𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 || Aemond Targaryen

Chapter Five

121 AC

The somber occasion of Lord Rickon Stark's funeral had drawn Lyanna to the austere landscapes of Winterfell. King Viserys, recognizing the depth of her connection with the new young lord, Cregan Stark, had appointed her to represent the crown. Accompanying her were notable figures: Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King; Ser Arryk Cargyll and Rickard Thorne from the Kingsguard; her own handmaiden, Genevieve; and Prince Aemond Targaryen, alongside a retinue of nobles and guards.

Cregan Stark, now lord at just thirteen, possessed stormy grey eyes that seemed to embody the fierce winters of the North. Lyanna and Cregan had formed a unique bond during one of her father, Lord Corlys's, numerous diplomatic visits to the North. United by a shared enthusiasm for combat and tales of dragons, their friendship had flourished. It was Lyanna who introduced Cregan to swimming—a skill uncommon in the Seven Kingdoms but second nature to her, given her Velaryon heritage and upbringing by the sea. She harbored a hope to imbue these skills and passions in Prince Aemond and any future offspring they might have, foreseeing a future where Targaryen dragons and Velaryon seafaring prowess were intertwined.

The journey to the North was undertaken by carriage, a decision influenced by a request from Cregan's uncle to leave their dragons at the Red Keep, to avoid any threats to the livestock. The party split into two carriages: Prince Aemond rode with Ser Otto and Ser Arryk, signifying his royal status, while Lyanna shared her carriage with Genevieve and Rickard Thorne, her newly appointed protector since her betrothal to Aemond.

Lyanna's carriage trailed at the end of the procession, a position that gave her time to ponder the landscapes passing by and reflect on the duties that awaited her in Winterfell. Despite the distance between their carriages, Lyanna felt the weight of her future with Aemond, a future she hoped would blend the sky-reaching ambitions of the Targaryens with the deep, enduring strength of the Velaryons.

Since her brother Laenor's tragic departure from this world, Lyanna hadn't laid eyes on her father, Lord Corlys, for an entire year. In the aftermath of such a profound loss, Lord Corlys had chosen the battlefield over the mourning halls, deciding to wage war in the Stepstones rather than stand by his bereaved wife and sole surviving child. Princess Rhaenys did what she could to fill the void, attempting to offer Lyanna the emotional support she desperately needed, but the task proved challenging. In many ways, Lyanna felt isolated in her grief, finding solace only in the company of her cousins.

In those days, early marriages were common, a strategy employed to ensure the continuation of a family's lineage through the birth of numerous heirs. This societal norm was borne out of necessity, as each lord sought to cement his legacy through his descendants. Cregan Stark, in the fullness of time, would father ten children with three different wives, a testament to this very tradition. Among his progeny, he would bestow the name Lyanna on one of his daughters, honoring the bond and friendship he shared with the Velaryon girl who had once taught him to swim and shared dreams of dragons beneath the northern skies.

As we breached the threshold of the North, navigating through the whispering forests blanketed in snow, I found myself lost in thought, gazing out the carriage window. The Valyrian steel dagger Aemond gifted me was clenched in my hand, hidden beneath the folds of my dress—a constant companion in these uncertain times. Abruptly, the silence was shattered by a scream that pierced the air, a sound so harrowing it echoed in the recesses of my mind.

"Did you hear that?" I turned to Gen and Rick, my voice laced with concern.

"Hear what, my lady?" Gen replied, her brows knitting together in confusion.

"Is everything alright, Lyanna?" Ser Rickard inquired, his tone equally puzzled.

Before I could formulate a response, the scream rent the air once more.