"Your Gold Cloak Commander is being ineffective at keeping the peace within the city, Rhaegar." Jon was going to kill that incompetent Gold Cloak Commander, for allowing this large uncontrollable group of small folk to uprise off of their shite lands in Flea Bottom and into the streets of the rest of the city. So far, they've maimed the High Septon on Baelors holy statue, claiming he wasn't a true deity of the Seven Gods, given that he allowed an annulment of the very marriage he signed up for to begin with, killed a member of the King's Guard, raped several fleeing noblewoman, killed half a dozen noblemen, and even some innocent septons that just so happened to have gotten in their way. They were so far, pressing to Aegon's High Hill to the Red Keep, screaming justice for Elia Martell and her child, Rhaenys, even though It wasn't Rhaegar's wrong-doing. The people hated the Queen and King, and the Gold Cloaks were being of no help thus far, given that several of their members had been over-run and stampeded upon by those... unhappy souls.
"I know." Rhaegar took a sip of his large wine bottle with a drunken smile adoring his lips. "I hate them.. curse em!... You.. know... I want their houses burnt down, all of them. I.. wanna see smoke in my city, from you... bringing the hic gold cloaks to do so." Rhaegar's been getting more and more drunk each day, Jon thinks, concernedly. That wasn't a good thing for the King to being doing, given that he had a country to run as it was. But than again, Jon would think, if they burnt buildings than they'd risk burning the entire city down, which wasn't something Jon wanted to be responsible for. It's why I didn't burn Robert and that town during the battle of the battle of the Bells.. He'd think, wearily enough. Indeed, because of that, Rhaegar had gotten hurt - very hurt, considering it was he and Lord Eddard Stark that had to save the Queen in her tower of Joy. Plus, the man was walking with a cane, given that the injury was done to him - as in Robert's hammer had hit one of the King's legs, shattering his uttermost right knee cap. It was a miracle he had survived and beaten Robert, given the injury he had obtained from the battle-ax of Robert.
"We'd risk burning the entire city, If we were to burn their homes.." Jon stated, staring at the crowd bustling outside of the Aegonfort's vast gates. Indeed, there was a reason to be very wary of the situation going on here, in the main city of King's Landing, it was a sign of deep civil unrest. Though, the entire country was suffering - from the Riverlands, of whom's land were left scarred by the war, and many a Riverlanders were dead from the war on their territory and as for the North. The North suffered great losses during Robert's Rebellion, losing a great deal of Northerners during the in-fighting. And then there was the Vale, left almost completely unscathed during the battle besides for Gulltown, which Jon Arryn had attacked due to it's liege lord being a loyalist to the Crown during the fighting. It was still in a state of recovery, due to the attack done by the Vale Knights of Jon Arryn's and Robert Baratheon, even though Rhaegar was now forcing Jon Arryn to pay the Lord of Gulltown compensation to make up for his rather destructive attack on the port city.
"Whyyy… not? They seemed to want to.. see... me... dead... hic... They think that my marriage... that's... it's.. A grand ol' farce ... they... say... hic,Elia's my true and only wife..." He whinged, taking another sip of his wine, which sounding undeniably pathetic to Jon's ears. He didn't just fight a war for King Rhaegar's Kingship, just for him to settle into a drunkard of a King, even though he had a sufficient reason to be acting like this... right now at least.
"My King, do you mind sitting down at least?" He asked him, staring at King Rhaegar. He was hobbling around with that raven-coloured cane of his, which did not make him look very impressive at all. Not to mention, he had some milk and poppy right on the counter of the empty-like chamber, but he refused to touch the stuff in preference for drinking off his pain with a bottle. I think he's gravely upset that he'll never be able be as great as a fighter as he once was... He'd think cautiously to himself. Rhaegar use to be a great fighter, a prudent battle-commander more-or less. The Maesters say he'll forever be walking funnily due to Robert hurting one of his legs though.
The King stared at the chair in front of him, before slightly hobbling towards it, to prompt his legs on the table above. It may have been rather unKingly to do that, but Rhaegar really very much was hurt at the moment. "Fine. Now, Jon... hick.. Do what needs to be done against those small folk. Put em to the sword if you need too. I don't care, just get them to stop rampaging against my nobles, against my folk, as it was." Rhaegar sighed, before shooing him off with both a peculiar expression on his face and his loyal finger. He went back to drinking shortly afterwards he left. So far, he's finished two bottles of wine, which was pathetic. He was suppose to be a King, not be another Robert-in disguise, but at least he wasn't doing anything untimely towards Queen Lyanna, of whom was recovering from the birth of Prince Aemon in her bed chambers still. He wasn't so considerate towards Elia when she was recovering from Aegon's birth. Both of these woman of his - Elia and Lyanna alike, he didn't like them, but he didn't want to see them being abused by Rhaegar…
As soon as he walked out, however he ran into Prince Aegon sitting out in the hallway, with his raven-coloured kitten. He seemed to look a bit sad, sitting there, with those lavender coloured eyes of his having a bit of a red undertone underneath it. His sliver-gold hair was messy, even though it had been recently cut and bathed, and he was dressed in a fine raven-coloured outfit, meant for a little boy of his age. He was also contently patting the his little kitten ignoring everything around him, though there were things happening around the little prince's golden-sliver head.
"How'd you end up here, little Prince?" He wondered how this child somehow ended up here.
"Because... I wanna see pappy. He never visits me or Aeeemmon." He pouted, looking at him. The young Prince was said to suffer from heavy nightmares after losing Elia, and scared his younger brother due to his screams for his mother. He'd know, because sometimes he looked over the boy when he slept. He was such a tiny, innocent child, whom looked so very much like his father, that it was hard for Jon not to feel something of pity for the boy given the circumstances. He hoped that someday, when he was a father to his own brood of children, that he'd be able to comfort their tears when they were sad or mourning. Or when they fell over, but all he saw was open sadness in the little boy's lavender colored eyes, and he doubted Aegon knew why he was feeling so sad, due to him being so utterly young and being a mere tod amongst other things.
Rhaegar didn't seem to care for the two boys, but that was just what Jon assumed given that he was too busy crying that he lost Rhaenys, his third head, and too busy to even visit the two little boys and their nursemaids, though the Queen sometimes visited them. Though, Rhaegar did still considered Aegon the supposedPrince that was Promised - he was even willing to marry him off to Daenerys, his aunt and the newborn babe, simply both had the classical Valyrian look - golden-sliver hair and purple eyes. That marriage was arranged shortly after the Princess was born on Dragonstone. However, the Queen had died in the process of giving Daenerys life, but the King didn't seem like he mourning her. He never not once mentioned Rhaella, even though he attended seeing Rhaella's body burning in the traditional Targaryen fashion. He attended the affair without blinking a single drop of tears from his eye lids, and was completely stone faced throughout the entire ordeal, as far as Jon was aware, at least
"I'm sorry little one." He muttered. "You should go back to your room though."
"Ownly Qween Lyanna visits us, and she just stares at me like I.. I'm quite unwelcome.." His eyes filled with unsaid tears.
He was no good with children, though he'd help the boy up, along with his cat, and bring him back to his room. There, he saw little brown-haired Aemon sleeping. He looked so very much like his uncle, Lord Benjen Stark, if he was tiny and grumpier version of his uncle - and he gently put the boy back into the raven-coloured child's room - though the little prince protested against the action, with him crying that all he wanted was a lady to snuggle with, to keep him company, and read him books. Aegon didn't appear too happy, considering he kept on calling Balerion, the cat,Rhaenys friend. Which was a bit sad. He'd call the woman that kept watch forward to keep Aegon happy, as he immediately begun cuddling up against her on the bed, his hand on his cat as she softly laughed and leaned up against him.
He'd close the door silently, as to not disturb either of the little boys - from the infant to the tod, he'd be considerate of them both.
He walked back to the place where he'd assume the Gold Cloak commander was. The Gold cloak commander was a nobleman from House Massey, and thus was of an applicable rank, although he considered him incompetent as far as it went though. He was a tall, lean young man with sheen blonde-colored hair - but he, like most his age, thought war was a game. He use to think too, before he actually experienced it first hand. This young man was nearly five-and-ten years of age, a mere three year difference, but regardless, the age between them was astonishing. It was like looking at himself a year behind - when he was still a foolhardy boy, amongst other things, with stupid, foolhardy dreams that never came true. Indeed, Rhaegar saw to that. He was forced to marry a Hightower woman named Lynesse for his insured loyalty during Robert's rebellion. His marriage was enough to end any dreams of him with Rhaegar… which was unfortunate...
"Massey, if you don't get this large mass scale riot in line.." He snarled.
"You know, I didn't fight in the war, but this - these peasants are only scum with pitchforks. What could they possible do against armed knights beyond kneel?" The arrogant whippersnapper went, as he stood there, dressed in the cowl of House Massey.
"Oh, well let's see. They killed the High Septon by tearing him into two halves, killed several Kingslander lords - which include Lord Rykker, Lord Rosby, and Lady Stokeworth. They raped the beautiful virginal daughter of Lady Strokesworth, and some unimportant lesser known noblewoman. They are out of control, and if you don't do something about it, I'll have your head nailed on one of the Seven Entrances alongside the rotting head of Robert Baratheon." Jon was actually fully tempted to choke him himself if he didn't do something about it, immediately.
"The last Commander died by being nailed through the chest with a flaming pitchfork than he was promptly trampled on. I need reinforcements of Knights, if I'm to do my job. Mind if I borrow Arthur Dayne or Jaime Lannister?"
"No, but the King might. Better ask him." Jon knew he was the hand, but Rhaegar was being very precarious in regards to his King's Guard - and was tempted to dismiss Jaime, mostly to appease the wrath of Lord Tywin Lannister, and not to mention, the fact that Jaime was to marry Lady Lysa Tully soon, whilst his sister was to marry Stannis Baratheon to keep the Baratheons loyal to the throne, as it was. So best not to use the Golden boy against the blood-hungry crowd, he'd assume, to prevent Lord Tywin from losing his heir as it was, and not to mention, such tasks were beneath a nobleman such as himself anyhow. He was to be a Lord Paramount, someday anyhow, when Rhaegar retired him and sent him back to the Westerlands to make Tywin pleased. Which would likely happen, given that the King dearly waned the Old Lion on his side when rebuilding the Kingdom from its current state/
"Okay, Ser. Thank you for.. your threats.. I suppose." He frowned, but Jon took no heed of it. At least he got a message through that thick skull of his, which was all that was important as it stood.
"Best you go support your men, as their being slaughtered in the streets by those murderous kremlins." He sighed, at least it would do him better to actually be with his men on the streets than be hiding in this cupboard of all places. The boy looked down, before frowning and walking off. He wondered how the bloody fook that little boy had been chosen to lead the Golden Cloaks, amongst other things. He was barely old enough to be a Ser Knight, much less be in charge of the gang that was keeping King's Landing in order. That was a mystery he wished to ask Rhaegar, given that the last one had been a well-experienced older man from House Celtigar. It was a shame he died, given that he kept the Line in order and was quite competent at his given chore, as it was
The resolve,
The peasant revolt ended in pain. Lots of pain on either side. But not after Queen Lyanna gave birth to the first of many ugly stillbirths, in a sign that the gods disliked oath breakers, or so whispered around King's Landing. It was so ugly, the ordeal of the riot of King's Landing, that Rhaegar had to get a loan from Braavos's Iron Bank to clean up his debts and to rebuild the area of King's Landing the rioters had set on fire. He also ordered marriages, between Jon Arryn and Lord Grafton's sister, a young and healthy woman named Alyssa, and a promised marriage between Lord Renly Baratheon and Jeyne Connington, Lord Jon Connington's young daughter. He also used the money from Braavos to help rebuild the Riverlands and return prosperity to the realm.
But alas...
"Please Rhaegar, please stop hurting me.." Lyanna whimpered, as Rhaegar harshly kissed her breasts and pink tits as she tried hiding them from his wrath. He got blood out of her lately, more and more, he'd been hurting her since she failed to produce his third head. All she had were still births, a hated symbol practically, for everyone hated her. Everyone, including the small folk whom called her the whore queen, the adulterous bitch, and other non-too kindly words. The look in his eyes was furious, as he placed himself into her once more. He kept on drawing blood from her, and causes bruises to arise on her neck, whenever he sucked there too hard, which was often enough.
"I don't care, you infertile bitch." He raged, slapping her. Her eyes widened, as she felt the bruises growing on her cheek from him hitting her. One of his hands were keeping her from moving, as he went over her and entered her again, though it was so harsh... So harsh, it wasn't her fault, that she couldn't give him another child. She tried too. Her eyes filled with tears. She may as well have married Robert, given how awful Rhaegar was. She was so disillusioned, now two years later into their marriage, that she didn't know how he could fall for such a obsessed man. It was clear from day one all he wanted from her was one child, but now that Rhaenys his sweet girl, was dead he needed another to take her place. But she couldn't fulfil it. It was said he slept with other woman, in the desperate hope that one of them would give him a bastard to legitimize, but Lyanna didn't know if she could believe this rumour or not, given that it was Lord Varys whom gave her this tidbit on Rhaegar's short comings... "I only wanted you to produce my dragon heads, and the fact you can't even do that, despite being young, makes you an infertile waste of my time. I wonder why I even bothered to marry you, and not just kill Elia with another child. That would please more, more than you failing your duties as a fooking wife, woman." He sneered at her, and it made his beautiful face look so ugly.
"I'm sorry... Please, please stop hurting me." Her eyes were tearing up. She no doubt had a large bruise on her face.
He got off of her, but before looking at one her dresses. "Nobody cares about you anyhow. Your brother doesn't care about you, I don't care about you, nobody cares about you, Lady Stark." His response hurt her internally, as she sobbed besides herself at hearing her husband say such terrible, awful things about her, though true they may be.
"Your a horrible husband, Rhaegar Targaryen, and I regret marrying you, or falling for your tricks. All you are is a obsessed mad man, I see it now. I once told my brother love would never change a man's nature in regards to Robert, but I see now that lesson also applies to you!" She screamed at him. Though, she couldn't kill him - It would be impossible, and she'd be murdered for it. She didn't want Aemon knowing she murdered his father anyhow. That wouldn't do well on her conscientious, anyhow, to know that she murdered his father - she didn't want to go to her grave knowing her sweet boy would forever hate her for that. She wanted his love, more than anything, given that he was the last one to have any kind of sympathy or emotion towards herself.
He stared at her again. "All I wanted was someone to give me my three dragon heads. It's clear, that you cannot do that, because your physically incapable of doing so." He responded, before leaving her to her roost.
She sighed, sitting in her room, on her bed, with her skirt flipped upside down as she sat there, staring into space. This marriage, it had been a mistake of a naive child of fifteen, not by a grown woman, not like the grown woman she was now. If she had been good as a young girl, at least she could've convinced her father to marry her to a Northern Lord - maybe Jorah Mormont, the Lord of Bear Island. He was in need of heirs, and besides, she would've been a good wife to him. Not to any of the Southern Lords - but her father had southern ambitions for his children, and thus this is why Ned is currently married to that Tully woman, because of Brandon. She missed Brandon - his hot-tempered, bright spirit, he kind of reminded her of Robert, now that she thought of it. Is this why Ned convinced father to marry her off to Lord Robert, despite her protests? Did he think she wished to marry her own brother? She wondered this vaguely.
She hoped Rhaegar burned in all of the Hells for the sins of hurting her. Of being a mad man, of emotionally manipulating her. It was clear, he loved her nought, but she wasn't sure Ned would listen to her pleas, to please take her back into his graces. To please, forgive the errors of a child that didn't know any better. But alas.. Ned would never know, and she felt so very sad about that. She very much regretted everything she did with Rhaegar - now, she was just his broodmare, his property more or less. She wasn't free anymore, and it made her want to cry besides herself - she missed her freedom, that was now completely lost to her.
