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Wild Winter Roses

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Lyanna was in her room, getting ready for the king's arrival, which should be soon. She chose her best dress, with the Direwolf seal embroidered on it; her hairs were down, but she decided anyway to let some braided strands on the side over it, she will wear an overcloak.


As she was looking in the mirror, Lyanna hear a knock at the door and asked who it was, hearing his older brother's strong voice, from the other side. “Come in.”


Her brother was wearing a tunic with the Direwolf embroidered on it, and a fur cloak over his shoulders. His hairs were tied in a bun, and his beard was treated. She was sure that he was ready to claim some southern maiden ready to be deflowered, and she felt sick by this his behavior.


“Good Morning, little sister,” he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, before heading to the bed to sit. Since there wasn’t wine in her room, only water, he didn’t head straight to the table, but she was sure he has already drunk some goblets before getting ready. “I wanted to speak with you, before meeting the King and his retinue.”


“What is it?” she asked, sitting next to him on the bed.


She saw him struggling for a moment to find the right words, and that annoyed her, considering that usually he bluntly and straight to the point, but now he wasn’t.


Looking around, his gaze settled on the iron jug that contained the water, getting up, he went to fill a goblet, and with a breath, he drank all the contents, murmuring a "Fuck!' and then asking looking down, "Have you received any letters from Ned recently, Lya?”


“Besides the one of his return? No. Why I should have had?” she asked almost chuckling. “I’m sure Ned was quite busy during these years fighting against the Blackfyre and their allies.”


She saw him, beating his lower lips, for a moment, before passing his hand over his beard, saying, “Fuck! I will go straight to the point. Father has started the negotiations for your wedding.” And adding the next part very fast, that she barely understood, “Or to be more precise, everything is ready, and the wedding will take place in a moon.”


“What did you say?” asked Lyanna thinking she heard wrong.


“You heard me clearly, Lya,” he said, giving her the knowing look. Sighing he approaches her, and sitting on the bed he said, “I know what you are thinking at the moment, but he is a good man,” taking her hand and trying to reassure her, but Lyanna pulled immediately away,  feeling betrayed.  And getting up she moved away.


She couldn't believe that they already arranged this and especially behind her back. She didn't expect it. She didn't expect at all that her dear father would plan all this without informing her before. She was ready to go straight to her father's room, and demand some explanation, but Brandon stopped her by grabbing her upper arm, “Wait, Lya.”


“I want an explanation from him, Brandon. I deserve them.  He promised me that he wouldn't do this before talking to me, but now I found that he had already done them!” she shouted, freeing her arm from his grip, and heading to the bed. Sitting, she pulled up her knees, and wrapping her arms around them, buried her face, starting a silent cry.


“Lya,” her brother said, starting to stroke her back over her hair. “You know that he loves, little sister and that he is doing this for your own good.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, making her head lean on his chest. “Robert is a good man, Lya. He will treat you kindly, respect you, and-“


“Who?!” she asked immediately rising up and looking at him in the eyes.


“Lord Robert of House Baratheon. He is the Lord of Storm’s End and-“


“I know who he is. He grew up with Ned in the Vale under Lord Arryn’s care, and has fought with the Prince and Ned on the Stepstones,” she said.


“See, he is just like one of those heroes from your books. Your Targaryen Kings,” Brandon said smiling, and cleaning her tears with his thumb, “What was his name? Fuck, I don’t remember.”


“Daeron the Young Dragon. But he didn’t fuck women at every corner,” she said getting up and heading towards the window with her head full of different thoughts and scenarios. She heard how some ladies and servants whisper about him, and about his skills in bed.


“Where did you hear those lies?” he asked immediately and that was only confirming her worries and suspicions. Robert Baratheon was a bad man, just like Aegon the Unworthy. But turning towards her brother, Lyanna replied, in a confident way, “Doesn’t matter how I know this, but the worriedness in your voice only confirms my suspicions.”


He, sighing, approach her, “I told father that this wouldn’t work. You are too cleaver to believe the lies that I would tell you, not that I know how to lie.”


“Spit it up, Brandon,” she said, angrily turning towards him.


“Fuck!” her brother cursed under his breath, before stroking his beard, and saying. “He has a three and half years old daughter in the Vale, from a peasant woman.”


“So, father wanted to sell me to a whoremonger!” Lyanna shouted, making an angry gest with her arms.


“Don’t say this Lya. Father loves you and wants only the best for you. Robert is a good man and having a child before marrying doesn’t make him a whoremonger.”


“Once a whoremonger always a whoremonger!” shouted Lyanna with tears in the eyes, sitting on the floor next to the bed, pulling up her knees and hugging them, as she starts to sob. She didn’t want a life like did, like what Queen Naerys lived. A life chained to a man that the only things he will love would be drink, hunt, and whoring, especially whoring.


“Lya,” her brother said softly, but she pushed him away.


“Leave, Brandon! Go away and leave me alone!” she said between sobs, and sighing her brother left.


Now that she was alone, Lyanna laid on the floor in a curled position, sobbing. Her life would be over in a moon from now. Her life will end, chained to a whoremonger man.



On the King’s Road…


They were only a few miles away from Harrhenal, and for every mile they traveled, Rhaella could see the restlessness on the king's face, even though she did not know whether it was anxiety in meeting the lords, to unmask them, or anger caused by the recent discoveries. Surely Duskendale changed him completely, in many aspects, and she did not know if it was in good or in bad.


But what she was grateful of, in this new change was that he no longer abuses her. After the revelation that it was Pycelle to make her lose the babies and especially the one to poison them, he went back to the carrying brother that she knew when Shaena died when he comforted her for the first children she has lost.


Remembering her dead daughter, Rhaella felt her blood boil, and her anger rise. She will be the one to burn Pycelle alive when the right moment will come and fuck lords and Westeros if they will call her the Mad Queen. He needs to pay and suffer for what he did to her children.


“Why so thoughtful, my queen?" Aerys asked and offered her a goblet of wine, which she took, although she was not a great lover of it, but with Aerys it was better to please him. "Well?"


“Was thinking about Pycelle. I want to burn him alive for what he did to our children.”


“To our children, to our parents, and with him the Lannister will go down,” Aerys said with venom, sitting next to her, as the wheelhouse was moving and making him lose balance. Rhaegar and his companions were riding on horses, but the king decides to ride with her and Viserys. He said it was to make think the lord that he was weak. “Tywin Lannister will pay for what he did to Steffon.”


“You trusted Steffon, but why don't you trust his son?" she asked taking a sip.


“Pha. Who? That mad stag that our son calls a brother in arms. He will stab us in the back the moment it benefits him the best.”


“What do you mean?”


“Oh, Rhaella, don't force your little head into things you can't understand,” he said.


She knew that she should not push for this argument to continue, since he could very well burst in anger and mistreat her like in the past, but being bolder now and since she showed him that she was on his side,  Rhaella said, “I thought we are on the same side in this, and that now you trust me. “


“Oh, I trust you sweet Rhaella, and I think now that Steffon is dead you are the only one that I can trust but understanding this goes beyond your intelligence.”


“Oh, don't worry about my intelligence, brother. I can understand many things that you would think I don't.”


“You are starting to get bolder, sister. Maybe you forget that I’m the king and you only a queen consort.”


“Oh, I never forgot that your grace,” she replied, placing the hand on his thigh, trying another approach to get her answers.  Starting to raise her hand up towards his manhood she said, “I thought when we found out the truth, we decided to be together in this. As one.”


“Using seduction won't make you get the answer,” he said grabbing her jaw and looking in the eyes. It was a dangerous thing the one she was doing since he could burst at any moment, and she knew it.


“Are you sure, my king?” she asked placing her hand on his manhood, making him jolt, before continuing, “As far as I know, that's the easiest way to get answers from a man.”


Silence dropped over them as she rubbed her hand on it, feeling him grow harder, but he, stopping her, said, “You are clever, sweet sister, but not as clever as you think.”


She said nothing to that withdrawing her hand, not wanting to insist. She was defeated in this argue, however before she could move away, he grabbed her arm, saying, “I did not say that I wasn't going to fuck you.”


“I don't think this is the best place for that, my king. And our son is lying a few inches from us,” she said, trying to change his mind on this, though she knew it was for nothing.


“Oh, but you can still suck me,” he said, opening his robe. “I’m sure the boy will understand that it's a wife's duty what you are doing.”


 She didn't reply, only swallowed before bending down. However, before starting, she asked, “What is the real reason behind the tourney?”





All the lords that have come were gathered in the great yard of this massive fortress to welcome the king.  There were the hosting House, lord Whent, his wife, his sons and his daughter, a real beauty and still a maiden, who was the queen of love and beauty of the tourney before someone else will be crowned.


Then there were all the other lords from the Riverlands, including Hoster Tully with his only daughter, Lysa, since Catelyn, who was the woman he was supposed to marry, died recently, and of course, there was that fool of his son, Edmure.


Then there were some of the main lords from the Stormlands, who were waiting for Robert of course. HE himself couldn't wait to meet his future brother in law and maybe put to test his skills as a warrior.


And there was Dorne, or to be precise some of them. Princess Elia, still unwed, but there were whispers regarding her imminent marriage, though he didn’t know to who since some whisper said she was going to marry a sea Lord, other that she would marry Baelor Hightower. Brandon won’t deny that she was a beautiful woman, and if her land had something to offer, he may have proposed her as a match for him, but anyway, he didn’t know who he will marry. The Princess was accompanied by her cunt of a brother, Oberyn, then the Yronwood, and Ashara Dayne, whose beauty didn’t go unnoticed to Brandon.


The only ones who were late were the Lannister and the lords from the Reach, it seems.  He didn't expect for the great Tywin Lannister to came so late. He thought that he would try to make an alliance.


Glancing at his father, Brandon asked, “What is with that sour face, father? We aren't going to war.”


“With the mad king you never know when you are at peace or war,” replied, making him chuckle, hand heard him ask, “Did the meeting with Lya went so bad?”


Before Brandon could give an answer, they could hear a commotion from the gates and saw them coming. The knights that were holding the three heads dragon banner, followed by a group of men, wearing suits of gleaming black armour, with their helms crested by a row of dragon scales that continued down their backs, diminishing downwards. After them, he saw three Kingsguard riding on, in their shining white armour and the emblem of the dragon on their chest. Followed immediately by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon, and his brother Ned, that Brandon couldn't wait to hug again, or give a pack on the shoulder. After that, he saw the great carriage dragged by 6 horses, where inside there was the Queen the King and maybe Prince Viserys.


When they all stopped and climbed down, Brandon saw the door of the carriage open and came out the king. Everyone bends the knee immediately, and Brandon could see, looking under the eyebrows the king stretch before approaching the hosting lord.


“Harrhenal is your, my king,” said Lord Whent.


“Yes, yes. You may rise,” he said loudly, and Brandon now looked better at him. The story didn't give him justice, it seems since they were saying that he had long nails and yellow fingers, long hairs and beard, but what he was seeing was something else.


Then Brandon’s eyes fell on the queen, still very beautiful, who has her hairs down, treated but some locks braided. She was wearing a dress with the colour of House Targaryen and a fur cloak over her shoulder with the same colour. Next to her, the queen was holding the little prince's hand, a spitting image of his brother, as she approached lord Whent to greet him.


“Well, well, well, I see that you decide to pull the head out of the snow,  Stark,” the king said, approaching, and turning to him, the King said, “You must be the one that the ladies call the Wild Wolf, eh?”


Brandon smiled but cursing in his mind this fool of a king.  He couldn't wait for the moment when will come to crown a worthy one. Someone like Robert.


“I see your two sons but not your daughter, Lord Stark.  May I ask where she is?”


His father was confused by that and so was Brandon, but never less replied, “She wasn't feeling well your grace. I beg your forgiveness for that.”


“Yes, yes, I hope she will feel better during the tourney,” the king replied, with a smirk on his face, moving away.  


Then it come to the queen, and her father kissed her hand before she moved away. He could feel a coldness behind her, though, and judgment eyes. He wondered what she has, considering that the tales have always described her of good her, gentle, and of course warm.


“Lord Stark,” greeted them the young prince, drawing his attention from the queen. “I’m sorry if my father offended you with his words.”


“It was nothing, my prince,” his father said and the young prince, smiled, moving away. “What a buffoon,” murmured Brandon as his brother, Ned, approached them and he saw him looking at the crowd behind, for sure in searching of their sister, Lya.


“Father,” he great their Lord father with a hug, before turning his attention to him, “Brandon.”


“I see you're in good shape, little brother," said Brandon, laughing. "The war has benefited you, it seems." Receiving a sad chuckle from Ned, but before they could continue, the stag and Lord Arryn, approached them.


“Ah, Lord Stark. A pleasure to finally meet you,” the Lord of Storm’s End said, with a smile on his face. Damn, he was tall at least six and half feet, of pure muscle, with hair black and blue eyes, like the Targaryens. In a fight, Brandon was sure that how couldn’t win against the Stag, not even in a fistfight. Well, Lyanna has nothing to complain about. She got the best of the best from her stories with the Stag. For sure he is handsome than that little cunt of the Prince.

“Lord Baratheon,” his father clapped the arms with the young sad, “Where is your daughter Lyanna. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Oh, she too can’t wait to meet her. In fact, since we left Winterfell, has done nothing but ask about you,” his father replied, lying of course, but that lie seems to bring a huge laugh from the Stag. “But sadly, she isn’t feeling well do day.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get inside to drink and talk,” the Lord replied.





The feast for the king's arrival was rich lively and loud, with lords drinking, talking, and eating. And of course, those who were loudest were those of the King. His father sat at the big table, with his mother the queen, Lord Whent, and his wife.


This feast was only the first one that Lord When intending to with the approval of the King of course. He still couldn’t understand why he did this, especially secretly. Yes, it was a trap to lure Tywin Lannister out, but the lion of the Rock wasn’t her yet, and neither his daughter nor son who according to whispers he should have been betrothed to Lysa Tully. Toning, he wasn’t also in the mood to sing a song for the ladies, but maybe tomorrow, at the feast, he will sing a song.


His eyes then drifted to his cousin Robert who was kissing and groping a servant. What a disrespectful thing to do in front of Stark, but who doesn't see to mind it seems. The older stark brother was even laughing.


As he was looking around, Rhaegar’s eyes felt on a hooded girl near the entrance and whose presence it seems was unnoticed by those who were present, too drunk, or immersed in their conversations. Or in the case of his father, watching the lords and expecting a plot from them.


Despite the hood that covered her head, Rhaegar could notice how beautiful she was. Long brown hairs he could glimpse.

For a few moments, Rhaegar looked at her and realized that her gaze was fixed on someone inside the Great Hall. Robert Baratheon to be precise, and who was groping a servant girl, at the moment. Of course, she was looking at him. He was the epithet of the perfect rude warrior, that some women love. Or to be more precise his look.


But when she looked away from Robert and caught his gaze, Rhaegar felt a strange thing as he looked into her eyes. Something he had never felt before. And because of him thinking too much in his thoughts, the girl disappeared. But Rhaegar, looking first around and finding the perfect moment to leave the feast. This will give him the possibility to take air and be away from the lusting eyes of the ladies that were craving him.


Once outside Rhaegar took a long breath, feeling the cool air of the night fill his lungs, before releasing a sigh.


“Too much wine, my prince?” he heard a voice say, and turning around he saw that it was Eddard Stark, who was leaving the feast it seems. And right behind him, came the youngest of the Stark.


“I need some fresh air,” he replied looking around the courtyard in search of the hooded girl. “And you?”


“Wanted to go to visit the northern camp,” Eddard stark replied.   


“You must be Benjen Stark,” Rhaegar said, looking at the young boy, who smiling nodded giving a bow, and Rhaegar chuckled. “There is no need for that.” Then turning to the other brother, Rhaegar said, “Aren't you offended by his behavior?”


He caught the meaning behind his question and to who he was referring too, and replied, looking down, “Trying to stop him from groping or lying with the servants, would do nothing, we both know. But I’m sure that once he is married to her, he will become loyal and faithful to Lyanna.”


Rhaegar looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but the young stark bowed, leaving and heading towards the main gates.



Lyanna was walking through the camp of her father's bannerman, with a dagger at her hips, and wandering her looks around. Some men were drinking telling stories around a bonfire.


Suddenly, as she was walking, Lyanna hear laugh and noises coming from a tent that was near her, and immediately approach, seeing one of the bannermen of her father being mistreated, by three men. He was on the ground and the three young men were hitting him.


Lyanna pulled the hood immediately down, as she run at them, shouting, “That’s my father’s men you are kicking!” Knocking down one of them, and grabbing the wood stick from another, hitting them too. They weren’t knights as she could clearly see. And once the three squires were kicked, they run away.


Turning to the young lord, whose name was Howland reed, Lyanna helped him up and move towards the tent of the Crannogmen.


“Why aren’t you at the King’s feast?” Lyanna asked, filing a bucket of water, and wetting a cloth, before starting to treat the lord’s wounds.


“I’m a Crannogmen, my Lady, the southern don’t like my people. And I don’t want to be there anyway,” the Lord replied, as she wet the cloth again. “And you, my Lady? Why are you here and not at the feast?”


Lyanna stopped for a moment, thinking of what to say. To lie or say the truth? She supposes, should said the truth, and return to the lord, she said, “This morning, my brother brought me the hateful news that I will soon have to get married. And a few moments ago, I saw that man groping a servant girl. Which I’m sure will fuck this night, or maybe even now he is fucking her.”


“I’m sorry. What is his name?”


“Robert Baratheon,” she replied, though didn’t go unnoticed to hear the sarcasm in his voice when he asked. “But may I ask why you are here, my lord. You don’t like the southern, you don’t like their feast and I’m sure you don’t like their tourney, so may I ask why you are here?”


“To bear witness to a song.”


“A song?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “And may I ask what song that is?”


“It’s the Song of Ice and Fire, my lady. A song old as this world, and that started to be forgotten. But soon it will be revived.”


“And I beat it will be Prince Rhaegar Targaryen the one to sing it,” she said chuckling and feeling her heart start to beat fast. She still remembers when she caught the prince's eyes before running away, all blushing and embarrassed. But she should forget that feeling she had at that moment. The man was betrothed to the Lioness of Castely Rock, and the only thing that was missing was the official announcement from the King.


“Yes, he will,” replied the lord, making Lyanna laugh, but before she could jokingly reply, they got interrupted by her brother, Ned, “What is happening here?”


“Ned. Already tired of the feast?” asked smiling, and teasingly.


“Wanted to get out and take some fresh air.”


“Of course, you wanted. Because you at a feast it’s like a wolf in a cage,” said Lyanna, jokingly, making her brother Benjen, who was right behind, giggle.


“Lord Reed? What happened to you?” asked Ned, approaching the man.


“An unpleasant meeting with three southern squires,” replied the lord, wrapping his arms around his body.


“Did you saw the emblems?” her brother asked.


“I did,” replied Lyanna. “Frey, Blount, and Haigh. We should help lord reed in taking his revenge against those pompous and arrogant squires, by humiliating the knight they are serving.”


"Yes. Lya is right. You should challenge them in the jousting lists," Benjen suggested in excitement.


Howland Reed frowned, and she saw him considering it, but in the end, sighing he replied, "I cannot ride a horse with ease, and I've never practiced with a lance. I should not bring shame on my people."


“Ned. You should challenge them,” she said turning to her older brother, who immediately shook his head.

“I would gladly teach them a lesson, Lya, but we all know how it will end. The King would know that I’m the knight and he would most likely see that as a strike to him.”


“It should be you Lya,” said Benjen confidently. “You ride better than ned anyway.”


“Have you lost your mind, Ben? She will get hurt if she does.”


“Your brother is right, my lady. I couldn't bear it if you were hurt while defending my honor."


“She won’t. She will win, and she will be all right,” replied Benjen, eagerly, and she agreed with him.


“I need an armour, and horse,” she said, giving Ned the look that she knew, her brother could not resist and especially deny her anything.


Sighing, her older brother nodded, “I ill find you an armour-“


“And I will find you a horse. The best horse,” said his little brother eagerly. “And you will kick those southern asses.


She laughed at that hugging her brother, and hearing a groan, turned around, seeing Lord Reed get up, and give her a shiny bronze scale, triangle dangling from a piece of thread.


“A favor from the Neck, my lady. You won't find anything luckier than a crannogmen's token," he promised.



Next day...first day of the tourney...


“Are you sure you want to do this, Lyanna?” her brother Ned asked as Benjen was starting to help her wear the armour for the jousting.


“Well, someone needs to put in place those pompous and arrogant squires, and since no one of you wants to do, then I should take the lead.”


Her brother sighed, saying, “It’s not that I don’t want to take the parts of Lord Reed, it’s just that the King would know that it’s me the one to joust if I’m missing from our seat. The same would go for Brandon and for Benjen since he has already met us.”


Lyanna added nothing else, but she heard Lord Reed say, "You don't have to do this, my lady."


"Nonsense, Lord Reed. I am not afraid of them," Lyanna replied, wearing the helmet and leaving the tent.



“A great host of young sons of the lords around here, don't you agree, Ser Gerold?" said her husband the king, looking at the crowd of knights who were on the field ready to joust and win, to crown their beloved as the queen of love and beauty.


“Indeed, your grace. And maybe one of them may join the ranks of the Kingsguard,” replied the Lord Commander, receiving only an annoying noise from the king. Rhaella knew who he wanted to rise to the rank of the Kingsguard. Jaime Lannister. He wanted to take from Tywin Lannister the most precious thing before striking, he had said, but it seems that the old Lion has outplayed him on this, and Rhaella wasn’t surprised.


However, although his son was not here, his daughter, Cersei, was, and Rhaella could see the lust in her eyes towards her son Rhaegar. The girl was pure evilness and she was sure that will try to use everything she can to reach her goals.


The knights to open the Joust were the one of Lord Whent who defended their sister’s honor as Queen of love and beauty. They took their position and started to joust under the cheers of the crowd, and Rhaella didn’t miss the eager look her little boy, Viserys, had on his face. He always had been fascinated by this, more than Rhaegar at his age, but nevertheless, he was looking at his brother as a model figure to follow and she hoped that it would be that way, but the future was always uncertain.


Lord Whent sons got unhorsed easily by the southern knights from the Reach and by those from the vale who were far better rider than them.


Then it comes the time of Rhaegar to ride, and her heart was beating fast, as he charged at the opponent, Bronze Yohn, a man older and bigger than Rhaegar. She covered her eyes for a moment only to open them after the clash, seeing the old Lord on the ground, and her son smiling at her.


Rhaella released a sigh, smiling, and heard Viserys say eagerly, “Muña, muña. Rhāegār ērinagon."


Yes, ñuha zaldrītsos. Your brother won,” she said, smiling, and looking at the young ladies who were cheering for the Dragon Prince.



A few hours later…


After his victories of today, Rhaegar sat with his family on the stands, awaiting the next knight to joust. When the crowd started cheering, his gaze drifted to the side where the knight entered and heard whispers from the lords that were present, asking between themselves who this Mysterious knight was.


The knight wore a patchwork of ill-matched armour, no two pieces forged of the same steel, that sagged crudely over his slight frame. On his arm was a freshly-painted shield, bright with the image of a red-and-white Weirwood, its face curved with bleeding laughter. And Rhaegar started to wonder who this knight maybe. A young son of a lord, or maybe the famed Jaime Lannister who even though wasn’t officially present here, may have come in secret.


Stopping before the gathered knights on the side, the mysterious knight boldly pointed his cheap lance to three of them who Rhaegar clearly could recognize. They belong to Houses Frey, Haigh, and Blount. Cheers rang sharply in the stands, the people hungry for the mysterious knight's challenge.


Once the knight took their position, the flag waved and they charged at each other, dust flying up from the ground in plumes of red-brown. The tip of the mystery knight's lance forced its way into Ser Frey's chest, sending him flying backward in a swift moment. An easy victory against a weak opponent. The Frey weren’t known for their warrior skills, more likely for their ridiculous huts and the many women their Lord had.


The Frey brought forth his horse for ransom, but the Knight of the Laughing Tree cleared his throat, affecting his voice in a parody of deep tones and announced, "I do not want your ransom, knight. All I ask is that you teach your squire honor!"


Rhaegar could see a frown on the Frey’s face, but he took his horse, all the same, rounding on his frightened, squire. And now he wondered what all this is about, but he was that soon he will find.


The next knight that the Knight of the laughing Tree was facing bore the name and the colors of House Haigh, with the same outcome, although the Knight of the mysterious knight broke three lances against him before Haigh finally fell. When presented with his ransom, the Knight of the Laughing Tree declined once again and making the same request. Teach his knight honor. His father was starting to get restless about this, and murmuring loud enough, of treason and plots.


After this only one knight remained. The one from House Blount who, unlike the others, was of an impressive size, at least six feet tall and large in the shoulders and stomach. His armour was made to fit, to protect, and would serve him all the better for it.


Next to him, the Knight of the Laughing Tree looked small, an imp amongst giants. They bowed before the royal box, then galloped their separate ways, each readying themselves at their respective tilt ends. The flag waved, and the knights charged each other in a speed of dust. The mysterious knight's lance hit Ser Blount's chest.


The knights went back to their ends, waiting for the signal. This time, the mysterious knight's was much slower in thrusting his lance forward than the enemy and paid for it dearly when Ser Blount's lance swayed downward and slammed firmly into the ribs of the mystery knight, the lance shattering in a rain of wooden shards from the force of impact.


The crowd gasped at that, before being followed by wild cheers when the Knight of the Laughing Tree remained seated on his horse, though now considerably less straight. He trotted to his end of the tiltyard, slipping into position, as Blount was given a new lance.


Rhaegar had to give credit to this young knight who resisted an opponent much stronger than him. An event quite known around Westeros of the past when Ser Barristan faced his own at the age of ten, and of which stories Rhaegar was always fascinated.


When the flag waved again, the mystery knight surged forth on his horse, thighs tight around its body as they approached Ser Blount. The hooves were as loud as thunder, and when the Knight of the Laughing Tree guided his lance into the chest plate of his opponent, he emerged victoriously. The Knight of the Laughing Tree hunched over painfully on his horse as he took his victory, coming to a stop in front of the royal box, as the porcupine knight laid on the dirt ground.


The King, on the other hand, got up, and loudly said, “Will you show your face, mystery knight, so that the realm may witness your victory.”


The Knight shook his head in refusal, and after a bow, he rode away, with the king fuming in anger, a turning to him he said, “Go and find who this Knight is. Then bring me his head.”



After what happened on the field against the three knights, and hearing about the King’s wrath, Lyanna rode immediately to the Godswood to get rid of the armour before anyone finds out that she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree.


Lyanna started to pull down one by one the pieces of the armour, starting from the shield, then moving to the legs, but the most difficult part was the shoulders protections.


 As she finally removed the arms protectors, Lyanna heard a laughing of man voice, say, “Well, well, well, what we have here? A mare ready to be mounted.” She grabbed the dagger that she was carrying.


Turning around she saw at least six men, quite drunk, with swords at their hips but that apparently had no emblem embroidered on their tunics.


She looks at all of them, trying to find a way out but didn't know-how. If she had a sword, she may have a chance, but right now. She was sure that she didn't have.


“Who are you who dares to attack a defenseless girl?” Came a male voice from behind them, and two swords unleashed.  As they turned around, she glimpsed the sight of a man with silver-blonde hairs. The Prince. He found her.


“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked, and it seems that he didn’t recognize the Crown Prince.


“Who the fuck am I?” asked the voice of the man that came to help her. “Well, I think you will never find it.”


“Kill this fucker, boys,” said one turning his attention back to her, and Lyanna picking the shield from the ground and with the other, holding her dagger, she took her position.


When one of the men charged at her, he was immediately hit by a horse, and then immediately came another one, and Lyanna recognizes them as members of the Kingsguard.


When the leader charged at her, Lyanna immediately paired with the shield and being quicker than him, managed to stab him in the neck at the same time.


Looking around, she saw that all of the men were dead, and her savior approached her. Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen with his fellow companion, who, after having cleaned their swords, removed their helmets.


“Are you all right, my lady?” asked the prince with his beautiful voice, as he cleaned his sword, which she recognized as valyrian steel, of the blood.


Lyanna was so enchanted by the young Prince, that she could find her voice to reply. He looked so much like the Targaryen she read in the book. When the wind raised for a moment, his beautiful silver hairs waved in the air, making him even more handsome in her eyes.


But when his eyes fell on the shield, that she was carrying and Lyanna heard him ask in disbelieve, “You are the Knight of the laughing tree?”