Hey All! I know I just finished another ASoIF fic but this one needed to be written too! I've never written a triad story, and this will be my first! I also don't often write smut stories, but I wanted to practice a little so I added some here? I also wanted to try my hand at fem!jon. I'm nervous, haha.

This story was inspired by all the amazing fem!jon stories out there, specifically the ones below. Check them out on Ao3.

Visenya by TheEagleGirl

Lost Girl by prussianblues

The wolf within by tzar

All she's ever wanted was to be a true Stark. She's five and ten and she's never had a mother. Since the day her father brought her back, she has been the single stain on Lord Eddard Stark's honor. His famed honor, so well-known that Lyarra Snow's existence is known to many of the noble houses of the realm.

She's a bastard, born in Dorne and raised at Winterfell by her Lord father with all of her brothers and sisters. Yes, she has a father, brothers, and sisters but she has no mother, not in Catelyn Stark. Especially not in Catelyn Stark.

Lyarra knows how cruel Lady Stark is. She's quiet in her fury but sharp in her words and she is colder than the winds of winter could ever be. She is no Northern woman who could pierce the heart with fear, but Lyarra quivers under her gaze because all she can see is a woman who wishes she was dead. And the worst part about that, is that her younger sister, Sansa, agrees.

When they were young Sansa loved Lyarra, loved her big sister who was always there to hug and kiss her; to teach her everything she knew. But now she turns away when she sees Lyarra, calls her half-sister and bastard – and those are the kinder words that Sansa has to offer Lyarra. It hurts Lyarra but she pretends she does not feel the ice in her heart. She is of the North and loves Winterfell and the Starks, even if neither Winterfell or the Starks have no love for her.

So she turns to the sword at the tender age of seven. She begs Robb to let her pretend to be a Knight during their games which had only confused him, because wasn't she supposed to want to play the princess who needed to be rescued from the tower? Then she tugged hard on Ser Rodrick's arms and asks to learn the blade from the master at arms.

Ser Rodrick gives her a queer look, asking why she would need to know the sword and Lyarra hastily replied that she wanted to know how to protect herself and her siblings. Ser Rodrick is even more confused at that, pointing out that there is nothing she needed to protect her siblings from.

But Lyarra knows better. She knows that there is great evil here, has seen it in her dreams. So she bluntly tells Ser Rodrick that sometimes men hurt women and that finally convinces him to reluctantly teach her the basics with a sword.

They practice easy maneuvers for six turns before her Lord father catches them, and Ser Rodrick hastily apologizes on his knees, and promises to teach her no more. Lyarra just cries because she's doing so well, is learning so much. Then her Lord Father stops her tears.

"For what reason do you desire to learn the blade?" how wonders.

She gives him the same reason she told Ser Rodrick and she notices a shadow pass over her father's face. He will deny me she thinks, because why would a woman learn the blade? To her surprise, her father agrees that she will train with Robb and Theon. The next day when the two boys are training, they are surprised to see there is an addition to their lessons.

She only bests Robb half of the time, and Theon a quarter, but she swears she could win more if Lady Catelyn didn't punish her for winning against the boys.

And then Arya grows up a little more, and just like Lyarra she shows interest in the blade. She wants to be a Knight, she tells Lyarra, wants true honor and glory. After months of Arya's pestering, she and Arya start to practice in secret together in the godswood where no one could see them.

But Lady Catelyn does somehow find out, and Lyarra is truly afraid of the ice in Lady Catelyn's eyes for the first time. Aye, during her life she had been anxious about being anywhere near Lady Catelyn, but this was truefear. All Lady Catelyn cares about is etiquette and her children, and she is already angry that Arya refuses to end her friendship with Lyarra.

Lady Catelyn shouts at her loudly, and in front of many people, just to shame her.

"We feed you! We clothe you! And you stop my true daughter from being a lady!"

Arya is weeping now, because although she's been scolded before she's never heard her lady mother raise her voice at her eldest sister. But she gets a determined look in her eye, and starts shouting back.

Lyarra curses in her head, because she knows that Catelyn will blame the disrespect on her as well. Lady Catelyn sends Arya back to her room, and Lyarra tries to slip away with her. Unfortunately, Lady Catelyn catches her, reprimands her again, and then finally slapped her across her face to stop Lyarra from giving excuses. The courtyard is silent. There isn't a breath. Lady Catelyn has struck her husband's bastard. But Lyarra thinks perhaps it feels good to Lady Catelyn because she raises her hand again and moves to slap her once more when her ord father is suddenly behind Lady Catelyn.

"What are you doing, Cat?" he demands in the quietest voice Lyarra has ever heard. She wonders if this is the time to sneak away, if perhaps an argument between the two will stop them from noticing she is gone. But if her lord father is upset as well, will she be turned out into the snow? Will she starve on the road in the cold? But she scampers away as her father leads Lady Catelyn away.

The next day, Lady Catelyn gives her cold glares even frostier than before, and Lyarra gets half of the already meager serving she always gets for meals.

Lyarra's hunger makes her dream of dragons when she sleeps that night. She dreams of dragons most nights, but it is different this time. She is riding the dragon, a great white and gold beast, and when she looks to her left she sees a man – the boy she has seen her whole life – on a green dragon. Their eyes meet and she turns to her right and-

She's shaken awake before she can see who is on her right. Arya is looking at her strangely.

"You're late," she says, "We were supposed to practice together half an hour ago."

"We can't anymore, Arya," Lyarra says as she sits up, "Your mother would skin me alive."

Arya is unhappy about the prospect of no longer having her sword lessons with Lyarra, but rushes away to hide when she hears Septa Mordane angrily calling her name.

Lyarra dreams of the boy every night that week. She sees his eyes, a pale lavender, with flecks. His skin holds the lightest of tans, and his silver-gold hair is tied back in a knot, the way her father sometimes wears his hair.

It feels like he's looking straight at her, looking this is no dream and truly she is standing beside a man who is just as present as she is.

"Vise-"

She wakes.

Lady Catelyn is particularly cruel when Winterfell receives notice that the King is journeying North. Her father has been giving her lingering looks as though he is trying to understand something. Lady Catelyn is more than unhappy about her father giving her attention, but she's even more enraged because she has no desire for the King to see her humiliated, with a bastard under her roof.

Lady Catelyn is vicious leading up to the King's arrival. She sends Lyarra to bed without supper thrice for no reason at all, and the only way that Lyarra can seek comfort is by hiding under the leaves of a weirwood tree. Lady Catelyn never goes to the godswood, and she doesn't want Lyarra around anyway, so she hides for hours at a time. While she lies under the heart tree, she wonders what it would be like to be free, what her future would be like if she was trueborn like Sansa. Sansa will marry a lord, with a castle, and have many beautiful redhaired children. And Lyarra knows that will not be her future. She has heard the low conversations that her father has with her uncle Benjen. He has not a single prospect for a match for Lyarra. No one will wed a bastard, Lyarra knows, and Lyarra cannot stay in the house of Lady Catelyn forever, or she may freeze under the woman's cold stares. She's gotten used to the hunger, and it no longer hurts when she is denied dinner. But gods forbid her father dies, Lady Catelyn will sell her to a Winter Town brothel without a second thought, and Lyarra knows this for sure.

It doesn't matter either way, Lyarra realizes, because when she sees a patch of freshly moved dirt near her father's favorite heart tree her attention is caught. There's grass over it, but it looks different than the greenery around it and Lyarra knows that there is something there. Something is calling her name, as though there is something she must know, something that would change her life.

She rubs the cut grass away and the dirt is beneath her fingers and she wonders if digging near a heart tree will anger the gods. Does it matter? she thinks, Haven't the gods forsaken me anyway? Did they ever care about me at all?

But gods! When she finally sees what is there, under her father's favorite weirdwood, she doesn't know who she is anymore. She doesn't want to accept what she's found, what it means, because it means she's been living a lie. Because there's a box under the heart tree where her fath-uncle goes to console himself. Lyarra is terrified because it's memories of her aun-mother.

Lyanna Stark eloped with Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and became his second wife in addition to Princess Elia Martell.

Her mother is a princess. Sheis a princess.

Her true name is Visenya Targaryen and she's the only living child of Rhaegar Targaryen. She knows what happened to Aegon and Rhaenys, had heard the story from her fath-uncle. Everything she thought she knew is a lie, and Lyarra doesn't know how to feel. Is it a surprise? Had she known? Does she even believe this to be true? And what does it change if it is? King Robert will kill her, and her father, and Arya and all of her siblings if he knew the secret Ned Stark has kept.

But she's dreamed of dragons her entire life, envisioned a boy with silver blond hair on a boat. Maester Luwin said she had an imagination but maybe she had been dreaming of her family. Maybe they wanted her as much as she wanted them. Maybe the boy is Viserys Targaryen, who along with his sister had escaped across the Narrow Sea. They are in exile, if they are still alive. Her other family, across the Narrow Sea could be the family she was always meant to have. But they could be dead or starving. Maybe the Targaryens are cursed to die or to live in misery. She's keenly aware that many of her ancestors have married their sisters, and though it disturbs her, she thinks perhaps misery is the penance for the incestuous sins of her ancestors.

But the Starks - they're supposed to be her family. They're supposed to-. Lyarra chokes on a sob and then hears a twig snap and of course its Arya. Her favorite sist- cousin.

And Arya is hugging her and reading with her and she has someone. Someone who loves her. Someone who cares about her, no matter whather name is.

"But I can't stay here," says Lyarra shakily as she wipes the tears from her eyes, "I need to leave. There is nothing for me here. If anyone ever finds out-"

Arya is tearing up as she clutches Lyarra's furs but she nods because she understands and that night when the wolves are howling, Lyarra gathers together the few possessions she has, the box of letters and Ghost. Arya helps her shove it all into a rucksack and hands her a bag of coins that she'd kept in her sock.

"Where'd you even-" Lyarra begins but Arya just shoves it into Lyarra's hands.

"Robb gives me a silver every time I shoot better than Bran."

Lyarra chokes on a laugh because that's just like Robb and even more like Arya. Lyarra doesn't want to take the silver and gold from her little sister but she hasn't a clue how much passage to Pentos will cost her.

"Your aunt and uncle are there," Arya says, "I heard it so when I was sneaking last night."

"You've got to quit doing that," Lyarra says reasonably as she hugs her sister tightly. Her violet eyes are tearing up and Arya is starting to sniffle too and they hug each other so tightly that for a moment Lyarra thinks she shouldn't leave.

But she kisses her sister goodbye, presses a note for her father into Arya's hand, steals her horse and she and Ghost are on the road towards White Harbor.

Arya is surprised it takes three whole days for anyone but her to notice that Lyarra is missing. She had left on the last day of sword practice for the week, and two days of rest passed. It wasn't until Lyarra neglected to turn up for their practice that Robb and Theon realized that they hadn't seen Lyarra.

"Is she ill?" Robb questions Arya, who is not a very good liar.

She just shrugs her shoulders, trying to be truthful, "I don't know."

"I had no sight of her at supper last night," Theon points out and Arya wants to kick him in the shin.

"Maybe she has a bad belly," Arya tries.

Robb looks thoughtful, "Should we check on her?"

Arya panics, "I will do it! I'll bring bread and soup."

Robb smiles and pats her head, "You are a good sister, Arya. Let father know she's ill. She could need a maester."

Arya nods and darts off to the kitchen. She hides with the bowl of soup and the bread and eats it all even though it hurts her stomach since she's already broken her fast. But she has to cover up Lyarra's disappearance, and keeping anyone out of Lyarra's chamber is important. It's drafty in there, and there are little furnishings. Lyarra took what she had, and Arya again looks at the note that she had hidden in her pocket until the time was right to hand it over to her father.

The next morning, there's a sharp knock on her chamber door and both Robb and her father are looking at her stonily.

"Arya, please explain," Robb says, "Why when I mentioned to father this morning that Lyarra was not well he had no understanding of what I was saying."

Arya gulps and puts her hands behind her back, and she can see Rickon, Bran, and Sansa peeking from down the hall

"Where is Lyarra?" her father asks calmly, "Your siblings haven't seen her, and neither have I."

Arya stammers because she doesn't know what to answer. Is Lyarra far enough away that she can escape without her father's bannermen tracking her? "I-I-"

Then her mother appears and looks at her knowingly, "Did she leave, Arya? Perhaps with a man?"

Her father whips his head to look at his mother, and she has never seen him so angry. Robb just looks horrified, as though he is contemplating that his sister has run away with a stable hand.

"Tell me, Arya," her father says, his voice becoming louder, "The servants say she has not left her room, and yet Robb says you brought her breakfast and supper yesterday. Where is she?"

Arya swallows thickly, knowing she has to give an answer, "She left!" she finally blurts and then slaps a hand over her mouth. She's betrayed her favorite sist-cousin's trust! There is no honor in that!

"Where?" her father booms, "When? Why!"

Arya shuffles and then reaches into her pocket and hands a tiny roll of ripped parchment to her father. He takes it and unrolls it and Arya can see the emotions move across his face until he backs into the stone wall and slides to the ground.

"What does it say?" Robb asks urgently, trying to take the note that Ned grasps tighter and stuffs into his pocket.

"Send for Maester Luwin. We need to send ravens to stop her."

"Stop her from what?" Robb questions, "I don't understand-"

"She ran away!" Ned roars, and then turns to his children's mother, "You will pay for this, Cat. You've driven my blood from the only place she is safe. You've made me break my promise to her mother-" before he can continue he turns around and storms away.

Arya has never seen her father so angry and then Robb turns and looks at her.

"Where did she go? What does the letter say? You know something, Arya. Lyarra could be in danger. She's our sister."

"She's our half-sister," Arya hears Sansa say from a few feet away and Arya flies at her to rip her stupid red hair out.

Lady Catelyn breaks them apart and scolds them, and Robb is rushing towards the rookery.

I hope I stalled them enough, Arya thinks as the Septa makes her sit in the corner as punishment, I hope you're safe, Lya.

Across Winterfel, her father is at his desk, tears in his eyes, "I failed you, Lya," he says, "What have I done?"

She gets on a boat that's supposed to be going to Pentos but ultimately ends up in Lys. She has dreams the whole ride to White Harbor that haunt her, that whisper that Lys is where she should be. But she's afraid she may be found by her fath-uncle's bannermen before she can leave White Harbor. She's been gone for an fortnight, and the Starks must know she is gone by now. The next ship to Lys is over an entire turn away, long enough for the Manderly to send a rider to Winterfell to warn her family of her presence. If she waits, she will be forced back to Winterfell. So she boards the ship to Pentos, even though something tells her it's not where she should be.

In the end, it's only a minor setback. But if she wants to survive in this new place she needs to conserve her coins where she can. When she arrives in Pentos she waits for a reasonably priced ship to Volantis and offers to do laundry and upkeep on the ship in exchange for board and meals. The head matron looks unimpressed by her skinny ankles but finally strikes a deal with Lyarra. She hides Ghost in her bag, and buys a stock of dried meat at the market to feed him for the two turn trip to Lys. They make several stops along the way, first in Myr, then in Tyrosh and several islands in the Step Stones. Their ship goes off course twice, and by the time they see land, Lyarra realizes she's been gone from Winterfell for five turns.

When she arrives in Lys, Lyarra wants to kiss the solid ground because ships are awful. It's unreasonably hot here, and Lyarra only has three gowns that are light enough for the stifling heat.

She's terrified. What had she been thinking? Thinking she could make a life for herself in Lys, alone? Her Valyrian is terrible and she's already been propositioned by over a dozen drunken sailors thinking she is a pleasure slave who are only deterred by her drawing her sword. She knows barely enough to communicate, and her accent is so strong that anytime she speaks she knows that everyone can tell she's from the Seven Kingdoms.

She's been sleeping in a virgin's house, because it's the only place that will take an unmarried maiden, and she's been trying to get work as a governess. She has enough knowledge of geography, history, numbers, and sewing after being taught by Maester Luwin and (sort of) Septa Mordane that she could be a helpful governess. But each time she meets with a family, they do not hire her. She thinks it is because her Valyrian is awful, but then after learning a few new words from the women she boards with, she realizes that the ladies that have met her are turning away in fear she may seduce their husbands.

She thinks maybe she should not have come. Maybe her dreams steered her wrong. Maybe there is no family for her here. And even if there were, maybe they wouldn't want her anyway. Maybe they won't love her. Maybe they will hate her, just like everyone else seems to do. She's nearing six and ten and the only person who she knows cares for her is Arya. She breaks down and cries as she leaves the eighth manse she had visited looking for work. Will she have to go back to the North? Will Lady Catelyn have her beaten if she returns and they find out she was hiding in Lys?

She had only started with five gold dragons, had sold her horse for a gold dragon in White Harbor, and had paid ten silver moons for passage to Pentos. She had managed to conserve the coins she had until she got to Lys. But she paid the equivalent of a silver stag each night to stay at the virgin's house, with meals included. It wasn't a terrible price, and it would take her half a year to use another gold dragon but she had to feed Ghost (who the matron forced her to pay another silver stag a week to keep) and though she had brought her lightest gowns from Winterfell, she needed fabric to make cooler gowns for the oppressive Lyseni heat. Lyarra wonders how many beggar Princesses there may be in Essos, knowing she may soon be one of them.

She's thinking about this while choosing fabric to stich herself a gown. The other girls in the matron's house have recommended this old crone who sells for less to unmarried women but the prices still make Lyarra cringe. There are three bolts of fabric that entice her, one white and gold, another red and violet, and the final a natural warm beige. She thinks if she buys all three she could make two dresses from each of the first two bolts, and then small things and sleeping gowns from the last. It will cost her almost twelve silver stags, which makes her cringe. She's thinking about whether anyone will know if she forgoes small things to buy a smaller bolt of the last fabric when she meets him. She's not even doing anything special, just buying fabric to sew some dresses more suitable for the intense heat and she nearly drops the bolt of fabric she's examining because it's happening now

Because they meet eyes and she can't believe – they have the same eyes. His hair is dyed, blue like the Tyroshi do but as her eyes flutter and she breathes in sharply, she recognizes him. Because shehas that nose, and those eyes, and that same chin. This must be Viserys Targaryen. It could only be. She opens her mouth, wants to get his attention but he's already walking straight towards her and his eyes are saying something even though his mouth has not moved.

This is the man from her dreams, that she had dreamed of for her whole life.

He's real.

He's walking with such purpose that Lyarra thinks, maybe he recognizes her too. Maybe he had also had the dreams. And when he smiles at her as he gets closer Lyarra can feel the tears begin to pool in her eyes because it's so foreign to feel wanted by someone, anyone, besides Arya.

He puts his hand to her cheek and he doesn't say a word as he buys all three bolts of fabric plus two more that she had been eyeing earlier but had ruled out because they were too expensive and then leads her away from the market.

"Hello, Visenya," he says as he helps her onto his horse, "I am your brother, Aegon Targaryen."

Her brother Aegon has an entire party of men and women protecting him. Jon Connington, long thought to be dead, is posing as his father and a woman with dark violet eyes is teaching Aegon about the Seven. She's pretty, far too pretty to be a Septa but Lyarra ignores the odd feeling she gets when she looks at Septa Lemore because she is so kind to Lyarra.

Aegon is overjoyed that she's with them, "Finally!" he keeps saying, as though he had known she was coming, knew exactly where she would be so that they could finally meet. Perhaps he did know. Perhaps he had had the same dreams that lead her to Essos.

But now, she has a living brother and she doesn't care if he has the same dreams. She just cares that she has someone. She does ask him about it eventually, our of curiosity, and finally he gives her a warm smile and tells her that the visions are deep in him.

"You see the future?" Lyarra asks uncertainly.

"Is it so unbelievable?" Aegon parries as they stop for cold fruit under the hot Lyseni sun.

Lyarra thinks about the dreams she had had on her way to White Harbor that had made her decide to come to Lys even though it was the furthest she could get from the North. Finally she shakes her head and Aegon takes a long drink from his wineskin before offering it to her.

It's a Dornish red and her eyes water as she swallows a gulp and hands it back. Aegon just laughs and then hands her another tiny peach.

"I dream of the things I am meant to know," Aegon finally says as he leans back on the stone wall they sit upon, "I dreamt of you, of our family. Of dragons."

"That's why you believed me about my mother and father before I showed you the letters and the marriage paper," Lyarra pieces together, "You already knew."

"Just so," Aegon says, "So does Septa Lemore. You may know her as Ashara Dayne."

Lyarra turns gobsmacked. When she was young she had heard whispers across the castle that Lady Ashara Dayne was her mother, but then one day it went completely silent and Ashara Dayne was never mentioned again, "That's Ash- how did-"

"When your uncle took you from Dorne, Lady Ashara was with mother Lyanna. He rode North with you, and Lady Ashara rode for Sunspear to take a ship to me and Jon. She tells me they wanted us to be separated for our safety."

"That's why everyone thought she was my mother," Lyarra realizes, "They must have come up with the cover story together. But, Lady Catelyn said she threw herself from a tower after the Sword of Morning was killed."

"False," Aegon says pleasantly, "Ser Arthur is alive and well, and so is Ser Gerold. You've met them. They three sailed together."

Lyarra can hardly take all the news she is given, "So Ser Thurus and Ser Goldwyn-"

Aegon nods, "Just so," the he adds in a pleasant voice, "I've been telling them you were coming for years and they did not believe me. They knew you existed of course, they were there, at the Tower of Joy, when you were born. But they did not think you would ever leave the North."

"Would they tell me about my mother?" Lyarra asks with a hopeful breath.

"I can," Aegon replies, "I've dreamt of them all. They married in the Northern style, sister, under a heart tree in the Isle of Faces. I saw my mother, who was as eager to wed Lyanna as father was, and Rhaenys was there." Aegon snorts, "She was soexcited about having two mothers instead of one. She thought uncle Viserys would be jealous."

She shakily asks about Rhaenys, hoping maybe her older sister has been travelling, that she made it out of King's Landing just as Aegon did. But Aegon gets a sad look on his face before shaking his head and although Rhaenys had been dead by the time Lyarra was born she still hurts inside. Because she thinks it would be like losing Arya, Robb, Bran, or Rickon. Even the thought of losing Sansa hurts and the two hadn't been close for almost six years.

"Shouldn't we join our aunt and uncle?" Lyarra questions as the two explore Lys.

"We cannot," Aegon says as he tucks one of her raven curls behind her ear, "One Targaryen can hide, and so may two. But four would raise the attention of the Usurper." Aegon hesitates but continues, "And uncle Viserys is… very similar to our grandfather."

Lyarra's heart freezes because she knows, she understands what that means. It's the thing she is terrified of the most. She is afraid of the madness of her father's family more than anything else.

"He is too brash, and always catches the attention of the Usurper. He and aunt Daenerys constantly move because uncle Viserys refuses to hide our distinct looks."

He smooths his hands on Lyarra's hair and kisses her gently on the forehead, "You look more like mother Lyanna than father but for your eyes. They're beautiful," he whispers into her ear, "You are beautiful."

It makes her blush when he says that, and Aegon's smile is wider and gods this is wrong. She can't see her brother that way. She had never blushed when Robb complimented her the way her face heated now under Aegon's attention.

It's wrong. But it feels so right.

Aegon is as talented at the harp as Rhaegar was said to have been, and though Lady Catelyn had done her best to stop Lyarra from learning any of the important things a lady should learn, her own skills with the harp have always been unparalleled. Septa Lemore helps her refine her skills, and is teaching her everything from the Faith of the Seven to High Valyrian and the history of her family. It's odd, Lyarra thinks, to learn from a Septa, when Septa Mordane refused to even be in her presence for more than absolutely necessary. But Septa Lemore is different; kind. Probably because she's no Septa at all.

And throughout every day, Lyarra thinks Aegon might be romancing her. He is painfully sweet to her, so much so that it terrifies Lyarra. Because even though she isn't a bastard anymore, she's been one for so long she doesn't know anything else. And how could shedeserve his soft hands and his gentle kisses? Those things are reserved for ladies that wear silken gowns and marry lords in high castles. And she is no lady. Lady Catelyn and Sansa made sure she knew that.

She can't tell Aegon that she's a fraud. What will he think? He may throw her on the street, she thinks. Somewhere in her head she knows that would never happen, but the fear is there all the same. He smiled so sweetly at her, seemed to love her so dearly and yet Lyarra doesn't know if she will ever feel secure in her place beside him. It's nothing of Aegon's doing. It's her own insecurities, her own self loathing. She's holding herself back now, in place of Lady Catelyn because she doesn't know what it's like to be happy.

How could he want her? He could have anyone. He was a prince, albeit in exile, with wild lavender eyes and shining silver-gold hair. He was courageous, and well learned, and kind. He was perfect. And what was she? Some ugly little street urchin who hadn't been important enough to smuggle out of Westeros. And who her fath-uncle had raised as bastard. She could sew a gown, but couldn't embroider, knew how to read and write but had no knowledge of poetry. Lady Catelyn had never taught her to be a Lady. Not like Sansa.

And one day she drinks a little too much, has two cups of Dornish wine instead of one and her tongue is too loose. So she cries and cries and her wailing in her room brings Aegon because the Myrish guard at her door is worried something may have happened to the Princess.

Aegon knocks but when he receives no answer he storms the room only to see her drunkenly crying as she cuddles with Ghost. It spills out of her, the abuse from Lady Catelyn, hating herself for not being good enough. He knows everything now.

She tells him how she and Sansa had been so close, until Sansa had questioned why Lyarra did not take lessons with Septa Mordane and Lady Catelyn had replied that it was because Lyarra was not her daughter. And things had been awful after that. Sansa shunned her, and Robb tried to comfort her but he was a boyand had no interest in playing with dolls. All he ever wanted to do was play knights with Theon and Bran and they alwaysmade her sit alone somewhere to wait to be rescued. So she had retreated into herself until Arya had gotten old enough for the two to conspire. Their father said the wolf blood was strong in Arya and Lyarra could see it, felt the wolf blood herself.

She tells him how Lady Catelyn had clothed her only because she forced to, and made sure to never get her new fabrics, never new dresses, never new anything at all. All of her dresses had been made from fabrics that Catelyn didn't like enough to use for herself, and Lyarra's dresses were always made once Sansa had her pick of fabrics. How Lady Catlyn had convinced the servants not to give her enough food, and how Maester Luwin told her that it had stopped her moonsblood from coming until only a year prior. How the lady of the house had turned Wylla out, Lyarra's nurse and her only mother figure besides Old Nan.

She tells him how the thing that hurt the most was that through all of his honor her father had never stopped the abuse, had never forced Lady Catelyn to love her like she loved her own children. He had chosen to honor Lyanna by taking Lyarra in, but he had still been loyal to Robert. Hadn't he still chosen his friend over her?

"She didn't even have to hate me," Lyarra cries out through drunken tears, "If he had just told her, she would have understood! She-"

She's choking on her tears, choking on her sadness. Maybe she's giving Lady Catelyn too much credit but right now it's not her that Lyarra is angry at. It's Ned; it's Robert; it's the whole Known World.

But it's a step forward in their relationship because her trauma is on the table, laid bare between them. Now he knows exactlywhat she is, exactly how worthless she feels and why his love scares her.

Aegon doesn't try to fix her, doesn't try to stitch the broken pieces of her back together. He just holds her until her tears are exhausted and her eyelids are so heavy that she can't stay awake any longer. But she mumbles for him to stay, and to her surprise, he does.

He's even there when she wakes.

Her fath-uncle Ned has safely escaped murder by the hands of the Lannisters, but Robb has been declared King in the North, and he is marching to destroy the Lannisters.

Aegon wants to cheer at this development, "They will fight amongst themselves," he says as he steeples his fingers together over a cup of wine, "And then we will conquer the Kingdoms as they scramble to stop us. It's perfect."

Lyarra is horrified because, "Robb could die! Fath-Uncle Ned could die! Arya! Sansa-"

Aegon puts his hand to her cheek thoughtfully, "Sweet sister, I did not mean to upset you. Your mother's family is safe. Robb has gone to war, yes, but he's married the Tyrell girl to gain their allegiance. He has half of the armies in the Seven Kingdoms as both of the Usurper's brothers are defeated. It is true that Sansa is held captive in King's Landing but the Starks hold the Kingslayer as a hostage, so she is safe," Aegon continues, "No harm will come to your family, my love."

Lyarra wants to cry, even still, because he can'tpromise that. Robb is going to war, and Bran is crippled, fallen from a tower at Winterfell only weeks after she fled. Arya is missing. Her sibl-cousins are dropping like flies.

He holds her tightly as she sniffles quietly because he knows. He knows how hard relationships are for her, knows how much she loves her cousins. All Lyarra has ever wanted was a family that loved her without question. Lady Catelyn had been cruel, and so had Sansa. Robb had taken care of her the way an older brother did, and she and Arya were thick as thieves. Bran looked up to his sister, and Lyarra was the only one who could stop Rickon from crying when he fell and got scrapes and bruises.

But her fathe-Ned, had taken care of her, taken her in. She knew it was a sense of duty, and honor. And she knew that in some way, he did love her. But she had never called her his daughter. She was his blood, he would say, and now that she knew exactly what that meant it killed her inside. Because she loved him like a father and though she thought he returned that love he never said it.

But here is Aegon, who is always saying it. He says it so often that Lyarra can't believe that he's able to do it. He tells her he loves her constantly.

At first it seems platonic. He loves her as a brother loves a sister. But Targaryens do not love their sisters as sisters. They are always something more. Slowly, gradually, quietly, the I love yousbecome something new, something different. He says it reverently, quietly, with this look in his eye. It's a glint, and it is more possessive than the dragon itself. He holds her tighter, keeps her closer and there is nothing platonic about the way he says I love you.

He smolders when he says it, and he doesn't seem to care that everyone knows that he loves his sister as a man loves a woman. He tells her so as he leans closer to her as they explore the markets. "We are family," he says, "Why should you not love your family?"

Kissing him is not like she thinks it would feel to kiss Robb. The idea of kissing Robb makes her want to gag, even though he is a handsome man by all standards. Aegon is Aegon, all angles and strong limbs. The way his lips move over hers, and move over her skin awakens the fire in her.

"Lyarra," he whispers, "Visenya," he continues, "I care not your name, I care not your blood. It is youI love."

And his lips are trailing down her neck, and he's feeling her through the sheer chiffon fabric of her gown.

Maybe it's wrong, she thinks. They are siblings. She should be disgusted, she should be horrified that her brother feels this way. But she can't. She just doesn't care. Because she feels this way too.

And as his fingers trail across her skin and press under her smallclothes, she swears nothing has felt so right.

It's her nameday. She's now seven and ten and she's been with Aegon for almost two years.

Aegon wants to throw an extravagant celebration for her, but knowing it would catch too much attention, he instead showers her with affection. He gives her piles of gifts, and they dance around the manse without music. He kisses her all day. They lie in the warmth, lips dancing, fingers smoothing.

But the best gift comes a turn after. It's oddly quiet in their home until Aegon returns on a horse with a small boy clinging to his back. As he gets closer, Lyarra realizes it is no boy. It's Arya. She leaps with joy, scrambling from the manse and running to meet them and she's so excited to see her little sister that when the girl jumps from the horse Lyarra goes straight in to hug her, ignoring Aegon completely.

He isn't offended though, because he knows how much Arya means to his sister.

"Are you happy, sweet sister?" Aegon asks as Arya refuses to remove her arms from around Lyarra's middle.

Lyarra is tearing up because happy does not begin to describe how she feels. It's somuch more than just 'happy'. She is elated. She throws her arms around Aegon and in a shocking act of courage she kisses him so hard that Aegon stumbles back slightly. It's not their first kiss, obviously, but it's the first time she's initiated any of their intimacy. She usually lets Aegon take the lead, and he stops when she becomes uncomfortable, or it becomes too much. But right now he's kissing her back, truly, deeply, and Lyarra thinks perhaps this is what it feels like to have a family. To have Aegon; to have Arya.

She can feel Arya holding her tighter and the wrinkle of her nose, but also the smile on her face. That night she and Arya fall into slumber together, and Lyarra doesn't question why Arya sleeps with a dagger.

Aegon is away sometimes, training with Jon. And he's been away for two months before he returns to their home with a smirk that's so wide that it almost terrifies Lyarra.

He tells her he's secured the strength of the entire force of the Golden Company, and that he has finally gotten in contact with Daenerys who is leaving Vaes Dorthrak with a horde of Dorthraki, an army of unsullied and the Second Sons.

"The dragons and our combined forces are enough to take back the Iron Throne. Uncle Doran is sending forces from Sunspear, and the loyal vassals in the crownlands are preparing for our arrival. We leave for Myr on the morrow. Our aunt will join us there."

Lyarra pauses, "What of my br- Robb?"

Aegon notices the slip but doesn't make a deal out of it, "Your uncle Ned has taken back Winterfell from the Ironborn and crushed the Freys. Robb is preparing to march towards King's Landing to meet your uncle at King's Landing from two directions, from what Varys has told us. Which is why we must move with haste."

"Please," Lyarra whispers, "Don't hurt them, please. They're my family."

"Iam your family," Aegon says and Lyarra swears he is a true dragon in that minute because she can feel the heat radiating from him, "Iam your family," he repeats, more calmly this time.

"Yes," Lyarra says, "Yes, of course. But I lived with them and – please. If you just let me talk to them I swear they will be loyal. Starks are honorable."

Aegon pauses because although he has no hate for his second mother Lyanna, letting go of the anger against the Starks is difficult. But from Varys he had learned that Ned was one of the few who did not support the murder of his sister, or of his aunt.

"If they bend the knee I will let them stay in Winterfell. But hear this, sister, we will have all Seven Kingdoms. Not six."

Sometimes Lyarra wonders if perhaps Aegon doesn't care for her family. He would be warranted to mislike them for their part in the rebellion, but Lyarra thinks that his dislike may stem from something else. She had noticed early on that whenever she spoke of Robb, Aegon became distant, cold, almost jealous. Against her better judgment she asks Arya about it and her response is both helpful and unhelpful.

"That's stupid," Arya says, "Robb's our oldest brother. Why should Egg be jealous of him? Old Nan says Robb used to eat mud pies. He's an oaf."

Lyarra laughs at this sense of twelve year old logic but also comes to the realization that a sister is not a sister to a Targaryen. Mayhaps Aegon thought she had felt for Robb as she felt for him.

It takes her days to work up the courage to ask.

Aegon looks at her, "Do you?" he questions and Lyarra frantically shakes her head in the negative.

"No! That's- I can't even imagine how disgusting that would be. He's my-"

"Brother," Aegon finishes, slightly bitterly, "That's what you were going to say, isn't it?"

Lyarra feels embarrassed for her slip because she knows exactly how it may have sounded but she can't elaborate because Aegon continues, "But I amyour brother and you allow me to touch you as a man touches a woman. As a brother touches a sister in our family."

"It's different," Lyarra says cautiously, "I grew up with Robb."

"If things had been the way they should have been, you would have grown up with me and Rhaenys. And our father and our mothers. He would have wed all three of us."

"But that is the Targaryen way," Lyarra reasons.

"Ourway," Aegon stresses, "You are a Targaryen. You have been a wolf for many years, sweet sister. But you are also a dragon. Be a dragon. You must embrace our blood or you will never have a complete life." With that he leaves and Lyarra is left alone in her thoughts of Robb, Aegon, and dragons.

It takes three days for the pair to fix the sudden rift in their relationship. Aegon is giving Lyarra space to make up her mind, to come to terms with the fact that things have irrevocably changed for her.

She comes to him late at night and they stare at each other under the moonlight.

"It's hard," Lyarra admits, "Because you and Daenerys are the only family I have left. I've never met her, and though we've been here together for two years we know next to nothing about each other."

"I know the important things," Aegon argues, "I know your childhood, I know what makes you sad, what makes you happy. We know the things that matter. We can learn the rest on the way."

"To what?" she questions, "To the Iron Throne? To Westeros?"

"To our life together," Aegon says simply, "You are clever, my winter dragon. You know I would see us wed."

She does know. Because he's kissed her, and touched her, and worshipped her but left her a maiden. But she says nothing.

"Would you not see us wed?" Aegon questions and Lyarra thinks it is the least confident she has ever seen him. He seems afraid of the question he has asked, seems afraid she would deny him.

"I would like nothing more than to wed you, Egg," she says finally as she stands and sits in his lap, "But I am afraid that I am not enough for you."

"You are the blood of my blood," Aegon says as he brushes his lips to her cheek and neck, "You are more than enough for me. You are my family."

Daenerys and her dragons arrive seven nights later and Lyarra cannot help but give a shudder when her eyes meet the eyes of a cream and gold dragon.

"This is Visērion," Daenerys says noticing Lyarra's fixation on the docile dragon, "He is named for my brother, Viserys."

Just like Ghost, Lyarra can feel this beast, she isthis beast and as she hugs Visērion's neck she turns to her aunt and informs her that Visērion says she is a girl. Daenerys looks surprised, and Lyarra wonders if that is because she did not believe that Lyarra was the blood of the dragon. Were the dragons a test? As they get to know each other better, Lyarra decides this was probably not the case.

Daenerys is sweet and beautiful and sometimes scary. With her classic Valyrian looks, Lyarra cannot help but feel small next to her. Because she knows that when Aegon weds it won't be to her, but to Daenerys. Daenerys is everything a Targaryen Queen should be. She has sheets of silver hair, wide violet eyes, and skin as smooth as milk. It I said that the Dragon Queen is the most beautiful woman in the world. And she has an army and dragons, so she is a desirable ally. How can Lyarra compete with that?

And for some reason the thought that Aegon will never want her again hurts deeply. Because their shy kisses had become more ardent and Lyarra wants nothing more than to be with Aegon the way that a wife is with her husband. He's had his fingers in her and his lips around her teats but they are not wed. And Lyarra is reminded of that time and time again when Aegon puts nothing but his fingers in her maidenhood.

She hates herself for being like this, for even thinking of her aunt has competition. Her sweet aunt, who gives her warm hugs and is so kind to Lyarra that it makes her head spin. If Lyarra is honest, she could not even fault Aegon for falling for Daenerys. Lyarra thinks maybe she's fallen for her a little herself. She has never idolized a woman the way she idolizes her aunt, the way Arya had idolized her.

But then Dany tells her that she had been raped by her first husband, sold by her brother. Lyarra holds her when she cries, and she wants to cry herself. How could her uncle do such a thing? To the blood of his blood? Aegon would never treat her the way Viserys had treated Daenerys. And although some time has passed since she had wed at thirteen, Dany still seems traumatized by the idea of marriage, the idea of bending to another person.

She tells her niece about the witch who killed her husband and their child. Or, more specifically, Dany admits to her own childish mistake, to trust a witch and then putting her husband out of his misery. She tells Lyarra how the maegi had said Dany would never bare a child but for her own blood. How she had despaired because Viserys was dead and the witch had cursed her to never have children without her own blood. She could not be a mother without her brother, the witch had said, for there were no Targaryens left to give her the seed of life.

But then she met with Aegon, and Daenerys says that she realized that she wanted more than to be a lonely Queen on a throne. And then she told her about how she had rejoiced to see her nephew alive, about his promise that she could meet Lyarra if she travelled West. She tells Lyarra how she had smiled for days when she realized she wouldn't have to bare the Crown alone, when she realized that she could be a mother to more than dragons.

"A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing," Dany whispers as she holds Lyarra's hand.

They sleep together like children that night, and Lyarra holds Daenerys as she cries. As her sobs quiet Daenerys looks at Lyarra differently, with a sense of wonder in her eyes and Lyarra kisses her aunt for the first time.

Her lips are soft, smooth, not at all probing. It's different than kissing Aegon. Where Aegon is gentle and curious, Daenerys is commanding and domineering. And she likes kissing her, likes kissing Daenerys a lot, for she is warm like the sun.

They pull away from each other and Daenerys smiles and Lyarra is struck because she doesn't know how she hadn't seen how sensual Daenerys is, with her high breasts, her pink lips, and her rounded hips. As she cuddles together in Daenerys' solar, Lyarra thinks she would like to kiss Daenerys again, and can't help but feel as though that urge is betraying Aegon.

Daenerys is mischievous, and sly in a way that Aegon lacks. She gives Lyarra lingering looks as they eat their meals, and hugs her affectionately. Lyarra thinks Aegon sees nothing romantic in Daenerys's eyes, that he is ignorant to the soft touches and whispers that happen between the two girls. All he sees, Lyarra thinks, is the wonder of female companionship, of sisterhood.

Daenerys is assertive, and she is constantly near Lyarra, claiming what she considers to be her own. The dragon is possessive, this Lyarra knows.

"We cannot do this-" Lyarra begins, her lips and chest flushed "What about Aegon? You are meant to marry him."

Dany gives her a funny look, "I shall not be marrying Egg."

Lyarra is aghast, "But-"

"I thought youwere marrying him," Dany continues as she slips the strap of Lyarra's gown down her arm, "I know how you desire him. I see it in your eyes. And his."

"I-I," stammers Lyarra but she knows she cannot deny wanting something she cannot have, "I-yes, of course. He is brave, and smart, and kind and-"

"I am all of those things too," Dany teases, "Would you not marry me?"

Lyarra knows what the Westerosi think of women who love women. Septa Mordane had called them unnatural and slatternly. Lyarra had long had a crush on Edric Poole, Jeyne Poole's older brother (who hadn't looked her way a single time) and had never thought that she would feel for a woman the way she feels for Daenerys. Perhaps it is only Daenerys. Perhaps not. Lyarra is not sure about anything, currenly.

"What about Aegon?" Lyarra finally gasps as Daenerys wraps her lips around Lyarra's erect nipple.

"There is a simple solution," Daenerys says as she pushes Lyarra roughly onto the bed, "And you know exactly what it is."

Lyarra does know, she knows exactly what Daenerys is suggesting, but she forgets everything when Daenerys puts her lips in a place that only Aegon had even touched. Her tongue is warm and wet and perfect. It glides into her cunt slowly, and Lyarra's eyes roll back into her head as Daenerys watches her orgasm.

She's still sensitive, and in a moment of bravery, Lyarra brushes her fingers across Dany's lower lips. She's soaking, and Lyarra is nervous that she might make a mistake but she does what Egg has done for her and that night, as their limbs are intermingled, and her head is at Daenerys' bare breast, Lyarra realizes she can't help loving Daenerys Targaryen.

Arya Stark was once Arya Underfoot, and had long wished to ride a dragon.

"Please, Lya," Arya begs as she follows her cousin around her solar, "Visērion likes me."

Lyarra rolls her eyes, "That's not the word I would use, Arya. Just because she tolerates your presence and doesn't burn you alive doesn't mean she likesyou."

"Well I think she likes me," Arya says with a harumph.

"Fine," Lyarra says, "If you tell me what you were doing in Braavos."

The air gets colder and Arya grows stiff. This is one conversation they have not had. Arya has been in Lys and then Myr with Aegon and Lyarra for months. Every time Lyarra asks her young cousins how she ended up across the Narrow Sea she shuts down. And Lyarra can see it's happening again.

"Arya," Lyarra says as she bends to her cousin's height, "I am not asking for curiosity. I am asking because I care about you, and I am worried."

Arya deflates and sits down in the same manner she had been doing for so many turns. This is the Arya she is used to now, not the one who pestered her and ran around in excitement. This is not the Arya she knows and loves. This Arya is cold, collected, and without emotion.

"You'll hate me," Arya finally says in a small voice.

"I could never hate you. We're family," Lyarra comforts, as she strokes Arya's short hair.

"Promise?"

"I swear on Ghost," Lyarra replies.

Arya takes a breath. "I escaped King's Landing right as they brought father to the executioner's block, but I did not know that he escaped because I was dragged away, and then forced into a convoy travelling to the Wall. I met a Faceless Man on that road and I killed people," Arya says bluntly, "And my only friend was Sandor Clegane. We made it to Riverrun, where Robb and Margaery were supposed to be attending Uncle Edmure's wedding to a Frey girl. They killed everyone," Arya sobbed, "Then those Bolton traitors killed Grey Wind, and they killed both of Margaery's brothers. Then they sewed Grey Wind's head to one the Umbers and paraded him lost them in the fray, but mother, Robb, and Margaery were all hurt badly, and the Hound thought for sure all three were dying. So we left. We didn't know they managed to escape down the river back to Riverrun."

Lyarra is looking at Arya in veiled horror. How could she have kept this in for so long? And how had she managed to see so much? Arya was a child no longer.

"Sandor brought me to the Vale to give me to Aunt Lysa," Arya says breathing deeply, "And I just started laughing because she had been murdered too. Winterfell had fallen. The Hound and I heard that Bran and Rickon were dead. There was nothing left for me in Westeros except Lady Sansa."

Lyarra is terrified by how Arya sneers her sister's name, how angry she still is at her older sister.

"This is all her fault!" Arya cries out angrily, "She told the Queen we were leaving. She wrote that stupid note to Robb. All she cares about is her beloved Prince Joffrey!"

Lyarra doesn't stop Arya from airing her feelings. She needs to get past this, move on from the anger she feels over what had happened to her, and Lyarra knows that this is the only way that this can be done.

"So I used the coin that the Faceless Man gave me and I took a ship to Braavos. I wanted to find you, but I didn't know if you were alive. And I didn't know where you were. I just gave up and I became No One," Arya says ominously, "I finished my training. I know plenty of ways to kill people now. So I can kill every person who wronged our family on my list." She pauses for a moment, "I had my bag of faces, and then Aegon came to Braavos. I don't know how he found me, or how he knew I was in Braavos, but he offered to bring me to you."

"But you didn't know him," Lyarra finally speaks for the first time in the story, "Why would you go with him? A stranger?"

"Because he called you Visenya," Arya says, "And said that Ghost was waiting. So I knew he was real, I just knew. So I went. But I had to kill the waif, or they wouldn't let me leave."

Lyarra is speechless. How many has her younger sister killed? How many had met their end at her sword? She doesn't ask, because she doesn't want to know.

"Do you hate me now that you know?" Arya asks finally, her voice hollow as if she's ready for rejection. Lyarra knows that voice. She's used it her whole life.

"No," Lyarra says decisively, "I could never hate you, Arya. I'm glad you told me what happened. And soon we will go home, I swear it."

Arya hugs her so tightly she sort of can't breathe, "I wish youwere my mother, Lyarra." And gods does it hurt to hear that, because she knows what that means and hadn't she felt the same way? Hadn't she wished Lady Catelyn was her mother so she would love her? Hadn't she even wished that Wylla was her mother? Hadn't she wished that 'Septa Lemore' was her mother because she looked up to the woman?

Lyarra hoists Arya onto Visērion, and they take an exhilarating flight across Myr. In the end, Arya's tears are dry and she is all smiles.

Aegon is waiting for them when they return.

"We leave for Pentos at dawn," he says, "I've sent a messenger across the Narrow Sea to our allies on Dragonstone. They will contact your uncle for an alliance, and we will take back our throne."

"Can I come?" Arya asks.

Lyarra looks at her incredulously, "We're not going to leave you here."

"No," Arya says, "I mean, can I come help you take King's Landing? I need to finish my list."

Chills go down Lyarra's spine but she forces it not to show, "Who's there?" she finally asks.

"Joffrey. Queen Cersei. The Mountain," Arya replies ominously.

"Ah ah," Aegon chides, "You must leave The Mountain for my uncle Oberyn. Dorne has a score to settle."

Lyarra whips her head to the side, "You knew?" she demands.

Aegon looks at her curiously, "I did pick her up from the most infamous assassins' organization in the Known World," he points out.

Lyarra storms away in annoyance but Aegon turns to Arya, "Don't tell your cousin but I have word Joffrey is still alive."

Arya smiles a toothy grin.

They travel to Pentos to gather the last of their ships and soldiers and gold from Illyrio Mopatis. He is simpering, Lyarra thinks, and wholly unimpressed with everything except Aegon and the dragons. He and Daenerys' knight, Ser Jorah, are pestering the Targaryens about the line of succession. Illyrio suggests Aegon marry Daenerys, and Jorah suggests that Aegon marry from the Stormlands to gain their loyalty. No one thinks he should marry her, Lyarra notices bitterly. As usual, she's the last choice and it doesn't hurt any less than before.

Aegon opens his mouth before Lyarra cuts in, "Why can we not all marry?"

She can't believe she's said it, the thing she's been thinking of for so long, the thing that would give her both of the people she loves, both of the souls she feels complete hers. But if she does not say it, she will never know. It is silent as everyone stares at her so she continues, "Aegon the Conqueror had two wives why should not my brother?"

"The Faith will not approve of such a thing," Septa Lemore points out.

Aegon is looking at Lyarra with such an intensity that Lyarra is blushing. Maybe he does know what Lyarra and Daenerys have done in Daenerys' bedchambers. He certainly does not look surprised at Lyarra's outburst. "A dragon does not concern itself with the beliefs of the masses," Aegon finally says sagely, "And we are dragons."

"The dragon must have three heads," Daenerys continues, in affirmation.

"The dragon must have three heads," Lyarra repeats, far less confidently than Daenerys.

"We will wed," Aegon says firmly, "As our family has always done, and has done since Old Valyria. I shall wed my sister and my aunt within a weeks time."

"And we shall wed each other," Daenerys says as she steps closer to Lyarra to grip her hand tightly

Lyarra wants to step on her aunt's foot, because everyone is looking at them queerly. They will think them savages if they find out the kisses and soft touches they have shared. Lyarra loves Aegon and Dany, and both of them wedding Aegon is the only way that Lyarra and Daenerys can love each other. But she looks at Arya and her face is impassive. Maybe she knows? Or maybe she hasn't caught on?

Even if Jorah and Lemore look as though they have swallowed sour lemons, Aegon seems entirely unbothered, and Lyarra finally decides that Aegon most certainly knows the delicate proclivities between his sister and his aunt, "We are family," he replies, "We shall all love each other."

He says it with complete finality, and kisses both Lyarra and Daenerys on the cheeks before offering to walk them both in the gardens. When they return they make the final preparations to return to Westeros.

"The Velaryons and Celtigars will receive us on Dragonstone," Aegon declares, "They've taken our ancestral seat now that Stannis Baratheon is disposed of and are readying it for our arrival. The Velaryons have sent most of their fleet, and they are perhaps three days away from arriving in Pentos. That will give us the last of the ships we need to take the Iron Throne."

"And what of the city?" Dany asks, "We cannot rule a graveyard. How do you propose we take King's Landing without killing all of the smallfolk?"

"No dragons," Lyarra says and Dany nods.

"We are timing this so that we arrive just as the city is sacked. Robb Stark's Army is approaching from the South end of the city, and Ned Stark's from the North. The smallfolk will be gone. We only need secure the Red Keep."

"It seems too easy," Lyarra says.

"Well they've been fighting war for too long," Aegon says, "Their resources are nearly spent. And since we paid off the Crown's debt to the Iron Bank-"

"So that's what you were doing in Braavos!" Lyarra exclaims.

Aegon ignores her surprise, "It means the bank is backing us. They've refused to give any more loans to the Crown, and have demanded all of their loans from the Lannisters and their allies be paid in full."

Daenerys looks impressed, "A worthy scheme, nephew."

"I thank you," Aegon says with a tilt to his head, "Jon hated the plan because he does not trust the Iron Bank but it's working in our favor thus far."

"Speaking of the Crown debt," Lyarra cuts in, "When we take this throne, what will we owe and to whom?"

"Most of the Crown's debt is to the Lannisters," Aegon informs them, "I have no intention of paying that money back. In fact, I would like to seize Casterly Rock and all the gold within it but from what Varys has told us, there is little gold left, and the nobles would be unhappy. The Crown also owes a debt to the Faith of nearly a million gold dragons, and about that much to the Tyrells."

"We should pay the Faith first," Daenerys says, "They are dangerous."

"Would the Tyrells forgive the debt the Crown owes to them if we give them a seat on the Small Council?"

"Perhaps," Aegon says finally, "Varys tells us Mace Tyrell is an idiot. We may use this to our advantage."

"Why do you have to pay off all the Crown's debts now?" asks a voice from behind.

"Arya!" Lyarra exclaims, "I've told you not to eavesdrop.

Arya doesn't even apologize, "Didn't King Robert and Queen Cersei borrow that money? Shouldn't they be responsible for the debt? Maybe if he spent more time with Father when he was hand and less time hunting and whoring-"

Dany snorts but Lyarra pauses.

"Wait-"

Aegon turns, "Wasn't Petyr Baelish Master of Coin?"

Arya glares, "I hate Littlefinger, even though he was friends with my mother. He's creepy and he always looked at Sansa-"

"Robert spent, aye," Lyarra cuts in, "But everything Littlefinger touches turns to gold. Even in the North we heard about how he snuck his way onto the Small Council."

"You think he's plotting," Dany surmises.

"Isn't he?" Aegon asks, "Your father told the men we sent to rescue him that Littlefinger betrayed him. He's apparently excellent at levying taxes and making gold appear but somehow he's also making it disappear. And when Jon and I went to the Iron Bank, we had to work hard to convince them to call all the Lannister and their allies debts. They seemed unwilling, as though they had other plans."

"You think he's tried to do the same thing."

"No one has seen him since he left for the Vale to wed Lysa Arryn," Lyarra points out, "And he tried to take Sansa but she was caught."

They all share looks, "When we take King's Landing, we must go to the Vale and question him."

They wed four days later, all three of them, with a Septon. He looks unhappy about what he is doing but Aegon completely ignores the Septon's displeasure as he kisses both of his brides. They dance and drink, and the Dothraki revel in the celebration of the new Khal and Khaleesi.They are ready to retire, but Aegon, sensing Lyarra's nerves forbids the bedding and refuses to take his brides in front of the Khalasar as the Dothraki do.

He leads them to his solar, which is in between Lyarra's and Daenerys' in Illyrio's manse. As soon as he closes the door, Daenerys puts her hands in Lyarra's hair and plants a searching kiss on her.

Aegon says nothing, just watches as his wives kiss each other. Lyarra is melting in the puddle of wetness that is building up in her smallclothes. When Daenerys pulls away they are both flushed and Lyarra's lips are swollen. Aegon finally takes a step forward, and he begins to pull on Lyarra's gowns and tells her to begin to remove Daenerys'. He kisses down her neck and then Daenerys turns around and begins to kiss Aegon with Lyarra between. She feels fingers pulling her smallclothes and then Daenerys' teeth are at her nipples as Aegon's tongue is in her mouth.

They're all naked now, lying on the bed and Aegon has his fingers in her hole as he kisses Daenerys. He leans back, his cock standing proud and long and Lyarra thinks it is as beautiful as he.

"Take her first, Egg," Daenerys says enticingly as her fingers spread Lyarra's labia apart, "Look at her. Soaking."

Lyarra gasps and then moans loudly when her aunt moves to put her tongue to her cunt. It's too much, almost, and then Aegon is pushing his cock straight into her hole. He is gentle, but firm but Lyarra is afraid. Daenerys said that losing her maidenhead hurt and Lyarra is waiting for the pain.

"Be calm, sweet sister," he says, "I love you. I won't hurt you."

True to his word, she feels only a pinch when his cock is fully in and as she begins to relax, Daenerys swings her thighs over Lyarra's face, putting her wet cunt straight to her niece's tongue. Lyarra has never tasted a quim before, and thinks she would not like it if it were anyone but Daenerys, and she can feel Aegon's cock moving faster and faster as he mounts her harder and harder. He's ramming into her so deeply that it almost hurts. She can feel his cock hitting something and she stops licking Daenerys for a moment to cry out.

Daenerys looks at her with a heated gaze and then moves to kiss Lyarra again as she puts her backside into Aegon's face. They switch a moment later, Daenerys rolling to the side with Aegon's cock shoving into her from behind. Dany can taste herself on Lyarra's tongue and Aegon's thrusts are becoming erratic.

"Spill in us both, nephew," she demands, "And we should have two heirs rather than one."

Aegon grunts and then pushes Lyarra to lie atop Daenerys so their cunts are touching. He starts thrusting in Lyarra's hole again and she can't hep but moan like a Lyseni pleasure whore when she feels his seed shoot into her womb. It's hot and sticky and then he pulls his cock out, shoves it into their aunt and continues to spill into her. When he finally pulls out completely, Daenerys gently pushes Lyarra and they lay next to each other, cunts full of Aegon's hot seed.

"Might we be with child now?" Lyarra asks, because she knows not how long it takes to create an heir.

Daenerys smiles as she leans over and begins to play with Lyarra's cunt, the cum sticking to her fingers. She puts it into her mouth and then turns to Aegon, "It may take more seed than this, nephew."

His cock is hardening again, seeing them both spread before him, holes red and gaping.

He cums in them both twice more that night and Lyarra can feel sleep coming. She feels boneless, as though she hasn't slept in weeks. But Daenerys shoves a pillow under both of their wombs to keep Aegon's seed in the right place and they sleep until morning.

Lyarra dreads the boat to Westeros, because she dreads the boat ride. She had been sick for the days leading to their conquer, as had Daenerys. The boats made it worse. In fact, they had both had such bad bellies that Aegon had taken them each only a handful of times the entire ride. Aegon was concerned, but Daenerys was sure that it was a sign that they were both with child. Lyarra does not want to hope for a babe because she is afraid to feel disappointment when her moonblood comes.

Ghost is acting strange though. She keeps sniffing at her oddly, and she follows Lyarra everywhere. She refuses to leave their berth on the ship, even when Lyarra is otherwise engaged with Dany and Aegon. She just sits sagely, waiting for something. Lyarra thinks maybe her direwolf has sensed something she has not.

They take Dragonstone without any losses because the bannermen have already disposed of Baratheon forces. Stannis Baratheon is at the Wall, with little guarding Dragonstone. They secure the castle and release the dragons to hunt and fly. The loyal Targaryen bannermen are already waiting for them. Aegon is pleased to see the Velaryons and Celtigars, and shows their Valyrian allies both of his beautiful wives.

Aegon's uncle Oberyn has arrived with several of his daughters as well, and is hugging his nephew tightly. He presents him with a crown.

"Is that-" Daenerys begins.

"Aegon the Conqueror's crown!" Lyarra gasps with wonder in her eyes.

"Dorne has had it this whole time?" Aegon questions as her feels the weight in his hands.

"Just so," Oberyn says, "It was waiting to sit upon your head. Rhaenys' crown has been with us too."

Then he glares hard at Lyarra, still angry because the whole of Westeros believed that Elia Martell had been set aside. Aegon sees his cool behavior and sternly corrects him, "We may share blood only of our father but our mothers loved all three of us, and each other. You will treat Visenya as you would me. She is a Queen. And my family." Oberyn's attitude does change, but it takes a while. Eventually he does decide that he likes Lyarra. Lyarra likes him back, if only because he is witty and sarcastic.

As soon as they are settled, Lyarra calls for a maester, hopeful that both she and Daenerys have done their duty. She wants to give Aegon heirs, wants to honor their marriage. But she is terrified that he will set them both aside when they have done their duty. When she shares this fear with Daenerys as they wait, her aunt laughs loudly and kisses her on the cheek.

"Sweet niece, he would not set us aside. He fucks us both because he wants to put his cock into us, not just for heirs."

That calms Lyarra enough that when the maester examines them both and they give the good news to their husband, Lyarra is only slightly surprised when he still visits them in the evening.

They stay at Dragonstone for only three days. Enough to rest and gather supplies. Arya is anxious to get to King's Landing until Lyarra says that under no circumstances will Arya be drawing a sword in the Capital.

"It is not safe," Lyarra says, "You are still young yet."

"You're going," Arya bemoans, "And so is Dany."

"I must go," Lyarra replies with amusement, "How else shall Visērion burn our enemies?"

Arya has a look on her face that tells Lyarra that she has no plans to wait at Dragonstone for the battle to be won.

"Fine," Lyarra says, "You will ride upon Visērion with me. But you will wear armor, and if there is danger I will send you away with Ghost."

Arya hastily agrees and as they mount Visērion, Lyarra feels the words of both of her houses for the first time.

"Winter is coming," Lyarra says, "In Fire and Blood."

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of this story. I already have chapter 2 written, and I am about to start writing chapter 3. Once chapter 3 is written, I will edit and post chapter 2. Please review?