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[dragxnrhaegar-blog]

The Prince was playing a game of vagabonds. Except, unlike them, he held a clear purpose in his life. One demanded of him-- as those of Royal blood were birthed with. A life at Court had its constant expectancy. This life, for the dragon, happened to be one he wished to avoid often.

His hood was drawn far, cast over eyes of piercing dark indigo while a cowl halted just below his nose. His breath warmed the inside of the fabric in which hid known features. The problem with this certain escape happened to reside in the garments he posessed. Back home he hid a particular set of clothing-- thread worn poor-- to dawn in these cases. Here, though, he simply looked just as he wished to avoid– a Prince. As usual, he appeared much too royal for his tastes.

The Guard detail still rushed by, searching for the mirage in which he willed himself to be. The dragon feigned interest in a stall operated by a drunken vendor. This facade soon came to a close. A girl beside him seemed to falter, the flash of blonde hair detonated the cascade of an entire figure. Rhaegar caught her with a gentle grasp, and one glimpse of her facial features read the recognition of Cersei Lannister. "Lady Cersei," the Prince tested, noting a paler complexion than he remembered, "can you hear me?"

Prince Rhaegar’s wife, Elyria, had once been as thin as Cersei - at least, that’s what the young lioness told herself whenever she saw the pair of Targaryens prancing about the halls of the Red Keep with their brats clinging to their arms like leeches. Cersei took note of the way Rhaegar would hold her teeny-tiny waist, and how a single arm of his wrapped nearly around the girth of her womanly figure.

In an attempt to best the dragon mother in a game she never knew was being played, Cersei had begun to starve herself, not extensively, of course, but just enough so that she’d be able to trim down her already shapely figure. For the past several weeks, she’d been giving her maidservants her meals rather than eating them herself, claiming that it came only from the generosity in her heart. If anyone who knew her could have heard it, they’d know much better than to believe in her silly talk.

Walking along the market stalls, poking around for fabrics she’d like for a new dress, the lioness felt a sudden pang at her stomach, followed by a throb in her head. With a pained grunt, Cersei doubled over, and began to fall back. She had fainted for a few moments, feeling a pair of hands catch her before she cracked her pretty skull open in the road.

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A chuckle followed the Princess’s proclamations; the girl now claiming a chance to defeat the slimy squid of which Rodrik spoke. If the rest of Rodrik’s clan did come to visit, however, the last place he would let his daughter be was in their presence. For trusting Rodrik was much different than the rest, and the child he loved dearly did not need to face the kraken’s wrath.

“Everything okay?”

The dragon grimaced. Rhaegar could not recall when anything ever had been. There was always a thick mask of worry, and a deathly ghost settled through hallways he trailed. Now more than ever, the thought of Rebellion was leaving its phantomed form. "Daughter,” the prince relayed, “a respectable Knight tends to their own steed.” And just as soon as she’d arrived, the girl kissed her uncle’s cheek, hugged father, and vanished toward the stables.

“No,” the dragon sighed, though kept defeat from breaching his firm tone, “nothing at all. But promise me something. I consider you my blood, and blood protects family. So if I die, dear brother, protect them.” Them. Rhaenys. Aegon. Elyria. The people.

“Well, in that case, I’m glad that there’s someone keeping them on their toes.” He said scrunching up his nose at Rhaenys and earning a little giggle from the warrior princess. Rodrik was so glad that Rhaegar had sort of assimilated him into his family. He was, after all, missing out on seeing Asha and Theon grow up and being part of the princess’ childhood was the next best thing. 

Seeing her run through the palace, guards and her mother chasing after her was one of the only things that could still make him genuinely smile. And, seeing her put a smile on her father’s face was even better. 

“If only it were so.” Rodrik said, his chest swelling with pride at the look on both the dragons’ faces at the proposition. “Being your father’s brother would be far better than being brothers with my real one. He’s the kind of slimy squid who needs a few whacks from your sword, princess.” He said before directing his attention back to the prince.

The prince so rarely smiled, it worried Rodrik. Not that he had any right to, he hardly did so himself anymore. But the problems the Greyjoy was facing were insignificant next to Rhaegar’s and he wished there was more he could do to make his friend happier. “Everything okay?” He asked, doubtful of the answer being reassuring in the slightest. 

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The kraken was his family. Rhaegar forged him into both brother and ally. And Rhaenys, well, the princess brought out both warrior’s lighter sides. For around her Rhaegar was more at ease than he could ever have believed imaginable. With Rodrik sharing that presence, the Prince was sure of all purpose he fought daily for.

Rhaegar studied the two in silence. With another, he may have made a move to eventually tone down his daughter’s adventurous exaggerations. Rodrik, however, was one of the ones who could share delight in each tale. Better yet, the man could play into them. “And she can surely defeat any men who dare oppose her.” The dragon added in kind, allowing the boasting of the princess to elevate further. “She keeps our Guards on edge.”

“Aye, and she is your niece.” He countered teasingly. The grin his daughter produced only lengthened his own, and for a moment life was simple. She stole away all doubts of the world; the turmoil plagued and disasters to be solved. Solved on his accord, as Aerys’ purpose was to unbalance Westeros further.

Despite the beloved individuals with him, Rhaegar’s eyes mirrored a sadness few could catch. It glimmered brighter than the indigo of his orbs. Its shine strengthened each passing hour, and the kraken was the only one he knew ever caught it.

The sound of Rhaenys shouting the name she had dubbed him brought a genuine smile to Rodrik’s lips. The little princess was much too like her father, and the kraken cared for her much in the way he did her father. They had welcomed him into the capital with open arms unlike many and he was ever grateful for that. 

The princess eagerly informed the kraken of her training and he nodded, and looked impressed where appropriate. She rattled everything out with a desperate string of words uninterrupted by breaths and Rodrik smiled at her enthusiasm.

As she reached for him, Rodrik took her from her father’s arms and listened intently to her excited words beaming with pride when she mentioned learning to use an axe. Her little arms wound round his neck, and tiny fingers gripped each other through his black hair which was being tugged on unintentionally, not that he minded in the slightest. 

“I would love to teach you, little dragon. Your father and I had better watch out though, soon you’ll be good enough to defeat him with your sword and I won’t be able to avenge him seeing as you’ll be able to beat me with your axe as well.” 

Rodrik turned his attention to his friend - no, brother - and smirked. “What did you expect, Rhaegar? She’s your daughter after all.” He said, getting a proud grin from Rhaenys at his words. 

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“Ah, then perhaps I will lend you my eyes, if you allow me.” Removing a now squirming Rhaenys from his shoulders, the dragon gestured to the way in which he’d came, “It is no trouble at all, my lady. The stables are just that way, and I planned to head back after Rhaenys returned to her less enthusiastic lessons.” At the mention of them his daughter gave Rhaegar the start of a complaint laced with a pout, but the Prince silenced her with a look. “Elyria would be less than thrilled if she knew I had let her skip them in the first place.”

Genna had heard of how the prince went out of his way to spend time with his daughter; but until seeing it in person for herself, Genna had never thought she would find it so endearing as she did.

“It would seem I am on a blind hunt. I was told my horse had arrived in the capitol, however it appears I have been given inadequate directions to the stables in which she resides. Or perhaps I am the inadequate one. Either way, I shall leave you two in peace so you may show this fierce young warrior your dragon’s breath,” she said with a smile and a wink in the little girl’s direction.

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“No need for apologies.” The prince assured her, brightening as the girl mentioned her name. “Sister to Bethany, are you? I met her at the tourney, She rode my horse, Sithik, As for the rest of us Targaryens, I’d tread carefully when meeting them. Or perhaps avoid them altogether. For Rhaenys, though, I urge you to run if you meet her-- she may try to slay you.” The dragon jested, recalling his daughters antics from earlier that morning. The child was completely harmless without a real blade. Almost.

The highest person in status that Barbrey had ever met was probably the Warden of the North, the closest thing they had to royalty in the North and the closest she ever imagined she could get to meeting anyone of the sort. Visiting King’s Landing had always been a dream of her’s but it never even occurred to her that she would meet a Prince, so it was a given that she would be taken back. But she had to remember her courtesy regardless. “Yes, I apologise if I made you uncomfortable,” she said with a small bow of her head, simply as she would if she felt she may have insulted anyone. “Barbrey, if it pleases you. ..I am sorry, it’s just you are the first Targaryen I have ever met.”

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“Which explains quite a lot on most days.”

“No, never forgotten. We all have the blood of the dragon.”

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“Gone, perhaps, but not forgotten. I do believe we have not seen the end of them.”

“I’m sure she would look like a true Targaryen queen atop a dragon, but dragons have been gone for over a century.”

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“She will have no problem with that I can assure you. I am sure I will find myself aging swiftly with the trouble she gets up to. And to you, my lady.”

“How charming! Though if she is adventurous so young, I suspect she will only get moreso as time goes on. What a happy coincidence, my sincerest congratulations to you both, Your Grace.”

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“Perhaps. I do know my daughter would love the chance to explore. Aye, they are. In fact, Elyria is with child.”

“Indeed. Perhaps one day it will be a beauty you yourself can experience. My family is better than ever, thankfully, and growing too. I could ask for nothing more. And how about yours? I hope your wife and children are well.”

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“It is not something difficult for me to believe.”

“Of course. And if she were to ride on a dragon, we would all be truly astonished, wouldn’t we?”

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Unlike the youngest lioness he seemed to frequently encounter, Rhaegar found himself more at ease with Genna’s presence. A Lannister was a Lannister, and when his daughter was involved, tension steadily rose. Still, the dragon had yet to have an unpleasant experience with the particular cat before him, and he never made assumptions.

After all, Rhaegar was not his father. You could not choose where you came from, but only where you wished to go and remain.

“Is there something I-- or we-- can do for you?” The Prince inquired in kind, dipping his head as to not unseat the Princess upon his shoulders.

Genna had found herself utterly bored in the capitol. Not only was she bored, she was also alone and starting to feel the effects. Her niece spends most of her time in the presence of Queen Rhaella and her ladies, doing the Seven only knew what. And Jaime and Tywin were far too busy doing the King’s bidding, or his job in Tywin’s case. Unfortunately, Genna hadn’t been in King’s Landing long enough to acquire any new friendly acquaintances.

To ease her boredom, Genna had asked Tywin to send her horse to the capitol, and after several rounds of complaints and thinly veiled threats from both parties, Tywin acquiesced. However, he had not mentioned where the stables were located.

As Genna wandered the grounds, she walked right into, and broke up, a family moment between Prince Rhaegar and his young daughter.

“Pardon me for interrupting, your grace,” Genna said with a curtsy.

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The voice of the kraken did not drown him at sea, but instead surfaced him and a crushed emotional vessel. The ironborn was his brother. Blood be damned. There were few the dragon could be himself around, and his fellow council member had become a surprising escape from court affairs.

“Uncle Kraken!”

The first time his daughter had met Rodrik, Rhaegar had convinced the girl his flesh was of a slimy squid. The dragon had even sent her to slay him for amusement. Then she had stolen the name Kraken- and heard brother used by her father- dubbed the ironborn her Uncle.

“To fry the squid,” Rhaegar tempted to his daughter, “and one day you shall breathe fire too.” The prospect of this seemed to interest the Princess greatly, and soon she was listening eagerly to whatever play Rodrik whispered in her ear. There was a resounding bit of giggling as the speech continued, followed by a proud Rhaenys beginning to explain her training progress.

“Uncle,” a gulp of air in-between her rantings, “I told father I want an axe. He said you shall teach me.” Little arms reached outward next, causing the Prince to tilt in order to pass his daughter to her next conquest.

Chuckling, the dragon pointed toward a fairly splintered wooden blade, “Aye, I did. She’s nearly destroyed the sword, brother. And the Guards.”

Rodrik was in a less bitter and grumpy mood than usual, and even though he usually hated the heat of King’s Landing, venturing outside seemed a good idea. Perhaps he would retrieve his axe from the armoury and rope some poor guard or squire into sparring with him for a while. Making his way down to the yard which was bordered by the armoury and the stable he caught the sound of tinking childish laughter and the strong, but gentle voice of Prince Rhaegar as he spoke to his young daughter.

Rhaenys was perched atop a horse than even Rodrik, with as little knowledge of the beasts as he had, could tell was far too big for her. She was dwarfed by the size of it, but the fact that she was so far off the ground didn’t seem to phase her at all. Rodrik wandered around the edge of the yard, nodding to the exhausted looking guard who led the horse back to the stables as Rhaenys found a more agreeable perch on her father’s shoulders, still clutching the wooden sword he would bet Rhaegar had given her while the Princess Elyria wasn’t looking.

He paused for a moment outside the armoury doors to watch them, as the armourer seemed busy with some knights fluffing over the fact that they had been equipped with the wrong swords. Rhaenys reminded him of his own youngest siblings, and his stomach knotted as the prince received a rap on the head from the little lady knight’s sword, as he had suffered many times at the mercy of Asha and Theon.

“Aye, Princess, he does breathe fire. I’ve seen it.” He said with a mischievous grin, after noticing that the princess had spotted him. Rodrik abandoned his post at the door and wandered over to his friend and his daughter. “But he can’t show you here because all these people would see, and he might singe your little eyebrows off with his dragon flames.” The kraken cupped his mouth with one hand and pretended to whisper loudly up to her, as if this was some sort of secret, and she eagerly leant down to hear what he had to say, while Rodrik smirked at Rhaegar. 

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l i s t e n

Chasing the Dragon - Epica Mad World (feat. Michael Andrews) - Gary Jules Fire In The Water - Feist In The Woods Somewhere - Hozier Blue Blood - Laurel Brain - Banks If I Had A Heart - Fever Ray Iron - Woodkid Vengeance - Zack Hemsey Running Up That Hill - Placebo I’d Love To Change The World - Jetta Empire - Alpines Hunger Of The Pine - Alt J Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde

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“Father, is her head in flame?”

The Prince tapped the knee of his daughter sharply, “Rhaenys.” The scarlet hair was bright enough to pierce shadow, and certainly enough to make one blink as if against the sun.

“You did nothing of the sort, I assure you. Though I do apologize for what conversation you may enter.” He was pleased, however, when Rhaenys returned the girl’s compliment with thanks. Thanks that soon turned into a breathless explanation of dragon knight training, to which Rhaegar had to halt her a good ways through. “Yes, and a good knight takes care of their steed. Which is what you, little dragon, are headed off to do.” Lifting the weightless child from his shoulders the Prince knelt to return the embrace of his daughter before watching her return to the filly.

“Apologies, my lady. Is there something I can do for you?”

Sword fighting,hand-to-hand combat,even archery, - the sounds buzzed around her like the drone of the of hornets in their nest.She tried to concentrate on the book she’d brought along for the day,but it was pointless.She just couldn’t focus.

Lysa shook her head and sighed,before she placed the book the soft ground.A long walk was the only solution.The breeze was unexpectedly nice and pleasant.She was walking and listening.

But then she spotted the young princess and her father. ’’Forgive me,your grace,I didn’t meant to disturb you.’’ she said with a little bow. ’’But she’s a truly talented fighter.’’ Lysa added with a little smile.

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He was no stranger to the swift change of character once his royal blood was realized. The curtsy had him grimace, but the dragon dipped his head in response. The Prince did not see himself above another; not unless time called for it. His blood was status, and he bled as others bled. “You are speaking to another person, yes? Rhaegar will do just fine.” Rhaegar gave a chance to be equal; to give the respect dawned upon him in Court to others if they proved respectable in return. “And what shall I call you?”

The silver hair, the tongue unknown to a girl of the North… Barbrey should have noticed who it was she was speaking with, but having never met the Prince or any or the Targaryens she only knew them by name rather than face. It was the mention of Rhaenys that made the penny drop, her surprise quite evident as her defined brow arched. “Your grace…” she may have been lost for words or the first time since leaving her mother’s womb. “I apologies, your grace. I didn’t know who I was speaking with.” In a bid to quickly recover, she curtsied as she mentally cursed herself.

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“Not many places can compare, I’m sure. How does your family fair?”

“I am in complete agreement, Your Grace. It is one of the many reasons I cherish Highgarden.”