The Penitence of the wolf - The Night of the Thousand Tears - Part 1. (Patreon)

Rhaegar Targaryen, the Red Keep – King's Landing.

"This is outrageous! Those... animals have committed the greatest mistake of their miserable lives. I demand that..." the High Septon spat, his voice dripping with indignation after hearing the news regarding the fate of the Starry Sept in Oldtown.

"I would advise you to watch the tone you use when addressing me, Septon. I understand your indignation, and both my father and the Lords of the Realm are already taking care of the situation. So spare me your foolishness and tell me why you've truly come," the Prince replied without the slightest trace of courtesy toward the obese man.

Lyanna's influence without a doubt, Rhaegar thought with amusement, barely suppressing a laugh as he watched the mixture of disbelief and outrage spread across the fat man's face.

The High Septon opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, stammering helplessly as he desperately searched for something—anything—intelligent to say.

"I... I..." the man babbled, prompting the Prince to roll his eyes before interrupting him sharply.

"If it brings you any comfort, my father exterminated every single Ironborn who attacked Oldtown, and every dragon, stag and penny recovered from the Greyjoy fleet shall be used to rebuild the city by Royal Decree. A situation that is, by every conceivable measure, advantageous for everyone involved," the Prince declared solemnly.

The members of the court immediately began murmuring amongst themselves, the overwhelming majority clearly approving of the King's decision. The merchants and scholars present appeared particularly pleased, considering most of the Lords had already departed alongside the King to wage war.

The comments reaching Rhaegar's ears were, for the most part, remarkably positive. Support for his father's actions remained exceptionally high, and the Prince even overheard several members of the court proposing additional improvements for the city, such as expanding Oldtown's drainage system or improving the harbor facilities.

Those decisions, however would belong to House Hightower.

Unfortunately...

And to absolutely no surprise whatsoever, there was one individual inside the Throne Room who clearly found nothing to celebrate.

The obese and insufferably foolish Septon wasted no time making his opinion public.

"But... this is outrageous! That gold belongs to the Faith! It was stolen from the Starry Sept and..." the revolting man began spewing one absurdity after another.

The Prince cut him off immediately.

"And the gold my father recovered from the Greyjoy ships shall be used to aid the people of Oldtown and rebuild their city, precisely as the teachings of the Faith of the Seven preach, Septon," Rhaegar replied firmly, his icy violet eyes locking directly onto the obese priest, openly daring him to challenge the authority of the House of the Dragon.

As though the Prince's words alone had not been intimidating enough...

Sun Strider unleashed a deafening roar from high above King's Landing.

The tremendous bellow shook the very walls of the Throne Room, reminding every man and woman present exactly who truly held power in Westeros.

"AGHGH!" the cowardly man cried out, instinctively raising his terrified gaze toward the ceiling while the rest of the court watched him with barely concealed amusement, several nobles openly laughing at the spectacle.

Pathetic, the Prince thought with thinly veiled contempt before speaking once more.

"Now then... let us concern ourselves with matters that actually deserve our attention. Lady Cersei, are there any remaining affairs that require the Crown's judgment today?" Rhaegar asked calmly, shifting his attention toward the young Lioness.

"Yes, Your Grace. A detachment of Legionaries assigned to patrol the newly completed roads has requested an audience to report several attacks against merchant caravans. In addition, representatives of both the Merchants' Guild and the Scholars' Guild have arrived with a number of petitions they wish to present before the Crown," Cersei replied with her customary composure.

Rhaegar nodded softly while straightening his posture upon the Iron Throne.

"Then show them in, my Lady. Let us finish today's business once and for all," the Prince declared firmly, making it abundantly clear that, at least publicly, the matter of the Faith had been concluded.

Publicly...

The Prince watched from the corner of his eye as the obese High Septon stormed out of the Throne Room, his face twisted with fury, every movement radiating indignation.

And therefore...

Entirely predictable.

With perfect discretion, Rhaegar leaned slightly toward Cersei and spoke in little more than a whisper.

"Have your men move into position. I'll notify Lya when it's time to give the signal. Tonight... we'll rid ourselves of this plague once and for all."

The Lioness never allowed her expression to change.

Her face remained as impassive as ever.

Only those calculating emerald eyes betrayed the satisfaction she was feeling.

It was obvious.

Cersei had been waiting for this day...

Perhaps even longer than Rhaegar himself.

The Faith had been a constant headache for the Crown for far too many years, always searching for one excuse or another to hinder King's Landing's progress. They endlessly preached nonsense about tradition and the wrath of the Gods before the court, while secretly bribing and hiring bandits to sabotage the construction projects taking place throughout the city.

Oh, they had been remarkably discreet about it, using two or three intermediaries to distance themselves from the crimes. But against Lyanna's intelligence network, combined with Cersei's contacts and informants, Rhaegar had become aware of each and every one of the Faith's rotten machinations.

The Prince quietly snorted.

Deep inside...

He was immensely satisfied.

Everything had finally fallen into place.

Tonight...

Everything would end.

The plan itself had been conceived by Lyanna. The wildfire had already been completed and carefully transported into the sewer tunnels surrounding Baelor's Sept. The only truly difficult part had been ensuring that every last rat gathered together in the same place at exactly the same time.

And that...

That was where Lyanna's brilliance had revealed itself.

In the young she-wolf's own words...

"What does a weak man with power do the moment he feels insulted?"

He seeks revenge.

And because the High Septon was a pathetic creature entirely incapable of carrying out such vengeance by himself...

He would simply do what he always did.

Send others to perform his dirty work.

For the moment, however, Rhaegar refused to dwell on the matter any longer. He would finish today's court session, spend the afternoon with his wives and his daughter...

But tonight...

The Dragon would go hunting.

That...

Was a promise.

Lyanna Stark, the Red Keep – King's Landing.

Lyanna remained completely motionless for several long seconds before the enormous window overlooking the capital. From here she could observe every corner of King's Landing without the slightest difficulty.

The sun had already begun descending beyond the horizon, while the streets gradually filled with warm lights as daylight disappeared behind the waters of Blackwater Bay. The new wildfire lanterns Rhaegar had commissioned throughout the city slowly came to life one after another, allowing the capital to remain vibrant and alive even beneath the darkness of night.

It was...

A truly magnificent sight to behold, the young she-wolf thought, her hungry grey eyes calmly wandering across the sprawling cityscape with a tranquility completely at odds with someone standing on the threshold of such a decisive night.

Not a single one of those people imagined that while they shared supper with their families, drank ale with old friends, or buried themselves between the legs of some eager whore...

Dozens of men and women were moving invisible pieces across a board that would decide the future of the Realm itself.

"It never ceases to amaze me."

Elia's gentle voice softly broke the silence, causing Lyanna to turn toward the entrance of the royal chambers.

The Dornish Princess had approached without making the slightest sound, carrying a small silver tray in her hands. Upon it rested a pitcher of fresh water, several herbal infusions, and a small wooden bowl releasing the delicate fragrance of mint and lavender.

Lyanna's favorites.

The Stark maiden smiled gratefully.

"You always do this before stepping inside the mind of one of your little companions."

Lyanna answered with a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"It's an old habit."

"From the North?" the Dornish Princess asked curiously as she sat beside her and slowly began caressing the young she-wolf's thigh, earning nothing more than a warm smile and a slow shake of Lyanna's head.

"No."

"It's mine."

Elia laughed softly before placing the tray upon a nearby table and gently pressing her lips against Lyanna's.

As always, the young and enthusiastic wolf maiden immediately melted into the kiss, letting out a soft moan against the Princess's lips as Elia's mischievous and experienced hands lovingly massaged her sensitive breasts.

Almost instinctively, Lyanna attempted to deepen the kiss.

Unfortunately...

Prince Rhaegar's amused voice interrupted them.

"My dear Elia, leave our little wolf alone... at least until tonight's mission has been completed. Afterwards... we may celebrate for the rest of the night."

Lyanna released an adorable little squeak of surprise before blushing furiously as she met the Prince's openly amused—and undeniably hungry—expression.

Rhaegar entered the royal chambers with complete calm, closing the door behind him as naturally as though nothing unusual were about to occur before walking straight toward his wife and claiming the Princess's lips in a deep, sensual, and utterly dominant kiss.

As always...

Elia surrendered instantly.

Perfectly content to allow the Prince to take whatever he desired from her body.

Lyanna could do nothing but bite her lower lip and raise her gaze toward Rhaegar, waiting rather impatiently for her own turn while barely suppressing another needy moan as she watched the Prince's hand slowly glide beneath Elia's dress, gently caressing her womanhood.

"Ohhh... Rhaegar!" Elia moaned breathlessly, rolling her eyes as she instinctively pushed her hips forward, seeking even greater friction against her husband's teasing hand.

Alas...

All three of them already knew that tonight was not meant for pleasure.

Tonight...

Was meant for duty.

Rhaegar slowly withdrew his hand, leaving behind a softly panting Elia, before walking with firm, unhurried steps toward Lyanna, who never once broke the Prince's hypnotic gaze.

With infinite tenderness, Rhaegar caressed Lyanna's cheek before slowly bringing his still-moist fingers to the young Stark's lips. Without hesitation, and without breaking eye contact for even a single heartbeat, the she-wolf obediently parted her lips and welcomed them into her mouth.

The salty taste of Elia immediately flooded Lyanna's senses.

It was a familiar flavor.

An exquisite one.

One that, over the years, had become a cherished and increasingly common part of her life.

Unfortunately...

Far too soon for her liking.

Rhaegar slowly withdrew his fingers from her lips, looking at the young Stark with unmistakable amusement dancing in his violet eyes.

"Duty first... pleasure afterwards, my little Wolf," the Prince said with obvious amusement, earning an adorable pout from Lyanna while both he and Elia laughed warmly at her reaction.

"Is everything in position?" the Wolf Maiden asked as she walked toward the comfortable armchair Rhaegar had specifically prepared for those long nights when Lyanna practiced her gift.

Prince Rhaegar nodded softly while dragging two additional chairs beside the armchair, one intended for Elia and the other for himself, making it perfectly clear that neither of them intended to leave her side throughout the entire operation.

The simple gesture filled Lyanna's chest with a warmth she struggled to describe.

She swallowed nervously before slowly reclining against the chair.

The plan itself was remarkably simple.

Objectively speaking...

There was virtually no danger.

The High Septon and his followers expected soldiers.

They did not expect animals.

Settling comfortably into the chair, the raven-haired maiden instinctively reached out and took both Elia's and Rhaegar's hands, unconsciously searching for reassurance.

She received it immediately.

"Remember, Lya...Oberyn is already in position. The moment you give us the signal that every rat has entered the nest, we'll wait the entire night if necessary. And I promise you... Elia and I shall remain right here beside you until dawn," her beloved Prince said solemnly before lifting her hand and placing an extraordinarily gentle kiss upon her knuckles, making the young Wolf Maiden's heart begin beating much faster.

Lyanna swallowed once more before slowly leaning back and closing her eyes, deliberately calming her breathing as she recalled every lesson the King had ever taught her.

The young Stark carefully followed every step, searching for the countless invisible bonds connecting her to the creatures of the world with a touch that was at once delicate and firm. She first located her beloved hawk sleeping peacefully upon one of the towers of the Red Keep, only to move swiftly past him toward the magnificent snowy owl that had become her newest companion, finding her soaring gracefully through the night skies above King's Landing.

Without wasting a single second, the Wolf Maiden instinctively tightened her grip upon both Elia's and Rhaegar's hands.

At that exact same moment...

Her eyes rolled completely white.

An instant of absolute darkness immediately gave way to the breathtakingly sharp vision of King's Landing at night.

The city stretched endlessly beneath her.

Royal guards patrolled the avenues and narrow alleyways with remarkable discipline and precision, while the main streets remained alive despite the late hour. Entire families wandered peacefully through the beautiful parks Rhaegar and King Aerys had commissioned throughout the capital, where traveling merchants continued selling their goods while musicians, storytellers, and performers entertained delighted crowds beneath the glow of the newly installed lanterns.

It was...

An exquisite sight.

A city unlike any Westeros had ever known.

Unfortunately...

Lyanna's attention was fixed elsewhere.

She would have plenty of opportunities to admire King's Landing once they had finally rid the Realm of the rotten plague known as the Faith.

The young Stark calmly observed Stark soldiers guarding the clearing surrounding the Heart Tree King Aerys himself had ordered planted within King's Landing. Her beloved father had been more than pleased when the King accepted the request, and she knew the rest of the North viewed the gesture exactly as it truly was.

Recognition.

For the very first time in the history of Westeros...

A Targaryen King genuinely regarded the First Men as an inseparable part of his Kingdom.

And Lyanna knew...

Beyond any doubt...

That single decision had earned King Aerys an extraordinary measure of loyalty throughout the frozen wilderness she proudly called home.

Without slowing her flight for even a moment, Lyanna crossed the newly rebuilt districts of the city before finally reaching the neighborhoods surrounding Baelor's Sept, the section of King's Landing where the Faith still exercised the greatest influence.

And therefore...

The area lying furthest beyond the Crown's authority.

At least...

For the time being.

The beautiful lanterns her beloved Rhaegar had commissioned had not yet reached this part of the capital, leaving old torches as the primary source of illumination.

Frankly...

That suited Lyanna perfectly.

The darkness would make infiltrating the roof of the Sept considerably easier without drawing unwanted attention.

The faithful had already begun leaving the building, clearly signaling that the evening ceremony had come to an end and that the great doors of the Sept would soon remain closed until dawn.

Lyanna's grey eyes narrowed with open contempt as she watched the stupid Septas stationed beside the entrance, shamelessly demanding coins and tributes in the name of the Seven, even from men and women who quite obviously could scarcely afford to feed themselves.

Disgusting.

The Wolf Maiden silently guided the snowy owl toward the highest wooden beam inside the enormous Sept, granting herself a perfect view of everything taking place below.

She watched patiently as the final member of the smallfolk stepped outside before two men slowly closed the enormous doors, securing them with heavy iron bars.

"That was the last one. Gather everything, sisters, and take it down to the Holy Vaults. The High Septon has called for a meeting. Let us not keep him waiting," the eldest Septa ordered, immediately capturing the young Stark's full attention.

Exactly as Rhaegar had predicted...

The High Septon had summoned every one of his followers.

Tonight...

Every enemy of the House of the Dragon would conveniently gather beneath the same roof.

And in that precise moment...

The night that history would one day remember as The Night of a Thousand Tears...

Had finally begun.

Enemies of the House of the Dragon...

Beware.