The room fell completely silent after Rhaella's confession.
Not the calm silence Lyanna had grown used to within the halls of Narnia, where quiet often felt warm and peaceful. This silence felt heavy. Unreal. It pressed against the walls of the chamber and left Lyanna staring at the older woman across the desk as though she had suddenly begun speaking another language entirely.
Her thoughts refused to settle properly.
Rhaella Targaryen.
Her father.
A child.
For several long moments, Lyanna could not force her mind beyond the sheer absurdity of the revelation. She simply stood there beside the table covered in supply records and shipment lists, staring blankly while Rhaella sat calmly in her chair with one hand resting over her stomach.
Finally, Lyanna managed to speak.
"How?"
Rhaella blinked once.
Then, to Lyanna's utter disbelief, she laughed softly.
"You are a grown woman," Rhaella said with visible amusement in her voice. "And this is your second pregnancy."
A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
"I do not think you require an explanation of how such things happen."
Lyanna stared at her for another second before dragging both hands down her face in complete disbelief.
"Oh gods…"
The shock loosened just enough for her thoughts to start functioning again. Questions immediately followed.
"When?"
That, at least, sounded more reasonable.
Rhaella leaned back slightly in her chair, her expression calming again. "During the temple foundation ceremony."
Lyanna blinked. "In King's Landing?"
Rhaella nodded once. "The entire North had arrived for the ceremony. Your father included."
A strange expression crossed Lyanna's face as she tried to remember that period clearly. The chaos surrounding the temple foundations.
But her father and Rhaella?
Together?
The image still felt surreal.
"We talked," Rhaella continued quietly. "One thing led to another… and eventually it simply happened."
There was no shame in her voice. No embarrassment.
"I am too old," she said softly, "to pretend it was some grand tragic romance."
A faint smile touched her lips again.
"We did not suddenly fall hopelessly in love."
Then, after a short pause, she added quietly,
"We were lonely."
That answer changed something.
Because suddenly the situation no longer felt scandalous. It felt painfully human.
Rhaella turned her gaze toward the open window beside the desk, where cold northern wind drifted softly into the chamber.
"It had been many years since your mother died," she said quietly. "And far longer since I experienced real affection myself."
Her expression darkened slightly after that.
"Aerys…" she exhaled softly. "Even before the madness fully consumed him, he was never a gentle man."
Lyanna remained silent.
Everyone in Westeros had heard stories about the Mad King, but hearing Rhaella speak about him so openly carried a different weight entirely.
"He enjoyed control," Rhaella continued quietly. "Dominance. Fear."
A long silence followed before Lyanna finally asked softly, "And after he died?"
Rhaella gave a small shrug.
"After he died, I remained a queen mother."
A bitter smile appeared briefly.
"A symbol. A political figure. A Targaryen."
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"But never simply a woman."
That sentence struck Lyanna harder than she expected.
Rhaella looked back toward her.
"And then your father came."
A small pause followed.
"He listened."
Another.
"He treated me like a person."
Silence settled again between them, but this time it felt softer.
"And then?" Lyanna asked carefully.
Rhaella's lips curved upward faintly.
"And then we drank too much wine."
Lyanna stared at her.
Then, despite everything, she laughed.
A short, startled laugh full of disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Quite serious," Rhaella replied calmly.
Lyanna shook her head slowly, still struggling to fully absorb the situation.
"But… you never told him?"
Rhaella's expression shifted slightly at that question.
"No."
"Why not?"
Rhaella looked down toward her stomach again, fingers resting gently against the fabric of her dress.
"Because I was not certain."
Her voice softened after that.
"I have been pregnant many times, Lyanna."
A pause.
"More than fifteen."
Lyanna's eyes widened slightly.
"Most never survived."
The words settled heavily inside the room.
Stillbirths.
Miscarriages.
Weak children who never lived long.
Years and years of grief hidden behind royal composure and polite smiles.
Rhaella exhaled slowly. "I believed this child might disappear as well. So I said nothing."
And suddenly the secret no longer felt dramatic or improper.
It felt fragile.
Painfully fragile.
"But now?" Lyanna asked quietly.
Rhaella's hand rested protectively over her stomach.
"Now," she said softly, "I think this child wishes to stay."
Lyanna slowly sat down opposite her.
The shock still remained, but it no longer felt unbearable. Strange, certainly. Unexpected beyond reason. Yet not truly wrong.
Perhaps Narnia had changed her more than she realized.
Years ago, the idea of her widowed father sharing another woman's bed might have angered her deeply. Westerosi customs would have demanded outrage, whispers, judgment.
Now?
Her first instinct was simply to wonder whether they were happy.
And judging by the calm expression on Rhaella's face—
They were.
Still, one thought continued bothering her.
"Father deserves to know."
Rhaella looked up immediately.
Lyanna's voice grew firmer. "Whatever the nobles think is irrelevant. This concerns him."
For the first time since the conversation began, Rhaella hesitated.
"You truly believe so?"
"Yes."
There was no uncertainty in Lyanna's answer.
"He should hear it from you," she said gently. "Not through rumors."
Rhaella remained silent for a long time after that. Then slowly, she nodded.
"I will tell him."
Lyanna released a slow breath.
Even now, the thought still felt surreal.
Her sibling.
Growing inside Rhaella Targaryen.
A child half Stark and half Targaryen.
The sheer absurdity of it nearly made her laugh again.
Instead, she covered her face briefly with one hand.
"This is going to shock Sirius."
Rhaella smiled faintly. "And Daenerys."
Lyanna groaned softly at the thought.
"Yes. We should tell them before Daenerys overhears something accidentally."
Because if Daenerys discovered such information secondhand, she would absolutely become offended.
And Sirius—
For all his reckless energy—
Could actually keep secrets surprisingly well when family was involved.
Rhaella's smile softened slightly. "He will probably be excited."
Lyanna snorted quietly.
"He is always excited when the family grows."
That much was undeniably true. Sirius loved fiercely, and family meant everything to him.
Lyanna slowly rose from her chair.
"Come," she said.
Rhaella looked mildly surprised. "Now?"
Lyanna nodded firmly.
"If we wait too long, Sirius will somehow discover it himself through one of the skinchanger birds spying through windows."
That actually made Rhaella laugh properly.
And together, the two pregnant queens left the chamber side by side.
One carried the child of Narnia's king.
The other carried a child that no one in Westeros would ever expect.
The letter was written entirely in Lyanna's own hand.
She sat alone near the tall window of her chambers while dawn slowly spread across the skies of Telmar, the cold sea wind stirring the curtains softly around her. Several crumpled drafts already lay discarded beside the desk. In the end, however, she abandoned every attempt to soften the message.
There was simply no gentle way to explain something like this through parchment.
Carefully, she sealed the letter with the dragon crest of Narnia before tying it securely to the owl's leg herself.
Father.
Come to Narnia as soon as possible.
Go to White Harbor and board any Narnian ship. They will bring you directly to Telmar.
It is urgent.
No explanation followed.
None that could possibly prepare Rickard Stark for what waited here.
The owl spread its wings moments later and vanished into the northern sky.
Lyanna remained standing by the window long after it disappeared, her hand unconsciously resting against her stomach as her thoughts drifted far away from Narnia.
Winterfell.
Her family.
So much had changed in only a few short years that sometimes even she struggled to fully comprehend it.
Rickard Stark still remained Lord of Winterfell officially, but much of the actual rule of the North had already passed naturally into Eddard's hands. And Ned had proven himself more than capable. The North was stable now in ways it had never truly been before.
Trade flowed steadily.
The roads remained guarded.
Food stores stayed full.
And perhaps most shocking of all—
Northern people no longer feared every winter as though it were a slow-moving execution.
Even Benjen Stark had surpassed every expectation anyone once held for him.
The thought almost made Lyanna laugh softly.
Benjen, the reckless youngest brother who once sneaked out of Winterfell simply for adventure, had somehow become one of the richest lords in the entire North.
The reconstruction of Moat Cailin had transformed the Neck itself. Vast rice paddies now stretched across lands once considered useless swamp, managed through a mixture of Narnian engineering, careful irrigation, and northern labor.
For the first time in generations, starvation had nearly disappeared from the North.
The Starks had prospered.
Their people had prospered.
Yet even amidst all that peace and progress—
Some truths remained buried.
Lyanna slowly moved toward the fireplace and sat down quietly, her expression turning distant as another memory surfaced in her mind.
Another secret.
One so carefully hidden that even she rarely allowed herself to think about it anymore.
Sirius Gryffindor.
Her son.
And yet—
Not truly Harry's by blood.
The thought still carried guilt no matter how many years passed.
Sirius had been born from her union with Rhaegar Targaryen. A child carrying both Stark blood and Targaryen blood in equal measure.
Harry had hidden that truth completely through ancient blood magic when he adopted Sirius as his own. The ritual altered Sirius deeply enough that even his appearance shifted as he grew older. Without it, the resemblance to the Targaryen bloodline would eventually have become impossible to hide.
Another silver-haired child would have raised too many questions.
And questions led to danger.
Harry had never wanted Sirius to question who his real father was. More importantly, he never wanted Sirius to think less of the man who raised him.
At first, Lyanna had feared Harry might unconsciously create distance between himself and the boy once the truth became real. Somewhere deep inside herself, she worried Sirius would always remain "Rhaegar's son" first.
But Harry had destroyed those fears completely.
He had loved Sirius immediately.
Without hesitation.
Every smile.
Every moment.
Real.
And because of that, Lyanna's guilt only deepened over the years.
Because for so long, she had been unable to give Harry a child truly born from both of them. Harry had never once blamed her for it. Never even hinted disappointment.
But she still carried the pain quietly inside herself.
Now, however—
Her hand rested gently against her stomach once more.
A small smile finally appeared.
Because this child would be Harry's.
Truly theirs.
And the joy of that realization still felt overwhelming every time she allowed herself to think about it.
A knock at the chamber doors interrupted her thoughts.
"My queen?"
Lyanna looked up as one of the servants entered and bowed respectfully.
"Prince Sirius and Princess Daenerys have arrived."
Lyanna nodded softly. "Send them in."
Moments later, the doors opened again.
Daenerys entered first, silver-gold hair loose around her shoulders, followed closely by Sirius. Behind them, however, three familiar faces immediately attempted to peer into the room before the doors fully closed.
"Out," Sirius said instantly without even looking back.
"But—" Obara began.
"No," Sirius interrupted firmly.
Nymeria narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're hiding something."
"Yes," Daenerys replied bluntly. "And you're not invited."
The doors shut dramatically in the Sand Snakes' faces.
A moment later, Obara's voice echoed loudly from the hallway.
"I hate secrets!"
Sirius snorted softly before turning back toward the room. "What happened?"
Lyanna exchanged a glance with Rhaella before motioning for them to sit.
Immediately, Sirius straightened slightly.
Daenerys dropped into a chair comfortably. "Is it bad?"
"No," Lyanna said softly.
Then after a short pause, she added,
"Actually… it's very good."
That only confused them more.
Rhaella drew in a slow breath before finally speaking.
"I'm pregnant."
The room went silent.
For exactly one second.
Then Sirius nearly exploded from his chair.
"What?!"
His eyes widened so much Lyanna almost laughed.
"You're serious?!"
Rhaella laughed softly at his reaction. "Yes."
Sirius looked utterly delighted.
"That means—"
He stopped abruptly mid-sentence before looking rapidly between Lyanna and Rhaella.
"That means another baby?!"
"Yes," Lyanna confirmed with a smile.
Sirius immediately moved closer to Rhaella with obvious excitement. "Can I touch?"
Rhaella blinked in surprise before laughing again. "You may."
Sirius carefully placed a hand against her stomach with absolute seriousness, as though he expected the child to start speaking immediately.
Meanwhile, Daenerys remained far calmer.
"Oh," she said simply.
Everyone looked toward her.
She blinked. "What?"
"You are not surprised?" Sirius asked.
Daenerys shrugged lightly. "As long as you let me play with the baby, I am happy."
Then Sirius burst into laughter while Lyanna buried her face briefly in one hand.
"That's your concern?"
"Yes," Daenerys answered seriously.
Then she paused thoughtfully.
"Also… when are we telling my brothers?"
That question sobered the room immediately.
Viserys.
Rhaegar.
The truth could not remain hidden forever.
Perhaps Oberyn had already hinted something to Rhaegar. Perhaps he already suspected.
But suspicion and truth were not the same thing.
Still, Rhaella no longer wished to hide.
Because she felt no shame.
No guilt.
Aerys Targaryen had been dead for years. Most of her life had been spent treated less like a woman and more like property traded between crowns and expectations.
Now, for the first time in decades, she had made a choice entirely for herself.
And she would not apologize for it.
Rhaella looked down gently at her stomach.
"This child is not a mistake," she said quietly.
The room became still.
"And I will not pretend otherwise."
Lyanna reached over immediately and squeezed her hand softly.
Sirius still looked overwhelmingly excited, already imagining another child running through the halls of Telmar.
And Daenerys?
Daenerys leaned thoughtfully against her chair before asking with complete seriousness,
"Do you think the baby will like me?"
Sirius answered instantly before anyone else could.
"Obviously."
Author's Note:
Enjoying the story?
Consider joining my Pat*reon to get early access to more chapters and exclusive fanfictions! Even as a free member you will get one extra chapter and you'll receive early access to chapters before they're posted elsewhere and various other fanfictions.Your support helps me create more content for you to enjoy!
Join here: Patre*on(dot)com(slash)Beuwulf