The Song of Ice and Fire {Rhaenyra Targaryen}

Part II Prologue

This is super long so be ready :)

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As Stormfyre's fire reigned on the enemy soldiers below them, Lyanna couldn't say she'd ever been more at peace. It was a strange concept, feeling peaceful while burning hundreds of soldiers alive, but it was what Lyanna felt, not that she would tell anyone except maybe Daemon. It's not that Lyanna enjoyed killing, or perhaps she did; it was the feeling of freedom that war gave her. She could make her own decisions and lead her army as her father taught her. She didn't have to worry about Rickon attempting to force a marriage on her for political purposes; she could tell him to fuck off and be done with it, which she had multiple times.

She loved her brother; all things considered, he was doing a good job leading, but Lyanna still thought he was incredibly naive. He still held out hope for an amicable solution with the Boltons and their allies, as if they hadn't killed their father in cold blood and made the image of his dead, flayed body their new house sigil. And even if Rickon was willing to move past that, Lyanna had burned their home and beheaded the old Lord Bolton before his wife and soldiers before placing his head on a stake at their front gates. Peace was no longer an option. The rebels needed to be shown what happens when you defy the crown and your oath, and Lyanna was showing them.

The rebels had lost every battle they entered with the Starks and their allies. They lost hundreds of men in every battle and returned for more. It was no secret why the young Lord Bolton had never fought in a battle he so valiantly ordered his troops to in the name of justice. Word spread quickly of the young Lord Bolton's short temper and tendency for tantrums over the prospect of Lyanna using her dragon in battle.

Lyanna thought that was a load of shit to excuse his poor planning and inability to know when to give up. Lyanna hardly used Stormfyre in battle, having a far greater appreciation for marching into battle alongside her soldiers. She had killed more men than she could count, and if she had allowed herself to stop for even a moment, that knowledge would likely catch up to her. So Lyanna didn't stop. She fought in the daylight and planned with her war council by night, functioning off as little sleep as possible.

Lyanna was brought back to her reality as she looked below her, seeing Bennard motioning for her to touch down below. "Ninkiot Stormfyre!" Lyanna commanded, and Stormfyre quickly obeyed and touched down along the treeline behind their forces. Lyanna slid down her wing and looked back up to Stormfyre, "Go home, sweet girl." Lyanna soothed as she stroked the dragon's face and pushed her toward Winterfell, where she would rest in her recently finished Dragonpit. Shadow quickly ran to her, nuzzling her head into Lyanna's hip. She had almost grown to full size, her head now reaching Lyanna's waist.

It had been two years since Lyanna left the Red Keep to fight this war. Two years of working herself bare, bloodying her hands and the Northern soil alike. But she would do it all over again for her Princess. She and Rhaenyra hadn't spoken much over the two years. They did at first, but they both got busy with Rhaenyra preparing for her ascension, making changes on the council, and Lyanna Commanding her army. Though their communication faltered, Lyanna's love for her Princess never did.

As Lyanna approached her brother, her right hand, he looked troubled. "What is it, Brother?" Lyanna asked. Trouble in paradise?" she teased. Her brother's wife, Margaret Karstark, another of Rickon's failed attempts at peace, had just had their first child, Benjen, mere months ago. Lyanna truly felt for Lady Margaret, whose father had promptly turned back to the Boltons the second she married Bennard.

"Margaret is pregnant," Bennard says, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek. "Congratulations, brother! Another little monster for me to teach!" Lyanna replied happily as she pulled her older brother into a tight hug. "Now, let us go. Don't die out here!" Lyanna says as they run to the battlefield, Shadow and Greybeard following closely behind. The archers had been holding the enemy soldiers in place while Lyanna and Stormfyre thinned out their numbers, but now more were approaching, her men rushing to meet them. Lyanna drew her sword and let out a loud battle cry, her soldiers quickly joining in as the two armies mixed in blood and mud.