It was confusing to him. That idea made sense for Wenda, Chataya, and Genna since his and their intent was a babe anyway. But Rhaella, he didn't know anything about that. Why would the Queen desire to be bred anyway? It was a death sentence for her.
Yet, the theory made the most sense. It had been over a month and a half since he had bedded Ashara back in the Red Keep. By now, she had likely realized that she'd missed her moonblood, alongside other subtle symptoms.
Lyanna, a little too good at reading her husband, solemnly asked. "Who is it?"
"It wasn't supposed to happen, Lyanna. She didn't want this—none of us did. It's Ashara Dayne… she's with child." Wylis confessed, worried. "She… She might do something drastic. Like jumping off a cliff. Fuck, I must ride—now."
"Seven hells, Wylis, do you want to get yourself killed? You're hunted. You know that. A million golden dragons is the reward on your head." Lyanna scolded him angrily. "Let me do this, Wylis. I'm not Lyanna anymore. I'm Ellyn now. A mother, a stranger. No one looks twice at a girl carrying a babe. I'll visit her and… I'll think of something."
Wylis scratched his head in frustration. He didn't want to put Laynna in unnecessary risk anymore. He wanted her to reach Old Town right away and live there till the Rebellion's end. He felt the lack of trustworthy manpower at that moment.
Fuck!
Cursing, he tried to think of the best route for Lyanna to travel.
"Then I'll see you through the Princess Pass all the way to Blackmount. From there, you take the boat down to Starfall. Once you're there, find Ashara and get a ship to Oldtown. You'll be safe there."
"Oldtown? Why? Safe from what?"
"..."
Ah, shit!
Wylis just remembered. He hadn't told her about the rebellion yet.
####
Starfall, Dorne.
Ashara Dayne rested on the bed in her bedchamber. Although she was flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, she felt as if the world was rotating, the bed was moving underneath. She didn't know if it was a symptom or just her fear.
W-What should I do now? How can this happen? H-He didn't… He didn't finish in me!
Ashara was as confused as Wylis. But she was more scared. She'd already told her brother that she wasn't going to marry Wylis, and that the King's announced betrothal was dead. Yet now there she was, carrying the babe of the man who was in love with someone else.
It's my fault. I should've never gone to his chamber. I… I asked him for one last time. Gods, Wylis is already marked with a large bounty.
And yet, she found herself stupidly worrying for Wylis. It was hard to tell if she was in love, but she knew she was smitten by that man. Everything about him made her feel weak. His smile, his face, his body, his voice, the way he carried himself. And when he played with Rhaenys, she felt things she shouldn't have.
I'm so… so stupid.
It embarrassed her that she was less worried about the pregnancy. She was less scared of birthing a babe. Instead, she was more fearful of the damage it would cause her House.
She gulped, her purple eyes shaking.
W-Who… is the woman he loves?
That question she had asked herself too many times. She wanted to at least know for whom she was rejected.
In the end, all she could do was caress her belly and ponder. A way out, a way to fix the problem, and a way to save her family's honor.
####
Vulture's Roost, eight days later.
All preparations had been made to resume the journey. It was time to leave that ruined castle, and the last night there had approached. Yet, the air was full of depression and silence. Lyanna was told about the rebellion and what happened to Rickard and Brandon.
She blamed herself for it right away. She blamed herself for running from Winterfell. She cried, smacked her head against Wylis' chest. He comforted her by sharing the blame. That he should have never let her go, or maybe should have returned to Winterfell.
It pained him to see her cry so much. He tried to help her gather herself. He told her that Ned was out there battling as they sat there. That the North was going into battle against the South. Against the Targaryens.
Just hearing about the Targaryens, Lyanna seethed. She cursed Rhaegar and the Mad King in every breath. She cursed them for a fate worse than death. And Wylis promised that to her.
It took time before she stopped weeping. Then it took another day for her to gather her thoughts. She still had Ned and Benjen, so she tried to think about them.
On the last night, Lyanna rested on the bedding after feeding the babe. Wylis then tucked the babe carefully after ensuring he was clean and asleep. Diapers weren't a thing, so it was somewhat bothersome.
Finally, he crawled into the bedding. The ruined castle had enough space for some partially destroyed rooms. Qyburn slept where he made his small lab, and Wylis rested elsewhere with Lyanna.
Using some makeshift pillows, Wylis lay down beside his wife and pulled her into his arms, making her head rest on his bicep while facing him. She was awake, silent, her grey eyes dry and red from all the sobbing.
"You've got to be strong now, Lyanna." He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "The next few months will be tough. I'll join the rebellion and fight alongside Ned and Robert. The Targaryens have to fall—only then can I shake this damn bounty."
Lyanna nodded, rubbing her hand over his chest. It was pretty warm down South there so they were wearing simple, thin clothes. Lyanna was in a thin cotton gown.
Wylis hugged her tighter, possessive of her. "After all this madness ends, I'll have my own lands, a keep to call ours, and a Lord's name to wear with pride. That's my vow to you."
"Wylis…" She murmured.
He tilted his face to look at hers. Those grey eyes were on the verge of crying again.
"Make love to me."
Wylis frowned. "It's for your well-being. We should wait six weeks—four, at the very least."
"Just a little." She insisted with a pleading voice. "Not rough. Just… enough to pull me under. I want to feel only you… nothing else. Please, make everything else go quiet."
In that faint, flickering candlelight, Wylis eyed the sleeping baby in the makeshift crib. Then, he nodded at Lyanna. "I'll be slow and gentle."
Quickly, Wylis removed his cotton tunic and trousers without getting up. He then dragged Lyanna's loose gown up and removed that as well. As both of them lay naked, Wylis shifted sideways beside her, like a massive wall eclipsing a pebble.
Lyanna also turned sideways towards him, he scooted closer to her, dug one forearm under her head, keeping his torso raised on one elbow. Then, he leaned his face in to kiss her, at the same time, his other hand went down, caressing her soft belly, then between her toned legs. She willingly raised her knee and rested it on Wylis's waist, allowing him easy, wide access to her petals.
"Ummmmh…" Lyanna moaned into his lips instantly.
The sound vibrated through his mouth, soft and needy, as if everything inside her was coming loose all at once. Her fingers threaded into his thick hair, clutching at his scalp, his nape, his jaw, like she couldn't decide which part of him she needed more.
Her kiss grew slippery, greedy. She suckled on his tongue, whimpering softly into the hot seal of their mouths, her nails scraping gently over his shoulder as her knee lifted higher along his side.
Wylis answered with quiet hunger, his lips never leaving hers, but his movements careful. She was slight, barely taking up half the bedding. His arms could have wrapped twice around her waist. And with a cock the size of his, he'd learned restraint the hard way. He couldn't afford to lose himself in her fully, not tonight, even if she was one of those who enjoyed that side of him.
His hand drifted down the plane of her belly, fingers spreading wide to feel the tender softness there, then lower.
Her legs opened for him instinctively, and she breathed against his mouth as he cupped her mons with one broad palm.
His middle finger found the heat of her core, teasing along her warm folds in lazy strokes. She was already wet, slick with need, sticky with anticipation. He smeared her slick around with care, coating her swollen lower lips. Then he finally pushed that thick, calloused finger inside her.
"Ahhhh…" The moan she let out was deep and helpless.
It was as if her mind was slipping free of everything: Winterfell, the rebellion, the grief. All gone. Only this remained, only him.
Their kisses deepened. Her tongue tangled with his, and he could feel the tension draining from her limbs as he slowly fingered her, pressing deep with that one thick digit, never rushing. Her body responded to him, lazy clenches, sweet throbs that pulsed around his finger like a warm, wet mouth.
She broke the kiss only to gasp against his lips. "Mmmm… Yes… a little more… Wylis…"
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