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The West is asleep.
Rhaegar revels in the early hours of the morning when the whole world has stopped and he is the only person alive. A warm breeze blows in through an open window in the Tower of Joy and fills the room with life; Rhaegar breathes it in and gazes out at the mountains that rise up from the ground in his wife’s homeland. A sound from the bed behind him echoes through the room as the woman sleeping quietly shifts as she dreams, breaking not only the silence, but Rhaegar’s feeling of solitude.
He is struck once again by her beauty, the slight grin that seems to cling to her mouth even as she sleeps, the high arch of her eyebrow and the strong chin that spoke of her stubbornness. He can almost see the wildness twinkling in her eyes if he thinks hard enough but right now he’s too caught up in the dark hair curling down around her pale shoulders, it’s the North in her he thinks fondly.
Rhaegar knows he shocked many when he named her Queen of Love and Beauty, but he has never laid eyes upon someone who has taken his breath away so completely as Lyanna Stark has. Elia means the world to him and one day she will sit beside him as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but Lyanna, she will ever be the Queen of his heart.
“Come back to bed,” Lyanna says, voice low and bright grey eyes darkened with lust. Rhaegar glances out the window again, thoughts going once again to the wife held hostage by his father and to Robert Baratheon who he is sure has declared full on war by now. He hears Lyanna sit up, the covers on the bed slipping away from her naked body and Rhaegar puts all thoughts of Robert from his mind.
War can wait one more day; tomorrow he will head out toward death, and fire, and blood. Today he is alive he thinks, smiling sadly, sliding once more between the soft thighs of his Queen.
-
The day is ending.
The sun is slowing sinking down behind the mountains of Dorne and Lyanna can just barely make out the speck on the horizon that is Rhaegar. He’s left her in his tower while he rides off to face Robert Baratheon, the man Rhaegar has stolen her away from. A shiver goes through her. Lyanna is a Stark and even through the pressing Dornish heat she can feel it, winter is coming.
Lyanna thinks of Ned and briefly wishes she had explained everything to him, why she had to leave. She doesn’t want her dear brother to go to war on her account. Death has ensnared far too many of her kin lately she fears for Ned, the only brother she has left, but she knows that war is what's coming, Robert is too hard headed to let this go.
She wonders if she’ll ever see Rhaegar again, it’s a morbid thought but she can’t seem to let it go. There’s a chill in her bones and an icy hand gripping her heart, filling her with a haunting sense of loss that she can’t for the life of her explain away. She feels like summer is slipping through her fingers, the harder she tries to hold on to it the faster it goes.
Staring out the window Lyanna watches as Rhaegar completely disappears from sight. A warm breeze sweeps in and Lyanna feels more alone than she ever has in her life. What will happen to her she wonders, if Rhaegar doesn’t return. Will Ned ever be able to look at her again? Does he think her a traitor? More than anything Lyanna wishes she could talk to her dear brother, Ned is calm and level headed and the only person who can bring her back down to reality, stop her mind from spinning out of control. This time though, Lyanna suspects that even Ned would have nothing to say that could reel her in.
Lyanna laughs to herself, places a pale hand protectively over her stomach, and wonders how the hell she wound up here.
-
The fountain of death.
Robert is at home here, war hammer in hand, the sound of death filling his ears, blood staining the Green Fork a deep red. He can taste the victory, it’s sweet in his mouth. Robert is going to find that Gods damned dragon, and he’s going to kill him.
Robert thinks of his betrothed. She is hidden away, trapped in the south somewhere. He wonders if she’s alright because if Rhaegar has hurt her, Robert will kill him a thousand times over. With these thoughts racing around his head he lays eyes on the dragon prince. Robert rages like he did the day Lyanna was taken from him, hammer held high he takes off at a run, bloody water splashing his armour as he goes. His is the fury.
The world disappears when Robert is fighting. Hammer in hand, blood pounding through his veins; his head has never been clearer. A blow to the knee and Robert has Rhaegar sitting in the cool water. Blood of the dragon he thinks with a sneer, if dragons are so easy to kill it’s no wonder there aren’t any left. Robert brings his heavy war hammer down hard and watches as Rhaegar crumples under the weight of it. His bloodlust is out of control and he can’t help but smile as he watches the water around Rhaegar swirl red. Robert reaches down, pulls Rhaegar toward him and looks into the face of his enemy, “For Lyanna.” He whispers and there’s a strange look in the dragon’s eyes but Robert has gone too far for something like that to trip him up.
The killing blow crushes Rhaegar. The rubies that adorned Rhaegar’s armour dislodge and sparkle at Robert’s feet before the current sweeps them away. Robert feels no remorse for this man who kidnapped his Lyanna, in fact he is glad Rhaegar is dead, and he’s glad that he was the one to do it.
Everything about the death he decides, is oddly beautiful.