A/N: Hey guys! Today's my birthday! Thought it would be perfect to get out a chapter today :D

Enjoy and please comment :D

Chapter 42: Farewell, My Loves

"Well, well, your Grace." Prodding her stomach with his finger, Lyanna yelped a bit at the maester's firm motions. "You are definitely with child."

The northern Princess wanted desperately to feel happy. "And… is he… is he healthy, Maester Qyburn?" It was almost choked out.

Beside her, Elia gripped her hand tight - putting on a braver face but just as nervous. Her husband leaned down from where he stood, mouth by her ear. "I love you," he whispered. Gods, without both Lyanna would undoubtedly be lost.

Maester Qyburn was a wiry man with slicked-back hair. Eyes twinkling with an inquisitive nature that didn't hide why he sought out the Citadel. "You need not worry, Princess. I don't see any reason you should worry about the little Prince."

Elia simpered with glee as she hugged Lya. Rhaegar was more circumspect, kissing the crown of her head - but a glance up found his eyes watering. Lyanna let out a relieved breath, letting herself feel the joy of the babe in her womb and the love they all felt for him. "Oh gods," she murmured, laughing softly. "You're sure?"

"I earned a gold link in my chain for exceptional knowledge in the methods of human quickening, your Grace," he smiled, patting a golden link. No maester she had seen ever had one, let alone the dozen he had.

"You should be an Archmaester then," Rhaegar observed. "The Citadel needs more men like you."

The wiry maester sighed. "Alas, my desired choice of study always butted heads against orthodoxy. It was either take my chain away or accept whatever outlying keep needed a maester." Taking a concoction from his shelf, he handed the bottle to Lyanna. "Take this with each breaking fast to ensure proper growth, and exercise regularly while avoiding stress."

"Don't worry, maester," Rhaegar replied. "I make sure they get plenty of exercise." It took a split second before they caught his meaning, Elia and Lyanna blushing madly.

"I can't believe you said that, Rhaegar," Lyanna chided, smacking his chest for the fourth time as they walked back to their chambers. She was held tight against his side, relishing the closeness.

"You should know by now our husband's propensity to tease," smirked Elia. "It's better than his brooding, though he is handsome in both." Almost puffing out with his ego stroked, she caught the eye of her sister-wife and they laughed at Rhaegar's antics. "That was a relief, though," she sighed.

Lyanna reached down to rub her belly. "You heard the maester, Jon. You are strong."

Rhaegar wrinkled his nose. "Are we sure about Jon? Why not a proper Valyrian name, like Daeron, or Jaehaerys?"

"I'll have you know that Jon was the chosen name of our Valyrian Prince," Lyanna smirked, kissing Rhaegar's chin. She would always treasure that memory of the marketplace. "Jon Targaryen, a powerful dragon."

"Dragonwolf," Elia corrected, smiling at the thought. "I suppose that makes Rhaenys and Aegon dragonspears."

"I think sun dragons to be a better term," Rhaegar remarked, only for him to frown.

Elia noticed. "Gods, husband. What do you have to brood upon now?" It was very clear something serious was on his mind.

"Rhaenys, what shall we tell her of the babe?"

Both Princesses sighed, eyes sad. Their eldest had largely gotten over the atrocities inflicted upon their little family by King Aerys, but Visenya's death… changed her. She had matured greatly, but her carefree, mischievous streak had dimmed greatly. They knew she wouldn't take this well. "I hadn't considered that, honestly." Elia had been swept up by the joy of Lyanna's quickening… as well as her growing sexual appetite.

"Would you want me to…"

Rhaegar was cut off by Lyanna. "I'll do it." She pains because of my loss, my suffering. "She needs to hear it from my lips." After a short silence, Rhaegar merely pulled his brides into a hug… just what they needed.

Parting with both her loves, Lyanna bit her lip as she arrived at the door to Rhaenys' chamber. Knocking for propriety's sake, she entered to find a familiar sight. "Morning, Rhae," she said warmly.

As expected, Rhaenys was sitting quietly, Balerion in her lap. At seeing Lyanna, her eyes sparkled. "Muna." Instead of getting up and running to her, she simply beamed.

Lyanna smiled back. Quiet… less carefree. There was growing up and there was this - not at all normal for a child like Rhaenys had been. Striding over, she picked up the little Princess, cat and all. "How is my little dragon this morning?"

She giggled. "I'm well, muna. Just… enjoying quiet."

"That doesn't sound like the mischievous little dragon I know," she smirked, nuzzling her shoulder. Rhae merely cocked her head to the side, seeing right through her. "I need to tell you something important."

Rhaenys' expression was perfectly Elia. It made Lyanna love her more. "What's wrong, muna?" she asked as she was set down on the bed. Balerion curled to sleep at the edge of the bed.

Lyanna stroked a hand through the raven curls. "You're so much like your muna and kepa." Taking a deep breath, Lyanna met Rhae's violet eyes. "Little dragon, you're having another brother."

There was instant recognition. "Babe?" she asked, setting a hand on Lyanna's stomach. "Brudther?"

Lyanna nodded. "Aye. A new prince and brother." She was hopeful.

The next words dashed her hope. "No!" Rhaenys' breathing quickened. It was horrible. Her muna…

Trying to remain calm, Lyanna wrapped her arms around Rhaenys. "Sweetling, it's alright…"

"No! Not alright!" But her muna held her tight. Hearing Lya's heartbeat, it became too much. Whatever hope she had of staying strong as she had for a whole moon was dashed, Rhaenys breaking out into sobs.

"Rhae… don't cry." The scene tugged at Lyanna's heartstrings.

"No babe… babe almost took you from me…" she said between tears. "No lose you, muna."

"You won't lose me."

"I will, and it my fault…"

Lyanna was confused, but continued to stroke her back through the cute purple dress she wore. "Why by the gods would it be your fault?"

She buried her face into Lyanna's dress. "I made grandfather hurt you… first time. Then he hurt you cause babe… now new babe…"

It made sense, Rhae's personality change. A combination of selfless guilt and utter worry for her life. There was no doubt she was Rhaegar's daughter. "Listen to me, my little dragon. Dragons and wolves protect each other."

"Pack survives," Rhaenys mumbled.

"Aye, together it survives." She was a very smart young lady. "We're gonna protect each other, I promise."

There was a silence only broken by soft cries and sniffles, Rhae trembling in Lyanna's arms. "Can…" She sniffled. "Can I touch babe?"

"You certainly may."

Leaning down, Rhaenys placed her hands on her muna's belly. "Hi bro...ther…" She stroked the soft skin. "You part of my pack, now. I protect you lots and lots." Her tiny lips pecked just above Lyanna's navel. "Love you, brother."

Feeling the tears return, this time of happiness, Lyanna hugged Rhaenys back to her.

"And so… when Lord Stark asked Bael about the payment for his singing, he requested only the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell's gardens. As one would think," Benjen stated, "Brandon gave him a winter rose."

"Winter roses are beautiful," Rhaegar mused. "As are the girls they crown."

Lyanna rolled her eyes as both Elia and Ashara swooned - only half done to irritate her. "You're lucky I'm already married to you. A poet you're not."

He smirked. "Liar." Lyanna chucked a throw pillow at him from where she sat and they all laughed.

"Anyways…" Benjen was regaling them with the tale of the great Bael the Bard on the hot afternoon along the Torrentine, making them forget about the winter's heat in the guest solar even for a little while. "The following morning, the maiden daughter of Lord Stark had disappeared, and in her bed was the blue winter rose."

"Gods…" Elia hadn't expected that. "What is it with Stark girls and mysterious, handsome singers? It's happened twice now."

"Not you too, Elia." Had her sister-wife not been massaging her swollen feet at the moment, Lya would have smacked her with the throw pillows too… but it felt too good to rock that boat.

Ashara grinned at Lyanna. "She has a point, your Grace."

"Twice in two thousand years does not count as a trend, although after long marrying other northerners, we have a weakness for dashing, exotic lovers." Rhaegar's Valyrian features - especially in his loose tunic and red trousers so easy for her to strip him from - simply made her wet just by looking at him. Eyes shifting back to Elia, seeing her smooth honey skin and revealing Dornish dress also confirmed her statement.

Stop it, Jon. You're making muna too ravenous. It was weird to say to her babe, but it was true. Pregnant, Lya was simply insatiable in bed.

She could feel his eyes trained on her. "Lya, what are you thinking?"

Looking up at him, she smiled. "How happy I am. Of all the people I love." With the coup rapidly coming, Lyanna learned to enjoy these days as long as they lasted.

Fate, had other plans. A knock at the door drew Benjen to it, finding a servant. "Dispatches for his Grace." Bowing, the man left as quickly as he came.

"Who's it from?" asked Elia as Benjen handed them to Rhaegar.

"Hmmm… one from Connington and one from my mother." He opened Connington's first, brows knit in confusion from the first line. "This is odd…"

Rhaegar Targaryen

You are instructed by Royal Decree to return to King's Landing at once with your family.

Jon Connington

Hand of the King

Read out loud, it was Ashara that answered first. "He didn't call you by your title as Crown Prince. Something's wrong."

Thinking hard, Rhaegar came up with nothing. "Jon's always had a flair for the dramatic," he figured, taking his mother's letter and breaking the wax seal with his thumb - pursing his lips as he read the elaborate script. "Wouldn't surprise me if…"

Sensing he stopped abruptly, Lyanna looked up. "My love? You were saying?"

Blown eyes trained on the words in front of him, Rhaegar's face went white as chalk. His knees wobbled, slowly backing up until he reached a table by which he could prop himself up. Of all he expected his mother to say - even the most outlandish and far-fetched - nothing could have prepared him for this. Ice filled his veins… freezing the dragonblood if that was even possible.

Now Lyanna was worried. She shared concern with Elia, who stopped rubbing her feet. "Rhaegar? What's wrong?"

Mouth opening to reply, nothing came out. Rhaegar's jaw flopped open and closed like a fish - the words simply died on his throat. How… how can I tell her this… "Give it here," Ashara demanded. It was a level of familiarity that Arthur had earned, but was too chivalrous to use - his sister would use it for him as Lady in Waiting and close friend to Elia. Not a few seconds into her reading did she let out a half-hiss, half-growl. "Fuck… just… fuck…" How else could she describe this?

The greatest worry filled the northern princess. "What happened? Rhaella? Viserys?" There were few things that could get her husband this panicked. Oh no… Aerys… "Rhaegar," she begged. "Please tell me…"

"Your father and brother are dead." He croaked. Scared to see her world shatter yet again, but making sure to look into her eyes all the same.

Lyanna blinked, as if not registering. "What?" It hadn't hit her yet.

Elia rose, trembling. "Ash, let me see." Ashara handed over the letter from her limp hands, Elia quickly scanning it. Shock hitting her for a split second, followed by a deep rage. "That sadistic cunt!" she screamed. "That fucking vicious mad cunt!" Elia slammed a closed fist against the wall, honey-brown eyes blazing - ignoring the throbbing in her hand. "Damn him to all the seven fucking hells!"

It didn't take long for Lyanna to put it together. Suddenly she felt as if a Baratheon warhammer had slammed in her chest. "No…" She sat up, eyes wide and alert.

"What?!" Young and brash, Benjen was incredulous. "What do you mean, they're dead?! What the fuck happened?!"

"No... you're lying." She knew what they would say, and wasn't having it. "It's not true!" Her sister-wife didn't reply, only walking close to her and handing off the letter. Rhaella's script passed forth for the last time. Hands trembling, Lyanna read the words, letting out a gasp of agony.

By the Seven, my son. Your goodfather and goodbrother are dead! Gods forgive me for being the one to destroy whatever happiness you've found in Dorne, but your father's last strings of sanity have snapped. And dear Lyanna and her family found itself in the face of the flames.

Somehow, Aerys discovered about Lya being the Knight of the Laughing Tree. He declared it witchcraft and had Brandon and Rickard Stark burned alive with wildfire, while putting a bounty on Lya's head and stripping House Stark of all titles and authority. What's worse, he stripped you of your name and birthright.

Also, it seems Jon was responsible for the death of Jon Arryn. Someone snuck the news out of the city and now Lord Elbert has called his banners for revenge. The city reeks of wildfire as all prepare for war.

I can't tell you what to do or where to go, but please do not waste time. Forget about me and protect your family. Find a way to finish this, for all our sakes.

Your Muna.

Paper falling to the floor, Lyanna sat there, unable to move. Her world suddenly stopped, mind blank as it tried to comprehend what she had just read. Father… Bran… burned alive… Only half a minute had passed, but it felt like years. The same monster that took away her beloved Visenya had now killed more of her family... "It can't be true… It just can't…" She looked upon Rhaegar, upon Ashara. "This is some sick jape, right?" It had to be… there was no way the gods could be this cruel.

You lost your child…

A hand went to cup her still flat stomach on instinct.

Seeing the truth, Benjen collapsed into a chair, armor clinking. Face expressionless as he sat dazed. This couldn't be happening. His father and brother couldn't be dead.

But it was happening. "It's not a jape," Rhaegar said, his own face twisted in pain. "My mother would never lie, and it was her writing. I can tell." Oh, how he wished it weren't true. That his love wouldn't have to suffer more simply because she married him. That there wouldn't be war… but only those were true, not the hope of happiness.

Her breathing grew heavy, heart clenched in a vice. "No! No, you're lying!"

Anger still raging, Elia heard her sister-wife and immediately calmed. "Lya…"

"Tell me it's a jape!" Her scream shook the room, but it held no anger. "Please…"

Elia threw her arms around Lyanna. "Oh, my love. I'm so sorry."

Normally the soft embrace of the Dornish Princess would soothe Lyanna, but in the state she was in. I'll never see father's tiny smile, feel his fingers ruffle my hair… never will hear Bran's laugh again… dead… dead… burned alive… wildfire… Knight of the Laughing Tree… Both of them killed for her and her impulsiveness. "My fault." She began to feel short of breath… My fault...

Hearing those words from her brought Elia physical pain. "No, my love. It wasn't your fault… that monster…" She hadn't grown too close to the Starks apart from perhaps Ned, but the anguish of Lyanna was enough to bring her to tears. "Please, Lya…"

Lyanna was beyond tears. Unable to breathe, heart being pressed on by an unseen weight. She collapsed onto Elia's shoulder, hyperventilating. "Bran… father… dead… burned alive… Jon… Jon…" It was all happening again. Her nightmares coming true, all falling apart.

At Elia's panicked look, Rhaegar gestured to Ashara. "Find Maester Qyburn. Now!" The woman was only glad to comply. He then dashed to beside his brides, enveloping them in his comforting arms. "Calm, Lya… calm… I'm here, I love you. I love you. I love you…"

Her breathing began slowing, comforted by both Elia's softness and Rhaegar's enveloping strength. "Jon… Rhaenys… Egg... not safe… our babes…"

"Nothing will happen to our babes, my loves," Rhaegar murmured, holding them tighter. "I will kill anyone that harms them." Hearing a throat clear, the Prince's eyes met his goodbrother's. Seeing the burning resolve within Benjen's gaze… knowing his own mirrored it.

Both knew what had to be done.

Both knew war had come to Westeros, and if their family was to survive they'd have to win.

And it terrified Rhaegar.

What brought only pain for the Targaryen family instead brought panic to the great hall of Starfall. Everyone trying to yell over the other as they argued.

"Aerys Targaryen disgraces our Princess!" bellowed Ser Gerold Dayne, the 'Darkstar.' "And he has murdered the Leige Lord of my unborn cousin's mother in cold blood! It's time we bring the wroth of Dorne upon him!" The four-and-ten nameday old was as brash as he was skilled.

"Sit back down before you hurt yourself!" barked the graceful young beauty Lady Larra Blackmont. She had just arrived the previous day from her keep further north on the Torrentine to greet the Crown Prince, and not only had she found her House's longtime rival House Peake there, but a brewing civil war. It irritated her and the young Darkstar suffered for it. "Gonna bring ruin to Dorne if you go off yelling like a wildling into every battle."

Alaric Dayne interjected for his cousin. "We're already deep, my Lady. Gods, do you think the favor curryers of Aerys' court will let House Dayne survive from this?"

"House Peake sides with you, my Prince," proclaimed Titus Peake. "Name where you wish for us to go and we will follow you."

"So will I, my Prince." Myles Mooton - a former squire and current sworn sword alongside Richard Lounmouth - was utterly loyal. Even to the point of defying their lieges would they fight for Rhaegar, though Ser Myles was less likely to betray House Tully than Ser Richard was to betray House Baratheon. All knew where Robert would go.

Seated at the lord's table, Rhaegar rubbed his temples. He had listened to their squabbling for over an hour and it hadn't ceased. "There can be no peace now. War is for certain…"

Lord Althos' voice was still powerful. "Lord Arryn calls his banners. Soon Lord Stark will as well. King Aerys has no shortage of enemies, and it is a close run thing for you to be declared one as well by the rebels."

"My goodbrother would do no such thing!" Rhaegar exclaimed, only to sigh. Ned wouldn't… but his bannermen might. "By the nature of my father's declaration, I am just as much an enemy as they are."

"You will face the might of the Stormlands for sure," Lady Blackmont cut in. "Not to mention the oaf Mace Tyrell.".

And yet, another guest found himself insulted. "My father is not an oaf!" Three-and-ten Garlan Tyrell, squire to the Crown Prince, shouted. "He's just confused and without recourse!"

The condemnation of Rhaegar's retinue was swift. "Shut up, whelp," Ser Richard snarled.

Benjen Stark lept in, his mood just as foul if not more so. "We all know why your father sold his soul to the Mad King!" He was itching to lash out. Had it not been at the meeting it would have been at the training yard. "Backing a monster in exchange for your infant sister becoming Viserys' Queen."

"That's not true…!"

All bickering was cut off as the doors swung open - revealing the Princesses. Guarded by Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne, each stood side by side with Lady Dacey and Starfall's own Ashara Dayne behind them. All stood, bowing to the two beauties as they walked by - easily noticing their clasped hands. Elia met their eyes, studying them, while Lyanna kept her head high. Eyes red and sunken with grief but still tall and powerful in the red and black dress of her house by marriage.

Every inch a Targaryen Queen.

Ashara took a seat among her father and brother, squeezing Elia's free hand while kissing Arthur's cheek. Tellingly for those present, Dacey sat there too, brought into House Dayne regardless of marital status. One of them, and it made the Queens smile softly as they reached the Lord's table. Elia hugged Rhaegar closely, kissing his jaw before sitting - while Rhaegar approached Lyanna, she stopped him with a searing kiss to the lips. A united front against the world, just what he needed them to be.

Still standing, Rhaegar looked upon the hall. "I have listened to what all have had to say." Everything had been coming to this moment - much as he had lived in denial, Rhaegar knew it would arrive. "And have made my decision." Glancing at both his Queens, they nodded at him - love evident. It was time…

I was never going to be the dutiful son no matter what I did. Once the madness took over, his father was doomed. Rhaegar saw that now.

"For too long my father has been ruling the Seven Kingdoms with an unsound mind." He sighed, mentally leaning on his beloveds even in their time of sorrow. "The murder of my goodfather and goodbrother only proclaimed his inner demons to the world."

"What will you do, your Grace?" Lord Peake asked.

"I will take my birthright." There was an awed silence, witnessing history. "My father no longer lives, all that made Aerys Targaryen now gone." Rhaegar drew Blackfyre, holding it vertically against his chest. "I go to war against the cabal that controls the shell my father was, and I will claim the Iron Throne."

Arthur Dayne's voice boomed into the hall of his ancestral home. "All hail Rhaegar of House Targaryen, First of His Name. King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

The moment should have shook him, but instead Rhaegar felt a weight lift from his chest. "I do not expect to command you, but I ask that you join me in this fight."

Several moments passed before Ashara Dayne, the beauty of Starfall being the first to swear allegiance to King Rhaegar I Targaryen of the House of the Dragon. A fact committed to detail by Maester Qyburn for his future histories. "Long may he reign."

The aging, hobbled Lord Althos Dayne slowly stood… and slowly bent the knee as his daughter did. "Long may he reign."

Alaric Dayne was next. "Long may he reign!"

Titus Peake drew his sword and knelt. "Long may he reign!"

Lady Melisandre smirked, eyes never leaving Rhaegar as she knelt. "Long may he reign!"

Barristan and Oswell made their choice. "Long may he reign!"

The Lord Commander followed, loyalty to the true King. "Long may he reign!"

His father having chosen Aerys, Garlan nevertheless went with the man he loved and respected. "Long may he reign!"

All others in the hall knelt, filling Rhaegar's chest with a surreal pride. "Long may he reign!"

On his left, Rhaegar felt Elia kiss his jaw lovingly - her slim, soft form pressed into his side. "Long may he reign."

On his right, his eyes spotted Lyanna… looking with pride in the man she loved. "Long may he reign." She guided her hand to her belly - it was as if Rhaegar could feel the babe inside her.

For them, I fight.

Essence wafting through the great hall, a gentle, ethereal spirit smiled. Knowing her first champion in centuries had finally woken from his slumber. 'We are with you, Rhaegar Targaryen.'

It was not something she looked forward to, but the uncertainty of it all pulled Princess Elia Targaryen away from her husband, sister-wife, and children to seek out a woman she was sure she despised. A woman that opened the door on Elia's second knock as if she knew. "My Queen."

"Lady Melisandre." Elia didn't even bother to hide her disdain as she walked in. She had obvious reasons to hate the woman - especially since she was travelling with Rhaegar on his journey north. It filled her with fire and jealousy, but something drove her to ask something of Melisandre. The only greater emotions than anger… love and fear. "I… I want to see the future."

Raising an eyebrow, Melisandre regarded Elia curiously. Fire-red hair wild to the world only enhancing her exotic appearance - it made Elia want to roll her eyes. There was no woman that could match her Lyanna in beauty. "You wish for my Lord to provide you his guidance?"

"Yes." Best play along.

"Why?"

Elia sighed. "Because I worry about my husband… I worry about my wife… my children." In spite of herself, a tear formed in her eye. "I need to know what will happen. Can you provide it?"

Two red eyes raked over her before turning to the hearth. "The Lord has shown me many things, your Grace. Life and death, joy and agony, war and peace… along with things I can;t begin to describe." She looked back at Elia. "You will be given not what you seek, but what he chooses to show you. Is that acceptable?"

It took but a moment for Elia to reply. "Do it."

"Alright." Melisandre motioned to the hearth. "Stare into the hearth, let the flames calm and warm you." Elia complied, hearing the almost inaudible High Valyrian chants from the Red Witch as she tossed blessed oil into the flames - making them spark.

"Is this supposed to work?" Elia asked… though it came out far more dazed than she had intended it...

"Look into the flames, my Queen. Let the Lord show you the way."

She blinked, almost sleepy. Elia found her eyes glazing over, orange-red flames hissing and crackling as her gaze fall deep into the fires. Almost as if she was being pulled in...

Elia emerged in a great waste. Ground baked into nothing but red sand and stone, a red, foreboding sun casting its heat upon it. It didn't faze her, though. The sun was her family's sigil, the source of the life-giving heat that forged dragons by which her husband found his blood and power. It felt… comforting.

'Dearest Elia…'

She looked up, a voice filling her ears. Elia searched around, but found nothing but the barest of deserts.

The voice still spoke to her. 'Be warned, my sweet Queen. Enemies abound.' In the distance, the moon began a slow and steady rise - sun beginning to dim for each inch in the sky its counterpart gained. Gradually, the heat around her started to cool. Normally she didn't mind the cold, but each bit of it brought nothing but agony to her as she winced in pain. 'Ice is pain. Snow is death. They will destroy you…'

It was seductive, the voice appealing to her. Urging her anger and hate at the cold that so hurt her. Casting her condemnation at the moon that was slowly strangling the sun of her house.

'No, Elia!' Another voice hit her, this one light and innocent despite the frantic tone. Almost as a mother or a dear friend rather than the deep timbre of a lover that came before. 'Ignore the pain. Banish the hate - allow only love and understanding and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.'

'The siren offers false hope. Cast it away,' the first voice commanded in such an enticing tone. Around her, light dimming as the sun was being slowly destroyed by the rising moon, a fine black whip of smoke began its journey to wrap around her. 'Destroy the ice and snow. Melt it with the heat of your heart…'

And yet another whip appeared, this one a cobalt blue. Encircling her in a spiral as it danced a vicious battle with the black. 'Hold, my dear. Let not your heart be turned to hate and anger. You know that of the north to be of love… of your dearest love…'

North… North… Shaking in rage, sweating from the freezing pain, Elia looked up to see the sun dead, replaced by a terrifying moon of ice and death… but Elia sighed. Letting the cold embrace her. For there was nothing of the North that she knew but love…

Suddenly she fell onto her back, shielding her eyes as the moon exploded into a brilliant yellow sun. Brighter than the first had ever been. And in the distance, Elia could just hear the cry of a babe…

Yanking back, Elia sucked in breath after breath. Hand flying to steady her beating heart, frantically searching around to only see the chambers of the Lady Melisandre. "Your Grace… what did you see?"

Recovering her bearings, Elia felt a need to be with her loves. To seek their love after the… confusing, terrifying image. Without another word she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

Sighing, Melisandre turned back to the hearth. "Tell me your secrets, my Lord. What do you wish from the Song of Ice and Fire?" The flames only danced in response.

"Rhaegar…" Elia gripped her King's muscular ass. "Don't stop… lover…" she murmured into his ear, begging. Pleading as he bottomed out inside her. "Oh…"

"Elia," he hissed through gritted teeth. Her hands on him, her legs wrapped around his back - her cunt squeezing him powerfully. He couldn't count the number of times he had taken Elia that night, but it was never enough. Couldn't make up for the years they denied themselves this… nor what he would have to do. "I love you."

Heart clenching, Elia's mouth gasped silently with each thrust. Looking up at him with the most tender look. "I… love you too…" How could her dragon make her swoon in the middle of the filthiest acts? Her hips bucked with his in tandem, trembling from Rhaegar's thrusts. He rocked stones-deep into her and she still wanted more. "Please…"

How could he deny this goddess? Her walls clutched his cock, Rhaegar's pressure building but holding back stubbornly. Bottoming out into her with long, slow strokes that made Elia writhe in pleasure.

An eager embrace wrapped around him from behind. "Please husband," his other bride's sultry northern burr whispered in his ear. "Make her come… hurry." A wet tongue traced the shell of his ear before latching to his neck, sucking softly - he felt alive.

Elia gasped, pulling him down upon her. Their mouths fusing together in a sloppy kiss. Rhaegar quickened his pace, needing his sun to pulsate around him. To cling to his chest and cock as she quivered her release. She screamed into his mouth, nails nearly clawing his back open in her climax. He hadn't spilled in her this time, but Elia didn't care.

Her other love deserved his seed, and her mouth watered at the prospect of watching it.

Hearing Elia wince when Rhaegar pulled out of her, Lyanna bit her lip. Her husband eying her buxom chest with hunger. She puffed her globes out. Silently giving him permission to ravish her. Gods, she was already wet enough.

But after countless lovemaking Rhaegar even still could surprise her. He pulled her on top of him, Lyanna instinctively straddling his cock. "Fuck… Lya…" Without delay he latched onto a brown nipple, sucking hard. Lyanna almost cried out from the pleasure.

"Take him, my love," Elia gasped, Lyanna's eyes darkening at seeing her pleasuring herself. "Ride our husband. Make him spill inside you." She assaulted her clit. "Make him remember what he fights for."

Words finding her body howling with desire, Lyanna frantically grabbed Rhaegar's cock, letting him slip between her wet lips as he still devoured her breast. Walls stretching to fit him in, he was so deep inside her. More… more… more… oh, gods… Her thighs clenched his hips, skin slapping together. Filling Elia's lecherous gaze with sinful images. The three of them shattering together in a mutual crescendo.

And here they were. Lyanna resting atop her husband while Elia wrapped around his side. Rhaegar held them both, softly stroking their silky smooth skin - completing the wonderful cocoon as the embers of their pleasure burned.

Yet, such a moment wasn't one of happiness. Instead, heartbreak and worry hung in the air. Such kept Rhaegar's hold tight on his Queens. Such had Lyanna and Elia pressed as extensively as they could against their King's skin. As if this would be the last time they would see him.

It was Lya that broke the long-lasting silence first. "Did… did you prepare everything for the morning?" Her voice threatened to break, holding back much.

Rhaegar sighed into her wild brown locks. "Aye. Ravens were sent to all Lord Paramounts and large houses, with instructions to duplicate them. Enough loyal keeps will spread the message, or else the Citadel will for propriety's sake." It had done so for Daemon Blackfyre, spreading news of his claim for the throne as an avowedly neutral act.

"Doesn't matter," murmured Elia, kissing his neck. "As long as Ned and Lord Elbert are receptive, their rookeries will spread the word."

"Will Elbert…"

"He will." Rhaegar was convinced. "He's not foolish enough to take on my father alone. Ned will support me." He sighed. "If only I have allies left in the capitol. Any remaining have probably fled or been killed."

"Just Lewyn and Ser Jaime," Elia breathed. "And Queen Rhaella."

Rhaegar shook his head. "I can't risk my mother's life, and I'm concerned your uncle wouldn't make a move without your brother's approval as head of House Martell."

"What about Varys?" Lya asked.

Elia sighed. "I don't trust him… he… he had to have known about what was happening and failed to tell us."

"How can you be sure?"

"He knows too much not to be knowing of things like this." But such was too deep a conversation for the moment. She merely snuggled further into her husband's side.

"And Lord Hoster?" The Riverlands always suffered in wars of succession. Brandon's betrothal to Catelyn took away their neutrality, but Brandon was dead. "Ned could marry Catelyn, but I can't ask that of him," Lyanna choked out. "Gods, what must he be going through…"

Her sister-wife leaned up to kiss her shoulder. "Ned is strong. He'll make your house proud." Elia felt her husband tense. "Rhaegar?" The question in her tone was obvious.

His eyes were closed, face pained. "It's all my fault."

Elia hugged him tighter. "No, my love…"

"I should have heeded you, but I never thought Jon would…" It sunk in recently… his longtime friend's betrayal. Was his jealousy so severe he would be willing to destroy Rhaegar because of it? Apparently. "I should have…"

In a combined effort, Lyanna and Elia threw themselves upon him - covering Rhaegar's face in fierce kisses. Elia burying her tongue down his open mouth while Lyanna sucked his neck, both palming their favorite part of him. Stoking his fire, needing his fire. Whimpering in a forlorn joy when he rolled them over. Recriminations forgotten in the all consuming, desperate lust of lovers soon to be seperated.

Sleep didn't matter to any of them. Only this, always this.

Unsaid between all three that should one not return to the embraces of their two loves, at least the memories would exist.

The day had come. The day where Rhaegar Targaryen, First of His Name, would begin his quest for the Iron Throne.

None wanted it to come, none more reluctant than the King-claimant and his Queens. The power of the Iron Throne was still held by Aerys, and only war would dislodge him. Young as they were, the youthful enthusiasm of tourney knights and eager boys were absent. Horror and violence awaited the King-claimant, and the Queens knew this.

Such made the farewell within the outer courtyard of Starfall quite a somber affair.

"Protect them, Arthur," Rhaegar said with a hitch in his voice. The only one among his retinue that hadn't mounted his horse - apart from young Garlan, his squire - the Crown Prince greeted his closest friend. Sworn sword of the Kingsguard, but met as an equal with their hands clasping their forearms. A show of the greatest respect. "Let not harm come to them."

"With my life, your Grace," Arthur replied with conviction. His oath bound him, and now with a family of his own the resolve was only enhanced.

Nodding, Rhaegar turned to his goodbrother. Before he could open his mouth the youngest Stark preempted him. "Winter will come to any that try and harm them." A tiny smile. "Key word being try."

Rhaegar chuckled in spite of the moment. "Good. Thank you, brother."

"Any time… your Grace."

Now it was time to wrench his heart into pieces. What Rhaegar dreaded. For the last year - years before counting the days of a flawed but strong marriage hidden beneath the surface - the Targaryen Prince had found a rock in his beloved brides. Elia, the graceful Dornish Princess and growing political mind, his silent supporter through the greatest trial of his life. Lyanna, the wild northern she-wolf that brought life back to his and Elia's existence. Filled him with the fire needed to do what needed to be done. Rhaegar didn't know what he'd do without them by his side…

"Kepa!"

He barely had time to kneel when his daughter leapt on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Rhaegar hugged her back, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Rhae…" She smelled just like her mother, and Rhaegar loved his little girl all the more for it.

"Please no go, kepa," she begged. Hot tears slipped through the joins in his armor to the tunic beneath.

Rhaegar softly stroked her back. "I must go, little Dragon." Pain filled him for breaking her tiny heart, but it had to be said. "Duty commands it of me."

She was stubborn like both her mothers. "Why?" Rhaenys held to him tighter as he stood from the ground, taking her with him. "Love you, kepa. I can't lose you…"

"You won't." By some miracle he managed to loosen their embrace, making her look at him. "You're growing, Rhae - growing into a proud Targaryen Princess." One harm securely wrapped around her waist, Rhaegar cupped his eldest's cheek. "I'm gonna need you to be a brave dragon for me. Protect Egg and your unborn brother, and keep your munas happy." Two wide, bright violet pools stared at him intently. "Alright, little dragon?"

Rhaenys nodded. "I will, kepa. I make you proud."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I'm already prouder than any man has the right to be, Rhae." Setting her down after a kiss to the cheek, Rhaegar gestured to Dacey. "Go to your aunt Dacey. Your munas need me." Headstrong normally, she thankfully listened.

Stopping right before Elia, he reached one arm around her waist while the other moved to pinch the cheek of the quiet Aegon. Fussing in her arms and reaching for him. "He misses you already," Elia murmured into his neck. "So does his mother."

"I love you, Elia." Rhaegar looked in her eyes. "I know I never always showed it…"

"Shh," she cut him off. "I love you too, husband." Elia promised herself she wouldn't cry now, and it took all her strength not to at that moment. "Do what you must. Don't trust Varys more than necessary." The reason could be left unsaid, they trusted each other. "And win."

"I intend to." Kissing her deeply, committing her feel to memory, no sooner than he had let go of her and Egg did his northern Queen leap on him as Rhaenys had. "Oh Lya…"

Unlike Elia, Lyanna was unable to hide her tears - but she remained composed. "If you die I will never forgive you," she hissed fiercely into his ear. "I'll come into the seven hells and cut off your cock myself."

"You love my cock too much," he whispered back, unable to resist the quip. Lyanna laughed through her repressed sobs and kissed him hard. Their tongues battling in a bittersweet passion. "I will return to the both of you," he promised.

Lyanna bit her lip, guiding his armored palm to her stomach. "Jon needs his kepa. Keep your promise." One more savage kiss and it was ended. Rhaegar painfully breaking the embrace and stepping towards Moondancer, leaving the two Queens to stand pressed into each other's sides for whatever comfort they could find.

Garlan bowed his head. "Your Grace." Out came Rhaegar's helm, all of black and with a roaring dragon's head in the crest - two wings of steel rising on each side.

Nodding at his squire, the Prince took the helm and placed it upon his head. Mounting Moondancer with little trouble. "My King," remarked Ser Barristan, who took position next to his sire. "We are ready."

"So we are." Taking one last look at the gathered noncombatants taking refuge in Starfall with Arthur's House, he drew Blackfyre. Holding it high as Moondancer raised on his hind legs. Looking every inch a dragonlord. "Fire and Blood!" he bellowed

"Fire and Blood!" came the reply, words of House Targaryen the loudest from his Queens. Finding comfort in the house of the dragon.

A/N: LONG MAY HE REIGN!

And Rhaegar is off to war in yet another timeline. At least now poor Lyanna won't be alone. She has Elia, her kids, and Benjen to keep her company. After all that heartbreak, she's gonna need all that love.

Qyburn shows up. I have plans for him.

Next time, Ned sacrifices much for the survival of his house and his family. Be sure to comment. It's the best birthday gift :D