Hello Everyone!
This story is a set of AUs (though only one is written and one more is planned at this point) with the basis being setup in chapter one with Rhaella deciding to run away with another man before she is wed to Aerys. Each chapter past chapter one will be the AU with one specific man (Steffon Baratheon being the first choice and alternate version of history).
The starting point for the AUs is around 258 AC.
I hope you enjoy it!
Changing Fate
Princess Rhaella Targaryen would not be a pawn in her family's delusions. The moment she heard of her father's plans for herself and Aerys to wed she fought against it. She had pled her case to her mother, then to her grandmother the Queen, to her father, and then to her grandfather the King. Her pleas had all fallen on deaf ears. The only one who showed her any semblance of pity and understanding was her grandmother, though even she offered her no escape. "The Prince who is Promised will come from your union," they all told her. She knew it was a lie. In her dreams she only saw fire and death. No dragons would be reborn from their union, just destruction.
So as the days drew nearer for her marriage, she planned her escape. Her parents had run away together, breaking their betrothal pacts. Her uncle Duncan had wed a commoner. Her uncle Daeron had rejected his betrothal. She could choose her own path. She could forge her own future.
Rhaella was to wed her brother, Prince Aerys, in a week. The castle was already teeming with relations and courtiers who would witness the ceremony. She felt as though she was drowning yet no one could see. She felt herself struggling to breathe every time she stood for her seamstresses as they made her gown. She couldn't do it. She had to escape.
The wedding was four days away when a mad idea came to her. It seemed unwise. It would likely fail, but she had to try.
She waited until the dead of night to put her plan into action. She slid out of her bed and dressed quickly in clothes she had prepared earlier in the evening. A dark dress, plain and unadorned, a dark hooded cloak, and sturdy boots. She slipped her dagger into her boot, just in case.
Ready, she walked to her fireplace and slid aside the panel which would open into the dark tunnels beneath the Keep and King's Landing itself. She stepped inside and slid the lever so that the wall would close again. She was enveloped in darkness. The only sounds were her breathing and the racing of her heart.
She stepped carefully along the way, a hand on either side of the tunnel. She could see nothing, though she could see a dull light somewhere ahead. She could hear nothing but her feet shuffling on the stone and her ragged breath echoing in the corridor.
The dim light grew slightly and she eventually reached the first slit in the wall which allowed light into the tunnel. She knelt down and there upon the ground was her leather satchel, just where she had placed it earlier that day. She pulled out a candle and lighted the wick with her flint. The spark caught and she was finally able to see her surroundings.
She fastened the satchel around her waist and continued on her way. She knew the distance she would need to cross to reach her destination. She had wandered these dark paths as a child, memorizing the winding corridors.
Once, as she walked across the length of the castle, she stepped into the normal passageway. She was in the proper building and on the correct floor. She returned to the tunnels, walked to the wall slit, and stepped inside.
The room was large for a guest chamber. Its furnishings were well made and it was typically used by guests of high position, which made sense given the occupant. She could see his form rise and fall beneath the coverings on the bed. The light filtering through the shutters was gray in the very early morning. She would need to act now or never.
She stepped closer to the bed, the ancient boards creaking softly beneath her feet. She could see the form of his face, peaceful in his slumber. Would he agree with her request? Or would he put her to shame? She placed her candle upon a table. Now or never, she took a breath and spoke his name.