Chapter Text
Chapter 1: A new bride
Arthur
The soft sound of a harp met his ears as he entered the dimly-lit solar. It didn’t surprise him when he found Prince Rhaegar seated next to the painted window.
It was the Prince’s favourite place and many songs were composed here.
Listening to the storm inspires me, he had told Arthur not long ago.
“You are two days late,” Jon Connington grumbled with his lean and sharp-featured face with a straight nose and blue eyes, ginger hair and a thin, close-cropped beard. “What took you so long?”
Arthur couldn’t help but to laugh. It felt more as if Jon was unhappy for his intrusion than his tardiness.
“The King was busy. Three burnings in a week and it seems we will soon have a new Hand of the King. The only thing Lord Owen Merryweather is good for is chuckling at the king's witticisms. It said he will resign from his position when the King discovers the state of the treasure and asks for his son's head …The King’s ill-mood kept me away.”
“Don’t fret about the vicious old man, Arthur,” Rhaegar quipped and put his harp away. It was a beautiful instrument made of dark wood and silver strings. “If the Gods are kind and my plan goes well, we will soon be rid of him.”
Arthur tried to smile but failed. His Prince will not be pleased when he hears about the King’s plans on his second marriage.
“How so?” Arthur asked and tried to prolong the inevitable.
“Lord Whent,” Jon Connington added and handed Arthur a cup of wine.” Will soon host a tourney. It seems our plans are finally taking form.”
“Indeed,” Arthur added and brought the cup to his lips. He savoured the taste and took a seat at the Painted Table. This was the room where Aegon the Conqueror planned his invasion. It was quite ironic that they came here to plan the downfall of King Aerys the Second. “I assume this means you agree and will soon take a new bride?”
“I suppose,” Rhaegar remarked and considered his question.” That is the case.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic?” Arthur asked, though he knew the reason. King Aerys sent Lord Steffon Baratheon to Essos to find Prince Rhaegar, a bride of Valyrian blood. Sadly, Steffon Baratheon was unable to find such a bride and only found an early grave, breaking the relationship between the two Greats Houses. The marriage to the Dornish Princess Elia Martell followed and resulted in the birth of Princess Rhaenys, but no living son, until barely a year ago. Princess Elia birthed a son who almost died a few days later and nearly killed the fragile woman. The King was so angered by this event that he forced the High Septon to annul the marriage between Princess Elia and his son Prince Rhaegar. This nearly led to an uprising of the Faith and Dorne, but such things didn’t matter to King Aerys. The madness was consuming his mind, no one could make him change his decisions.
In the end it was Princess Elia’s reluctant agreement to accept the annulment, fearing for her children's life, that achieved peace, though the situation was still more than delicate, peace was fragile. Princess Elia returned to Dorne with her son Prince Aegon, but her daughter Princess Rhaenys remained a hostage in the hands of the King. Not even Prince Rhaegar was allowed access to his child as the King handed them to one of his most loyal supporters: Lucerys Velaryon, the Lords of the Tides, Master of Driftmark and the Master of ships sitting in the Small Council. He was above all the King’s loyal hound.
“I expect that my Lord Father will soon introduce me to another bride, if I don't choose one myself.” Prince Rhaegar said and shrugged his shoulders.
“I understand what you are trying to say, my Prince,” Jon Connington added gently. ”But that is why we should make use of your lack of betrothal. Maybe the King can be convinced to agree to it later… he seems very anxious for another grandson.”
“Yes…I suppose. One with purple eyes and silver hair this time he wants.” Rhaegar said and met Lord Connington’s gaze. The candlelight met his eyes and made them shine like two velvet gemstones. They swam with sadness and anger. Arthur believed he knew why. Prince Aegon may have the hair of his father but not his eyes, same for the Princess Rhaenys who was the splitting image of his mother. The King wasn’t pleased at all with the lack of valyrian features of his granddaughter and grandson.
But it was not the most alarming for the Crown Prince. His mother’s safety was compromised, the King returned to Queen Rhaella’s bed and nobody could protect a Queen from her own husband, not a kingsguard or even a Prince. The Queen, Rhaella Targaryen endured years of emotional and physical abuse at her brother’s hands, including multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. Despite these challenges, the Prince’s mother remained loyal to her husband and did her best to fulfil her duties as a Queen and a Targaryen. She was strong.
“And I have already considered several brides, but choosing is harder than expected when I don’t know any of them.”
“What about Cersei Lannister?” Jon Connington offered.” Lord Tywin hates the King. He would support you.”
“True.” Rhaegar confirmed, but the expression on his face told Arthur that he didn’t agree with Jon’s assessment. ”But doing so would be like writing treason on my forehead. And I doubt my father’s wish for a grandson with Valyrian’s look is enough to forget his grudge against Lord Tywin.”
“What about the Tully girls ?” Arthur suggested and placed his empty cup on the table.
“The older one is already betrothed to the Stark heir and the younger one is below our Prince.”
Arthur sighed deeply. Nobody was ever good enough for Jon. His obsession for the Prince was far too obvious for him.
“What about the Stark girl?” Arthur offered instead.” I heard she is quite pretty, still young but she does have a lot of wolf’s blood according to rumours.”
“Youth doesn’t matter…only if she is healthy enough to bear sons. But a savage from the North will not be a good idea.” Jon countered.” Besides, I heard of an impending betrothal to Robert Baratheon, though that shouldn’t matter. I doubt Rickard Stark would refuse a match with the Crown Prince.”
“He would refuse,” countered Arthur. “If the betrothed is official. He wouldn’t get back on his word. The Stark’s honour is not just a legend, Lord Conningtonn.”
“I heard you.” Rhaegar replied and his gaze flickered to the painted window. Three dragons curled their heads around each other and threw yellow spiralling flames into the air. ” And I will look out for these girls at the tourney, we will speak about that later, but I cannot do anything without my Lord Father’s approval. And you are right, about the Stark’s honour, Ser Arthur.”
“Speaking about your Lord Father, the King,” Arthur added and pulled out the letter he was meant to deliver.” He calls you to King’s Landing.”
Rhaegar frowned and picked the letter from his hand, opening the seal. Quietly, he read, and Arthur braced himself for the Prince’s reaction. Here it comes.
“Damn him!” Rhaegar snapped angrily and slammed the letter on the table. ” Curse Varys! How did he find out about our ploy?”
Jon gave Rhaegar a concerned look. “My Prince …?”
Rhaegar huffed and brushed his hands over his pale face. He remained like this for a brief moment, before he lifted his head and gave both Jon and Arthur a weary smile.
“The King intends to attend the tourney.”
…
Rhaegar
“Took you long enough !” he heard the grumbling voice of the Mad King. That thing was his father .” Were you trying to hide away on Dragonstone, son?”
Rhaegar balled his fists and brushed away the feelings of anger stirring in his gut. There was no word to describe the hatred his father’s presence woke inside him.
He didn’t even look human anymore. His body was thin like a skeleton, his hair a tangle of white framing his gaunt face. His fingernails were sharp like the fangs of a dragon and his silken robes were tattered as if someone cut them apart with a sharp blade.
The smell was even worse. There was always a hint of smoke lingering around him.
“My bannermen kept me occupied, father.” He replied and feigned politeness. He kept his gaze intentionally low, though he instinctively searched for his Lady Mother, standing in the shadows of the Iron Throne.
She appeared impassive as ever. Her fragile body was covered in a dress of flowing velvet and a pale pink shawl was wound around her slender throat. Yet even these garments were unable to hide the bruises spiralling around her neck and arms.
“Lies !” his father sneered angrily.” I know that you are planning something, boy. The only reason you are alive is Viserys’s youth.”
Rhaegar swallowed hard.
“I would never dare,” he replied and averted his gaze. “You have my full loyalty, your Grace.”
“Another lie !” his father snapped and bared his yellow teeth. ”But I intend to be merciful, because you are still of use to me. I am giving you one last chance to prove yourself worthy. Thank your mother for that.”
Rhaegar trembled and lifted his head.
His mother looked at him, her purple eyes wide in fear. He balled his fists again and brushed away a wave of rage threatening to overwhelm him. ” I thank you, dear mother. How can I prove myself worthy, Lord Father?”
“By producing an heir.” his Lord father explained.
“I have an heir father. Your grandson Prince Aegon.”
“Enough, I’m the King, son. The Dornish whore’s brat is not a dragon. He will never sit the throne. Choose any bride you like…as long as it isn’t Tywin’s whelp or maybe take her and destroy her… I am sick and tired of these failures.”
Rhaegar lowered his head in acceptance. But his rage was at its highest.
“I will do my best, father.” I will do my best to get rid of you. I swear this on Fire and Blood. He made this vow to himself; he would save his family and House Targaryen at any cost even if he had to become a kinslayer...
“You should Rhaegar! “ The skeletics hands of the King were white from gripping the Throne until he hurt himself on the melted swords. As if someone will take and flee with his Iron Throne. “For once in your life make your King and father proud of you and be worthy of our blood !”
“I should, Your grace.” Rhaegar lowered his head to his father in acceptance again. “I will make up for my past mistakes, I swear.”
The King grunt in acceptance. “I have some duty to attend, son. You will attend the small council in my stead.” He rode from the throne with difficulty and started to leave the room. Before leaving the Throne’s room, he turned around, searching for something, something only his madness let him see. Rhaegar was close enough to see the madness and his fire eyes, she was burning, destroying everything of the great man he was in his youth, making the King see things, hearing things in the shadow, feeding his paranoiac mind and developing his fascination for the fire and the burning of people. “The alchemists have brought me some works it seems…. Burn them all…Burn them all!” His statement crashed against the walls of the Red Keep without any response, but all the servants, Kingsgards and the two other members of the Royal Family understood very well what the King meant. The King will enjoy himself and people will burn today.
Rhaegar remembered his youth when his heroes were The Conqueror or The Conciliator and all of the greats Targaryen who made their House, the greatest of all. Among all these great people, for the young child he was, his father was among them. Twenty years ago, he was a great man, destined to greatness, a King who could be as great or even more great than King Jaehaerys the First of His name. At the beginning, Aerys appeared to be generous, ambitious, and wise. The beginning of his reign was peaceful and prosperous. Aerys was loved and respected by both lords and commoners.Nowadays, he was anything but a man whose legacy could rival that of Jaehaerys, but rather that of Aegon the Second and the Fourth.
He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones was the only thing who could move his black and disgusting heart. He wanted to burn Lords he didn't like, to burn anyone who disobeyed him or was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. The King saw traitors everywhere, and yet did not see that his Seven Kingdoms were torn apart under his reign. Letting his son and heir, the hard task to not let them fall in a war who would destroy House Targaryen. The three headed red dragon’s flag will never be seen again on the Red Keep if the Last Dragon fails. That truth was slowly breaking him down.
It is often said that when a Targaryen is born the Gods flip a coin and the whole Realm holds its breath to see how it will land, on madness, or greatness? The coin of the Mad King no doubt, it was madness although at the start greatness was seen in him and that was the greatest fear of Rhaegar, a bone-chilling fear, a fear that woke him up at night, sweating and panting leaving him alone in the darkness of his room with his demons as his only companions. Will he fall in this deep madness like his father before him or will he be spared but his children no…
This fear, the weight of his responsibilities, his duty, the wellbeing of his family and the Targaryen’s legacy was slowly swallowing the Prince. The Last Dragon was not called for nothing, every thought he had, every action he made, every dream he had, everything in him, every part in his body, his heart, his whole soul and the fire burning in him, they were only directed in one goal: Restored the greatness of the almighty House of the Dragon, and saved the Seven Kingdoms. He was the Prince That Was Promised, born in the ashes of Summerhall and as his ancestor Aegon the Conqueror dreamed for their future with the Song of Ice and Fire . He will make this dream true in Fire and Blood as the Dragon he is. A Targaryen King must sit the Iron Throne but not any Targaryen, a true Dragon. The Dragons may be long extinct but the blood of the Dragon runs to his veins and Dragons were always meant to fly upon any other beast, whatever these beasts are lions, wolves, kraken, or stags.