This story is about Lyanna Baratheon the one true heir to the iron throne. The only true born child of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. About the ones she loves and the part that she plays in the great game. The Game of Thrones.
Rob, I'm so sorry about your father. I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am for your loss. He was a great man. Much like you. He was the only one who truly stood by my side and I couldn't even protect him. I tried to stop Joffrey but I couldn't. He's a monster. Your father had confirmed the rumours about my mother and uncle which means I am the rightful heir to iron throne. I ask that you join forces with me to end my brothers reign. I have tried to contact my uncle who has now aligned himself with the Tyrells in the west. But he believes that he should rule. My uncle Stannis also believes that he has a claim to the throne and I fear he won't believe a word I say. The young wolf. That's what they call you here in Kingslanding. I hear you haven't lost a battle yet. Good. I need men who can fight. Sansa is safe. She is with me and I am watching over her. No one will hurt her, I give you my word. It is with a heavy heart that i must say we cannot seem to locate Ayra. She has been missing since your fathers execution and my spies cannot find her. I've asked littlefinger to locate her for me and as soon as we find her I will personally bring her to you in exchange for my uncle Jamie. My mother will stop at nothing to get him back so hopefully I get to Ayra first. Make sure no one sees this letter. And Robb, forgive me. Love, Lyanna I seal the letter with my sigil and walk to met the man I've paid to deliver it for me. "Please, you must place this in the hands of Robb Stark and no one else. If anyone tries to steal it destroy it immediately and then return to me. Do you understand?" "Yes m'lady." He nods. "Well, then I guess you should go." He bows his head, mounts his horse and rides off. "Who would you need to be sending letters too that need to be hand delivered?" The voice startles me but it unrecognizable. "Have you never sent a love letter uncle?" I question. "Never one that I had someone deliver by hand." He pauses, "who was it too?" "Prince Trystane." I lie. "The boy from Dorne? Does he love you?" He questions. "Who knows, who cares." I shrug. "Why were you sending him a love letter then?" I don't answer, not really knowing what to say. "You're trying to leave aren't you?" "I just... I thought..." "I won't let you leave." "Why not?" "I need you here." "You'll be fine without me." "And what about Sansa?" He questions. "Joffrey will protect her." I state. "And who will protect her from Joffrey?" I just stare at the ground. Knowing he's right, no one but me could protect Sansa from him. I love that girl. I would die for her. "I just wanted to leave. I thought that if I could make an alliance with the Martells that I could" "You could what?" My uncle butts in. "Kill your family."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I have no family" I sniffle, "My own mother barely looks at me. my brother threatened to rape me." "What about me? Lyanna you know your mother loves you and" "Love?" I interrupt, "if that's what love is I don't want it." "People show love in many ways. Even if it doesn't seem like love." He takes my hand. I don't want to talk about love anymore, it just reminds me of Jon. "Will he kill me." "Stannis? Yes. Probably, he sees you as a threat to his claim." "I heard he travels with a red priestess and does whatever she says." "Yes that is true." "Hopefully she doesn't tell him to kill me." I smirk. He short of chuckles, "Hopefully not, though your head would still look beautiful on a pike." I nervously laugh thinking about the idea. "So who was the letter really too?" Tyrion asks. "You're a good actress Lyanna, but not that good." "I... I told you." I stutter. "It was to Robb Stark wasn't it?" I can't even look at him knowing my eyes have a hard time lying. "Lyanna what were you thinking? If your mother finds out." "She's not going to." "You better pray that letter doesn't get into the wrong hands." He says looking me in the eyes. "I don't pray anymore."
