The entirety of A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones is creation of George RR Martin and and D.B. and product of HBO. This story is a unique fictional derivative of the original work written by an ASOIAF/GOT enthusiast.
Rated: M
Rhaegar's Lost Song
Princes
Aerick was not one to fuss. He was not fickle or insistent. Yet he had been nothing but fussy, fickle and insistent the past week. He lacked the refinery of fashion that Aegon had. He would never tell a soul, not even Rhae, that Aegon planned and even sewn some his own robes. Aerick half considered asking Aegon to help him but that would lead to questions he didn't want to answer.
His father name day fell during the season of the Princies Turn. The annual gathering of the Seven Princeships and Minors and commoners and foreigners to foster amity throughout the realm. An occasion for pomp, tourneys, match-making and mirth. But more importantly, for the seven princes to reaffirm their loyalty to their king. It would be here that Prince Aerick would petition his uncle, Warden of the North, Prince of Winterfell, Eddard Stark to foster. And ever since he was granted leave, a slow panic began to rise in him.
At first he was just torn between whether to wear black or rose blue. Not grey, it presumed too much. Then he began to wonder whether he should present a gift? For his name day? Which had but passed. No. Name days are trifle things for men. Not but a reason to drink. A gift for his cousin then? Robert Stark. But he knew nothing of him. then for Sansa Stark? She was girl, girls like pretty things. It shouldn't be hard to find something pretty in King's Landing's Flower district. But practical, Northerners were practical above all. So Aerick had three of the finest silk cloaks made in black, grey and rose blue for the ladies of Winterfell. Then he felt that was pandering, and not what a man, especially a prince of the realm, does. And so the week past like this. He was able to dodge the keen eye of Rhae since she and Aegon had made a quick excursion to Dragonstone. But poor Canary had often left his chambers sullen as he sent her away to let himself think. He attended meetings with his father as he was usually did but they pulled further from the Keep and his preparation. And thankfully, he hadn't had any run-ins with his mother in law. He did run into his younger brother Jaered in the library one morning.
The west long room had become a second bed chamber for his brother. Aerick had gone there get the Book of Houses to make sure he didn't miss important names in the days to come. On his way out he spotted his golden hair bent over open books and scattered scrolls. He eased into to room quietly, curious as to what kept him occupied the past month. Jaered looked up.
"Ben Morrow, brother," said Aerik with a smile.
"To you as well, brother," said Jared, reclining with a smile, "How fares our Prince of King's Landing this morning?"
"I am a bit…confounded this morning," Aerick answered.
"And so rightfully, seek the wisdom of men wiser than us," Jaered said nodding at the tome in his hand.
"Yes," he said, "I want to be sure to be of no offense in the fort night to come."
"I suppose the Maester's exercises are not quite effective are they?" said Jaered.
"No, I'm just bad with names," Aerick said smiling. Jaered grined. He and Kaela could have been twins. He had the same veils of gold about his head, same green eyes.
"I suppose you have father's gift prepared?" Jaered asked.
"Yes," Aerick answered.
"…And?" Jaered asked.
"…I hope it will cause no offense," Aerick said.
"Well, now, I have to know what it is," Jaered said siting up.
"It's nothing," Aerick said.
"It's not nothing. Not from you," Jaered said.
"Well.." Aerick said stepping closer, "it's a song."
"A song?" Jaered echoed with a surprised look.
"Yes," he said.
"And you composed it?" Jaered pressed.
"Yes….and," Aerick said stepping closer, "I am going to sing it."
Silence. Then Jaered's chuckling.
"Forgive me, my Prince," he said between chuckles.
"I have been practicing," Aerick said with bite.
"I'm sure hehehe but no need to worry. Father will cherish anything you give him. You could give father bottled Winds of Eyrie and he'd wear it around his neck," Jaered said gathering up his scattered scrolls. Aerik decided to ignore his comment.
"What are you getting father?," Aerick asked.
Jaered stopped and looked at him. His mother's glittering guarded eyes suddenly peering out Jaered's face.
"I bought him something, of course," Jaered said returning his scrolls and books, "An utterly exquisite and rare old artefact foraged from the intrepid scavenges of old Valeryia. It was.." Jared said pausing, "..an extraordinary find."
And there it was. The wall between him and Jaered. Aerick bid his brother well for the rest of day and left with guilt washing him anew. And Jared quietly cursed as he burned his scrolls of music.
He poured over the book of houses, great and small, making sure he knew every detail of Starks, trying paint a portrait of them in his mind. Suddenly it was the third day of the Turn, the Starks hadn't arrived. He had been sweltering in black for four days in the wait. Today it would be the red robes instead. And rather post himself at the North Gate, he would roam a while before heading to the out banks of make-town. He dressed but didn't bother with the proper fastenings, ties and fittings. In fact he would wear his vest open since it was far too hot. He put on his new marching boots, grabbed his gloves and sword and made to leave. Much to his surprise, it was Prince Oberyn Martell who stood outside at the foot of his stair. He looked him over with a grin of approval.
"Prince Oberyn," Aerick said, clasping his arm and patting his back, "I figured surely your grace would be with the Crown Prince and Princess."
"I cannot seem to find the Crown Prince and Princess. I can only assume they do not wish to be found. So I came seeking the company of his grace, the Prince of King's Landing. Perhaps, your grace, knows where they might be?" said Oberyn.
"I am afraid your grace is correct, they do not wish to be found," he said smiling.
"Haha, they are honest Dornishmen," Oberyn said looking into to the distance, "well, I would love to accompany you, your grace, as long as we can dispense of formalities?"
"It would be my pleasure, Oberyn," said Aerick as they started off.
"How did you relieve Ser Barristan? He only follows the command of the King," asked Aerick.
"I may have sung a song about the King calling his guard and I promised to personally escort and guard you with my life," he said his black eyes glittering with mischief, "It's half true."
"Ser Barristan will not love you for it," said Aerick shaking his head.
"What does he love beyond duty?" Oberyn said flashing a roguish smile at group of young ladies passing by, "speaking of love. I understand that you still have not made an engagement."
Aerick straightened himself. "No."
"Truly? After 3 years in the Riverlands?" pressed Oberyn.
Aerick looked resolutely ahead.
"What's the matter couldn't find a girl as pretty as you?" Oberyn said grinning.
"The ladies of the Riverlands were quite appealing," Aerick said.
"Just not to your cock," Oberyn quipped, "then perhaps you are looking for a young lad?"
Aerick laughed.
"You can confide in me, Aerick," said Oberyn, "you are like my nephew as well. I know the prejudices of the rest of the realm. We don't have such things in Dorne."
"It's not that either," said Aerick.
"Forgive me, my Prince. I simply ask out of concern. The world should be like the soft thighs of a lover, especially for the most desirable bachelor in all the realm. You should roaming the country. Returning to the Keep at unholy hours. Tying your name to to scandalous affairs for the old lords and ladies to whisper in court."
"As being the Bastard Prince isn't scandalous enough?" said Aerick peering up at him.
They stopped.
"Especially because you're the Bastard Prince," said Oberyn with a measure of levity.
They continued.
"These curly fingered nobles scandalized you anyhow. If I were you, I'd make every lord, lady, maester and septan quiver at my very sight. I'd leave a little bastard in all their daughters, turn maids against their ladies, gild the septans and fuck their sons for good measure."
Aerick grinned and shook his head. Oberyn stopped him and looked at him.
"If you seek their approval, you'll never have it. You are a Prince. A Dragon Prince. The Prince of King's Landing. You don't need their approval, just their obedience. It took time for Aegon and Rhaenys to learn it as well. But I suppose your circumstances are different from theirs."
They walked into the main roads of the make-town in silence. They returned curtsy's and blushes with honorable nods. Oberyn couldn't resist the suggestive wiggle of his brows. After a time Aerick let himself get lost in the make-town. The roads were paved from years of use in each of the four directions to ease arrival of nobles from all over the Turn was held in the abandoned Hold of Dragons. The arena hosted the competitions and around it temporary tent houses, shops and forts were erected to house the nobility, the merchants and common while the royal family occupied the old chambers that once belonged the old dragon riders before them. It was nestled in hilly plains east of King's Landing where ground faded from short grass to the brown bare ground. The arena was old. It's former polished columns and walls had dulled and cracked, bursting with moss, weeds and leaves. There were no trees or forests for miles yet. Only the sky bright and blue above them and the ground beneath their feet and a beckoning breeze. The home of dragons.
"And what bold flower is this?" came Oberyn's fluttering bass through his reverie. Aerick looked up.
As they came upon a bridge on there was a small crowd gathered on the road west below them. They looked down at a gathering of children, noble and common alike, giggling like a nest hatchlings birds, around a young woman buying poppets and joust sticks and sweets for the lot of them.
"Must be Margery of House Tyrell," Aerick said stepping closer to the side of the bridge.
"You know her?" said Oberyn following.
"I know her reputation," Aerick said, "The Tyrells are quite generous. There is almost no poverty in Highgarden. And those that are poor yet want for nothing. All their needs are met through charity. It is said Margery Tyrell has a particularly kind heart. She sends goods to those in need as far as Old Town. She has the people in her heart and the heart of the people."
"Sounds like you know more than her reputation," said Oberyn grinning.
"I have never crossed paths with her, strangely enough. I would like to meet her. She sounds like a sweet soul," Aerick said.
"Yes," Oberyn hissed, leaning on the side, "As sweet as a hunter baiting his trap."
"And what will she do with the children? Form an army? Will they carry maypoles of flowers?," Aerick jested.
"You have it wrong, my young Prince. The children are the bait, you are the catch and she is the trap," Oberyn said pointing at the crowd.
Aerick looked down and there she stood. Too far to see clearly but standing erect, brown hair in the wind, the sun kissing the skin of her shoulders and back.
They kept on the North fences when a question finally flew from his lips.
"What do you know of my uncle?" Aerick said.
"Well, he is tall, devilish, wandering dark Prince from the South. A fierce and well travelled warrior and exceptional lover-" Oberyn began.
"Not you, Seven Hells," said Aerick.
"Well which one, if not me?" Oberyn said.
"The Prince of Winterfell, Eddard of House Stark," Aerick said.
"What could you possibly not know of your uncle that you want to know?" he said.
"I only know what I have read in books and histories," Aerick said, "I know his actions, not the man."
"A man is his actions," Oberyn said simply.
"And still I know nothing," Aerick said, "He began as traitorous rebel and ended as loyal Prince of the Realm. You have crossed paths with him. What kind of man is he?"
Oberyn peered down at him.
"I only crossed paths with the Prince of Winterfell thrice in my life," Oberyn said walking on, "The first time, I noticed how very different young Lord Eddard was from his brother, Brandon Stark. Brandon was very much the Wild Wolf of the pack. We sparred fiercely from time to time needing to prove if ice and pierce the sun. Haha. But Eddard was rather paled-haired and quiet. The Silent Wolf. I didn't read weakness in him but a kind of…reluctance. The next time we crossed paths he had befriended the bold stag, lord of his house, Robert Baratheon. There was feast in Dayne's halls and he was love-struck under a shooting star called Ashara Dayne. He was just as silent and reluctant so she had to ask him to dance. But he did wait on her the rest of week. Ever at her side. The last time I crossed paths with Eddard Stark was at you and your mother's coronation feast. There were many displeased faces at the feast but none looked so distinguishable as the face of the Queen's brother. I can tell you verily he was a different man, the dire wolf in the room. War changes men, and the rebellion stole that reluctance Eddard Stark once had. His silence had the piercing edge of spikes. His gaze was cold and unforgiving. He did not eat, or drink or speak. At least not to anyone but the Queen and the lady that asked him to dance. But there was something wrong in that dance with the Queen. As you know, Queen Lyanna Targary died that very night."
"Why does he hate father?" Aerick asked.
"For the same reasons I do," Oberyn said facing Aerick, "For what he did to my sister, to my family."
Aerick let the truth sink into him.
"I won't lie to you, my Prince. I smile, but there have been plenty a night of dreaming my spear through the King's chest for abandoning my sister to the whims of a madman… in the middle of a war ….and nearly killing his children."
Aerick looked away but Oberyn placed his hand on his shoulder, "This does not extend to you. You were babe. Or even your mother, she was younger than you when she crossed paths with the King. Your father was young at time but not so young to be so foolish."
They walked again in silence.
"I suppose the Prince of Winterfell has more reason than I despise the King. House Stark was nearly wiped out when the rebellion ceased. I would choke on the word brother as well. If meeting your uncle worries you, I tell you not worry," Oberyn said looking him in the eye, "He may hate you, for you do look very much like the King. But don't worry, he's always been a bore anyway."
Aerick laughed with Oberyn as they continued to the north gate.
"One thing I can tell you surely," Oberyn said looking over the hilly plains, "He named is eldest son after his best friend, Robert Baratheon."
Thank you for reading.
Uitori.
Author's Note: So keep myself writing I'm going to try to write the parts I really want to write and as holes and gaps appear go back and write those in since writing in order takes more time. So if things seem off or skipped just know that I probably skipped a part I was having a hard time formulating and will return to as needed. This may be a bad idea but I'm going to try it. So it's not necessarily chapter 2 but the next part published. Please leave your concrit below. Thank you.