With a frown marring his brows, Rhaegar Targaryen led his horse deeper into the forest, following the trail that one of his Kingsguards might have left behind. His indigo eyes scanning left and right, gauging the ground for signs of footprints, hooves marks or any kind of disturbance on the earth.
Passing beneath the low branches of an oak tree, he leaned forward and ducked low to avoid the branches. His long silver hair cascading on either side of his face and obscuring his sight for a few seconds.
And it was enough time for someone to slip into his unguarded side and pulled him off his horse.
As he had already been leaning forward on his saddle, Rhaegar lost his balance completely. His unknown assailant dragged him easily off his seat with surprising force.
In the same moment, he heard the sharp note of his sword being drawn out of its scabbard just as he toppled off his horse.
He managed to tuck in and roll. Pain shooting up his arm and his left shoulder when he crashed on his left side.
Grimacing, Rhaegar reached for his sword, prepared to attack the person who had ambushed him, only to discover that his attacker had already remove his blade, and judging from the clang of steel in the distance, the person had flung it out of his reach.
Rhaegar looked up and was able to catch a glimpse of sun-kissed skin, a soft-sloping jawline and rosebud lips, shortly before the stranger slipped away from his periphery with a flutter of brown tattered cloak.
He started to stand up, his body tensed and ready to spring into action, but the blow to the back of his neck stopped him.
The last thing he remembered was the sensation of fingers threading through his hair and then hovering over his pulse a moment before he slumped on the ground.
.
A gentle prod on his back and the feeling of cold steel pressing against his neck woke Rhaegar up. His eyes slowly fluttered opened.
Blinking, he tried to process everything around him and discovered soon enough that Rhaegar was on his knees. His wrists were bound tightly together where its connecting rope was securely tied to the low-lying branches above him.
The lack of weigh at his hip told him that his short sword had already been removed. Other than his missing sword, Rhaegar felt the absence of the hidden daggers on his boots, clearly his attacker had searched him thoroughly for other possible weapons and had completely disarmed him.
"You should cut your hair short, your grace," a familiar voice broke through Rhaegar's thoughts.
He couldn't see the face of the person who was responsible for his current predicament, but he knew that voice very well.
Rhaegar remembered hearing it while the person had expressed gratitude upon receiving a token from him. Then, before that, he had heard it spouting a string of colorful curses at him which would have sent any court ladies blushing.
"It's very impractical for a man of your intelligence and station to keep it that long." The person stated. "Just imagine someone pulling your hair while you are trying to cut a man's head off during a battle. That, your grace, could cost you your life."
Rhaegar was tied up, and yet there he was, listening to the most bizarre discourse he had ever heard under the circumstance, and about his hair of all things.
But it seemed there was no end to the momentary absurdity because he answered without thinking, "That's what the helm are made for, I believe. To protect one's head and… hair."
By this point, Rhaegar was silently wondering why he had even bothered to respond. Granting that this was the second time he had reacted nearly foolishly in the person's presence; he shouldn't be so surprise, and he even added almost as an afterthought.
"And I usually have my hair braided before I go to battle."
His statement was answered by a snort from the person standing behind him.
Rhaegar decided that it would be wise of him to stop talking and not give the person more ammunition to use against him.
He already knew who would dare mock him in front of his face, or rather, at the back of his head.
That female voice couldn't be anyone else.
The one who was holding him captive was none other than Lyanna Stark. The same girl whom he had crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty. The main subject of a hundred rumors that made people questioned Rhaegar's faithfulness to his wife.
Rhaegar should have known that nothing good would have come out of the gesture, for trying to placate a very angry and unpredictable young woman whom he had nearly fatally wounded.
When his father had ordered him to look for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, Rhaegar had half-expected it to be a young man beneath those unfit, rusted armor, and not a she-wolf with flashing grey eyes and a sharp tongue, which might as well be as good as any Valyrian steel with the way she had curse at him the moment Rhaegar had unmasked her.
And if it weren't for the roots which had cause the girl to stumble during their confrontation, Rhaegar would have certainly hacked her head off and not simply knocked her helm and unintentionally put that nasty lump on her head.
Despite his title as the Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne, it hadn't stop Lyanna Stark from unsheathing her claws and baring her fangs at him, calling him many a foul name which had left Rhaegar Targaryen quite speechless and wide-eyed.
That had been the first time someone had addressed him in such a discourteous manner and the experience had been extremely disconcerting for him.
Thereafter, Rhaegar had gone to great lengths to find a way to apologize to the girl for unintentionally hurting her, and to finally put a stop to her worrying glares directed at him every time they were in the same room.
It was only through whispers he had heard in passing when Rhaegar learned that Lyanna Stark loved the smell of Winter roses.
Rhaegar knew it was very difficult to find those kind south of the Neck, not unless he had won it in the tournament. Thus, he had joined the list and won the winter roses for her. Although, in truth, there was another reason Rhaegar had done it; a far more treacherous reason than what others believed.
Rhaegar found out that the girl had heard his meeting with some of the Lords he had invited for the Tourney. She had been sneaking into the armory to get her armor when she happened to hear Rhaegar's plots against his father. And Lyanna Stark had threatened to reveal his secret if Rhaegar as so much as breathe a word of her identity as the Knight of the Laughing Tree to the King, it was only fair that Rhaegar had to make his threat known as well.
He had given Lyanna Stark those roses to remind her to keep her lips sealed, of the secrets that they vowed not to share with anyone; not even to his wife or the girl's betrothed.
No one should ever know.
It was a blackmail for a blackmail.
Normally, he would never stoop so low to resort to such shameful methods and it saddened him that he had done so, but Lyanna Stark was an unpredictable element that could very well ruin his plans in dethroning his father, whose madness seemed to have worsen as months passed by.
Either way, both of them were sure to be executed if their secrets were ever revealed.
And now, there they were again.
It seemed the Gods weren't quite done with them and had purposely led their paths to converge once more. Rhaegar was sure that nothing good would come out of this fated meeting. For the girl was reckless as she was willful.
Lyanna Stark was simply a walking rebellion.
"Why have you been following me, your grace?" She finally asked him, "Have you finally revealed to your father about the part I played in the tourney? And now, he has ordered you once more to take me back for the King's Justice?"
The dagger dug dangerously close against his neck and Rhaegar remembered that he was still under the mercy of a very unpredictable girl.
"No," He answered, his pale brows knitting. "I have kept my promise in keeping your identity a secret, my lady. I was not even made aware that you were…traveling in these parts."
If Rhaegar did, he would have made certain to avoid her. Traveling in the same direction as her would simply fuel those ugly rumors of him being unfaithful to his wife, even more so if they were seen in the same company together. People might even start thinking that he had abducted her, or some such.
"Then, why have your men pursued me?" He heard her asked. "I haven't done anything to provoke them into taking such actions."
"Was it you who has been eyeing us from the market?" he inquired, recalling how his Kingsguards had been alerted when they noticed a person doing just that.
"Yes."
"Then, you did, my Lady. However, perhaps not intentionally…" Rhaegar remarked, wanting to see her reaction but the dagger against his throat prevented him from moving.
"As you know, we were on our way to Dorne." He explained, sensing her moved. He heard the crunch of dead leaves as the she-wolf finally stepped into his line of sight.
Rhaegar blinked as his indigo eyes settled upon a face covered in grime. His frown deepening when he scanned her rugged figure from head to toe.
He noted that the girl had hacked her hair short at the chin level - she must have done it in a hurry as her hair was uneven. Lyanna Stark was also wearing men's clothing that was too large for her. There was a smear of dirt and mud on her face, and parts of her clothing, obviously to pass herself as a pauper boy
It seemed Lyanna Stark had a rather rougher journey compared to Rhaegar and his Kingsguards.
Rhaegar's concern must have shown in his expression when the girl glowered at him in warning, clearly misliking his sympathy.
He wisely did not to comment and decided to continue with his explanation, "We were in the market buying supplies when my Kingsguards spotted a person surveying our group and acting so suspicious. Since you told me it was you, my knights assumed you were an assassin who was sent to kill me. It's the only reason they followed you, my Lady. They wanted to interrogate and make certain that you weren't there to harm me."
"Unfortunately for them I'm not someone they could catch so easily," was the Stark girl's dry answer, finally withdrawing her dagger from his neck.
She didn't stash it away as Rhaegar expected, but kept it in her grasp. He guessed the girl didn't trust him not to attack her.
"Yes, clearly." He murmured still holding her gaze.
Silence reigned as they regarded each other in the same way that they had done the first time when their swords had clashed, albeit Rhaegar had been unaware of her identity.
The silence stretched on while Rhaegar noticed how the girl remained tensed, standing a safe distance away from him - too far for him to sweep a leg out and take her unawares if he ever wanted to.
Lyanna Stark knew exactly what she was doing when she captured him.
Clever. Rhaegar thought, his admiration for her had increased. The girl had already shown her exceptional skills in sword-fighting and jousting, and now apparently, in stealth and underhanded tactics as well.
If she could prove her skills in the battlefield as she did now, he would not hesitate to make her a Knight.
It was Rhaegar who broke the silence first by asking, "How long have I been unconscious?"
"No more than five minutes or so," came her cool response, twirling the dagger in her hand, which Rhaegar realized was actually his.
He watched her as she deftly threw the blade in the air before catching it by the hilt or at the tip, and then twirling it around. She played with the dagger like it was a toy even while her steel-grey eyes remained focused on him, no doubt confident that she wouldn't accidentally drop the blade or cut her hand.
"And what have you done to my Kingsguards?"
"I've led them to the traps that I have set up to delay and shake off pursuers that might be following me." She told him, catching the dagger by the hilt before lowering her hand down.
Traps? He thought and asked in concern, "Are they alright?"
"Yes, apart from the injuries that they have obtained after triggering my traps, they are mostly alive."
Rhaegar was relieved. He supposed Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell wouldn't be too happy to hear that they had been outsmarted by a Northern girl.
If she had the time to set up those traps, she must be in this area for quite a while.
"How long have you been staying around these parts?"
"Enough time to create the traps and buy some provisions." Lyanna Stark responded evasively, crossing her arms in front of her.
She has been stealing not buying. Rhaegar realized. He could hear it plainly in her voice and see it from the way she held herself defensively.
And judging by her appearance, either she had run out of money or she was robbed. He supposed more of the latter. Moreover, Rhaegar didn't see her horse anywhere. It meant the girl must have already sold it in the previous town that she had come across - a wise decision as people was sure to remember her if she kept the same horse, making her traveling route that much obvious to those who were following her.
In silence, Rhaegar inspected the girl again. The last time he had seen her, Lyanna Stark had had a fuller figure and a healthy color on her face. Now, she appeared half-starved and hollow-eyed - traveling alone and keeping a watch out at night for possible dangers could do that to you.
"Seeing that you are without an escort. I gather that you have run away from your home?" Rhaegar guessed, though he didn't know what prompted the girl to do so.
"Yes," the girl replied in clipped tones, pursing her lips.
He was curious about her reason for running away, but the hard glint in her eyes told Rhaegar not to press further.
"Where are you going?" He asked instead.
There was a moment of silence as Lyanna Stark scrutinized him this time.
"You said that you and your men are traveling to Dorne." She stated and Rhaegar noticed that she was choosing her words carefully.
"Yes."
"How many days will it take going there?"
"Around seven days from here if traveling by the main road."
There was another pause as Rhaegar watched her think this over.
A moment later, the girl sighed at last and said, "Since you don't carry a map with you. I'll make do with what I have," which confirmed Rhaegar's suspicion that she had search him and the pack his horse was carrying.
Indeed, Rhaegar didn't have a map of Westeros in his belongings. He had no need of it as he was familiar with the terrain going to his wife's homeland.
"And what do you have?"
"You." She answered, smiling mockingly and Rhaegar Targaryen had a good sense to feel slightly alarmed when he saw it.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked warily.
"I mean that I'm taking you with me."
Turning her back on him, she went towards his horse where she had tied the bridle at an adjacent tree.
"Or rather I'll be accompanying you." The Stark girl clarified while Rhaegar watched as she began to unwind the bridle from the branches. Afterwards, she guided the black steed in his direction and halted the horse in front of him.
Rhaegar slowly stood up and met her gaze. Lyanna Stark walked around the horse to stand a safe distance away from him, still holding the bridle in her left hand but now using her right to point the dagger at him.
"As it happens I'm headed to Dorne as well," The girl elaborated, "And since I've already sold my horse, you and I will be sharing yours to travel to Dorne."
"What?"
The girl made an impatient sound.
"Do I have to constantly repeat myself in front of you, your grace? And here I thought you have a good ear for music, and yet you are incapable of keeping up with one simple conversation?"
Once more, Rhaegar Targaryen was rendered speechless at her blatant insult.
"Like I said, I'm escorting you to Dorne." The girl repeated. "Now, kindly please climb up the horse and we will be on our way, your grace."
She added an emphasis to his title as if it could make up for the way she insulted him not a moment ago.
Rhaegar's mind finally caught up to what she saying and said, "And how am I supposed to climb up the horse when my hands are still tied?"
He raised his hands to show her. Rhaegar wasn't planning to go with her, of course. He merely wanted to be freed and then convinced Lyanna Stark to go back to her home, or make certain that she did, despite the protests and curses that the girl was sure to shout at him.
The girl's family must be worried sick by now and it was Rhaegar's duty to return her where she rightfully belonged.
"I think you can manage," came the girl's wry answer, not moving from her spot.
Rhaegar frowned.
"Your grace…" Lyanna began in a calm voice, when Rhaegar remained standing. "-I will not untie you, not until we reach Dorne."
He stared at her, suddenly realizing what she was on about.
"You're not really escorting me to Dorne, my Lady." He stated, his voice no longer sounded soft nor gentle as it had taken in a steely note to it. "But you're abducting me."
He observed as Lyanna Stark cocked her head to the side, her gaze becoming cautious. Rhaegar didn't know what she saw in his face, but it must be something forbidding to make her hesitate just so.
"You can call it whatever you wish. But it doesn't change the fact that you will be coming with me, whether you like it or not, Princeling."
Clearly, the girl was mad. Who would be foolish enough to hold him captive and abduct him? Him, the Prince of Dragonstone? The Heir to the Iron Throne? Most would think of it as an act of treason, but the girl seemed not to think so.
"My Lady, I apologize if I don't agree to your demands in –"
"And perhaps I might need to gag you up as well."
Rhaegar immediately clamped his mouth shut, stupefied at her blunt words.
"Please understand, your grace." She started, this time speaking softly, "I don't trust you, even if you are the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms,"
His brows rose up in question.
"- yes, especially that. I need you to help me get to Dorne and I can't do that if I am constantly afraid at the possibility of being attacked and dragged back to Winterfell. Do you understand?"
He could only gaze at her mutely.
"I know what kind of man you are and I am certain you feel obligated to return me to my family now that you know that I ran away."
She was right. He did plan to have her return home by either of his Kingsguards while he continued his way to Dorne.
"But I don't want to go back." Lyanna Stark's eyes became imploring. "So I need to keep you tied up while you help me reach Dorne. But it will only be a temporary arrangement. I will release you once we are there, your grace. Of this, I promise you."
She tried to assure him and Rhaegar knew that she wasn't lying.
However, it didn't sit well with him to be held captive by her for days. He also wouldn't let her run away to wherever she planned to go.
She stared at him, her eyes beseeching.
"Please, please cooperate with me as I do not want to hurt you. We've wasted enough time as it is. Your Kingsguards were still trap the last time I checked, but give or take six hours or so, they will have manage to free themselves by then. It will be great to have a head start as I do plan to be gone before your knights can catch up with us."
I need to delay her then, Rhaegar decided and opened his mouth to -
"Don't make me gag you with my dirty laundry, your grace."
That shut Rhaegar up. His eyes had gone slightly wide at the girl's threat.
Lyanna got an immense satisfaction of seeing the prince gaped at her like a fish.
"Now, do you need an assistance in climbing up your horse?" She waved her dagger to let him know what kind of help he would be receiving if he, indeed, need it.
They must leave there soon, but the Prince merely gave her cold look for an answer.
It always surprised Lyanna to see this side of the Prince; the razor-edge in his voice she had heard earlier, or the coldness in his gaze when he looked at her in that moment. She took him for a person who was often gentle, soft-spoken and demure - better than any court lady - with his head constantly in the clouds and playing his harp and singing those sad, sad songs, but Rhaegar Targaryen had proven to her that there was more to him beneath all those layers of courtly manners and propriety.
The Prince of Dragonstone had a spine after all and he wasn't a sodding pansy like she had first assumed.
It had come out as a shock to her when she discovered him plotting against his father, though she couldn't fault him for wanting to remove the Mad King from the throne as she knew restoring King Aery's sanity was a lost cost.
Prince Rhaegar would make a better King than his father. Lyanna truly believed that. However, she was still very angry at him after the tourney at Harrenhall.
Lyanna had been frightened when the Prince had singled her out during the tourney, leading his black horse in front of her and then placing the laurel of Winter Roses on her lap. She remembered how his long silver hair and red cloak had trailed behind him when he had ridden his horse towards her family's stand. Admittedly, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had looked rather handsome then in his night-black armor.
He appeared otherworldly with the rubies in his black chestplate gleaming like fire opals while his deep indigo eyes had been hooded when he had stared pointedly at her – no, intensely at her, like he was branding a scarlet target mark on Lyanna's forehead for the King to see and then have his archer put an arrow on it.
He might as well have accused her of being the Knight of the Laughing Tree in front of everyone than crowning her the Queen of Love and Beauty.
In that moment, she felt, rather than saw, when all the smiles had died as the Prince Rhaegar had favored to crown her instead of his wife. She had anticipated for the axe to drop down her neck as Lyanna had stared at Prince Rhaegar, who had waited for her to place the flowers on her head. It felt more of a hangman's noose than a crown at all.
Any ladies would have swoon at the chance for being crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty - and by the Prince no less - but not Lyanna Stark. No. She had nearly bolted away from her seat when the Prince had come galloping atop his horse towards her.
But when he was already there, Lyanna had contemplated about throwing herself at him and start pulling his hair. That hilarious image made things easier for Lyanna to grit her teeth and say her thanks to the Prince while silently promising him bodily harm with her eyes.
The laurel of winter roses had been a threat.
Now, she didn't feel mildly guilty for capturing the Prince.
Their secret game wasn't quite over yet.
.
It seemed that her captive didn't want to make it easier for her.
Prince Rhaegar hadn't mounted up the horse even after a whole minute of glaring had past.
So Lyanna had to use a different tactic.
"I suggest you follow what I say or you'll find yourself missing your precious family jewel, Prince." Lyanna said softly, pointing the dagger towards the Prince's groin.
"Are you truly threatening me with castration, Lady Lyanna?" The Prince asked, looking angry now, which was the first Lyanna had ever seen him show in his face.
"Not a threat, your grace. Just giving you a friendly warning of what runs through my mind at the moment if you don't climb up that horse."
The Prince narrowed his indigo eyes at her for a few seconds more. And he must have grown tired of arguing with her because a moment later he finally put his foot on the stirrup and grabbed the pommel to lift himself up unto the saddle.
Lyanna observed how the man's deep indigo eyes fleeted to the bindings wrapped tightly around his wrist and then following the line of rope connecting to the low branches above them.
He wouldn't be able to escape with the horse even if he managed to take the bridle from her. The Prince would only end up falling off his saddle as the rope would inevitably pull him back.
Prince Rhaegar was sitting stiffly when Lyanna began to lead the horse forward by the bridle. Her mouth quirking at the corners when the Prince was forced to lift up his arm and arch his spine to keep himself from being unseated.
With the Prince's arms raised forcefully above him, he wouldn't be able to do much as Lyanna prepared herself to leap into the saddle and ride off with her royal baggage.
"One more step forward and I'll fall from the–" Prince Rhaegar was saying, but Lyanna had halted the horse and she was already moving.
Swiftly, she run and launched herself into the saddle, using the pommel to lift herself up and settle herself in front of the Prince. She did this in a matter of a few seconds.
Rhaegar Targaryen was so startled by her sudden movement that he missed the moment when Lyanna slashed her dagger up and cut off his ropes that connected it to the branch. Then, with his wrist still tied together, she hurriedly brought the circle of his arms around her and have him hold her around the waist, so that he won't fall off once they start moving.
Another flash of her hand and Lyanna threw the Prince's dagger. It spun from end to end before it embedded itself with a 'thunk' at the trunk of the tree, chipping a bark next to the note which she had carved for the Kingsguards' to find.
Lyanna leaned securely on the saddle and said to the man who had frozen up behind her, obviously disconcerted at their close proximity.
"You better hold on tight, Prince. We will have a rough ride ahead of us."
And with that, Lyanna took the reins in her hand and prodded the horse into a canter at first. She ignored the masculine chest and the heat pressed tightly against her back, or the inappropriate way she was almost sitting on top of the Prince.
"I advise you not to try anything foolish," She warned him just as she soon prodded the horse into a full gallop. "A fall from on top of a horse, and at this speed, can be fatal for either of us."
The wind rushed against them while Prince Rhaegar remained silent after she said those words. The rigid way the man held himself told Lyanna that he found their position uncomfortable.
Lyanna ignored him and concentrated on guiding the horse across the terrain, parallel to the main road that lead to Dorne.
Everything became a blur of color thereafter as they barreled through the forest, crashing through bushes and leaping above boulders which caused the Prince's to tighten his grip around her waist. At the same time, Lyanna had to swallow hard when she realized that she was practically bouncing off the Prince's lap as she leaned forward on the saddle.
She could feel the flex of the man's powerful thighs beneath hers while his front was rubbing dangerously close to her. Another lunged and Lyanna was sure to face other pressing matters down there.
Lyanna maybe many things – stubborn, quick to anger and impulsive - but she wasn't ignorant, nor was she a simpering maiden. (She was untouched, yes, though she was not one of those girls who titters when a handsome man so much as paid her a smallest bit of attention.) And hearing bawdy jokes between the stable hands, guards and other men in Winterfell, gave Lyanna enough reference to know what went on between a man and a woman in the bedchamber.
So, she knew at once that she would come to regret the seating arrangement later.
However, since this position would be convenient for her if the Prince's Kingsguards manage to catch up with them. With Prince Rhaegar sitting behind her, she could use him as an effective shield to stop his men from possibly attacking her from behind.
Hence, changing their position was beside the point.
The Prince would have to contend with the current seating arrangement.
I've taken the Prince with me.
Thank you for the laughs, good Sers.
Best of luck for trying to find your swords.
With all my love,
Lyanna Stark