The Dragon and his Pup

In the Tower of Joy, Rhaegar paced nervously. He could hear the screams beyond the doors. His beloved Lyanna was giving birth, but it wasn't going right. Elia, when she had come to term, had taken neither so long nor screamed so much.

He looked at his companions. Gerolt "The Bull" Hightower was a giant of a man wearing the pristine armor of the Kingsguard. He seemed to share the prince's nervousness, as did his comrade and Rhaegar's second companion, Arthur Dayne. The knight was called the Sword of the Morning for a good reason: only the best fighter of House Dayne was allowed the title, along with the right to carry Dawn, the legendary sword crafted out of the iron heart of a fallen star. Only Valyrian steel matched star iron. Ser Gerolt and Ser Arthur were, in the opinion of Rhaegar and many others, the best swordsmen of Westeros, which was exactly why they were there. The Prince had a mission for them.

At last, the screams halted and were replaced by a soft wail. Rhaegar held the urge to burst in the room and gently pushed the door instead. He cringed. Lyanna's bed was covered with her blood – way, way too much blood. It didn't bode well at all. Rhaegar was suddenly deadly afraid, and rightfully so. What the wet nurse told him filled him with sorrow.

"My apologies, my Prince. Princess Lyanna gave birth to a son, but I'm afraid she lost too much blood to live long."

It was as if an icy fist had clenched Rhaegar's heart.

"Is the boy…?"

"Healthy, the Seven be blessed."

The prince breathed. For a moment, he had dreaded losing both. Sparing his son a look, he turned to Lyanna. His beloved didn't have long to live. He was going to make the best of it.

"Lyanna? My blue rose…"

Lyanna turned to him, her face pale as snow.

"My prince…"

Her voice was feeble. She held a hand. Rhaegar kissed it and took it to his face. Lyanna shuddered.

"I'm sorry. I wish… we had more time."

"Me as well. Don't worry, our son is healthy."

Lyanna smiled. Rhaegar lost himself in her soft grey eyes. They were beautiful, but not as beautiful as her smile, which had enraptured his heart the moment he saw it. The prince would have done everything he could to see it again, and he had. Her most radiant smile had been when they had given their vows. He would never forget it.

They stayed like this for a moment. Eventually, Lyanna turned to their son and moved her hand. Understanding, Rhaegar took their son and held it to her level. Lyanna watched him, love in her eyes. Rhaegar watched him too. The newborn child had grey eyes just like his mother and a mop of black hair on his head. There was very little in him that looked Targaryen, but maybe, when he grew up…

"He is beautiful." Lyanna uttered.

"I know. Welcome to life, Jaeron Targaryen the First, our little dragon-pup."

Lyanna smiled.

"Jaeron… I like it. Rhae… let me…"

Rhaegar nodded and put the boy in his mother's lap, making sure he didn't touch any blood. Lyanna held him as she could, supported by her husband. From the door, Ser Arthur and Ser Gerolt watched the scene, sadness and fondness in their eyes. Husband, wife and son remained like this, together. Eventually, Lyanna's breath fell short. Rhaegar froze.

"Lya!"

Lyanna didn't have the strength to speak anymore. Instead, she gave her prince one last smile before her grey eyes shut forever. Rhaegar felt his heart shatter.

"Lya…No…"

Holding his son close, the prince wept. Ser Arthur and Ser Gerolt closed their eyes and looked down. There was nothing they could do except staying close to their prince. Rhaegar sobbed softly, pain numbing his body. After a quarter of an hour, he stood and handed his son to the wet nurse. Then he took his bodyguards in the next room and took a map of Westeros.

"Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerolt Hightower, I have one last mission for you – the most important of your life."

"Say the word, my liege." Ser Arthur didn't hesitate. "We shall fulfill it to the best of our skill."

Rhaegar's eyes hardened.

"I want you to take my son somewhere safe, away from Robert and his allies. I want you two to watch over him and raise him, and when he is of age, serve him as you served me. He is the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms and my sole heir. He has to live. And I want you to make sure he does."

Ser Arthur and Ser Gerolt looked at one another. Of all the things, they had not expected that.

"We will, Your Highness. The crown prince is safe with us."

"Good."

Ser Arthur frowned.

"The safest place in Westeros… Away from Robert. I believe this would be the Northlands, especially the northern parts of it. It is lightly populated, and the land is harsh, but nothing we can't handle. Besides, now I think about it, Lady Lyanna is the sister of Eddard Stark…"

"And Jaeron looks nothing like a Targaryen. This will save his life. So, North?"

"Yes. I will be daring and say as close to the Wall as we can."

"Keep him alive is all I ask. I leave the details to you. I have my own set of duties, and it is to make sure you make it this far. I have a few ideas."

The prince looked at the map.

"My forces are gathered at King's Landing. I will march them to the Trident, where the Red, Blue and Green Forks meet. It is close to where the Kingsroad meets the River Road, right on the way to King's Landing. Robert won't be able to resist such juicy target, especially with me there. He has openly stated he wants my head… Well, he will have it. But he won't have Jaeron."

"Wait, what?"

The two Kingsguards looked at one another.

"Your Highness…" Ser Gerolt said softly. "What are you saying?"

Rhaegar looked them in the eyes.

"Exactly what I said."

The wet nurse came behind them. The little prince was drinking at her breast.

"He is right. We have a saying back home: three can keep a secret if two are dead. If you want to preserve the young prince, it is better as few people as possible know he exist, as well as who he is. So far, only the four of us do. With our beloved prince dying at the Trident, this will leave the three of us."

Ser Gerolt turned to the nurse.

"You want to join us?"

"He needs a mother. I don't see any of you brave Sers breastfeed him or change his diapers!"

Busted. Rhaegar nodded.

"This is an excellent idea. Lady…"

"Gwen Flowers, my prince."

"Lady Gwen, you will accompany Ser Arthur and Ser Gerolt to the North. I charge you with being to Jaeron the mother Lyanna should have been…" He looked at his knights. "And Ser Arthur with being the father I won't be. Now, while I confront Robert at the Trident, the three of you will sneak west through the Whispering Woods and Ironman's Bay. Avoid the Twins, sneak to the western shores until you reach Fever and the Barrowlands to bypass the Neck. From there, it will be easy to reach the Kingsroad and cross the Wolfswood to the Last River."

Ser Gerolt gave the map a solid look.

"Sounds like a good idea, my prince. Besides, a small group such as us will have an easier time sneaking through than a larger band."

Rhaegar looked at the map, solemn.

"Meanwhile, I will lure Robert's army at the Trident, draw all of his strength so he is focused east. This should give you a window to cross the Riverlands. Not only that… Lyanna, forgive me. I will spread rumors that our affair wasn't consensual, that I abducted her and raped her and that she died giving birth to a stillborn child. The Targaryens are renowned for falling prey to madness… This will play in my favor. Not only will they believe Jaeron is dead, this will make me the focus of their ire. Blinded by wrath, they will see only me and, once I'm dead, they won't try to look any further. They will ignore you, and their ignorance will be your salvation."

None of the Kingsguards liked the idea. At all. Their beloved prince sullying his name and the love he shared with Lyanna was an anathema to them, but they had to admit the plan was sound.

"Very well, my liege." Ser Arthur sighed. "We will do as you say. I don't like your side of the plan, but I understand."

"I'll try to make the battle last as long as I can. Please, make haste."

The Kingsguards and the nurse nodded. Rhaegar took some ink and parchment and began writing. Soon, a letter was ready. He handed it to Ser Arthur.

"Give it to him when you deem him ready. Since he can't understand me yet… Those are my last words to him."

"I will make sure he reads it, my liege. Don't worry."

They still took the time to clean Lyanna's body before leaving. After that, they headed east to Cinder Hall, parting ways midway. From Cinder Hall, the trio crossed the Roseroad toward Hornvale and went west toward Riverrun but didn't reach the city, keeping within view of it without setting foot inside. They made haste, using every bit of skill to avoid armies and any band that spotted a weapon. Once or twice, the two Kingsguards had to run thugs through their sword to protect themselves. There would be no witness.

However, for some reason, Ser Arthur insisted for a quick trip to Lannisport. Ser Gerolt questioned his judgment, only for the Kingsguard to avoid the town and head to a forest instead. He had bought wine and a loaf of white bread. The Bull had no idea what he had in mind, and Gwen didn't know either. When they finally reached a hut, they understood.

Ser Arthur entered, bread in one hand and Jaeron in the other. The crone inside watched them warily.

"What strange visitors… Welcome in the abode of Maggy the Frog. What can I do for you?"

Ser Arthur handed her the bread.

"I came to inquire about the future of my son. Here is a loaf of fresh white bread for payment."

Maggy watched the bread, her eyes barely hiding her hunger.

"What a generous gift! Such commodities are hard to come by. Very well, hand me the boy."

Ser Arthur tensed when she drew a twisted knife, only to draw a single drop of blood she licked from the blade. Her eyes widened.

"…You lied, he isn't your son. He is a dragon and direwolf both. You want to know his future… Very well. You paid me, after all, and generously. You will journey north, ever and again, to the lands ever white. His heart shall be an icy flame burning on ardent snow. A prince he is and a king he shall become, one with an icy crown until Winter chases him back to the lands of his forebears… but he shan't lose it, for ice has become steel. On dragon's wings shall be the journey south, and on dragon's wings shall his reign last, merry and long."

Ser Arthur nodded.

"So, you know who he is. Then you know his enemies are numerous. What of them?"

Maggy raised a brow. Ser Arthur took the bottle of wine and placed it next to the bread. Maggy stared.

"…Many indeed. The Stag and the Lion want him dead, but the Wolf is reluctant, and the Falcon and Trout follow the Wolf while the Kraken watches. The Flower lets itself be eaten by the Stag, but its thorns long to prick for the Dragon, and the Viper is forgiving, but not forgetful. But this is now and you want then." The witch exhaled. "The Wolf shall show the way north, and it shall welcome him back when Winter comes, for when winter comes and the white wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. By then, there will be three Stags: one with the body of a Lion, one with fiery horns and the last with roses crowning its head. Listen well."

Maggy starred at the trio. Everyone listened.

"If a Wolf can prosper in Summer, then a Rose can bloom in Winter and the rose-crowned Stag will follow the White Wolf. Then the Viper shall forgive. The Trout will freeze beneath the Twin Towers, only to be thawed out by dragon fire. The Kraken may rule the sea, but it doesn't rule the sky, and it would do well to remember that. The Lion will roar against the White Wolf and the flame-crowned Stag, but fiery horns and icy fangs will silence it forever after the Lion-Stag shows its true head. At last, White Wolf and flame-crowned Stag will fight, and the ice-cold flames will swallow the ardent ones, just in time for Winter to fall. Finally… Finally, the Falcon will start it all."

It was cryptic, but it was expected. Ser Arthur wrote the prophecy down.

"Thank you for your insight, milady. We shall be on our way."

Maggy nodded. As soon as they left, she licked her lips and dipped a morsel of white bread in the wine. Tonight, she would feast.

They had just left Whispering Woods when the rumor of battle reached them.

"We must make haste." Ser Gerolt frowned. "The prince is drawing Robert's forces now. This is our time."

Ser Arthur nodded and made a point of shifting for fresh horses. Now began their race against time.

. . . . .

Rhaegar looked at his men. He wondered how many would be alive once the battle was over. On the other side of the ford, Robert watched him. Even though he had a helm, the prince could feel his burning fury.

'Good.' He thought. 'Channel your hatred. I stole your beloved Lyanna, after all. Foolish Stag, you could only see the petals of this rose, never the thorns beneath. But I have, and this is why Jaeron is my son instead of yours.'

At his orders, the men charged.

. . . . .

Ser Arthur, Ser Gerolt and Gwen Flowers galloped restlessly across the Riverlands, heading west of Oldstones and following the shores of Ironman's Bay. They were watching Seagard when the news reached them. More exactly, little Jaeron began to wail helplessly. Gwen tried every trick she knew, nothing seemed to calm the boy. Then they heard the battle's outcome.

"Prince Rhaegar has fallen at the Trident ford! Robert the Usurper smashed his chest with his hammer so hard the rubies in his armor fell in the river!"

The three adults looked at one another.

"He must have sensed it." Gwen sighed. "Poor child. He is an orphan now."

"We will fulfill our prince's mission." Ser Arthur said, his voice trembling. "We will raise him and watch over him as we watched over his father."

Avoiding Seagard, they headed to the thick forest west of the Neck's marshes, silently mourning Rhaegar's death.

. . . . .

Water was splashing around him as the prince charged the usurper, sword in hand. In the middle of the ford, blade met hammer in a thunderous clash. A nimble blow killed Rhaegar's mount, forcing him to roll on his foot. He didn't care. When Robert charged him, he shifted left and cut his horse's legs. Robert collapsed in the ford. Rhaegar was on him the next moment, his sword, clashing against the hammer's handle.

"I raped your betrothed!" Rhaegar shouted over the noise. "I kidnapped her from her home and fucked her like the bitch she was!"

Robert roared in fury.

"You draconic cunt! I'll crush that pretty head of yours!"

Rhaegar removed his helmet.

"You're welcome to try! Stags are nothing but preys! Dragons… Dragons are the ultimate predators, the rulers of the sky! And you are my prey now!"

"We'll see who hunts the other!"

They fought. Robert's hammer was deadly, each swing barely missing the prince by a hair. But it never reached Rhaegar, who danced out of the way every time. He spoke words, taunting, teasing. Nearby, Ser Barristan Selmy couldn't believe half of what he was hearing.

"She had a spawn, you know? An ugly, misshapen thing that killed her and died after. There was blood up the ceiling. You would have hated the sight, to see your so precious blue rose so messed up! And it is. All. My. Doing."

Robert saw red.

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

Rhaegar barely had the time to raise his sword to block the hammer. Robert yanked it brutally and, before the prince could react, smashed it in his chest. Rhaegar gasped, feeling his armor bend and break under the pressure that made short work of his ribs. The ribs pierced his lungs, cutting his breath short and filling it with blood. As he collapsed, he saw Lyanna's face one last time. His last thoughts went to his son.

'Jaeron, please be well.'

. . . . .

Soon, the rumors spread. Rhaegar had abducted and raped Lyanna. She had died in childbirth. The child was stillborn and misshapen. The Last Dragon was, in the end, no better than his ancestors. The trio caught wind of the rumors and it disgusted them. They knew it was a lie. Ser Arthur had taken a glimpse at Rhaegar's letter and had to fight back tears after the third line. No matter what people said, the prince had loved his son deeply. They crossed the Fever, avoiding Moat Cailin and only rejoined the Kingsroad midway through the Barrowlands. From there, they followed the road north, quitting it before reaching Cerwyn and Winterfell and returning to it once they reached the Wolfswood. Rumors reached them even there. It made them shudder.

King's Landing sacked. The Lannisters turned on the king. King Aerys killed by his own Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister. Elia Martell, Rhaegar's previous wife, raped and killed by Gregor Clegane after he killed young Aegon and princess Rhaella. Robert Baratheon crowned. Much as they hated it, the trio was extremely glad for Rhaegar's lie. No one had come after them. They settled on the shore of Last River, Ser Gerolt hiding in Winterfell under a disguise.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Jaeron Targaryen, known to the locals as Jon Snow, grew up.

Who said wolves were the only ones with a strong parental instinct? Dragons can be equally protective of their brood. A wolf and a dragon having a child? They will both die before he gets hurt. This is what Rhaegar would have done if his son was born before he died (I think).

See you soon !