GoT: The Blessed and the Cursed

Three days and a moon after the raven informing them about the death of their King arrived, on a very breezy morning, Ser Gerold Hightower, Commander of the Kingsguard of the late Aerys II Targaryen, was sitting atop a stone, whetting his longsword, when he caught sight of four riders heading their way. 

"They shouldn't be here for another three weeks," He frowned but stood up and picked up his helm. 

Ser Oswell Whent was already waiting for him at the foot of the Tower, and the two Knights glanced at each other before they donned their helm and drew their swords, waiting for their enemies. 

However, the moment the horses slowed down as they climbed the steep path, the two finally saw who was leading the group, and a bright smile broke on Oswell's face at the sight of his Sworn Brother. 

"Arthur!" 

Ser Gerold, however, narrowed his eyes at the other three people and went down on his knee as soon as the smallest figure jumped off the horse. 

"Your Grace!" 

Hearing his words, the other Knight's eyes widened, and holding back his tears, the Knight knelt again. 

"Your Grace!" 

Azaerys smiled at them and then pulled off his hood. 

"Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell." He greeted them. "Please, stand." 

The two Kingsguards stood up, and Arthur smiled as he walked over and hugged Oswell and Gerold. 

Rykker, who was great friends with Oswell as well, was pleased to see him again, just as much as he was shocked. 

What were Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold doing here?

However, the dark-haired Knight did not voice any questions about their presence at the tower. 

"How's she?" Azaerys asked as he walked past the Knights, who soon followed him, and even though they were surprised at his question, Ser Oswell quickly answered. 

"She's grief-stricken ever since the news from the Trident reached us. Her health has suffered a lot, and she has grown so weak that the nurses fear a difficult labour. If this continues, she is not going to survive the childbirth." 

"Why did you reveal the news to her?" He asked, and both the Knights lowered their heads. 

"The Princess is too wilful, Your Grace. She was the one who received the Raven, thinking that it was a message from the Prince." Gerold told him, and he nodded his head and no longer asked any more questions. 

The maids and nurses at the Tower were shocked to see the silver-blonde boy, and even though they did not know who he was, his features loudly announced that he was a Targaryen. Not to mention the Knights, who were protectively following him. 

Their group stopped after arriving at the top, where a large chamber was located, and only Azaerys stepped forward to knock on it before he entered. 

His eyes soon found a lady, around seventeen years old, lying on the bed with a fever as the maid used wet clothes to control her temperature. 

And in her stupor, she briefly opened her eyes, which soon widened in shock at the sight of him. 

It was not the first time they were meeting, they had met at the Tourney. However, unlike last time, Lyanna was very restless to see him today. 

"Azaerys..." 

"It is 'Your Gace' to you, Lady Lyanna." He lightly said in an indifferent tone.

His cold words brought tears to her eyes, which soon poured out as she failed to control her emotions in the state she was in. 

He blamed her...

However, the next question froze her. 

"Do you want to kill my brother?" He asked. "I understand that you no longer wish to live after my Father's death. I am fine with that. However, if you kill my brother because you can not control your emotions, I will send your body to the Usurper, who will bury you close to him and visit your grave every day. Don't you think it will move the poets to write about your tragic love story? Do you wish to be remembered as Robert's Lyanna?" He darkly asked. "I hope not," and playfully continued, "Oh, and I will have your older brother slain as well. He is on his way here."  

"No!" Lyanna panicked at his words, and the Young Prince sighed before he walked over to her and cupped her cheeks. "Father would be disappointed in you for being so weak, Lyanna. He did not fall in love with a girl who would show no care to the child in her womb." 

She lowered her eyes in shame and cried some more. 

"What do you plan on naming him?" He curiously asked, looking at her big belly.

"Visenya." 

"Visenya?" He laughed, and there was just something about his laughter that could wash away the sorrows. "I refuse to have a brother named Visenya!" 

Despite herself, a giggle escaped her lips along with fresh tears, which the Young Prince gently wiped away. 

"So, what are you going to name my brother?" He asked again, forcing her to think. 

Rhaegar and she truly believed that it was going to be a girl, but Azaerys was saying that it was a boy. 

"Wait. How do you know that it is a boy?" She questioned, and he smiled at her. "If you survive and he is born healthy, I will tell you my secret. Now, decide on the name." 

"It's really a boy?" 

"Yes." He nodded, and she lost herself to her thoughts. 

"Your family has weird names," her words already made him frown, "Can I give him a Northern name?" She whispered, and the Prince narrowed his eyes. 

"No. He shall have a Valyrian name." 

Lyanna flinched at the sudden coldness in his voice. 

"I don't know what Valyrian names mean..." She sadly said, and then closed her eyes, trying to think again. A moment later, her mind worked around a name, she she smiled. "Can I name him Rhaegon?" She expectantly asked. 

Azaerys smiled as he knew that she wanted to name the child after his father, and chuckled at her choice.

"Interesting name. Definitely suits a Dragon, but a Targaryen Prince? No." He shook his head. "How about Rhaemon? It means The Protector in High Valyrian. And is the name of one of our Gods." 

"Yes!" Her eyes lit up as soon as she heard his words, and he pulled her cheeks like one would pull those of a child. 

"Good. So, show some love to your little Rhaemon. Live for him. A Child needs his mother to show him love and care that only his blood mother can have for it." He gently said to her, and her heart ached as she remembered that the Young Prince had lost his mother before he even turned two years old. 

"I will." She promised him. 

"Good, good. Now eat and rest." He told her before he retracted his hands, and then slowly walked out of the room. "It was a long journey. I am going to get some sleep now." 

Lyanna smiled as she watched him leave the room, and the nurse who was standing by her side, immediately stepped forward to help her control her fever. 

However, her hand froze in surprise when she touched Lyanna's skin, and her brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Your fever is gone." She whispered, and the Stark, who had not registered her words, confusedly looked at her. 

"What?" 

"Your fever is gone, My Lady." 

"Isn't that good?" She smiled. "Can you arrange something for me to eat? I am hungry." 

"Of course!" The old woman was elated to hear those words and immediately rushed out of the room to get some food prepared. 

"Rhaemon." Seeing the door close, Lyanna lovingly placed her hand on her belly, and the smile on her face, despite the sadness that still gripped her, was genuine.

What she truly feared was not living, but falling into the hands of Robert Baratheon, the man she despised the most in her life. 

However, meeting Azaerys again, and seeing him smile, she did not know why, but she felt safe. She wanted to live, to see her child grow old, and she wanted to see the day the Usurper would meet his miserable end. 

More than anything, she wanted to see Rhaegar's dream come true.

She was not naive. People called her a fool and blamed her for throwing the Realm into the war, but both she and her Prince knew that those rebels had been conspiring against the Crown.

They used her as an excuse to overthrow the Targaryens. And how dare that bastard claim that she belonged to him? 

Her father had not even asked her approval when foolish Eddard suggested this betrothal and he accepted it, and when she refused to marry that disrespectful and barbaric man, he told her to shut up and honour the family. 

Even though Ned had soon realised that he and committed a mistake, their father did not listen to his words either. 

It was only her Benjen who always stood by her side, and Brandon, as honourable as he claimed to be, was cruel.

Her heart ached as she recalled the harsh words of her oldest brother when she pleaded with him to save her from this marriage. She always thought that he loved her, but he loved his honour and words more than his own flesh and blood. 

She always wondered if her letter had reached her father or not, but she knew that Benjen would never betray her. Lysa probably failed, but her brother must have delivered the second letter. 

He was also there that night when she left with Rhaegar, and he had wished her happiness. He was only a boy, but he was braver than anyone in their family. He was brave enough to stand up for her when everyone else went silent.

Her Benjen would never betray her. 

She refused to believe it. 

This only meant that her Father and Brandon knew that she had not been kidnapped, and yet they hid the news from people. 

Lyanna felt her rage bubble up again as the thought crossed her mind.

She knew how much her father despised the Targaryens, their sinful traditions, and almost everything about them.

Lyanna remembered when she was young and they had read about the history of the Seven Kingdoms. Her father hated that the North had submitted without a fight. And he hated how Cregan Stark did not grab the opportunity when he had it.

"Did he really conspire with Jon Arryn and the other rebels?" She frowned.  

Perhaps, Eddard would have the answers. Azaerys told her that he was coming here. 

A tear escaped Lyanna's eyes as she recalled her family, Winterfell, and her little Benjen, who was her favourite. But she could not help but hold hatred towards her father and Brandon. 

They had thrown the entire Realm into War for their false honour. 

Perhaps, Rhaegar and she should have never run away. Maybe if they made things official, everything would have turned out to be fine...

She ruefully laughed at the thought as she recalled their circumstances.

The Faith of the Seven and those High Lords of Westeros would have never accepted him taking her as a second wife. And her Rhaegar was honourable enough to not leave Elia, who loved him with all her heart and was the mother of his children.

Things were not supposed to end up like this. 

Rhaegar wanted to end the Rebellion and sit on the Iron Throne by making his father abdicate it. As a King he would then finally have enough sway to somehow make things work. She would be his Queen alongside Elia, their daughter would wed Azaerys, and theirs would be the Song of Ice and Fire.

Her Prince always said that his eldest would change the world, that he was the Light of the lives of the living. 

And Lyanna always knew that her husband loved Elia just as much as her, and perhaps, if his Martell Queen was not incapable of having any more children, he would have kept his feelings for her in his heart. However, he needed more children who could stand by his eldest's side in the future. 

In a sense, she only got to be with her beloved because of Azaerys, the Promised One.

Rhaegar told her that the Prince who was Promised would need the strong support of his family, whom he could trust when the hour of need would come.

Winter was coming. 

Her husband believed in those words more than the Starks did, and he feared those words just as much. 

She remembered him telling her that Azaerys was their only hope. He was the Fire, a blessing from the Gods of Valyria. 

He was their saviour. 

Lost in her thoughts, the Stark did not realise the passage of time, and it was only after her nurse brought her food that she broke out of her musings.