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The first time Rhaegar tried to explain what he’d uncovered during his readings, his prophetic visions, and his scattered thoughts, he sounded like a drunkard or perhaps worst. Had he tried to explain everything to anyone other than his oldest friend, Arthur Dayne, he might’ve been ridiculed and labeled a madman; as his father was.
The second time around he’s coherent, compelling even, stringing together an explanation that fills in every hole, leaves no stone unturned. He’s honest and as open as he’s ever been with anyone he’s only known for such a short time. Although it feels like he’s known her all his life, his willful and beautiful Lyanna.
After eloping, they spent the night camped on the south bank of the Gods Eye, in the shadow of Harrenhal, a place that holds so much history for them both. During their departure, they passed through the grove where he discovered that the Knight of the Laughing Tree, the mysterious new entry into the tourney who caused a great ruckus for some and pure entertainment for many, was none other than Lyanna Stark.
To honor her bravery, and her beauty, he presented her with a crown of winter roses when he won the tourney the following day. She became his queen of love and beauty; and so much more.
As they ride south, Lyanna listens to his every word, without interruption. When the wind blows their hair in their faces, she first combs her fingers through his hair gently and plaits it. She gives herself a plait as well. It’s a simple yet endearing gesture, one that he will carry with him always.
Then she returns her arms to his waist, holding him tightly as though she were afraid to fall off the horse. Lyanna isn’t.
Not his fierce and bold knight; only when they’re together, or in letters carried on the wings of trustworthy ravens, does he refer to her as a knight. She’s quite good on a horse herself and wields a sword and shield as if she were born to be a warrior.
No, Lyanna isn’t afraid of falling. She holds onto him like this because she simply wants to be close to him. Even as he tells her stories of fearful monsters and prophecies, of sorcery and death, she holds on to him, unwavering.
When he started it still looked like night time, though it was only dawn. By the end of it, the afternoon sun is hanging above their heads. He talked so much that his throat is dry and he worries that he may have lost her near the end of it.
“I should have told you sooner,” Rhaegar says, believing her silence is a prelude to anger and condemnation. “Time has never been on my side, I fear.”
“I imagine it was difficult for you to tell me at all. Thank you.”
Rhaegar expected more of an outburst admittedly. She isn’t a woman to hold her tongue or hide her thoughts. He learned that early on.
“Can you promise me one thing, your grace?” she asks.
“Rhaegar,” he says, not unkind. “I asked you to call me Rhaegar.” Granted, he made the request during a rather intimate time so she may assume the absence of a title is only for bed sport but that isn’t the case. He only wants to hear his name, not any grand titles, on her lips.
“Promise me, Rhaegar, that our child will be more than some treasured prophecy fulfillment to you. He or she will be cherished by you because they were born of our love, not because they will bring the morning or what have you.”
Rhaegar can’t help the smile that settles on his face. She believes him.
The promise is a reasonable and simple one to keep because he had every intention of cherishing their child for the reason she stated.
“Bring the dawn,” he corrects out of habit. “You have my word, Lyanna. You are more than a means to an end, and the same will go for our child.”
That’s all Lyanna needs to hear.
He assumed she would have endless questions and at least a speck of disbelief. He waits for her to say more, but then he feels a weight press against his back and the tightness of her arms around his waist slacken.
She’s fallen asleep.
Understandably, she’s exhausted. They didn’t sleep much the night prior and they rose earlier than the sun. Rhaegar takes no offense. In fact, he’s quite happy with how this turned out. Lyanna believes him. She was told everything there is to know about the prophecy, even the unpleasant aspects, and yet, she believes him and accepts him. She even spoke of the child they’ve yet to have.
Rhaegar smiles at the path ahead, a path he once faced with sadness and oftentimes reluctance. Darkness and sorrow await him at the end, but for now, he’s happy to have this moment with Lyanna.