The Emancipation of Rhaegar

Chapter 55

Homes

Dragonstone

Arianne stood, hands held in front of her, as Robert Baratheon's ship pulled into Dragonstone's harbour, docking next to the ship that had carried them from Kingslanding – the very same one taking them home soon. She had suggested to Rhaegar that she wanted to greet him, to have a conversation with him about his treatment of Lyanna, before he came to take her home. Though they hadn't spoken much in the last week, Arianne knew it was the least she could do for her.

"She's beautiful," Lyanna had stated, standing from the door, holding her own son in her hands. "They both are." She was referring to Valerion, who was sleeping in his cradle quietly.

Visenya, who was sat on her mother's lap as if she had heard her, let out a squeal. The little babe scratching her mother's nose in the process. Arianne laughed, moving her chubby hand away. "Isn't she just? I hope she and Jon are friends when they grow up."

Lyanna moved into the room, sitting down onto the bed next to Arianne. "Perhaps they will be betrothed," she sat Jon down to face Visenya. "What do you think my warrior? Will you ever be married?" Baby Jon cooed at his mother, staring at the babe in front of him quizzically. He had never seen another babe up close, much less one with white hair and purple eyes. Visenya's hair had grown from its wispy strands to loose curls, standing in six or so strands. He held out his hand, wanting to see what exactly was staring back at him. Visenya took his hand in hers and bit him, causing Jon to let out a wail. She didn't even have teeth yet, what was he crying about? Lyanna wondered, patting his bottom.

"Vivi!" Arianne scolded, moving her away from Jon.

Lyanna laughed, rubbing Jon's hand lovingly. "Oh, he'll be fine. No son of mine is going to let a girl better him." The two sat in silence, playing with their babes as they did so. They hadn't played in a long time, the last they had properly truly spoken was at Harrenhal. When Lyanna had told Arianne, she was growing to like Robert. "Can you believe we are mothers?" Lyanna asked her softly.

"I can't believe you are a mother," Arianne admitted. She had never attended many lessons with their Septa, and Arianne wondered how she had done it all alone up until now. Even she, the one who had gone to every single lesson on politics, history, lore, childbearing, stitching ... and so many more would be lost without the wet nurses and maids and her ladies-in-waiting.

Lyanna let out a scoff, "I couldn't be free forever, as your husband so kindly reminded me."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"The Prince?"

"Robert."

Lyanna bit her lip, "his whoring, his drunkenness, his ...-," she had nothing else to say. "I hate him because I never wanted to marry in the first place. He reminds me that I am a tool. You married for love, I married because Brandon and father thought it best, I marry. I would've grown to hate any man they had paired me with."

Arianne nodded in understanding, moving the demanding Visenya's hands away from her dress collar. "Sorry, she is so determined sometimes it's ridiculous. You don't mind, do you?" Lyanna shook her head in response. She took her breast from her dress and gave it to Visenya.

She saw the bruises and marks on her chest and brought her voice to a whisper. "Does the Prince hurt you?"

Arianne looked down to her chest and laughed, "no. We ... enjoy each other's company." She wasn't sure how else to word it.