The morning air was crisp, brushing against my cheeks with a slight chill as we stood at the grand entrance of the Red Keep. The atmosphere buzzed with the excitement of the hunt, a sport so beloved by the men of the court, especially Aemond and his faithful companion, Ser Criston Cole. I watched, a forced smile painted on my face, as they mounted their horses, the clattering of hooves against stone punctuating the air with promise and peril.
Aemond, clad in his hunting greens, looked every bit the gallant prince as he reined his steed close to where I stood. Leaning down from his saddle, he caught my hand, pressing a warm kiss to my fingers. "I'll return by dusk, my love," he assured me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of the unease that fluttered like a trapped bird within my chest.
"And I will be waiting, as always," I replied, managing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. There was a tightness in my chest, a foreboding sense that something was amiss, but I could not, would not burden him with such vague apprehensions as he headed out for the hunt.
As Aemond and Ser Criston rode off, their figures gradually shrinking in the distance, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Clutching my stomach discreetly, I turned to find Queen Alicent observing me with an astute gaze.
"You don't look well, Lyanna," she commented softly, her tone laced with genuine concern as the last of the hunting party disappeared from view.
Drawing a deep breath, I nodded slightly. "It's nothing serious, just a slight indisposition. I should have told him," I murmured, more to myself than to her, regret threading through my words.
Alicent stepped closer, her expression softening. "You are with child again, aren't you?" she guessed astutely, her eyes dropping to my hand still resting on my abdomen.
The directness of her observation made me pause, and for a moment, I considered denying it. But the futility of such a lie, especially to someone as perceptive as Alicent, stayed my tongue. "Yes, but it's very early days yet. I didn't want to worry Aemond before anything is certain."
Alicent's hand came to rest supportively on my shoulder. "A mother knows these things," she said, a smile touching her lips. "But you must take care, Lyanna. These early days are precarious, and you shouldn't be alone."
Her concern was a balm to my unsettled thoughts. "Thank you, Mother. I—I appreciate your care. It's just hard, keeping this a secret, even if it's only for a little while longer."
"Secrets have a weight, especially those carried close to the heart," Alicent acknowledged, her voice low. "If you need anything, remember you're not alone here. We are women bound by similar duties and, perhaps, similar fears."
Her words, meant to comfort, did soothe some part of my trepidation. As we turned back toward the safety of the castle, I felt a little less isolated with my secret, buoyed by the unexpected solidarity found in Alicent's company.
The day had worn on, each hour draped in the same tense quiet that often precedes a storm. As dusk approached, coloring the sky in shades of deepening azure and gold, my restlessness grew. Otto Hightower and I had spent much of the afternoon walking the courtyard, discussing the less contentious matters of the realm, a temporary truce in our usual dance of veiled intentions and political maneuvering.
"It is essential, Princess, that we continue to foster strong ties with all the great houses," Otto was saying, his voice smooth as he guided our path around the flowering beds that had begun to close up for the night.
"I understand, Lord Hand," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "And my House has always stood by the crown, in peace and in strife."
As the sun touched the horizon, a familiar clattering heralded the return of the hunting party. My heart leapt in my chest, the earlier unease momentarily forgotten as I saw Aemond and his men riding into the courtyard, their horses frothy and their spirits high. They had brought back several large boars, evidence of a successful hunt.
Aemond dismounted with agile grace and strode towards me, his face lit with a boyish grin. "Lyanna!" he called out, sweeping me into his arms as he reached me. His embrace was warm and reassuring, a safe haven that momentarily shielded me from the worries of the world.
"I missed you," I confessed, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
"And I, you," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. "Every moment away feels like an eternity."
Our reunion was abruptly interrupted by a commotion at the castle gates. "Open the gate!" a voice shouted urgently, and through the settling dust, I spotted the familiar seahorse sigil of House Velaryon fluttering on a banner. My heart sank; such haste boded ill news.
Ser Rickard, ever vigilant, stepped protectively in front of me, hand on his sword hilt, as the gate swung open to admit a lone rider. The figure dismounted with a haste that spoke of urgent tidings, his face grave as he approached us.
"Princess Lyanna," he said, bowing quickly. "I am Maester Elwin from Driftmark. I bring dire news—your father, Lord Corlys, has been badly injured. His life hangs in the balance."
The words struck me like a physical blow, my earlier premonitions now horrifyingly justified. I felt Aemond's arm tighten around me, offering silent support as the world seemed to spin dangerously.
Before I could even process the full extent of the news, Lord Otto Hightower's voice cut through the turmoil, each word sharp and precise. "In light of these events, it is crucial that a clear line of succession is established immediately."
His comment, so pointedly aimed at securing political advantage even in such a personal crisis, was more than I could bear. Overwhelmed by a mix of fear for my father and disgust at the council's opportunism, I acted on impulse. I turned away from the gathering, my dress swishing sharply as I moved. Grabbing the reins of a dapple grey mare tied nearby, I swung myself onto her back with a haste that startled even the seasoned stable hands.
Aemond, realizing what I intended, called out to me, "Lyanna!" But I was already spurring the horse forward, desperate for the solace I only found in the presence of my dragon, Meraxes.
Behind me, I heard the thunderous beat of hooves on cobblestone; Aemond had not hesitated to follow. We raced through the winding streets of the city, the cool evening air whipping past us, a brief respite from the stifling tension of the Red Keep.
The massive, shadowy form of the Dragonpit loomed before us as we approached, its ancient stones a silent testament to the power and peril of the creatures it housed. Dismounting swiftly, I hurried to the side where she decided to rest , my footsteps echoing in the vast, empty expanse.
Meraxes sensed my arrival and stirred, the sound of her massive body shifting in the darkness was both terrifying and comforting. His glowing eyes fixed on me, recognizing my distress.
"Aemond," I breathed out as he joined me, his presence a steady force at my back. "I just... I need a moment."
He nodded, understanding my need for this escape. "We will manage," he assured me, his voice firm. "Right now, you just take the time you need. I am here for you."
I moved closer to Meraxes, laying a hand on her massive snout. The warmth of his scales seeped into my skin, grounding me. Here, with my dragon, I found a rare moment of peace amidst the storm of court intrigues and personal fears. This powerful creature, born of fire and blood, was my ally in a world where alliances shifted more often than the winds.
As Meraxes nudged me gently, a silent offer of comfort, I allowed myself to draw strength from her presence. Here in the shadow of ancient stone and dragon might, I gathered the fortitude I would need to face whatever awaited me beyond the walls of the Dragonpit.
Back at the Red Keep, the weight of the castle's stone walls seemed to mirror the heaviness in Lyanna's heart. Aemond, sensing her distress, spoke gently as they approached the nursery where their children played under the watchful eyes of their caretakers.
"Seeing Maekar and Rhaella might lighten your heart, even if just for a moment," Aemond suggested, trying to offer a small comfort amidst the turmoil. "They have a way of making the world seem right again."
Lyanna managed a small, grateful smile. "Yes, their innocence is a balm. Thank you, Aemond, for bringing me back... for being here."
As they entered the nursery, the laughter and joy of their children momentarily pushed away the dark clouds hanging over Lyanna's spirit. But outside the nursery, the political storm continued to brew.
In a secluded corner of the courtyard, Lord Larys, Queen Alicent, and Lord Hand Otto Hightower were deep in conversation. As Lyanna and Aemond approached, their voices dropped to whispers, and the atmosphere tensed.
Otto was the first to address them, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and frustration. "Princess Lyanna, while we all share in your worry, you must remember the responsibilities you bear. Escaping to the Dragonpit was impulsive and dangerous."
Alicent stepped in before Lyanna could respond, her tone soothing as she placed a hand on Lyanna's shoulder. "Father, now is not the time. We must be her support, not her critics. Lyanna, we are here for you, not just as leaders, but as family."
Lyanna's eyes glistened with unshed tears, touched by Alicent's kindness but overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation. "I am torn, Your Grace," she confessed, her voice cracking. "Between my duty to my house and my love for my father. I fear not just for his life but for the stability of our realm."
Lord Larys, ever the tactician, watched Lyanna carefully, weighing his words. "Your father's condition places you in a precarious position, Princess. Your decision could sway the balance of power. We hope you consider the broader implications of your allegiance."
Lyanna looked from one to the other, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. "I need time to think, and to decide. Please, respect that. My loyalty to my family—both my father's and my children's—will guide my decision."
Alicent nodded understandingly, signaling an end to the pressing conversation. "Of course, Lyanna. Take all the time you need. We are here, whenever you are ready to talk."
As the group dispersed, Lyanna felt the solitude of her position more acutely than ever. While the comfort of her children could soothe her heart for a moment, the decisions looming before her threatened to break it entirely.