blocked her.

Fortunately, the torrent of daily activity in which they had been immersed since their return to life, allowed Lyanna to hide her internal fears as fatigue and re-accustoming to life. 'But I don't know how long it will take for me to explode and release everything that is inside me'

Without possibly anyone except Maester Aemon noticing, she sighed and steeled her position, noticing that by mentioning the word dragon the two recruits and the brother from the neighboring table had joined at the end of their own table.

These were the other members of their informal routine; Edd, Grenn, and Pyp. And they were looking at Lya's husband in the same way that Ser Jaremy, Ser Alliser, young Tarly and even Maester Aemon himself looked at Rhaegar.

"Well, since no one asks him, I'll be the one to do it. If later his excellence gives me as dinner for the enormous orange beast and the leftovers for his wife's wolf you know it's your fault" said in a scathing and cynical tone Dolorous Edd, as he looked askance towards Grenn and Pyp. After that, the black brother cleared his throat, looked at Rhaegar and bowed the head slightly, which Rhaegar returned by raising his horn with the unpalatable ale of the Night's Watch.

The brothers, relaxed after dinner and with a few mugs of ale on top 'The only way to tolerate the ale and mead from the Wall is to drink so much of it that you wouldn't notice the donkey piss you are drinking' began to sing provocative and typical songs from Westeros.

Dareon, one of the new sworn brothers, with little to none talent for music and as a bard in Lyanna's opinion, had a lute that he did not hesitate to use to liven up the evening with a song so well known in all corners of the continent as was the bear and the maid. This was followed by a

round of "Yayyyy" by the drunker brothers of the watch.

" A bear there was,

A bear, a bear ... "

Now Edd had to clear his throat and raise the volume of his voice in order to continue with the question he intended to ask, due to the increasing cacophony in the Castle Black mess hall courtesy of those who joined the song sung by Dareon.

"Your Excellence, I think I speak on behalf of everyone at this table. What does it feel like when one is on top of such creatures?" Edd asked with a certain fascination on his face, something that was imitated by almost everyone present at the long table, except for Arya and her.

"All black and brown

And covered in hair "

"My good Edd, the truth is that I could not answer that question exactly, because I am very afraid that even neither my niece, nor my wife, who have been on the back of one of the dragons would be able to explain the sensations experienced by being flying at more than two thousand meters high." said Lyanna's husband with a relaxed and slippery voice, something totally unusual for him. 'It is clear that I am not the only one who today wants the head to take the night off thanks to the ale or mead. Between the colors of Rhae's cheeks and his thick tongue when speaks, I could tell that Rhaegar has drunk enough to be a little tipsy.' Lyanna thought as Rhaegar looked first at Arya and then to her, as if searching for an assertion of what he was saying.

"Three boys, a goat

And a dancing bear They danced and spun Up to the fair "

"I don't know my niece, or my husband, but I at least know that it is something indescribable. It is a mixture of infinite power and freedom... It is like owning the world in your hand. Sadly, unlike as with our wolves, dragons have any bond with Arya or me, so I take it for granted that both His Grace my son, and here His Excellence, my husband, must be better able to explain that bond. Isn't that so Rhaegar?" she asked her husband, with a raised eyebrow. 'They have asked him, to answer him.'

"How sweet she was And pure and fair The maid with honey Up in her hair "

"Without a doubt, my wife is right. But honestly, it is something inexplicable. I can only say that I can understand why it is said that the lords of Old Valyria did not answer to men, nor to Gods." Said Rhaegar, with a half smile and opening his arms forward. Meanwhile, Rhaegar's eyes roamed those present at the table, seeing that the answer did not really answer them anything, he decided to continue with his explanation.

"I have smelled her all On the summer air The maid with honey Up in her hair "

"By bonding with a dragon, you do it for life. And it is a connection that at times is even scary to have, due to the destructive power that it is capable of generate and that nurtures you. We've all seen the Black Dread, or at least everyone here except for Sam. Seeing it, the destruction it caused in Harrenhal is understandable ... I don't even want to imagine the hell into what they turned the Field of Fire between the three dragons." Rhaegar finished making a grimace of feigned pain, causing the members of the table to fall into reflexive silence.

'I have no doubt that Rhaegar has some reluctance about the Conqueror's actions. Reluctance that he certainly extends to our Aegon's.' she thought when remembered the pale face that put her husband the first night in their back to life, when Aegon accused Rhaegar of not solving the problem from the Kingdoms by being soft when dealing with the Great Westerosi Nobility.

'My son is much more ruthless than his father. The calm and normality in which he spoke about the fate of houses Hoare, Durradon and Gardener still gives me chills when remembering it...' But also was a thought about how far Aegon could go to ensure their triumph and the family protection 'Unfortunately for all us, our future victory is closely related to our survival and the destruction of our enemies. And that is something very clear to Aegon. I don't know if Rhaegar will have it so clear.'

"From there to here From here to there All black and brown And covered in hair "

"Dear nephew, I notice certain contempt for what our ancestor did, or as he claims, your own son, in Harrenhal and in the Field of Fire. But what would you have done instead? Is it better to kill tens of thousands of soldiers, mostly low-born people and peasants who change the hoe for the spear, or is it preferable to set a precedent by way of warning to avoid massacres in the future?" Maester Aemon asked with a serious face, but not without affection. There was no reproach in his words.

Lyanna could sense that the maester was genuinely curious to know how Rhaegar would have acted in the situations that the Conqueror faced. Both Ser Alliser and Ser Jaremy seemed to have a keen interest in the answer as well.

"Uncle, I have not faced such situations ..." tried to explain Rhaegar, but it seemed that his elderly great-uncle wanted to give a little lesson to Rhaegar 'Unbeknownst to him, increasing my sense of guilt for the failure of my husband ... If it had not been for me ... Rhaegar would have been King before the Rebellion broke out, having a position of greater power than he had when he headed towards the Trident.' Lyanna bitterly thought to herself, as she moved uncomfortably on the bench.

"Alas! you are wrong my dear nephew! Sixteen years ago you were in the same situation and it seems that your methods were not as effective as those of the Conqueror ... Maybe you forgot that the price of rule is that you cannot stay good with everyone and that all action you take, it will be put in question. Although I defend peace, I have no doubt that I would have taken the same

resolution as my young nephew Aegon before Harren the Black." said the old maester, causing a tense silence at the table, only broken by the noise that caused the end of the song that Dareon was singing.

"He smelled that girl In summer air The bear, the bear And maiden fair Oh i'm a maid And I'm pure and fair I'll never dance With a hairy bear " "Yaaay"

Seeing the general degeneration in the mood of the hall, Lyanna decided to take the opportunity to leave the common mess hall and cool off in the night air next to the Wall, under the pretext of accompanying her niece Arya and her great-uncle-in-law to their respective rooms so that the former could resume her studies and the second will rest after a long day.

After that, she would return to be with her husband and the brothers of the Watch at the mess hall. 'Today I don't have the mind to dedicate myself to learning one more noble westerosi house. Maybe it's not a bad day to drown my sorrows in ale.' Lya thought as she looked for a way to stop feeling that anxiety and angst that was consuming her from within.

When she returned to the mess hall, the atmosphere before distended was now totally festive. Almost all of the black brothers were totally drunk, taking advantage at the absence from most of the hierarchy. Ser Jaremy and Ser Alliser had retired, as had the Lord Commander and the Lord Steward. The First Builder was in a heated conversation with the master armorer Donal Noye, while some brothers sang the song that was playing in the background; song that for Lyanna's surprise was being sung by her husband Rhaegar, who had taken the lute of Dareon and was finishing the sassy, but sad song of the Dornishman's Wife.

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,

the Dornishman's taken my life,

But what does it matter, for all men must die ..."

Realizing that she had returned to the mess Hall again, sitting next to young Tarly, her husband stopped playing the song he was singing.

Posing sweetly those two black wells of ink that Rhaegar had for eyes on her, with a metallic voice, but at the same time melodious, Rhaegar began to sing an old and sad song, which plunged the mess hall into the most absolute silence. Each chord that came out of the lute, was one impregnated with sadness;

"Hear you now the sad lament of Brave Young Danny Flint

Whose parents died of sickness, when she was not but ten

So off Young Danny went to live, with her wicked uncle

Who one night stole her maidenhead so into the North she fled

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape The Fate the Gods have written And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

North she fled to take the Black and leave her troubles past

She cut her hair and changed her name to Danny Flint the Brave.

At the Night Fort Danny took the oath thought a boy by all

And she hoped to live forever as a Brother upon the Wall.

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape The Fate the Gods have written And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

Now Danny was so diligent to keep from watchful stares

But one night as she bathed her Brothers saw her body bare.

These men were quick to break their vows as they threw her to the ground They took her honor then her life while Danny made not a sound.

Oh Danny Flint there's no escape The Fate the Gods have written And life does seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

It's said Young Danny still yet walks The Night Fort's shadowy halls, A pale form singing sorrowfully the loneliest saddest song."

With the song, all the pain that she had accumulated inside her, threatened to break the internal dams that Lyanna had been building during the last twelve days of her new life. Flashing before her eyes, she couldn't help but remember everything that had happened in her previous life since the Tourney of Harrenhal onwards till her death... Guilt, anxiety, overwhelm, doubts and fear caused Lyanna not to be able to bear being in the room anymore time.

Lyanna scrambled up from the bench, trying to hold back the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. She practically ran out of the mess hall, not even knowing where she was going, until suddenly ran into Winter, who looked from the blood on the fur around her muzzle, had been hunting. When Lyanna saw her she-wolf, she couldn't help but hug her as if were a life-line.

When she calmed down a bit, she received a lick on her face, which served as a signal to get up from the snowy ground on which she was kneeling.

Together with her furry and faithful companion, went to the King's Tower again, where to Lya's surprise, Ser Jaremy Rykker was at the door guarding her niece Arya.

When he saw her, he bowed his head slightly, opening the door that gave access to the damp old stone staircase to the rooms. Winter stayed on the other side of the door along with the exiled knight.

When Lya finished ascending the stairs and reaching the room where the three of them slept, she found that her niece Arya was deep sleep on mountains of parchments and books on the table that served as a desk. At her feet, the three pups were also completely asleep. Trying not to wake Arya, Lyanna grabbed her as gently as she could and laid her on the bed, then headed to the window to look into the cold night sky.

Lya needed to clear up somehow. Her head was boiling; If it was difficult for her to understand the situation in which she found herself after her strange come back, to find herself suddenly at the Wall waiting to heard from her son, her nephew and her brother, together with all the memories and sorrows the song that Rhaegar had intoned awoke in her, it had caused a pain in her heart that she did not know she could have.

'The fear of not being able to have more children with Rhae, the fear of losing Aegon again or that he does not even need me are dead weights on my soul' reflected as she realized that without wanting to, she had begun to cry almost inconsolably.

She couldn't help feeling weak. She couldn't stop crying, but by all the gods, she couldn't tell if she was crying over Danny Flint's song, if she was crying over her death fifteen years ago, if she was crying over the death of her family and friends or if she was crying for what awaited them on the road ahead. All she knew was that she was scared and afraid of what the future and fate might bring. The only thing Lyanna knew is that she wanted her son to return and all that she knew was that she was afraid.

A few thumps drew her attention to the courtyard, where a figure wrapped in a black cloak with hood over the head, seemed to be lifting an object much heavier than could lift.

Lyanna knew that in her state of mind she would not be able to sleep, so she went to the stay attached to the rooms, where Rhaegar had established a kind of King's solar. But when she opened the door, her husband was not asleep wrapped in parchments and books. There was no one.

'I'd better see if Ser Jaremy is down there to come with me for a ride. Maybe the cool will refresh me up and paralyze my grief.'

Coming down the stairs, Lyanna could hear Ser Jaremy speaking from the other side of the door to someone she couldn't identify.

"You should have seen Renfred's face when I made that jape ..."

At the door opening from within, the black brother immediately fell silent. Seeing the scene, Lyanna understood why. 'It seems that Winter knows how to make friends with ease.' she thought inquisitive as contemplated her massive she-wolf sitting on its hindquarters, looking intently at Ser Jaremy, tongue lolling out and ears raised at the Crownlands knight.

"My princess... I didn't expect you to come out again for this night ..." an embarrassed Ser Jaremy immediately said with a trembling voice, then looked down at the ground, trying to camouflage the colors that had risen to his face. "Generally, your she-wolf usually comes at night ... and has turned out to be the female who has endured me the most in my life HA!" Ser Jaremy laughed not without

sadness.

"I see ... Well, if at any time you can get married, don't worry that I will try to intercede on your behalf with your beloved." she responded warmly and suggestively. Quickly recovering from her internal conflict, Lyanna decided that because she was bitter and angry with life, she didn't have to pay it with Rykker.

"By any chance you have any idea where my husband is?" Lyanna asked the knight.

The knight, instead of answering anything, directed his chin towards the courtyard of the castle, from which came a thud.

Nodding her head to the Crownlands knight, she headed there and saw that Ser Jaremy was staying with Winter at the door of the King's Tower, so Lyanna immediately deduced that the one in the courtyard was Rhaegar.

When Lyanna arrived, saw Rhaegar with a kind of giant hammer, which he barely could lift beyond his waist, for then fell to the ground, where he was beginning to make a hole. 'I already understand what it was that thump noise that was heard and who the black hooded figure is.'

"Rhae!" Lyanna said louder than she initially intended, drawing Rhaegar's attention to her. Her husband immediately released the handle of the huge hammer, which remained perpendicular to the ground from the weight of its head.

Totally shaken and almost out of breath, Rhaegar looked at her and then where Lyanna was looking. With a totally relaxed attitude, far different from the image he used to show, with an almost innocent voice that still showed a certain excess of ale, Lya's love quickly explained what he was doing.

"I don't know if you've seen the scene between the first builder and Donal Noye... the point is that I asked the master armorer this morning if he could make me a hammer like the one he made Robert... that way I can train my muscles and be at least a little stronger ..." her husband sighed and seemed to lose his gaze for a moment in the void, then to fix his gaze on her again.

"You should have seen it Lya ... I pierced him from shoulder to hip with my sword, but it looked like a mere scratch ... And from what Noye told me, his warhammer was even heavier than this ... I'm terrified to fail again ... It seems that those who now know the truth after the Rebellion, the only thing they do is judge me as incapable and soft... you have already seen the opinion of our son and my uncle Aemon... " after which Rhaegar let out a totally resigned sigh as she had never seen him do before. His voice carried a mixture of despondency and guilt. His bodily demeanor screamed defeat.

"Rhae, I'm scared and afraid for our son! I am panicky for our future and the situation that awaits us! I don't expect it to be a bed of roses. I'm very afraid that it will cost us a lot of blood to reach our goals and then, the Gods have mercy on us then! Although I hope you and Aegon are wrong, we will have to fight the fucking Death!" she said crying, with a shrill voice, releasing everything she had inside, while she clasped her hands between them to bring them to her head. 'Rhaegar is not the only one who is not knowing how to adapt to being alive again. And he's complaining about nonsense while I'm distraught and overwhelmed'

"It was stupid to sang Danny Flint." Rhaegar tried to apologize tenderly, as he approached her until they were face to face the two of them. In this way Rhaegar forced her to have to look up to look into his eyes, that were about to cry "forgive me for just dumping all my frustrations on you"

'It seems that I am not the only one who was about to explode' she consoled herself a little internally when she appreciated her husband's state of mind.

"It wasn't the best choice for a song in the Wall after returning among livings, but that was not the reason that I ran out of the common mess hall, or the reason of everything I just told you. Sometimes I think I just couldn't handle everything that happened since the tourney at Harrenhal's until today" she said between sobs, feeling guilty that her husband now thought that she didn't love him anymore.

Staring at him, as she intertwined her fingers over and over again, she asked him the question that ever since she saw him train with Bran was so afraid to do.

"Do you think that one day I will be able to have another son or a daughter? Do you think I would survive another birth or would die again?" she was finally honest with her husband, revealing her innermost dread 'Being the cause of the end of the Targaryen dynasty by being unable to do the only thing a woman should do: give to birth.'

"Lya, even if you don't give me any more children, you are everything I needed, need or will need. I love you, I loved you and I will always love you. Even if only Aegon turns out to be the fruit of our love, that will not make you more or less in my eyes." Rhaegar said in low tone, but with all the warmth he was able to gather, at the same time that gently grabbed her hands between his and raised them to the level of his mouth, with which Rhaegar began to give her sweet kisses.

"I never loved you as a broodmare. I have always loved you, I love you and I will love you, for your will of steel, your tenderness, your kind heart, your blunt honesty, your adventurous spirit and for your wild and passionate side. You are the Ice of my Fire, although really being as we are, I should say it's the other way around." Rhaegar finished in a tone of adoration, with a smile that was more dangerous than the three dragons put together. His eyes seemed to emit sparks when they fixed on hers.

"Well, enough worrying and training. At this time you have to rest. We never know if tomorrow our son will come and we will continue with our journey." her husband finished before Lyanna could said anything to everything he had said.

He released her hands and headed for the armory and the forge to shed the armor he had donned. Lyanna discreetly accompanied him to help him, to do the tasks that the now absent Bran should do.

'Although I'm sure that without my help he could also take off his armor, it's something I want to do' convinced herself of the reasons for following Rhaegar. Lyanna slowly began to remove the pieces of her husband's armor.

First the greaves, then are the vambraces, shoulder pads and gorget. Finally, she debrided the black cape that was tied to Rhaegar's famous black polished steel breastplate, with the rampant three- headed dragon carved in glittering rubies. Beneath the armor, he had only tight black woolen breeches and a long black camisole like the one Aegon had on the night they came back to life. 'It is seen that Rhaegar liked it and had spoken with Sansa to have the same' Lyanna thought with a certain humor, seeing that even after coming back to life, her husband, although he will never admit it, continued to be quite flirtatious and careful with his personal image.

Rhaegar stared into her eyes as in a trance, as if he were seeing her for the first time in his life. Without really understanding why, she felt ashamed but at the same time she felt the heat and color rise to her head and face.

Before either of them could realize it, they were both embracing and passionately kissing. With fervor as if it were the first and last kiss of their lives.

At first, it's a skin-tight kiss. Rhaegar's mouth barely open against hers and she helplessly kisses him back, eyes squeezed and shoulders drawn up in tension. It's all and nothing, an unbearable sensation. Her knees went weak and she stumbles a little as he snakes an arm around her waist to hold her up.

Momentum carries them. He pulls her closer, her palms fly to press onto his chest and then all happen over before she knows it. Their lips part and the touch the tips of their tongues, flesh on flesh, muscle on muscle. She's really feeling alive for the first time since her come back from the crypts.

But it's not nearly enough to quench her thirst. Her deepest and lustful desire comes gasping to the front and she opens her mouth to let Rhaegar's tongue inside fully. The taste of is incredibly sweet and she makes this sighing, the yielding sound that breaks the barrier of caution and marks the start of something that makes Lyanna feel alive again.

It's all familiar, then not and then it's like almost sixteen years ago. It's still them, Lyanna and Rhaegar. She can swear she knows him by heart, because he's finally kissing her with the determined enthusiasm he puted in everything else he did before his death, and that is how she recognizes him again. With his fire always hidden, shining to the surface.

Rhaegar swirls his tongue around in her mouth, fingers raking the back of her scalp, she clutches him with all her strength, thrusting back with her tongue, almost savagely, teeth clashing and saliva mixing. And falling sighs and heavy breathe, until he moans into her mouth as he did it in the past. A sound so pretty, the most erotic cry of surrender she's ever heard. It's unbelievable that it is coming from him, raw, delicious, so low it echoes in her bones and it hurts exquisitely 'Don't, don't, don't ever stop' she thinks like a prayer, while easing her hands under Rhaegar's camisole, slipping it off from his shoulders.

Rhaegar rushes onward as if he can read her mind and who's to say he's not doing just that; without thinking twice, her husband lifted her in weight a little more forcefully than necessary and leaned her against the armory bench, causing the tools deposited in it to crash, her eyes going wide and then fluttering shut again.

He presses his body onto hers with a sound of flesh on fabric and, even through her clothes, she discovers the incredible heat of his skin. Then the kissing resumes and lengthens again, it goes back to a gnawing exploration of mouths, their heads lolling and turning against one another and their tongues wrestling, flailing away at each other. There is this blurred sea of faces dancing at the edge of her consciousness, a jury that would forever condemn theirs love, but everything is being washed away by the most obliterating surge of pleasure and she knows she'll already be wet by the time he even gets so far as to look at her cunt.

Her husband chooses that moment to extricate himself from the kiss, desperate to breathe, but he's restless; he lowers his head to bite at her neck, to kiss her against the pulse drumming under her jaw – open-mouthed, breathing her in, forcing her head up.

"Ah..." Lyanna's pant is loud and thick in the stillness of the armory. Rhaegar's erection is jutting out against her hipbone and she bucks vigorously against him, so ready, already wanting more and soon she can't hear anything; there's only a thin, tiny ringing in her ears. Yet she's sure he's whispering something against her throat, his teeth and wet breath grazing her skin, his hair tickling her jaw.

She can't make out the words; she can't hear him, or can't understand him, and she tells herself she'll have to ask him, but later, because now his hands are squeezing her ass, and then they're on her hips, on her sides and she feels him awkwardly begin to untie the strings of her skirt and tunic without stopping to kiss her on the neck, but without completely removing it.

She, totally uninhibited, took advantage of Rhaegar's problems with her skirt and tunic to bring Rhaegar's black leather breeches down to his knees. Seeing her intentions and her own state, her husband rid of her cloak and now he was yanking the collar of her tunic up around her shoulders and she's guiding him to lift it off over her head and when he finally throws it aside she looks to him, with her bare breast, her longs wool breeches and the boots are all her clothes now.

He returns her gaze from her and for seconds on end, everything stops.

"Rhaegar..." Lyanna said in a whisper. This time, his name sounds like rushed and desperate, half- broken in the middle and their movements become sharp, frantic: she pulls his hair and forces his face down against her chest; he finds a nipple, tiny and hard and he hungrily traps it between his teeth.

She gasps. Her entire spine goes rigid. The stab of pleasure strikes straight through her back, thrilling and swelling. His tongue passes swiftly all over her breasts and she makes a fist of his hair. He moans wordlessly and she grabs his muscular back, her nails sink into his bare skin, her other hand quickly grabs his cock and gives it a squeeze, burning thickness between her fingers.

Rhaegar's back arches into a shudder. Lyanna's entire body is thrumming with new energy, in her blood something is surging. Her grip becomes stronger and his head falls back, his hips jerk forward and she increases the rhythm, and his breath comes faster, and when he's about to shatter beneath her hands she releases her vice grip.

"Lyanna..." Rhaegar said to her with need and lust in his trembling voice.

He loses it and grinds on her at once, with a low growl, pushing her back flat to the bench and suddenly Rhaegar picked up a dagger that had been around the armory bench, and then cut the side of the groin of her gray wool breeches 'Damn, I'm going to have to sew myself as I can this ...'

She feels every inch of him on her skin, scorching hot, and she feels on fire hurting with lust and love and want, like her heart might explode out of her body when she lifts one leg, and he slips his hands under her butt and she can finally wrap her legs around his waist, tight, so tight. And with a guttural cry he lunges into her so easy, so damn perfect, once, twice, and again, slow, and hard, and then faster, faster and she moans, and cries, and kisses him hard.

Twisting her fingers in the muscles of his back, closing her eyes, calling his name, wishing, wishing, wishing this could never end, wishing the problems and the past could be absorbed with the same ease they merged into one being.

"Now, Rhaegar, now" She screams while she comes, hard, writhing and shaking apart against him and he comes within her with a keening sound that makes her feel high.

'Let's do it again' she wants to say, and 'yes, please' and 'Rhaegar, Rhaegar, Rhaegar'

Here, now, they feel solid and fluid all at once: a translucent fabric, gliding like a drop of mercury that can be seen and maybe touched. But there's only two forces of nature that can truly grasp it and bend it at will, and perhaps this is it, that is how they've ended up here, in this armory today, tangled in each other in this moment in time.

It would be the hour of the bat when they left the armory to return to the King's Tower. Everything was dark except for the candles that dimly illuminated the ancient and decrepit castle. Not a soul was to be seen except for the black brothers on duty at the top of the wall or at the beacons.

Suddenly Lyanna felt a chill run down her spine 'It will be from going from the heat we had in the armory to the cold that radiates from the wall' she thought, diminishing the bad feeling she had suddenly had.

"Auuuuuuu" sounded in the night silence the horn of the Watch at the top of the Wall. The tension that suddenly washed over Rhaegar and her to see if it was accompanied by more signals caused time to freeze. After a minute that seemed like an hour and there were no more signals from the horn, it was clear that some friend was coming from the other side of the Wall. This caused immediate relaxation for both of them, but when Lyanna instinctively looked up at the top of the wall, what she saw terrified her.

At five hundred meters high, Balerion's black shadow could be seen flying parallel to the Wall on route to the east, without Aegon on top and with a flock of crows flying over the frozen Wall.

"Aegon ..." was all she managed to say, before Lya's saw the ground suddenly approach her face.