The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 9: Steps Taken

Late 273 AC, King’s Landing  

“No, Aerea. Now stop asking, I will not be repeating myself.” Aerys snapped after the fifth time of hearing his daughter’s pleading.

Rhaegar had asked to visit the ruins of Summerhall, claiming to be drawn to the castle where he was born. Aerys had agreed on the condition that he would visit the houses of the Stormlands while on his trip.

While the King had little regard for the lords of his kingdom, his son would be going to the land ruled by his cousin Steffon, so Aerys figured he should show his cousin his respect by having his heir tend to Steffon’s vassals. It would send a message to Westeros that Aerys was constantly vigilant, watching over them to ensure their continued loyalty.

Rhaegar would be going with Gerold Hightower as Rhaegar was his squire, along with the other boys under Gerold’s care, Lewyn Martell and his charges, and a small party of lords and ladies.

Aerea found out the second the family sat down for a rare morning in which they all broke their fast together and had been begging her parents to allow her to go with Rhaegar for the entire meal.

“It is only because Rhaegar will be in the care of Steffon and the Stormlands proximity that I am allowing him to go. But our family cannot be allowed completely severed during this time.” Aerys said, speaking to both his son and daughter.

The family had learned only three days ago that Rhaella was pregnant again. Aerys had demanded that Mellos check numerous times to ensure that Rhaella truly was pregnant and that it was not a false sign.

And just like all the other times, Aerys had become more paranoid, his presence over his family becoming more suffocating with each passing day, wanting to ensure that the child growing within his wife’s womb would live.

Rhaella gently reached over and held Aerea’s cheek, “It is not the end of the world, Aerea, once you are older you will be able to travel. In the meantime, there will be plenty of things for us to do together.”

Aerea knew how stressful it was for her mother when she was pregnant, how lonely and smothering it was for her. While she wanted to go to the Stormlands, and to not be treated like a child, Aerea also wanted to make sure that Rhaella was as comfortable and happy as possible.

“Yes, mother.” Aerea said softly, smiling back at Rhaella.

Rhaegar then spoke, “We still have time to spend together, Aerea. I will not be leaving until the Lord Hand returns by the end of the week.”

Aerea grinned, “That is true, but you have to promise that you will write to me about all that you get up to.”

Rhaegar smiled gently, “I promise, hāedar.”

The room fell into a peaceful silence for a few minutes before a knock was heard at the door and a steward entered.

“A letter for Princess Aerea, Your Grace.” The young man told the King.

Aerys stared at him before looking back at Gerold, the Lord Commander, who had been standing behind him the entire time, silently watching over the royal family alongside Barristan.

The Kingsguard along with other knights of House Targaryen had been brought closer to the royal family, watching over them more closely by the order of the King once Rhaella’s pregnancy had become public knowledge.

Gerold nodded his head and made his way to the steward, immediately looking through his pockets and any places that a weapon could be concealed in. Once he was done, Gerold held out his hand and took the letter from the steward's grasp. He gave Aerea a small smile as he handed it to her.

“Oh, it’s from Jaime.” Aerea said aloud as she opened the letter.

“Who else would it be from?” Rhaegar asked, knowing how often his sister and the heir to Casterly Rock wrote to each other.

Aerea shrugged as she continued to read, “I have gotten a few letters from Stannis and Ned. I even got one from Brandon.”

The one from Brandon Stark was a strange and unexpected one, the young heir had sent an invitation for her to one day visit Winterfell. He even said that he would show her what Wildlings did for fun.

Aerea had sent Brandon her thanks and her desire to follow through with the invite but was still confused by what he was referring to with the Wildlings.

“None from Robert?” Rhaegar asked, but Aerea knew that her brother did not care for their cousins, especially Robert.

“No, but Ned usually tells me about how our cousin doing.”

Aerys let out a laugh, “Steffon has always been bad at writing back. It seems he passed that trait unto his son.”

Aerea hummed but her eyes visibly widened as she reached the end of Jaime’s letter.

Rhaella noticed this, “What is wrong, sweetling.”

“Jaime has been betrothed.” Aerea said.

“To whom?” Rhaella asked, curious about which young girl Joanna and her husband chose for their son.

“Princess Elia Martell.”

The room was silent before Aerys broke out into loud and boisterous laughter.

“So that is what Tywin decided to do?! Has the birth of his dwarf truly made him so desperate as to have a dirty Dornish whore for his son's wife?!” He cried out, his laughter almost making his words hard to understand.

Aerea regretted speaking but knew that Aerys would have found out, whether from a courtly gossip or Tywin himself.

After a few moments, Aerys calmed down, but was still cruelly smiling. “Honestly, what would the bottom feeders of Dorne have to offer?”

“Dorne does have resources that cannot be found anywhere else, father. And the current members of House Martell have Valyrian blood after Dorne was brought into the fold.” Rhaegar spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

Over a hundred years prior, King Baelor the Blessed had arranged the marriage between his second cousin, Daeron, and Myriah Martell, younger sister of the Prince of Dorne, Maron Martell.

And years later, after the death of Aegon IV, the Unworthy, Daeron ascended as Daeron the second and decided to officially bring Dorne under Targaryen rule, not through conquest, but through the marriage of his sister, Daenerys, and Prince Maron.

Aerys glared at his son, “That still does not erase their dirty blood. And like you said, the Valyrian blood they obtained due to that fool Daeron II came when Dorne became a part of Westeros, a hundred years ago.”

Rhaella sighed, already knowing about her brother's thoughts about the Dornish. She was only glad that Rhaegar did not mention Daeron and Myriah’s four children; Baelor, Aerys, Rhaegal, and Maekar.

For it was from King Maekar and his wife, Dyanna Dayne, in which the current generation of the Targaryen family derived.

“Still, even if it’s miniscule, Tywin will now have Targaryen blood in his line.” Aerys muttered, thinking everything over.

I will definitely have to speak to Tywin. I need to know what that crafty bastard is planning.

~X~

Days Later

Aerea stood on the balcony of her mother's apartment watching as Rhaegar and his party disappeared into the distance. The princess rested her chin on her palm and sighed, still upset about not being allowed to go on the trip.

“You are still upset?” Rhaella asked as she walked onto the balcony, pulling Aerea into her arms.

“No.” Aerea lied, leaning onto her mother’s chest and pouting.

Rhaella smiled, bending down and kissing Aerea’s forehead. “I too wish I was going.”

“You do?” Aerea asked.

Rhaella hummed, staring at the King's Road. “I do, it’s been so long since I have left King's Landing.”

The two maintained their embrace, both desiring to leave these walls for greater wonders.

A knock was heard at the door before Barristan entered the room. “His Grace has requested Princess Aerea’s presence, my Queen.”

“My husband is still in his meeting with the small council, is he not?” Rhaella asked, confused by what need Aerys would have for their daughter.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Rhaella looked down at her daughter, “Go with Ser Barristan, darling.”

“Yes, mother.” Aerea replied, removing herself from Rhaella’s arms and walking past the Kingsguard.

“Did my father say what he wanted with me, Ser Barristan?” Aerea asked the man as they started walking towards the small council chamber.

“No, he did not, princess.” Barristan answered.

Aerea was curious, because while she had been to many court sessions that her father held, she had never been to a small council meeting.

Even Rhaegar was only recently allowed in the meetings, labeled Aerys' cupbearer at the start of the year.

It did not take long for the pair to reach the chamber, being let into the room by Ser Oswell Whent. His distinctive helmet emblazoned with a black bat with its wings spread, symbolizing House Whent, gleaming in the light coming from a nearby window.

As they entered, the conversation in the room stopped as the men of the council looked at the princess.

“I have brought the princess as you have requested, Your Grace.” Barristan said as he bowed to his King.

Aerys looked over at the knight, nodding his head before giving his attention to his daughter. “Aerea.”

Aerea bowed to her Aerys, “Father. I hope I have not kept you waiting.”

“Of course not, you are on time for the meeting.” Aerys spoke.

Aerea blinked, “Father?”

“You will be taking up your brother’s position of cupbearer until his return.” Aerys said before looking towards his council.

They caught the look and one by one gave their congratulations to the princess.

“Congratulations, Princess Aerea.” Tywin was the last of the councilors to speak, giving him a nod of his head from his place next to Aerys.

“Thank you, Lord Tywin.” Aerea replied, meeting his gaze directly.

The meeting soon continued as it had before the princess had arrived, the councilors bringing issues and news of the realm to the King to be resolved and dealt with.

Aerea went to the table in the corner of the room holding glasses and pitchers of wine, she placed the cups in front of each person, filling them with wine. Once she did this, she walked back to the corner table, placing the pitcher down and standing next to it.

Is this all Rhaegar does? Aerea thought, quickly growing bored.

And this is how Aerea continued to feel, she thought that it had been at least an hour since she had arrived but realized only ten minutes had passed.

Aerea then took to counting the cracks on the ceiling to pass the time, dreading having to do this task until Rhaegar returned.

“The trade war between Myr and Volantis has escalated now that word has spread of Tyrosh joining Myr, Your Grace. Both sides have asked for our aid, but I believe that it would be best to remain neutral.” Tywin said, trying to urge this course of action onto his King.

Aerys thought this over before speaking, “Myr and Tyrosh have decided to gang up to beat Volantis into submission. They know that Volantis is the stronger and more superior city and are trying to rise themselves higher, so we shall provide gold and arms for the Volantenes.”

Tywin’s nostrils flared, “But Your Grace-”

“We will not side with cowards, that will not be what my reign will be known for.” Aerys said, cutting if Tywin.

Aerea’s brow furrowed, “But what about our trade?”

The princess was not aware that her muttering had been heard as Tywin looked at her, “What was that, Princess Aerea?”

Aerea jumped, looking at the man in surprise, “What?”

“You said something about this matter.” Tywin explained, “I would like to hear it.”

Aerea looked past the Hand and towards her father, Aerys glared at the side of Tywin’s head, but then gave Aerea a nod, signaling that she was to speak.

Aerea gulped, “I said, ‘what about our trade?’ Westeros does far more trade with Myr and Tyrosh than it does with Volantis due to the other two cities’ closer proximity. If you side with Volantis, then Myr and Tyrosh may decide to withhold important goods from the continent.”

Aerea had learned about the various trade agreements that Westeros had with Essos in her lessons with her maester. She knew that the few Westerosi ships that went to Volantis, returned filled with spices and silk from the Jade Sea, but those paled in comparison to the food, weapons, gold, minerals, lace, glass, metals, and tapestries that came from Myr and Tyrosh.

“The princess makes a good point, Your Grace. Our economy will suffer if we are cut off from Myrmen and Tyroshi trade.” Lord Qarlton added, the man paled at the thought of the coin lost and the work that would need to be done to rebound the country if they lost trade with the two cities.

Aerys did not acknowledge the man, continuing to stare at Aerea, his face emotionless as his voice. “So, you agree with Tywin, Aerea?”

Aerea hesitated, knowing about her father and the Hand’s deteriorating relationship, but strengthened her resolve. “Yes, father. Being neutral would be the best option as all three cities are important to the trade of Westeros.”

Aerys maintained his deadeye stare, but eventually sighed, “Fine.” He then turned to Tywin, “Write to the triarchs, we will be staying neutral in this matter.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Tywin replied.

“If that is all then this meeting is adjourned.” Aerys said to his councilors.

The councilors stood from their chairs and began to leave the chamber, each one casting a look between the King and his daughter. But the person that Aerea took the most notice of was Tywin, the Lord Hand looking at her differently than he ever had.

The princess did not understand the meaning of this look, but shivered as she felt Tywin’s gaze continue to rest on her until he exited the chamber.

“Aerea, come here.” Aerys said once they were alone, well, alone with Barristan who was standing by the door.

Aerea walked until she was standing in front of her father, Aerys was still sitting down, turning his body to face Aerea fully.

Aerys then lifted his hand and placed it on Aerea’s shoulder, drawing her closer to him.

“I am proud of you, daughter.” The King spoke.

“You are?” Aerea asked aloud.

“Of course, you have a keen eye and a sharp mind. You will be a worthy councilor to I and your brother in the future.” Aerys explained.

Aerea blushed, happiness washing over her as she accepted her father’s praise. “But there has never been a woman as an official member of the small council.”

Aerys scoffed, “You will not be an ordinary woman.”

Aerea was about to respond when Aerys continued, “But you cannot side with Tywin Lannister.”

Aerea looked at her father confused, “Father?”

“Tywin will seek to undermine my authority, as he always has if he thinks he can use you against me. Him choosing Elia Martell as his son’s bride, is proof of this.”

Aerys could see through the plot Tywin was trying to build, trying to increase his own influence by tying Dorne to the Westerlands.

“I wasn’t siding with Lord Tywin, father. It is just... he’s idea was the right one in that moment.” Aerea said softly, lowering her head.

Aerys let out a harsh breath, “You are still young and naive, Aerea. I fear how many would seek to take advantage of you once they see you as I do.”

Aerea looked up, “What do you mean, father?”

“That is not important, just remember what I told you.”

“To not side with Lord Tywin.”

Aerys smiled, “Exactly. You can go.”

Aerea bowed to the King and walked out of the chamber, Barristan immediately following her.

Aerea found herself conflicted; she did not believe that she was siding with Tywin, but the Hand was right about maintaining neutrality in the trade war between the three Free Cities.

Aerea then started thinking about what Rhaella had told her about Aerys and Tywin, that her father was insecure, and this insecurity led him to becoming jealous of the other man.

And she was not oblivious to the whispers that traveled through the Red Keep, despite his best efforts to stop them, what Aerys had done to Ilyn Payne still in the minds of many, people still spoke of how it was Tywin who truly ruled the realm while Aerys was just his figurehead.

Why is everything so complicated? I was not even trying to give my opinion and now it seems I am in the middle of father and Lord Tywin’s war. Aerea thought.

“Ser Barristan.” Aerea said, drawing the man’s attention.

“Yes, princess?” Barristan replied.

“Can you teach me the more advanced forms?” Aerea asked.

“More than what you are already learning?” Barristan asked.

Aerea had been the most promising of students, in the few years that he had been teaching her, Barristan had seen massive improvement, and now the princess was besting boys that were a few years older and had greater experience than her.

“Yes, my brother has been made a squire and, in a few years, he will be made into a knight. I can’t let myself fall behind.” Aerea answered, while it was true that she wanted to keep up with Rhaegar, she wanted something to take her mind off how she was feeling.

Barristan stared at his young charge, “You do not have to push yourself, princess. Taking a comfortable pace is just as important as improvement.”

Aerea sighed, “You heard what my father said; he was proud of me. I don’t want to lose that.”

The Kingsguard looked at the girl with pity but acquiesced, “Then we shall learn the more advanced forms. But we can stop and return to our pervious lessons whenever you wish.”

Aerea smiled at the man, “Thank you, Barry.”

“Of course, princess.” Barristan smiled as they headed toward the yard.

~X~

Rhaegar stood silently as he took in the ruins of Summerhall, marveling at what was left of its vast architecture.

The land around the property was rich and beautiful, a stark contrast to many areas of the Stormlands, but this only served to make what was left of Summerhall more desolate and broken.

He and the rest of the party had just left Storm’s End two days before, visiting Lord Steffon and his family, promising to return after visiting the other house on his journey.

Their next stop was supposed to be the next closest castle, Griffin’s Roost, the seat of House Connington, but at Rhaegar’s behest they took the King’s Road and headed to Summerhall.

Rhaegar had made the trip to the ruins alone, ordering Ser Gerold and Ser Lewyn to remain with the rest of the group at the campsite a few miles away. While both disagreed with the prince’s desire, neither could refuse him and reluctantly did as they were told.

And so, Prince Rhaegar rode on his horse, with nothing but a bag of rations, a blanket, and a dagger at his hip for protection. He promised to return to camp the next day and that they would continue their journey as scheduled.

He had slept in the ruined hall of Summerhall beneath the moon and the stars, feeling at peace despite the frigid air and uncomfortable ground.

This is where I was born, a life brought into the world in a ceremony of fire and blood, of death and destruction. Rhaegar thought.

But this would also be the place where his story would start, where his legend would take shape, molding him into the world’s savior.

Rhaegar had read through the older scrolls in the library of the Red Keep, books that were written by his great grandfather, King Aegon V Targaryen, they spoke of a prophecy regarding the return of dragons, how the past King had learned of this from his uncle, Aerys I.

After this, Rhaegar knew that he needed to find out more about this prophecy, but his great grandfather was long dead, taken during the Tragedy of Summerhall. As he thought this over, the prince remembered that there was still one living member of House Targaryen that would have known about Aegon’s writings.

This is what led him to first writing to Aemon Targaryen, the older brother of Aegon V and the third son of Maekar I.

The man had been given over to the Citadel at the age of nine by the order of his grandfather, Daeron II, as the King had four sons, three with children of their own at the time and felt that having so many potential heirs was dangerous.

By the time he was a grown man, Aemon had crafted his first chain and become a maester, having no interest in courtly politics nor the desire for power.

So, when his father died, and many lords suggested that Aemon should be released from his vows and succeed his father due to their dislike of Aegon, who they considered ‘half peasant’ after his time as Duncan the Tall’s squire, Aemon instead chose to join the Night’s Watch, not wanting to be used in the plots of nobles to usurp his younger brother.

Rhaegar had not been expecting a response, sure that his far flung relative had no care for the family members he had never met but was desperate for answers. It came as a happy surprise when he later received a response from his great great uncle.

Aemon had written to him kindly, telling him of the prince that was promised, a prophesied savior that was a part of an ancient prophecy, foretelling of a hero that would deliver the world from darkness, and Aemon agreed with Rhaegar that he was the prophesied prince, that his birth more than proved this.

A bleeding star, along with smoke and salt, are to herald the coming of the prince that was promised. You were born during the tragedy, nephew. The light from the fire causing the sky to appear as if it were bleeding would be the bleeding star, the smoke would be from the fire as Summerhall burned, and salt from the tears of those who cried there over the lives lost.

Most importantly, the woods witch that had convinced your grandparents, my niece and nephew that your parents must wed was because she foretold that the prince that was promised would be born from their line. Aemon had written to him, adding weight to their shared theory.

This was what pushed Rhaegar to become a warrior, knowing that if he were to save the world from an upcoming threat, he would have to be strong enough to face it.

This weight, this destiny rests on my shoulders. I will be the one to end the darkness, to save the world. I am the only one who can do this.

Summerhall was his beginning, the place where his song had formed, intertwining him with fate itself and he would do everything in his power to fulfill his prophecy.

~X~

Griffin’s Roost

The small castle lay surrounded by red stone cliffs on three sides, which descend into the stormy waters of Shipbreaker Bay, jutting out from the shores of Cape Wrath. The land-facing approach was a long natural ridge called the griffin's throat, the entrance to the griffin's throat was guarded on one end by a gatehouse, and by the castle's main gate and two round towers on the other end.

The group had just reached Griffin’s Roost, being greeted by the entirety of House Connington at the behest of Lord Armond Connington. Right now, Rhaegar was being shown around the castle by Jon Connington, the son of Lord Armond, and heir to Griffin’s Roost.

Jon was a year younger than Rhaegar with fiery red hair and pale blue eyes. He was as proud, energetic, and reckless as any Stormlander, thirsting for the opportunity to prove himself, to find glory that he would be known in the history books for.

Jon had been sent to King’s Landing to squire for one of the great knights that called the city their home, and Jon quickly showed his skill, being taken by Gerold Hightower as one of his squires.

Rhaegar had known about the young griffin, as Crown Prince he had made to be aware of all the noble children that could that lived in the Red Keep. But it was not until he decided to start his martial training that Jon along with other young boys and men began to flock to him more.

Rhaegar found Jon more tolerable than the others, and this was due to how easy it was to read him. Jon lacked the trained ability to hide his emotions, what you saw was what you got from the young lord, because of this Rhaegar found it easier to relax when Jon was near, but still maintained enough of a distance from him.

“Here we are, my prince.” Jon said, allowing Rhaegar to see the view before them.

Jon had taken them to the top of the castle's east tower, a place that overlooked the nearby forests and crags.

“It’s a beautiful sight.” Rhaegar remarked, moving past the other boy and standing by the ledge.

Jon squared his shoulders back, pride evident in his features.

“We will need to return to your lord father soon.” Rhaegar spoke, still staring off into the distance.

Jon sighed, becoming annoyed at the mention of Armond. “Yes, I'm sure that my father would love to complain some more.”

Shortly after they arrived at Griffin’s Roost, Armond had tried to the young prince on his side because Armond had recently gotten into an argument with Lord Michael Morrigen of Crow's Nest.

The lords were having a dispute over some land along the King's mountain, so Armond was hoping that having Rhaegar support him would cause the issue to fall in his favor.

“It is of no consequence, Jon. I am the prince of the realm and will one day be King. These matters are one that I should see to.” Rhaegar said, “Shall we go?”

“Of course, my prince.”

~X~

Hours Later

Jon Connington found himself mesmerized as he watched the scene before him.

His father had thrown a welcoming feast for Rhaegar that night, celebrating the start of his fortnight long stay in their home. Drink were had and food was eaten, it had been a standard feast until Rhaegar had asked a servant to bring his harp from his bedchamber.

When the servant returned, harp in hand, Rhaegar walked to the front of the hall, the room falling into silence as they watched their prince. As he reached the front, Rhaegar began to play the harp, its melodic tune carrying throughout the hall. Jon had known about the prince’s talent with the instrument, but seeing him perform was entirely different.

Jon looked around the room and saw that almost every woman there had begun to cry, moved by the prince's song. But none of the men shed a tear nor did they appear to be enthralled, and it angered him to see some of them look bored, waiting for the song to be over.

How dare they insult Prince Rhaegar? They should feel honored to hear him play. Jon thought.

The young lord had always admired the prince, noticing his intelligence, his drive, and his skill, but lately Jon could not help but feel even more strongly about Rhaegar now that they had gotten to know each other. Unlike the other boys who threw themselves so pathetically at Rhaegar’s feet, Jon was the one Rhaegar had chosen to become his friend.

It was not just him, there were a few others who had also done so; Arthur Dayne, Richard Lonmouth, and Myles Mooton. But Jon knew he had surpassed them all and claimed the title of Rhaegar’s closest friend.

Richard and Myles were younger than Rhaegar, both being three years younger than the prince, and two years younger than Jon. And while three years was not a huge age difference, it was enough that to Jon they would still be seen as children in Rhaegar’s eyes, not those that Rhaegar would be able to confide in causally.

Arthur on the other hand was older than both Jon and Rhaegar, being two years older than the prince, but Jon could never see Rhaegar trusting someone like Arthur. To him, the only things Arthur had going for him were his skill with a blade and being the squire of Prince Lewyn.

I far out rank that Dornish second son, anything Rhaegar needs I will be able to provide him better than Arthur. And yet that Dornish man still continues to hang around.

Jon's annoyance soon left him as he caught Rhaegar’s eye.

Rhaegar had made eye contact with Jon for a few moments, still continuing to play his harp. Jon felt his heart race, his cheeks burn, and his hand sweat due to the intensity of Rhaegar’s gaze.

Rhaegar soon closed his eyes again, playing his song just a bit slower than before.

Jon did not understand what he was feeling towards the prince, having never experienced such feelings with anyone else, but knowing that he desired more of his prince's attention.