Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.9: Emotions

Lyanna lay in bed, staring at the canopy above her, the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the window. It was nearly 1 a.m., and despite her best efforts, sleep eluded her. The choices before her weighed heavily on her chest, each option carving deep furrows of uncertainty into her thoughts.

To stay and rebuild her life here—her friendships, her love, her identity in the Wizarding World—felt like a possibility slipping through her fingers. Yet, the other path called just as loudly: to embrace her destiny, to be the queen her mother never had the chance to be, and to unite the people of Westeros under the banner of the Targaryen name.

What if Westeros couldn't wait? What if her presence there was the only way to save it? But what if she stayed here? Could she salvage the life that seemed to crumble more every day?

Lyanna's head spun as she mulled over the choices, her breath catching with the weight of it all. Eventually, her exhausted body won out, and her eyelids grew heavy, pulling her into a restless sleep.

In her dreams, the world around her shifted. Lyanna found herself standing in the middle of an open plain, the ground cracked and dry beneath her feet. The sky above was a brilliant, fiery orange, swirling with the colors of a setting sun. Ahead of her stood a woman with flowing silver hair, her violet eyes piercing and familiar.

It was Daenerys Targaryen, unmistakable in her regal bearing and ethereal beauty.

"Mother..." Lyanna whispered, her voice trembling.

Daenerys smiled faintly. "My child. My heir."

The words sent a shiver down Lyanna's spine, and she hesitated before speaking again. "You're... real? Or just a part of my dreams?"

"Does it matter?" Daenerys asked gently. "You have questions, do you not?"

Lyanna stepped closer, her heart pounding. "I don't know what to do. This... destiny you've passed down to me. Is it really mine to take? Or do I have the right to stay here, to carve out my own happiness?"

Daenerys regarded her with a mix of tenderness and intensity. "What would you do if it were me asking the same of you? If I told you the future of our people rested in your hands? Would you tell me to turn away?"

Lyanna hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "No... I wouldn't."

Daenerys nodded. "Then you already know what I would want for you. To see you fulfill what was taken from me, to see you bring the Targaryen name back to its rightful place on the Iron Throne. But, my daughter, it is not my will that matters. It is yours."

Lyanna's voice cracked as she spoke. "But can't I have both? Can't I save Westeros and stay here? Be... happy?"

Daenerys' expression softened, though her tone was steady. "Happiness is a fleeting thing, my love. But strength... strength endures. The question is whether you are strong enough to claim the impossible."

Her mother's voice dropped into an almost ethereal tone, her words weaving into a riddle:

A dragon's blood may birth the flame,
But only a mind unyielding, untamed,
Can wield the fire, break the chain,
And tread where no path is named.

Lyanna's brow furrowed as she tried to decipher the meaning. "What does that mean?"

Daenerys stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Lyanna's shoulder. "It means the choice is yours, Lyanna. But know this: whatever path you choose, it will not be easy. Not for someone with the blood of the dragon."

The dream began to blur, Daenerys' form shimmering like a mirage. "Mother, wait!" Lyanna called out.

Daenerys' voice echoed as she faded into the horizon. "Be strong, my daughter. Be unyielding."