Chapter 27

Kingslanding - The Red Keep

Rhaegar sighed, nodding to Arthur as he walked out of his chambers. "Excited?" Arthur asked him.

"To see those two idiots?" Rhaegar chuckled. In all honesty, he had missed his close companions. Although Julian Tyrell and Otto Redwyne had only spent a few weeks at the Keep, during the birthing of his son and to celebrate, Rhaegar had grown freakishly close with them both. Both despised their families but their positions and loyalties disallowed them from making any real tactical moves to undermine them. Julian, had been stuck with his aunt, who as he said had a nose larder than an anteater and Otto, merely was lonely cooped up at Old Town with his lavish sisters.

Arthur laughed along with him. It wasn't really his job to make friends, but how could he resist when Rhaegar had such great taste in friends? "I can't say I don't enjoy their company, even if they are distracting and reckless as children."

Their chatter was abruptly stopped an ear crippling scream. Rhaegar turned back to his quarters, which were very close to the nursery, Elia's room, Arianne's room and his parents' room. "Did you hear that?" He asked Arthur. He did have a tendency to dream up sounds at random times of the day, so a nod from Arthur assured him it wasn't his ears or imagination playing tricks on him. Almost as quickly as Arthur nodded his head once, Rhaegar was dashing back to the chambers. Opening every door he could, even the rooms that he knew were empty. The nursey, which was closely guarded by Kingsguard was as quiet as the night, with the children taking their nap; he mumbled a small sorry to the wet nurse and closed the door. The next room, Elia's room, was empty.

"She's doing her mothers charity garden party," Arthur reminded him.

What even was that. Rhaegar asked himself but knew better than to question his wife's' many tendencies to busy herself around the castle. He opened the door to Arianne's room, which was also empty.

"Walk with-"

"Oberyn, I know. Just double checking," Rhaegar huffed. The next room was his parent's room. A smaller scream came from their room, and Rhaegar felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Ser Barristan stood in front of the room, as solid as a statue and with his helm on. "Barristan, have you gone deaf. That's my mother screaming in there." He moved to open the door, only to have Barristan move in front of him.

"Ser Barristan," Arthur said, wondering why the skilled knight was fighting their attempts to enter the room.

"Have you been called by the King?" He asked both of them.

**Rhaegar scoffed at him and pushed him aside, although noticing that Barristan basically moved for him. He turned the charcoal dragon-headed door and stepped into the room. "Mother!" He exclaimed. The gruesome sight in front of him brought flashbacks of Elia's pregnancies and he felt his stomach churn. His mother lay on the floor, holding her small stomach and groaning in pain. Her white dress was soaked through and through with her blood.**

"Rhaegar," she whispered, reaching out for his hand.

"Don't just stand there!" He managed to stutter out to Barristan and Arthur. "Get help." Aerys stood above them, back arched forward involuntarily and glowering at them both. "What did you do?" Rhaegar asked him, touching his mother's bloody waist. "What did you do!?" He felt his hair sweep his face as he yelled the question once more. The neat bun it was in falling apart as he shook. The crown he wore on his head sliding from here to there as he did so.

"I never touched her," Aerys responded, calm as ever. "A lesser man's child. That'll teach you to bed another. Good riddance," and with that, he shuffled out of the room but before leaving said, "don't bother coming to the small council meeting, we're discussing serious issues."

He didn't watch his father leave, not wanting to give himself thoughts of shoving him down the stairs, strangling him or better yet using the sword that was propped up on the wall to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"My darling boy," Rhaella whispered, touching his hair and smiling gently. "I'll be fine."

Rhaegar felt himself stuttering once more. "W-what do you mean?" But she didn't respond. The door opened once more and Maester Pycelle walked into the room, followed by servants and maid holding buckets of water, clean clothes and bundles of cloth.

"Put her on the bed and leave us, your grace," Pycelle instructed clicking his fingers for his toolbox to be brought to him by younger maester behind him.

Rhaegar did as he was instructed and placed her gently on the now stripped bed. They work fast he thought to himself watching as the maids quickly folded the silk bed sheets. "I want to stay," he told Pycelle.

Pycelle gave him a pointed look. "She doesn't want you to stay," he reminded him. "Private matters, and such."

Rhaegar nodded his head, he watched as his mother was stripped of her clothes and turned to leave to give her decency. Before he left, a young girl squeaked something to him and held out a warm bowl while another waited beside her with a black cloth. He dipped his hands inside and watched as the bowl was filled with wisps of red. Drying his hands he thanked them and closed the door behind him.

Barristan stood at the door, now with his helm off and holding his head low. "How could you just leave her there?" He asked him.

"I've tried, your grace, many times. Usually, it's the King...forgive me, your grace. I know my place."

"Yes the Kingsgaurd to protect the royal family," Rhaegar snapped back.

Barristan nodded his head. "Aye, the Kingsgaurd. But not to protect the royal family from the king."

...

"Your grace," Arthur mumbled, unsure of how to remind him that he had guests waiting for him.

"Arthur please, respect both of us," Rhaegar sighed rolling his eyes at the man's insistence to talk to him formerly.

"They're in your guest house. Shall I call for wine?" He asked him.

Rhaegar sighed once more and snatched Arthur's helm from his hand. "Starting now, you are Arthur Dayne. Now, friend, let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Arthur quickened his pace to follow Rhaegar, who walked at a brisk pace, almost running away from the King's wing. "Are you sure, you're alright to meet them today? It would understandable to postpone."

"I'm fine, let's just get there, they've waited long enough." They walked past the gardens and fountains as the crossed from the Keep to the guest house, greeting many as they did. Rhaegar holding his hands behind his back and making sure to cover them, not wanting anyone to notice anything. He caught a quick glimpse of Arianne and Oberyn seated in a shaded chair, she was reading something and gleefully hit his chest. Oberyn laughed as she did so.

I'll have time to be jealous later. He thought to himself, turning away and opening the gates to the guest house. They walked up the stone steps, greeting the lords and ladies that he had allowed into his section. Most of the time for their own sake and they felt favoured by their golden Prince when presented the invitation to vacate the premises during their stay.

"Oh you fat bastard!" The smooth voice of Julian Tyrell was heard behind him, causing many heads to turn and shake in disgust.

"Watch your tone my friend," Rhaegar muttered taking Julian into a one-handed hug.

Julian put down his wine glass and put both hands by his side. "Your grace," he mimicked, greeting Arthur with a kiss on the cheek.

"How much have you had to drink?" Rhaegar asked him, picking up the wine glass and pouring the wine into the shrubs near them.

Julian let out a shocked expression. "I beg your pardon. Boy fill my cup, properly this time," he said rudely basically throwing his cup at a servant nearby. "So where am I staying?"

"Where's Otto?" Rhaegar asked, leading them into the private section of the guesthouse. It was reserved for Cersei when they were younger, but that was another story altogether.

Julian shrugged, picking up a grade bowl as Rhaegar led them to the lounge. "How am I supposed to know?" He said, his mouth full.

"Okay, I feel like this is you're angry at someone...something?" Arthur queered, sitting down on one of the plush seats.

The eccentric boy huffed and sat opposite him. "So you know how that dumby Cersei basically swore Jaime into the Kingsgaurd. Well, aunt Olenna wants to marry me to Lysa Tully. She says she's the best match I could hope for."

"She is," Rhaegar responded honestly pointing to him as if to say look at yourself.

Julian scoffed at him and rolled his eyes. "So how's everything here? How's your I love my father too much to usurp him and save the kingdom campaign going?"

Arthur tutted and shook his head, as Rhaegar looked to the floor uncomfortably. "That's enough from you."

"Hit a nerve? Someone has to tell you Rhaegar. They're waiting for you!" He exclaimed raising from his seat excitedly. His silk blue dress shirt and cotton black pants flowing as he did so. "They're begging you to sit on that throne. Your arse is begging you to sit on that throne Rhaegar. It's your time." He paused for a moment wondering if Rhaegar was taking in anything he was saying. "Don't wait until it's too late. Don't doubt these young lords. My father said they're all hotheaded and thirsty for war, one small reason and they'll be rearing to go," he exaggerated. "And you know marrying a bastard is not so bad if-"

"That's really enough from you now," Rhaegar said, his voice flat. "Insult me all you want but not my-"

"Your? Oh, you are truly in love my prince," he chuckled. "In all seriousness, it's time to show them what you're made of."

"Still a rambling drunk," Jaime Lannister's playful voice was heard from behind them.

Julian looked between Rhaegar, Arthur's confused face and then back at Rhaegar. "You weren't invited. Go practice guarding something-no offense Arthur," Julian glared.

"Will you ever stop drinking?" Jaime asked Julian, watching as a servant boy handed him a full glass of wine, and placed a large jug down next to him.

"By wine, I was brought into this land and by wine, I shall leave it," he smirked, raising his glass and taking a gulp.

Rhaegar stood from his seat and extended his hand out for Jaime to shake, which he did. "What made you want to give up your titles?" He asked, ignoring Julian.

Jaime looked like he was battling with himself, almost as if he didn't want to but was forced to. "Father was actually getting serious about the Tully girl, said no Stark was to beat him to a grandson."

"Liar," Julian tutted, pointing at him accusingly.

"No matter the reason, we are to be companions now, no longer enemies," Rhaegar pointed out.

"I was never your enemy, I think my loyal attendance at your meetings was proof of that enough," Jaime said, sliding his hands into his pockets and walking around the room. Rhaegar raised a brow at him. "I don't take rejection well," Jaime admitted shrugging.

"No matter now, what I'm about to say doesn't leave this room or your minds, except for when conversing with one another in private, understood?" Rhaegar said, standing from his seat.

Julian and Jaime sat down wondering what he was talking about. "Alright there Gregory the gallant, what are you talking about?"

Rhaegar couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, trust Julian to lift his mood. "Let's just say, I don't need you to remind me that it's my turn to rule."

"Finally," Julian sighed, sipping from his cup.

"Right well, I'll be hosting a ball soon, for Arianne. As a welcome present. She hasn't exactly been made to feel too welcome as of late. And Julian I'm going to need you to stay sober throughout-,"

Julian let out a long laugh. "Alright, jokes aside brother." But stopped his laughter when he realised that the Prince wasn't joking indeed.

Riverlands - Riverrun

The rain had not stopped beating down on Riverrun since the sun had risen, and it made everyone not want to leave their quarters for the majority of the day. Everyone that was, except for a very determined Rickard Stark, who was stood outside of Brandon's door as late as could be, and growing more and more impatient by the second.

"Brandon, it's your father!" He shouted, seemingly unaware of the surrounding rooms.

There was rustling in the room, the bed creaking and footsteps approaching the door. Brandon stood in nightgown staring at his father disapprovingly. "What in gods name could you want at this hour?" He mumbled.

Rickard stopped himself from hitting the boy across the head once he saw Catelyn's mass of auburn sprawled across the bed. Save the embarrassment just this once he thought to himself as he nodded to her. "I do apologise, my lady."

"Not at all my lord," her soft voice rang back to him.

Brandon closed the door after their encounter and looked at his father as if to say please hurry up.

"You have to go to Winterfell at once. With your wife and all your belongings. It's time to leave Hoster his home," Rickard said.

Brandon looked at his father, wanting to implode with anger. "So you woke me up at midnight, to tell me I have to go home?"

"No, I woke you up at midnight to tell you, it's time to go home. As of tomorrow. I can not have no Starks in Winterfell any longer," he said honestly.

Brandon nodded his head in understanding but knew that by the time they were packed and had told the party set up outside of the castle gates to pack up, their journey would not start until the day after. "As you wish it." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

Before he turned to return into his room, however, Rickard cleared his throat. "Lilia...she's pregnant. I'll tell you now to save the grief I know you will give her when you arrive."

Brandon felt his eyes bulge. "Don't tell me it's yours."

I wish I could say the opposite. Rickard thought to himself. "No. Apparently, it is."

"Father," Brandon said, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"No one must know. She has told me that the Maester believes she miscarried. She is weak and our men can only do so much, especially in these times of uncertainty" he responded. "Now rest, you leave tomorrow."

...

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