act i . chapter xiii

AN UNAVOIDABLE DESTINY
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THOUGHTS AND FEARS swirled around in her her head as she urged her horse on through the woods. What would have happened if she had been unmasked? How would people have reacted? What would have been done with her? The king. Her father. The men she challenged. Robert. She didn't know what she'd do now. Did she make a mistake leaving in the abrupt fashion that she did?

Nevertheless, Lyanna had to get back. But not like this. Not on this horse. Not in this armor. Not in a leather jerkin. Not all hot and sweaty and flustered. She needed to sneak back in as if nothing happened at all.

Lyanna blew it all and she didn't know how to fix it. She rode and rode and rode her horse until she knew she had ridden her too hard and too long. They stopped at a stream for them both the recuperate. Lyanna tied the long reins to a nearby stump close the to sure for the horse to regain her energy. She went on her own to gather firewood and grasses to make a fire to keep warm by and perhaps to cook a rabbit or a squirrel over if she found one to eat, for she was starving.

Her arms and core ached from her joust. Her inner thighs and hips were even worse from riding away so hard for so long. She could barely move. Soreness was a problem that probably would not go away until overmorrow. She walked-no waddled-to a group of trees, shield in hand. She needed to discard it somewhere. This armor too. She'll hide the shield and send the armor down the river. She'll burn the banner on her horse.

Lyanna grabbed at each tree, leaning all her weight on it. She didn't really care. She would joust again, no doubt. It was a rush. She doubted she ever get the chance to do that again, though. Especially if her father or Robert catches her. A few steps away, Lyanna saw a hollowed out tree where she could hide the shield. Carefully, she made her way over and stuffed the shield into the hollowed out tree.

She also suddenly realized she had been wrong about dresses her entire life. It was way easier to move in a dress rather than armor. she found herself feeling bad for soldiers and knights. Shuffling back through the dry leaves of the fertile Riverlands, Lyanna pulled off the helm, letting the cool air flow through her hair that was stuffed up inside. Her long dark brunette hair was wet with sweat and the air sent pleasurable chills through her body. She made her to way to the horse she used and pulled the quickly painted banner off its flank and threw it over her fire that had grown into a healthy flame.

Lyanna squatted down and took care of the banner, making sure it was all burned and the fire didn't get out of control. She reached her arm to her opposite shoulder, trying to undo the strap on her armor. It would do her well to have a squire about now. Straining, her fingers eventually found the connecting leathers and she worked the armor off her body.

As she was working the last piece on her right foot off, the felt sprinkles of rain on the top of her head. Immediately, she frowned, but it was only light rain. Maybe it would pass. When she looked up at the sky, the color reflected her eyes. Gray and stormy. Her dark brows came together in worry as she looked to her fire and her horse. This wasn't good.

When the sky cracked violently with thunder, the horse spooked and began to run off. Lyanna tied her up, though. It would be fine. At least that was what she thought until the mare's reins ripped at the stump it was tied to and allowed the horse to bolt away across the river, screaming and bucking. Surprise had slapped Lyanna across the face leaving her to do nothing but stand and watch her way out of this place leave with out her.

"No," she whispered softly to herself, letting her legs give out underneath her and falling to the ground, burying her face in her gloved hands. When the thunder clapped again, the rain began to fall. Real rain. Cold rain. She watched with dead eyes as the rain fell upon her fire. The only source of warmth. But then she realized. She could use her shield to cover it from the rain. Just until it slackened up.

She ran carefully back to the tree and grabbed the shield out, holding it over her head from the heavy rain. Her legs and core were too sore to walk, let alone sprint. She just had to be careful not to pull anything. When she got back to the fire, her heart sunk. It was already out. Resting her hands on knees, Lyanna realized that she could very well die if she didn't figure something out.

The rain fell heavy on her back and head and she could hear the shallow river splashing. What could she do? Where was she going to go? Taking a deep breath, she stood up straight and wiped the water from her brow, walking over to the wide river, looking inside. It was not deeps just inches into the clear, flowing water, she could see a bed of pebbles. She could have seen her reflection if it wasn't for far raindrops breaking it up before it could form.

Suddenly, Lyanna heard the pounding hooves of a horse on the wet leaves. Maybe hers was coming back. Or maybe it was Benjen. He was supposed to track her down with new clothes and help to get rid of the evidence. If so, he was her way out. She watched the tree line, looking for Benjen's dark hair, only to see the silver mane of a Targaryen. Whoever was riding was nearly twice the size of her brother who was only thirteen.

That left the King Aerys out, who seemed shriveled and shrunk. This approaching man was the Crown Prince Rhaegar! Lyanna began to panic, looking down at her loosely tied jerkin and breeches. Her dress was under it, tucked into her small clothes. Maybe if she could get the men's clothes off, she could lie and say that she had gotten lost in the woods. First she had to rip the riding gloves off and pull her-or rather Benjen's boots off.

As soon as her feet were free, she set off in a sprint down the river, mud squishing between her toes and splashing up on her back. She could feel her right leg muscles and her left side muscle about to tear, but she had to ignore it. She untied the jerkin and began to pull it off, hearing Prince Rhaegar's horse behind her. Once she discarded the top of her outfit, she began on the pants, still running.

When the sound of beating hooves suddenly stopped, Lyanna looked back to see what was going on. She saw that Rhaegar had stopped his horse and tied him up by the river where Lyanna's fire had been. He bent over to pick up her shield with the laughing tree drawn on it. Panicking, Lyanna pushed her legs even harder.

"Lady Lyanna!" Rhaegar called after her, holding his hand up. "Stop running, you'll hurt yourself."

And because that order gave her more fear than advice, it was sure to come true. Her muscles all over her right thigh locked up and sent blinding pains through her body. She forced herself to a stop, slipping and cutting the bottom of her foot on a sharp rock. She caught herself, but only barely. She let out cry of shock and pain.

"My Lady!" Rhaegar called from a great many strides away. "Don't move! It's an order from your crown Prince!"

He spoke no louder than one would be telling an exciting story. He didn't yell. He didn't need to. His voice projected well enough. And he even sounded amused. Especially when Lyanna lost her painful balance on the muddy banks and doubled over into the shallow stream of water. The cold, clean water rushed through her clothes and pierced her skin like needles. She was already cold from the rain. Now was soaked.

In his mirth, the Prince broke into a run to help the lady, ignoring his amusement. Lyanna only grew angry. Why is he to laugh at her when she's not only injured and cold and wet, she also sure to lose her head for treason to his father. Doesn't he feel bad? Or is he actually as bad as Aerys and Lyanna judges him wrong. Her anger must have been evident on her face as she turned to stand up, because upon seeing her, Prince Rhaegar only laughed harder. But he made himself stop to try and console her. "My Lady," he greeted holding out his hand. "Please restrain from injuring yourself any farther."

His voice was so dark and smooth. Like Dornish chocolate. He presented a handsome, white smile and a large, strong, gloved hand to her and she wanted to take it, but she continued to be stubborn, forcing her feet under her and standing up with much pain in her torn muscles and deep cut on her heel. Not to mention the soreness she felt all over.

"I will not take your hand, Prince Rhaegar, because I did not commit any sort of treason and I will not be tried without friction," Lyanna told him simply, shivering.

"Yes, my Lady," Rhaegar agreed. "I do believe you would cause all sorts of friction if I were to take you in on those charges. But that's where you have me wrong. I know that you are innocent of any sort of treasonous behavior. Now do you want to take my hand?"

Lyanna was definitely surprised. She looked at his empty hand and at his face. He didn't seem to be lying. But gods, seeing him up close was nothing like seeing him from afar. He was happier, for one. All the other times she had seen him, it was like he just been told a great tragedy. Maybe there was just something different about this time. His hair was shining silver and his eyes were a deep, reflective indigo, shaded with dark, thick lashes. And that was where Lyanna found the absent sadness. He had dark brows and dark slight stubble that was only hours long. The day was old the sky was growing dark. And his lips were long and full. His smile was beautiful. And reluctantly, while this was never the first thing Lyanna thought about anyone, she had to admit: he was beautiful. In a majestic, tragic sort of way.

"Lyanna?" he asked, taking her out of her thoughts. Though he was handsome, she wasn't going to change the way she thought she should treat him. He scared her half to death and made her run until her legs gave out.

"I'm not taking your hand, Prince," Lyanna quipped as she attempted to step out of the river. When the wide cut on her heel went over a rock, Lyanna gasped and picked up her foot, looking down at the blood pooling in the water around her. "You've cut your foot, Lady Lyanna," Rhaegar said looking down. "Let me help you."

"It's just a cut. It doesn't hurt. I very much can walk on my own, thank you." When she tried to move forward, Rhaegar put a gentle hand around her arm, carefully stopping her. "Lyanna, if you you walk on that, it's sure to get infected. You don't want to lose your leg. You won't be able to ride any longer."

Lyanna shot him a look of intense anger. "Depends on how much has to come off," she said with a tone of finality as she attempted to walk off, not truly even knowing where she would go. Taking her by surprise, Rhaegar scooped her up and held her like a child, pulling her out of the river, getting water all over himself.

"You've given me no choice, Lady Lyanna. I've come here to put you back as you were, to bring no suspicion. I can't do that if your foot catches a rot."

"My Prince, I would very much appreciate if you would release me from your hold," she said shivering.

"Stop resisting. I'm rescuing you from freezing to death in the deep, dark forest."

"I understand that most people would be grateful-" Rhaegar interrupted her.

"What you should understand is that most people wouldn't get stranded in a forest without shoes or a horse," he countered. Lyanna sat tensely in his hold, arms and legs crossed, obviously angry.

"I wast trying to rid the evidence of my 'treason'."

"And the half tucked, sweat-stained silk dress halfway tucked into Benjen Stark's trousers is just your everyday garb?" Lyanna only rolled her eyes in response.

"And the horse ran off when the storm started," Lyanna finished. How long was the way to his horse? she thought to herself. He was very warm though. In the time that he had held her, she had stopped shivering,

"Did you not tie the beast up," he asked her. Lyanna scoffed, angry that he would ask such a stupid question.

"Of course I did, you-" she had to stop herself. She nearly forgot she was speaking to her prince and that he, right now, held her life in his hands. He knew she was about to insult him and a smiled tugged at the corner of his lips. "When he tried to break loose, the knot unraveled."

"Oh, so you knew to tie her up, but you just can't tie a knot."

"Stop teasing me," Lyanna grumbled.

Rhaegar chuckled and returned, "You've berated me since I've arrived. All while I'm your only way out of execution and your Prince. And now I can't even tease you?"

"I'm sorry, my Prince," Lyanna mocked. They finally reached his tall, white, mare. Effortlessly, he put her atop the mount, behind the saddle.

"I can ride myself, you know," she snipped at her seating arrangement. Rhaegar scoffed, putting his foot in the stirrup and swinging his leg over to sit in his saddle. "Oh yes, Lady Stark, I know. But, just glancing around, I can't seem to find your horse."

Lyanna huffed and crossed her arms. "You need to hold on, my Lady."

"I can stay on," Lyanna countered. He turned to look at her in the eyes. "Lyanna. No. You can't."

"Would you like to gamble with that statement?" Lyanna asked. Rhaegar nodded. "I'm going to take off then. Are you sure?" Lyanna didn't say anything. Rhaegar spurred his horse ever so slightly and Lyanna heart dropped and blood rushed to her face when she nearly fell off the horse, just as Rhaegar told her would happen. Just as Lyanna knew would happen. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Begrudgingly, she wrapped her arms around his torso.

When she was finally safe on the horse, Rhaegar took off. Lyanna looked up to the sky to see where they were going. She knew that Harrenhal was east of where she went because she was sure she went west when she left. Her thought process of directions had always been slow.

Her mother, Lyarra, said it was woman's trait and Lyanna learned throughout her life that it was. She also knew that her mother never lied. Lyanna was only four when her mother died. She only remembered glimpses and words from her. Ned and Brandon were six and seven when the birthing bed took her. They remember her better and told stories about her to Benjen and Lyanna when they were young. Before they all had duties and went off to foster or to marry. Their Lord Father, Rickard never talked about Lyarra. Ned told them it was because he loved their mother very much, but Brandon said he was too bad at talking and showing emotion to do so. Ned and Benjen came to decide that it was a mixture of both.

Looking up at the sky, Lyanna noticed that they were going north. "Prince Rhaegar, why aren't we going back to the castle?"

"Look at the sky. You rode out for a day. Now look at you. You're filthy. Your wearing you brother's clothes over your dress, which is ruined. You have no shoes. Your foot is cut open and I'm quite sure you've strained your leg in more places than one. Not to mention you have no horse, we're both quite famished and fatigued. As is my horse. The rain as made us cold and we have no equipment to make camp."

Lyanna was confused. All those things were true. So why were they going away from the castle? "Yes, you're right, but should we not be headed towards the castle?"

"No," he answered. "That would be a day's ride. There's an inn just north of here we should arrive in under an hour. There we can fix your situation."

Lyanna was growing even grumpier from the soreness in her legs and core and the fact she still had to ride. She was growing grumpier from her lack of food and water. From her lack of sleep.

"Are you really not going to turn me into the king?" she asked him.

"Well speak of that when we reach the inn," he answered. "Let's just ride for now."

Just riding. No talking. Lyanna found that she quite liked that idea. She let her mind rest on the way to the inn, doing her best not to fall asleep on Prince Rhaegar's back. She probably would have fallen asleep quickly if weren't for the thirst and hunger. But she was almost to the inn...