The dancers swirled around the hall and Rhaegar smiled as he watched fabric from the ladies skirts swirl around their ankles as they were spun by the men they were dancing with. The feast was coming to an end-his King father had already departed, muttering something about 'pointless tradition' before disappearing around the corner towards his lavish chambers. Rhaegar was not interested in dancing himself, although if his wife Elia had been present he would of at least been expected to take her out for one or two rounds.
No, what Rhaegar was interested in was the girl, who not too much earlier had wept at his song and then dumped her wine atop her brother's head as he teased her for showing emotion. That girl was now dancing with a slight man and the both of them were laughing at how badly he moved her around the floor. The Prince took in the girl-she couldn't be older than sixteen, but she held her shoulders proud as if she were a man of twenty or more. Her brown hair was a chestnut wave that curled on the ends and instead of braiding it intricately like many other ladies of the Court, this wild girl let it flow freely down her back and around her shoulders.
Silently Rhaegar watched her, watched as her grey eyes filled with glee at another dance and watched as she threw her head back in laughter as her new partner stepped on her foot. She seemed so carefree-so willing to be in the moment and Rhaegar found it intoxicating.
"Who is that girl..." He asked aloud, not expecting an answer but jumping as the man beside him leaned in and spoke softly in his ear. It was one of the Whent sons, a short man of nineteen who had been trailing around after Rhaegar all day.
"That's Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, my Lord." The man said and Rhaegar smirked. A Northern girl-he shouldn't be shocked then at her wild abandon of tradition at Court.
"Lyanna Stark..." He said, rolling her name around on his tongue. It flowed out of his mouth as if it were a song and somehow Rhaegar knew that the name fit the girl perfectly.
"Yes my Lord. She has accompanied her Lord father and brother's here for the Tourney. Brandon Stark, her eldest brother, is competing in the coming days." Rhaegar smiled at this information but kept his eyes on the dancing girl. He grew dizzy watching her spin around and yet he couldn't take his eyes from her.
"I've heard of Brandon Stark-some say he is a great swordsmen and an even better jouster. I'll enjoy seeing him on the field tomorrow. But of Lyanna-she seems lively for a girl." Rhaegar mused, playing a verbal game of cat and mouse to get as much information out of the Whent boy as he could without seeming too interested.
"Lyanna is known in the North as the She-Wolf. She is wolf blooded and wild-not surprising she's betrothed to the loud mouthed Robert Baratheon. Rumor is that he was the only one willing to have her-no one is willing to try and tame the wild Northern Wolf that is Lyanna Stark." Rhaegar felt his heart grow sad at this-who would feel the need to tame such a brilliant and bright girl such as Lyanna?
"Yes, well it's nice to know about some of our Northern brothers and their families. Hard to keep up with them as they never seem to be interested in coming South to King's Landing..." Rhaegar said as he turned on his heel and faced away from the dancing group. The Whent boy only laughed, a high and shrill laugh that was laced with fakeness and flattery.
Rhaegar said nothing more as he kept his back to the dance floor and made his way off in to the deepest part of the castle towards his chambers. He knew that by now his wife, Elia and their daughter Rhaenys, had arrived and were more than likely already a bed. Walking down the long hall, Rhaegar got lost in the sounds of his boots clicking against the rough stone floor, while his mind was filled with nothing but the dancing girl.
Why was he so fascinated by her? She was nothing more than a lively Northern girl who seemed to love dancing and protecting strangers from men with a dull tourney sword. It had taken him some time, but as the Prince watched the girl dance, he realized why she seemed so familiar. It had not been but earlier that day from his chamber window that Rhaegar had become distracted by watching a girl fend off three knights in defense of a wounded man that had been outnumbered.
It all made sense now-the girl had been Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar knew from his reading that the Starks were many things and lived by many creeds and honor was among them. Lyanna had seen that man being attacked and Rhaegar knew it must of been in the very core of her being to stop and assist him. Rhaegar had always secretly admired the Starks and their Northern people. He had read about them and their ancestor Torrhen Stark-known now as the King Who Knelt-who had kneeled before his own ancestor Aegon during the great conquest. It was this that showed how the Starks truly were-more concerned with honor and doing the right thing than fighting until the very end.
Torrhen knew he would never defeat Aegon and his dragons and instead of putting his people in danger, he knelt and history was made from that.
Rhaegar sighed as he reached the heavy wooden door to his chamber and closed his eyes as he pushed it open and entered. Elia was already in their bed, but she was awake and sitting by candle light waiting for him to return. She looked sickly-her usual glowing skin was tinted with a sallow color and her deep brown eyes held the look of exhaustion in them. Elia was a beautiful woman and when they had been married she had been so full of life, but once she had become with child that life and her inner light had dimmed.
Birthing their daughter had weakened Elia and the Maesters were unsure if she would ever be able to carry another babe to full term. This had saddened Rhaegar-for many reasons-and it also concerned him greatly. He believed in a lot of things and something he held close to him was a prophecy spoken to him long ago. A prophecy about a prince that was promised and the dragon having three heads. It could mean a lot of things, but in Rhaegar's mind it meant that his children-specifically a son-would rule the world of Westeros like none had before him.
However with the health of his wife declining and being so poor, Rhaegar was unsure of the accuracy of the prophecy that he clung to so tightly.
"How was the feast?" Elia asked, sitting up slowly as he entered and closed the thick door behind him. Rhaegar said nothing at first as he made his way across the room, sat in a chair by the hearth and began to remove his boots.
"Very official. Father did not stay long of course and I watched as the dancing started and then made my way back here." He said, his deep indigo eyes not looking at his wife but instead they locked on to his sleeping daughter in her cradle near the fire. The small girl looked just like her mother-dark hair, olive skin and full lips that the Dornish usually had. She had his eyes however-a dark indigo that were soulful and filled with a longing to know everything.
"Did you not wish to dance with anyone? No pretty girls in attendance?" Elia teased him, smiling playfully as Rhaegar sat before her and looked up as he pulled his boot from his foot. They had a strange relationship-Dornish women were not afraid of having their husbands take another woman and to Rhaegar that thought was strange.
"Plenty of beautiful maids dancing around the Hall, I was just not in a mood to join them." Rhaegar said before pulling his shirt up and over his head. He was tired-it had been a long day filled with headache inducing talk that had gotten him nowhere.
"Something is troubling you." Elia said, her tone growing dark and concerned. Her brow was furrowed as she took Rhaegar in-his usually gentle features were strained and his pale skin was flushed as if he'd been running.
"Of course something is troubling me. The mind of my father twists more and more every day. I had hoped he would not venture out to this event, but he is here and I am worried of what he might say." Rhaegar stated as he pulled back the heavy covers on the bed and joined his wife beneath them.
"What does the council say?" Elia asked, moving so that she was turned on her side, looking at him as her dark hair cascaded down like a great curtain.
"They want to speak with Lannister first. I understand their worry-an uprising would be most unwise, but I see no other choice." Rhaegar said as he leaned up against the pillows and looked beside him. Elia was leaning on one arm and listening to him intensely.
"Are you ready to be King my love?" Elia asked him, reaching out a finger to trace a scar that marred the pale flesh of his arm.
"I am ready for my father to no longer speak of the insanity that plagues his mind. I have no real desire to become King-you know that." He stated and Elia only nodded.
While they were not much of a loving married couple-Elia and Rhaegar were the best of friends. Both had been pushed in to a marriage with another and while they had yet to find a true love in it, they had instead found a beautiful friendship where Rhaegar felt entirely comfortable telling his wife everything that he felt he needed to say. She never judged him-she merely would sit, listen and then give him her opinion. Rhaegar felt, however, that sometimes her opinion was polluted by her duty as a wife and was sometimes not a true form of what it could be.
He wanted someone true-someone who would look at him and call him a fool and not worry about the consequences. Rhaegar wanted someone unguarded-someone who was not plagued by the worry of what other's thought, would think or what they would say. Elia was his best friend, but after almost two years together, Rhaegar feared that that was all she would ever be and he needed something more.
"How does the joust fair for tomorrow?" Elia asked, changing the topic as quickly as possible. Rhaegar was a kind man, but he could grow serious and morose and Elia always did her best to keep their talks light hearted.
"It should be an interesting first day. There are many talented knights here and I will enjoy watching them all try and best one another." Rhaegar said and Elia only looked at him.
"I had thought that you would be among those knights in the coming week my dear Prince." Elia said as she placed a hand on his bare shoulder and rubbed the scarred skin. Rhaegar was very much a feared and respected knight-one that many wished to fight and take down to prove their worth.
"I'm mulling it over my Lady. How was your journey today? You look as if you've fallen ill." He said and even though her skin was a darker olive color than his own, Rhaegar could tell when his wife was blushing.
"It was a bit bumpy once we reached the King's Road. I'm sure my illness will pass soon enough." She said and reached up to place a small kiss on the side of his face.
"I only want to make sure you are taking good care of yourself. Not just for me but for our child." Rhaegar said and he couldn't help but notice the disappointment on his wife's face as she pulled back and looked at him.
"I assure you my Lord I will be just fine. Shall we sleep? I know there are many things that must be done in the morning before the Tourney is to begin." Elia said as she ran a thumb across his bottom lip and smiled softly at her husband. She wanted to end the discussion of her health before it turned in to a fight neither of them would win at this hour.
"You're right my love. Goodnight." Rhaegar said as he moved to place a soft kiss to his wife's lips and also placed one on her forehead for good measure. They shared a smile before Rhaegar leaned towards the table and blew out the candle that sat on top.
Rhaegar laid in the darkness, still and unwavering as he listened to Elia's breathing go from steady in a state of being awake, to serene and peaceful as she fell to sleep. Rhaegar himself could not sleep and by the light of the fire still burning in the hearth, he rose and moved to a chest near the door to grab for a deep red dressing robe. He slipped his strong arms through the sleeves and found himself walking towards the window.
Taking a seat on the ledge he had been occupying earlier in the day, Rhaegar glanced through the window and out through the trees. The sky swirled with grey plumes of smoke from the dying campfires and the moon, huge and full, hung low in the night sky. It was a wide world out there and Rhaegar could only imagine what it would be like to explore it. He had never been North to the Wall, although he remembered traveling to Winterfell as a very young child. He had never been West or really even South to Dorne-he had always been at either Dragonstone or in King's Landing.
Rhaegar longed for many things in his life and above all it was freedom that he could barely seem to grasp on to and hold in his strong and capable hands.
