Chapter 25:

[(The king's private chambers in the Red Keep are bathed in the golden light of early morning. King Aegon VI adjusts his crown while Queen Rhaella, visibly pregnant, fastens the clasps on his ceremonial robe. The distant roar of dragons echoes through the open balcony doors as they prepare for the emergency Small Council meeting.)

Aegon VI: (sighing) "Twenty years of peace, and Rhaegar manages to undo it all in one tournament."

Rhaella: (smoothing his collar) "To be fair, it wasn't just the tournament. It was the disappearing act afterward that really sealed our doom."

Aegon VI: "Ah yes, how could I forget? First he humiliates Elia, then gets her with child as an apology, and now—"

(A loud knock interrupts them. The door swings open to reveal Ser Gwayne Hightower, looking harried.)

Gwayne: "Your Grace, urgent news. Lord Rickon Stark's party has been spotted at the city gates. And Robert Baratheon's forces are camped just beyond the Blackwater."

Rhaella: (raising an eyebrow) "How lovely. My nephew and my cousin, here to demand answers we don't have."

Aegon VI: (rubbing his temples) "Has there been any word from Rhaegar?"

Gwayne: (grimacing) "None, Your Grace. But my men report three Kingsguard were seen riding north toward the Riverlands."

Rhaella: (dryly) "Oh good, so our son definitely kidnapped Lyanna Stark. That makes this so much simpler."

(A second knock. Varys slips in, his perfumed silks whispering across the stone floor.)

Varys: "Your Graces, I bring troubling whispers from Dorne. Prince Oberyn has taken a ship to King's Landing... with three hundred spears."

Aegon VI: (groaning) "Perfect. So we have the North, the Stormlands, and Dorne all ready to storm the Red Keep, and our heir is off playing knight-errant with someone else's betrothed."

Rhaella: (patting her belly) "At least the baby will have an exciting birth story."

Gwayne: "Shall I prepare the defenses, Your Grace?"

Aegon VI: (waving a hand) "No need for that yet. Send word to Daeron and Alyssa—I want them greeting Rickon and Robert personally. Family ties might keep them from burning the city down immediately."

Varys: "And Prince Oberyn?"

Rhaella: (smirking) "Leave him to me. I'll remind him that dead princes make poor husbands for his sister."

(Another dragon's roar shakes the windows. Aegon moves to the balcony, watching Fenrir circle the skies above the city.)

Aegon VI: (muttering) "I should've let Jaehaerys name Aerys heir."

Rhaella: (joining him) "Too late for regrets, my love. Now come—we have a realm to placate before your idiot son starts a war."

(They share a weary look before squaring their shoulders and striding toward the Small Council chamber, where the fate of the Seven Kingdoms hangs in the balance.)

[(The Small Council chamber hums with tension as King Aegon VI takes his seat at the head of the table, Queen Rhaella beside him rubbing her pregnant belly. The other council members exchange uneasy glances—Steffon Baratheon's jaw clenched, Tywin Lannister's fingers drumming impatiently, while Varys' eyes dart between them like a spectator at a mummer's farce. The distant roar of dragons underscores the gravity of the meeting.)

Aegon VI: (sighing) "Before our... guests arrive, let me say this—Rhaegar's actions at Harrenhal were inexcusable. Crown or no crown, he's made a mess I now have to clean up."

Steffon Baratheon: (leaning forward, stormy-eyed) "A mess? My boy Robert is ready to tear the realm apart! He thinks your prince stole his betrothed!"

Tywin Lannister: (dryly) "Given that three Kingsguard are missing alongside Rhaegar, it's not an unreasonable assumption."

Rhaella: (sharply) "We don't know that. For all we know, Lyanna Stark ran off on her own. She's half-horse, that one."

Grand Maester Pycelle: (clearing his throat) "Your Grace, perhaps we should focus on appeasing Lord Rickon and Robert before—"

Jon Arryn: (interrupting) "Appeasement won't work. Robert won't rest until he has answers… or blood."

Aegon VI: (rubbing his temples) "Steffon, you've known Robert since he was a babe. Can you reason with him?"

Steffon: (grimacing) "Not when he's like this. The boy's got a temper hotter than your dragons."

Varys: (smoothly) "Perhaps a gesture of goodwill? A betrothal between Princess Rhaenys and Robert's future son?"

Tywin: (snorting) "That ship sailed when Rhaegar crowned Lyanna. Now we need leverage."

Commander Gwayne Hightower: (grim) "Your Grace, if it comes to war, the Kingsguard stands ready. But against Robert's fury and the North's wrath…"

Rhaella: (coldly) "We have dragons, Gwayne. Let Robert try his temper against Tiamat's fire."

Steffon: (slamming a fist on the table) "Is that a threat, Your Grace?"

Aegon VI: (raising a hand) "No. But Rhaella isn't wrong. If Robert pushes this, he'll force my hand—and I won't let him tear apart the peace we've built."

(A tense silence falls. Then—)

Varys: (softly) "And what of Prince Rhaegar? If he did take Lyanna…"

Aegon VI: (wearily) "Then he's a bigger fool than I thought. But until we have proof, we treat this as two reckless children who've vanished—not a casus belli."

(The doors burst open. A panting guard announces:)

Guard: "Your Grace! Lord Rickon Stark and Robert Baratheon have arrived—and Prince Oberyn Martell with them!"

Tywin: (muttering) "Wonderful. Now the viper joins the storm."

Aegon VI: (standing, steeling himself) "Then let's hear what they have to say. And pray the Red Keep still stands by nightfall."

(The council rises as one, bracing for the storm about to break—while outside, the dragons scream as if sensing the coming fury.) ]

[(The Small Council chamber doors burst open as Rickon Stark, Robert Baratheon, and Oberyn Martell stride in, their boots echoing like war drums. Robert's face is flushed with fury, Rickon's icy glare could freeze the Blackwater, and Oberyn's smirk promises venom. The council members tense—Tywin's fingers still on the table, Varys' eyes darting, Rhaella's grip tightening on her armrest. The dragons' distant roars seem to grow louder.)

Robert Baratheon: (slamming his fist on the table) "Enough pretty words, Aegon! Where's my betrothed? Where's your damned silver-haired snake of a son?"

Aegon VI: (raising a hand, calm but firm) "Robert, I swear to you by the Seven, we don't know where Rhaegar is. If he's taken Lyanna—"

Rickon Stark: (cold as winter) "You mean when he's taken her. After that fool stunt at Harrenhal, you expect us to believe this is coincidence?"

Oberyn Martell: (leaning against the wall, grinning) "Oh, but it's fascinating, no? First, Rhaegar humiliates my sister, then disappears with a girl half his age. The songs practically write themselves."

Rhaella: (sharp) "Careful, Prince Oberyn. My son may be reckless, but he's no kidnapper."

Robert: (laughing bitterly) "No? Then why did three Kingsguard vanish with him? Why did Lyanna disappear the same bloody night?"

Tywin Lannister: (coolly) "You assume much, Robert. Perhaps Lyanna fled on her own. She hardly seemed... enthusiastic about your betrothal."

Robert: (glaring) "Watch your tongue, Lannister."

Aegon VI: (sighing) "Robert, be honest—did Lyanna ever want this match? Or did she chafe at being forced into it?"

(Robert's jaw clenches. Rickon's eyes flicker—just for a moment—before hardening again.)

Robert: (growling) "That doesn't give your son the right to steal her!"

Jon Arryn: (diplomatic) "Your Grace, if Rhaegar has acted foolishly, let us find him and Lyanna before this escalates."

Steffon Baratheon: (grim) "Aye. But if he's harmed her—"

Oberyn: (mockingly) "Oh, I doubt harm is what Rhaegar intends."

(Rhaella's nails dig into the armrest. Aegon exhales slowly.)

Aegon VI: "Robert, I give you my word—we will find Rhaegar and Lyanna within two weeks. If he's taken her against her will, he will answer for it."

Robert: (leaning in, voice deadly quiet) "Two weeks. After that, I don't care if you've got twenty dragons. I'll tear this kingdom apart to get her back."

Rickon: (nodding) "And the North stands with him."

Oberyn: (pushing off the wall) "Dorne, meanwhile, would love to hear Rhaegar's explanation for abandoning my sister while she carries his child."

Tywin: (dryly) "How very supportive of you."

(Robert turns on his heel, storming out. Rickon follows, but not before locking eyes with Aegon—a silent warning. Oberyn lingers just long enough to flash a smirk at Rhaella before sauntering after them. The moment the doors slam, the room erupts.)

Steffon: (standing abruptly) "I'll go after Robert. Try to calm him before he does something stupid."

Jon Arryn: (rising) "And I'll speak with Rickon. The North won't move without him."

(They hurry out, leaving the council in tense silence. Then—)

Varys: (softly) "Well. That could have gone worse."

Rhaella: (deadpan) "Oh yes. They only threatened war. Such polite guests."

Aegon VI: (rubbing his temples) "Tywin. Mobilize the Crownlands. Varys, send every spy you have after Rhaegar. And Rhaella—"

Rhaella: (standing, fire in her eyes) "I'll ready the dragons. If Robert wants fire and blood, we'll give it to him."

(Outside, the dragons scream again—this time, it sounds like a challenge.) ]

[(The Small Council chamber is eerily quiet after the storm of Robert's departure. King Aegon VI slumps in his chair, rubbing his temples, while Queen Rhaella massages her swollen belly with a grimace. The doors creak open as their three eldest children enter—Daeron stiff-backed and serious, Daemon smirking like he knows a secret, and Alyssa already rolling up her sleeves like she's ready for a fight.)

Daeron: (crossing his arms) "So. Robert's given us two weeks before he burns the realm down."

Daemon: (grinning) "Plenty of time for Rhaegar to dramatically return with Lyanna Stark draped over his saddle, declaring some prophecy nonsense."

Alyssa: (snorting) "Or for us to prepare for war. Honestly, I'm shocked Robert didn't start swinging his hammer the moment he walked in."

Rhaella: (dryly) "Oh, don't worry. He looked like he was two breaths away from it."

(Aegon exhales sharply and motions for Commander Gwayne Hightower to step forward.)

Aegon VI: "Gwayne, your new task is simple: Find Rhaegar. Search every brothel, library, and gods-forsaken ruin outside the Crownlands. And if Lyanna Stark is with him—drag her back too."

Gwayne: (bowing) "And if he refuses?"

Aegon VI: (coldly) "Then you tell him this—if he's not back in King's Landing within two weeks, he will no longer be Prince of Dragonstone. Daeron will take his place as heir, and Daemon will inherit Summerhall as the new spare."

Daeron: (blinking) "Wait, what?"

Daemon: (grinning wider) "Oh, I like this plan."

Rhaella: (pointedly) "And Dorne? Elia won't take kindly to her husband being cast aside—especially while she's carrying his child."

Aegon VI: (grim) "Which is why you're going to Dragonstone. Keep Elia and Rhaenys safe—and out of Oberyn's reach."

Alyssa: (raising a brow) "And what am I supposed to do while the realm collapses?"

Aegon VI: (smirking faintly) "Go to Storm's End. Remind Robert that he's still your cousin—and that starting a war over a girl who didn't want him is pathetic."

Daeron: (muttering) "This is going to end in fire, isn't it?"

Daemon: (clapping him on the back) "Probably! But look on the bright side—if Rhaegar stays gone, you get to be heir. And if he comes back, we get to watch Father yell at him for an hour."

Rhaella: (standing, wincing as the baby kicks) "Enough joking. Gwayne—ride at once. The rest of you, prepare. If Rhaegar isn't found, we'll need every dragon, sword, and scheme we have."

(Outside, the distant roar of Tiamat shakes the windows—a reminder that House Targaryen's patience, like its dragons, has limits.) ]