What If Rhaegar and Lyanna Made Their Marriage Public

Описание: What If Rhaegar and Lyanna Made Their Marriage Public?

Discord:   / discord  
YT:    / @threeeyedtheorist  
Voice Acting & Narration: Steven Waters @bobablackfly602

Let’s explore the depths of it in the video.

The road south from Riverrun winds along the same path as the Red Fork, and dust rises from beneath the hooves of House Stark’s destriers. Their direwolf banners snap in the wind above their heads. Rickard Stark rides out at the front, stern and silent, while Brandon beside him keeps an eager hand twitching on his sword hilt. The men behind the two Starks murmur in low tones, wary of what awaits them in King’s Landing.

It is not far from Pinkmaiden Castle when two cloaked riders appear in the path ahead, blocking the way forward. They sit atop their horses with easy confidence, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods. The Stark party slows, unease rippling down their formation. Rickard Stark raises a hand, causing his men to halt entirely.

The first rider lowers their hood from their face. Silver hair tumbles down their shoulders and gleams in the sunlight. Violet eyes regard the Stark party with a curious calm.

Rhaegar Targaryen (measured): “Lord Rickard. Brandon Stark. It does me good to see you both are well. It does me even better still to meet you for the first time, and to do so here rather than in the capital. No good awaits you in my father’s halls- Only death.”

Brandon Stark (Furious): “Where is she, you bastard? Where is my little sister? I’ll cut you to pieces to get the answer from your lips, if that’s what it takes!”

Brandon jerks his sword from his scabbard, steel catching the sunlight.The second rider removes their hood with a swift tug, and long dark brown hair tumbles loose. A young woman’s serious grey eyes meet Brandon’s own serious grey eyes.

Lyanna Stark: “I am here, Brandon. You will not cut him down, not while I live.”

Rickard Stark (shaken): “Lyanna, my dear…What madness is this? Speak the truth plainly, child.”

Lyanna Stark (firm): “There was no abduction. I ran with Rhaegar willingly, father. We met at Harrenhal. I was in disguise in the tournament, and when his father sent men after my secret identity he protected me and my secret. From that day I knew I loved him. We eloped to the Isle of Faces, and wed beneath the heart tree, before the eyes of the Old Gods. And Now…I believe I carry his child.”



Brandon Stark (snarling): “He has defiled you! You think i’ll let this stand? I swear, in the name
of house Stark, I’ll cut you down, Targaryen wretch.”

Rhaegar Targaryen: “Put down your blade, Brandon. I sought you out so we may speak before you are unfortunate enough to stand before my father and shout such claims. He would not be as forgiving as I am, I can assure you of that much.”

Brandon snarls and throws his scabbard aside to a Stark guardsman, who catches it with wide eyes. He raises his sword once more toward the Prince.

Brandon Stark: “No words! No parley! You will fight me and die, here and now!”

Rhaegar lays a hand on the hilt of his sword. Yet, he does not draw it.

Rhaegar Targaryen (calmly): “I will not bare steel in a lady’s presence without her leave.”

Lyanna Stark (exasperated): “Seven Hells! If you don’t fight him I fear he’ll bark at you until all of our ears fall straight off! Do it. But to first blood only. Do you hear me, Brandon? If you kill him and leave me a single mother, I’ll never forgive you!”

Brandon’s jaw works as he breathes hard through his nose. After many moments of cold hesitation, he gives a single sharp nod.

Brandon Stark: “First blood. No more.”

Steels whispers through the air as Rhaegar finally draws his blade. The two men dismount their horses and begin to circle eachother, their boots trailing meandering paths in the dirt. Brandon lunges first with a guttural cry, wild and furious, sword slashing out in broad and brutal arcs. Rhaegar meets him with measured parries, redirecting each strike with precise movements. The sound of clashing steel rings across the once-silent road, sharp and hard in the morning air.

The duel drags on, Brandon relentless and savage, Rhaegar measured and steady. Sweat beads on Brandon’s brow. As he tires, Rhaegar slides aside a vicious sword thrust and turns his blade quick as lightning: Opening a thin line across Brandon’s cheek. A droplet of blood falls into the dirt. Brandon jerks back, wiping at the blood with the back of a mailed fist, his eyes blazing.


#gameofthrones #gameofthroneswhatif #whatif