The sun had begun its slow descent on the horizon. The sky had become painted in an array of pink and yellow and orange, bathing the surrounding landscape in a rosy golden glow. It was a beautiful sunset
Arthur looked to the figure silhouetted by the sun, standing at the top of the hill, still as stone. This spot had been chosen due to its unobstructed view of the valley below. The godswood spread out as far as the eye could see around the godseye, but from here, one had a clear view of the valley below; where the wood thinned to an open plain in areas and the rolling hills that led to the mountains of the Riverlands came into view. The great towers of Harrenhall loomed a handful of leagues behind them but that was of little consequence since that was not the direction they were interested in anyway. Yes, Arthur had to admit that from where they stood no one could approach without being seen. At least, not from the west, not from the River road. Oswell chose well.
A low rumble and a snort pulled Arthur's attention to the sleeping figure behind him. Oswell shifted slightly where he lay, adjusting himself under the cloak that was wrapped around him. Once settled, his breathing evened out and the low steady rumble started once more. The man could sleep anywhere.
They had arrived at Harrenhall a fortnight ago. And for a majority of that time the party had been quite busy. They had told Lord Walter that they had come to hunt, an opportunity for the prince to unwind after the stressful birth of his son. The lie left a bitter taste in Arthur's mouth.
He had listened patiently to his friend that fateful day. The he had sat at that massive table listening to the story that had unfolded. Rhaegar told them how he had sent a raven to the north and had received a response. He told them how the correspondence continued, leading him now to this point. He was resolved, that much Arthur could see. Rhaegar had every intention of continuing on, with or without them. And Arthur could not let him go alone of course, but that did not lessen the conflict within himself any less.
"And the princess?" Arthur had asked. "What of Elia."
Rhaegar looked at him but Arthur did not back down. Oswell's eyes flicked from Arthur to Rhaegar.
"Is she to be set aside?" he continued. "The question must be asked Rhaegar."
Rhaegar's gaze turned downward toward the figurine he tapped idly with fingers and gave a little nod. "Yes," he almost whispered, "honor would demand it." He looked back across the table at them. "No, Elia is not to be set aside. Nor my children. Aegon is the Prince Who Was Promised, the one who will lead us through the long night. His is a song of ice and fire. And while he is fire and blood, we must have ice as well. The dragon must have three heads." As the prince spoke, his gaze had turned increasingly inward and his voice so distant that Arthur was not certain that the last part was even meant for their ears. Oswell's eyes flicked once more between Arthur and Rhaegar before he sat back in his seat with a sigh.
"Oh well, that makes perfect sense," he said as he laced his finger behind his head, "I'm sure that will go over well in Dorne. Oh, don't give me that look Arthur. You are thinking the same thing. This is no small matter. We are stealing, or kidnapping depending on how this is spun, a northern lord's daughter. And for what? To fulfill a prophecy that most of the population, including myself doesn't even know? You mean to tell me her people are going to just accept this? The north may be a lot of things, but gullable is not one of them."
Arthur had given Oswell a withering look but did not protest. He was right. About all of it. Rhaegar for his part hat sat quietly as Oswell spoke. He had picked up the small figurine from the table and now spun it absently around in his hand, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
"I had stated earlier," he began, "that a promise was made during the time of Aegon III and House Stark, called the Pact of Ice and Fire. Jacaerys Velaryon had gone to the north to gain their support during the Dance of Dragons. In return, a Targaryen princess was promised to marry into the family of House Stark. It is a promise that, as of yet, has not been fulfilled. I seek to remedy that situation."
"I feel it is safe to assume that the princess Rhaenys has nothing to do with this remedy," Oswell commented dryly. Arthur cast him a withering look, but if Rhaeger was bothered he did not show it. He simply smiled and shook his head.
"You would be correct in that assumption," Rhaegar replied. "No, it will not be Rhaenys. It will be me. I intend to take Lyanna as my lawful wife, alongside Elia."
The looks on both men's faces must have been a sight for Rhaegar actually laughed. It sounded high pitched and giddy. Oswell gave Arthur a wary look. Rhaegar's laughter began to soften as he pinched the space between his eyes with his fingers.
"Calm yourselves, I haven't gone mad, not yet," he chuckled. His hand dropped back down onto his lap. "I have spoken with Elia and made her aware of my intentions. She is ...," Rhaegar paused for the briefest of moments, a look of sadness flashed in his eyes and was gone so quickly one would question it was ever there at all, "well … she knows. Elia is the future queen of the seven kingdoms and Aegon the heir to the Iron throne. That has not changed nor will it." Rhaegar stood up suddenly, still clutching the figure in his hand. "But I have no intention of dishonoring Lyanna as some mistress hidden in the shadows. I mean to marry her and our children shall be legitimate."
Oswell drummed his fingers on the table. "And the Stark girl –"
"Lyanna," Rhaegar interrupted, his voice stern. "The Lady Lyanna."
Oswell inclined his head respectfully, understanding the tone. "And lady Lyanna feels the same, even though she is promised to another and her actions will no doubt set her House in turmoil?"
"She does not wish to hurt her family or her betrothed. Once she is with me, she plans on sending ravens explaining her decision. Once her family realizes that we are wed and she is recognized by the crown, they will accept it. Especially since certain amenities will be made for the North with this union. House Baratheon will be compensated as well."
Oswell shook his head. "If this goes south, there will hell to pay."
"Then I will pay it and it will be worth the price." Rhaegar set the figurine down on the table and took in their faces. His gaze was unflinching and sincere, while his voice was tinged slightly with what Arthur could only discern as desperation. "I am aware of the risks. I know what is at stake. I love Lyanna. I know this, more than I have ever known anything in my life. We are resolved to be together. What I am asking of you, it is no small matter. I understand the weight of the burden I am laying upon your shoulders. It is not fair of me to compromise you with even the knowledge of this. Perhaps I am selfishly seeking your blessing, I cannot say. But if you choose to turn away, I understand and will love you none the less."
Oswell tapped his fingers on the table and looked at Arthur but Arthur did not look back. His attention was on the figurine that Rhaegar had set down on the table.
"Well," Oswell barked while simultaneously slapping his hand down on the table, abruptly breaking the silence, "right then. I suppose we should keep it to a small group. Discretion is key yes? I believe it is safe to say Lewyn's out. In fact, we should keep any other member of the kingsguard out. And Connington too. I don't care if you like him. He's a fucking nance and will get in the way. Especially if we are to go north. Are we to go to the North? Because if so, this just became significantly more difficult."
Arthur sat quietly and listened as Rhaegar laid out his plan. They would not go north, for the lady would already be traveling south to Riverrun in preparation for her brother's wedding to lord Tully's daughter. She planned on taking a sojourn towards Harrenhall in an effort to see the Godseye and Isle of Faces. It is there they will meet and then head south, perhaps towards Summerhall although Rhaegar was not certain. Arthur sat silent and still as details were worked out and decisions made. He sat and stared at the figure at the end of the table, near where Rhaegar now stood, separated from the other figures like it.
A lone wolf.
They had sat in that room for some time after Oswell had left, gone to find a maester to get a raven off to his brother at Harenhall. They sat in that great room with nothing but the soft crack of the fire to break the silence between them until Rhaegar spoke.
"I will do whatever it takes to be with her Arthur. I will give up everything to have her. You do not approve?"
"I never said that.
"You never said anything."
"Mmm," Arthur smiled and looked down at his hands. "I was just thinking I suppose."
"Oh? Of what."
"My sword." Rhaegar's eyes flicked over to where Dawn lay, its milk white blade still sheathed. "It is the legacy of my house, been there for thousands of years. Only those a knight deemed worthy may wield it, but then you know all that. Do you remember when it was given to me?" Arthur looked at Rhaegar, his mouth curving into a little sideways smile. "Do you remember when I was bestowed with the honor to carry it? How it did not feel that way to me. It had felt to me as if a great burden had been laid upon my shoulders. An honor that I was not, nor ever could be, truly deserving of. I believe I had told you as much yes?"
Rhaegar gave a little smile of his own at the memory. "You did," he nodded.
"Do you remember what you told me?"
"I do."
"You said," Arthur continued, "that it was because I did not want it that made me worthy. That I did not do things for favor or glory, or some vain desire to seem noble. That I could do what was necessary because it was right, even though I would gain nothing. That I understood the cost of honor and the sacrifice required."
Rhaegar's brow furrowed slightly. "I said all that?"
"Something like it," Arthur chuckled. He looked at Rhaegar, any hint of a smile now gone. "This thing you want … plan to do, this thing you want us to assist you with. This is no small task. Oswell was right when he said there will be hell to pay."
"Arthur I –"
"You are my brother. I have been and always will be, with you. Besides, is there any cause nobler than love?"
"And now it is I who is not worthy."
Another loud snort pulled Arthur from his thoughts and he looked over to see Oswell readjusting position once more before his breathing returned to a low steady rumble. Arthur shook his head.
He turned back to see Rhaegar still staring into the setting sun. She should have been here by now. Myles and Richard had been sent ahead to set up a small camp in a predesignated location, but at this rate when she finally arrives it will be well after dark when they get there.
If she arrives.
Arthur grimaced slightly. He should not think such things. He did not wish for any hurt to come to his friend. And Rhaegar would be hurt by this, deeply. And yet, Arthur could not help but think that perhaps it would be the best outcome.
He sighed softly and took a seat on the stump that Oswell snored against. He was not going anywhere until his friend did and Arthur knew that Rhaegar was not going anywhere.
~oOo~
Lyanna's hands were damp with sweat from beneath her gloves as she gripped the reigns. Her mount fought her for control. He wanted to run again. Small rivulets of sweat ran down the stallion's neck and his breath came out in heavy pants as he stomped his hooves impatiently.
The sun was high above her but there was not much time. She was already late.
Before her the land was changing from the cool misty hues of morning to the sharp bright colors of midday. The sun would soon begin its slow descent upon the horizon. Her shadow was already beginning to stretch out across the ground, as if pointing the way. The way to everything she wanted. The way to her freedom. The way to him. Behind her, the sun bore down on the horizon while its heat pressed at her back. Behind her lay the road back towards the only home she had ever known. To the family she loved. To the comfort of the familiar.
Lyanna relaxed her grip on the reigns and her mount leapt forward with barely a nudge.
~oOo~
It had started out as such a fine day.
The sun morning sun broke across the horizon and shown warmly down on the bustling caravan. Indeed, the weather had been accommodating for the entire journey as of yet. The land becoming lush and green, small smatterings of wildflowers became more numerous and the old gnarled oaks lining the king's road began to give way to the brightly colored blooms of dogwood and Brandywines the further south they went. Heavy cloaks were beginning to be discarded for lighter garments and an overall feeling of anticipation was coming over the group; the excitement one feels when about to reach their destination. Where past discretions are not prevalent and new ones can be easily discarded upon departure.
And when the destination was a celebration, a wedding no less. Well, energies were reaching a peak.
All the Houses of the North, great and minor, would be sending a man south in honor of the occasion and for the honor of their Lord Stark. But only a select few were given the honor to accompany this envoy. To accompany the Lady Lyanna to the Riverlands.
The major houses had sent their men for escort of course. Houses Glover, Hornwood, and Dustin all sent emissaries. Even House Flint of the Mountains would be in attendance, bringing with them the Wulls. Ryswell, Harclay, and Cassel were also given privilege. It was an impressive escort to be sure.
It was Airic's first time to make such a journey. He had come with the party from House Cassel and had jumped at the chance. He had been living on the edge of the mountains as a part of the guard who watched and protected the roads from wilding raids and the like. Well, he was not a part of the actual guard. He was more of an errant piss boy, dressing down the horses at the end of the day and digging privies. Not exactly the most notable of tasks, but he worked hard and even the lord Martyn had taken notice, mentioning that he needed another page. And a page ususally led to a squire. Which meant better housing, better food, and better privledges.
But that was still a distant dream and Airic had a long way to go to prove himself.
Upon joining the procession to Riverrun, Airic found himself fulfilling the same duties he did in the mountains. Dressing down horses and digging shit ditches. It was something he was not very happy about but any reason to leave the mountain clans was fine with Airic and so he made do. Besides, he had already been making eyes at one of the maids. She had a small waist and wiggle to her walk that caused her tits to jiggle in such a way that it made Airic's nethers itch.
Still, after several days of digging shit holes, Airic jumped at the chance for a change of pace. They had come to the last stretch of their journey. The company had taken the Kingsroad to the crossroads at Harrowtown, the lady had stayed the evening at the inn with a small group while the rest of the company camped just outside the town. Riverrun was only a day's journey from here. Or so they had thought. It would seem that the lady Stark had other plans.
She had decided that before arriving to Riverrun, she wished to make quick pilgrimage to the nearby Godseye. She did not wish to stay long, simply wanting to pay homage to the old gods that resided on the isle within. It would seem that she had decided that the rest of the party would continue the journey to Riverrun while she made her sojourn. She requested that a small escort accompany her. Squires were chosen and it was two squires that Airic had come upon arguing about who would accompany her.
"For fuck's sake, find someone Dale, just not me. Get someone else."
"There is no one else. You know what happened to Abel and Gerrick. They're still mucking the stables."
"Then why the fuck would you think that I would?"
"Because you are all that's left Edric."
"You can go to all seven bloody hells before I go. I done served my time on that watch."
"Why are you carping so much? It's a quick trip. We just follow her down there and then meet up with the main company on the way to Riverrun. We'll be back before nightfall."
Edric scoffed at this. "You know it's never that simple Dale. It's a sport for her."
"Well somebody's got to go!" Dale shouted exacerbated.
"I'll go."
The two squires turned and looked at Airic at the same time.
"Who the fuck are you?" the one called Dale demanded. "Wait, you're the shit digger. What the hell does a shit digger know about riding?"
"No wait," Edric spoke up, "he came with the guard from the mountains. You know how to ride boy?"
Airic fought the urge to scoff. They were barely older than him and yes he could ride. Well enough that Ser Martyn was considering taking him as a page and then possibly as a squire, if he could prove worthy.
"Yeah, I can ride."
The squires looked at each other. The one called Dale shook his head. "No …" he muttered.
Edric, however, did not seem to have such reservations. "What?Now just wait a second," Edric said as he grabbed the one called Dale by the arm and pulled him away from Airic. They stood with their heads together speaking in hushed whispers.
Airic did not care. All he could think about was how this could be his chance to impress upon Ser Martyn his worth. These squires were fools not to see the opportunity here. What was all the ruckus was about anyway? It was just a simple day trip to the godseye. It was morning yet, they could reach the isle and be back with the main caravan and at Riverrun before nightfall. Perhaps he could even stop in Harrentown while the lady paid her respects, buy a little trinket for the washer maid. Maybe she would even be joining them.
A head popped out of the huddle. "Oy, piss boy, what house you with?"
Airic gave them a withering look. "I serve for House Cassel and will soon serve for lord Martyn." It was probably a bit premature to say that last bit, but the piss boy comment had angered Airic. The three heads huddled together once more. Airic studied the three boys. They wore their House sigils on their tunics and surcoats. The one called Dale bore a yellow crest with two crossed long axes. While Edric bore a gold horses head on black and bronze.
After several more seconds passed by, the one called Dale finally broke away and approached. He looked down his nose at Airic.
"Have you ever really served a great house boy? This is no ordinary lady. This is the lord of Winterfells daughter we're talkin about. It's a great honor to a part of this escort."
Yeah? Then why aren't you going, Airic thought to himself. "Yeah, I know. Ser Martyn Cassel himself wants me to squire for him." Not exactly a lie ... it could happen.
"You see? He'll be fine. You can't stay out at those mountains and be pussy. It's an easy trip Dale. This close to King's Landing nothing's going to happen. There's guards all along the roads. He wants to go."
"Yeah," Airic agreed, "I want to go."
"There!" Edric proclaimed. "Go on, give the boy a chance."
Dale stood there silent for a second before he took a step towards Airic and stood over him. "Get your mount and meet me at the inn. Don't fall behind. If you do, I'm leaving you." He then turned and glared at Edric, "If he fucks up, it's on you." Dale whipped around and stalked off.
Airic had grabbed his mount and found Dale and two other guards that had been chosen, in front of the inn. None of them looked happy. After a moment lady Lyanna appeared on her mount and smiled sweetly at the four of them. Airic smiled back but when he turned to look at the other members of the group, he could not help but notice how they all seemed to look even more miserable. He could not understand why.
It did not take long for him to figure it out.
"Bloody fucking hell!" Dale spat as his horse danced about.
She had lost them rather quickly. As soon as they were at the edges of Harrowtown, her horse broke out into a trot and Airic overheard Dale mutter "Here we go" under his breath. After a moment she sped up to a canter, forcing the four men to push their mounts to keep up. Airic had almost closed the short distance behind her when the lady suddenly broke away to the right and tore into a full gallop, leaping over a small stream in the process. The sudden change in pace spooked some of the other horses and the men struggled to calm them. By the time they had regained control she led them on quite the chase. On the road, then off the road, then back to the road and then off once more cutting across the fields and through brush. The lady had set a good pace ahead of them and they spent the better part of the day playing this little game that she was winning easily.
It was rather embarrassing.
"Fuck!" Dale hissed again. "I'll be mucking stables the rest of my damned life!"
~oOo~
Rhaegar stood upon the hill watching as the shadows began to stretch along the ground, long black tendrils inching further and further past him. The sun was low, staining the land in pink and gold. It was getting late.
Although he said nothing he could feel Arthur's eyes upon him. Twice Arthur had come and stood beside him, saying nothing both times. Rhaegar never turned away. His eyes never left the horizon. He betrayed not a hint of the sea of emotions that churned relentlessly inside of him, till he was so tossed about by those squalls that he lost any sense of where the surface may be.
She would come.
There were moments atop that hill when Rhaegar felt as if his heart would pound out of his chest. What if she was unable to get away? What if she had changed her mind?
No.
She was coming.
Some movement on the horizon caught his attention and he squinted into the sun. She would be here. He believed with all of his heart she would be here. He had to. He would wait. He would wait all night if necessary.
The shadow appeared once more and Rhaegar found himself standing very still as he strained to see. Perhaps it was just some animal … perhaps … but it was moving fast. He watched as it rounded the top of the next hill and began its sprint down. Rhaegar let go a breath he did not even know he was holding. Without speaking a word, he spun around and after three swift strides, leapt upon his horse.
He had moved so quickly that Arthur had not even noticed till he was halfway down the hill slope. Arthur sprang up from where he sat, giving Oswell a sharp kick as he made for his own mount. Oswell gave a startled grunt and looked around confused for a moment before realizing that his friends were on their horses and spurring down the hill. Soon he too was racing behind them.
But Rhaegar never noticed. All of his attention was keenly focused on the figure that came galloping out of the sun. She was all he could see. Her hair whipped wildly behind her, adding to a beauty far more blinding than the sun. He could not reach her fast enough.
As they drew closer, Lyanna began to veer away from the Godseye and took a more southeasterly direction and Rhaegar guided his horse up alongside of hers. His heart beat at a pace that matched the thunder of the hooves beneath him. She rode hunched over her mount's neck, as if she were one with her horse. He looked at her face, flushed from the adrenaline, raw, wild and glorious. This is what it meant to live, to be willing to do anything in this moment right now. They were free.
He caught some motion from the corner of his eye and he reluctantly pulled his gaze away from her to see Arthur on the other side of him. He was shouting and gesturing at Lyanna's horse. Rhaegar looked back confused and then realized what had his friend so concerned. Her mount was covered in rivulets of sweat and was frothing severely at the bit. She had pushed it too hard. Had she run the entire way? She needed a new mount.
He called out her name but she did not react. It appeared to Rhaegar that she dug in deeper and pushed the stallion even harder. He called again but still no response. He had to do something or else she would run the beast into the ground.
Rhaegar signaled to Arthur who let up and maneuvered his horse to the other side of Lyanna's and signaled to Oswell to get in front of them. Once in position, the three of them were able to slow the horses down enough for Rhaegar to reach across and pull Lyanna over to his own mount. Rhaegar thought she would have put up some sort of a fight over his interference, but she came willingly and seemed to almost collapse against him before her arms wrapped around his waist. Rhaegar held her close to him. Upon seeing that Rhaegar had her secured, Oswell and Arthur moved to each side of him, leaving Lyanna's stallion to slow and drop behind them.
~oOo~
The four riders watched from the top of the hill. After what had seemed like an eternity of bickering about who lost who and who held who up the most, it had been Airic who suggested that they simply head for the godseye. They knew that was where she had planned to go in the first place, so it was more than likely that she would be there. They were not going to catch her anyway. A few more rounds of blame were passed around but at least they were moving again.
They went back to the main road and began to press hard. Airic did not believe they would get there before her but perhaps they could get there before she left. The last thing he needed was for it to get back to ser Martyn that he put the lady Lyanna in danger. This was not how he saw this day coming to an end. Airic had hoped that it could still be salvaged though. And for a moment it was. They had managed to catch sight of the lady again. They had come from the road when they found her again, riding hell bent for leather towards the godseye. The entire party began to feel hopeful.
That hope was fleeting.
They had just begun their own sprint towards the godseye when, not ten leagues from Harrenhall, a group of men fell upon the lady and plucked her off her horse and rode off and away. The four men had spurred their mounts hard but after a day of chase with the lady, they could not close the distance with the men and their fresh mounts. They could only watch them ride further and further away. They finally stopped at the top of the hill in defeat.
"That was ser Arthur Dayne."
Airic, along with the other two men turned and looked at the one who spoke. He was a young knight from Barrowtown. From House Dustin going from the great gold horse head on his shield.
"What the hell are you talking about," Dale panted, still reeling in shock.
"Ser Arthur Dayne," the Barrowtown knight repeated, "I seen him before. The tourney at Storm End, he broke twelve lances against …" the knight looked back out where they had last seen the lady, "… against the prince."
A silence came over the four men. The prince. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. With is black as midnight stallion and ghost white hair. The four men looked at each other.
"Fuck me," muttered Dale.
Airic agreed.