"I do not like this," Arthur said in a calm voice that nonetheless made it rather clear that he was not at all pleased. "That you would work so hard to protect her, only to throw her in harm's way with such alacrity does not make sense."

Rhaegar gave his companion a long stare. "Do you doubt your skills?" he questioned lifting the sword high in order to see it glint menacingly in the sunlight. The sword proving satisfactory, he placed it away with a sharp move. "Or do you doubt me?" On the one hand, Arthur's hesitancy was understandable. It certainly looked like Rhaegar was placing Lyanna in a position of little certitude denying her proper protection.

But in adopting such a view, his friend conveniently forgot about the fact that Rhaegar could not simply do as he wished. Insulting Lord Lannister was only safe as long as the man thought he had something to gain by enduring it. And that meant that Lyanna too was needed to collaborate in that, although she knew it not off yet. All the same, Rhaegar did not plan to satisfy the Lord Hand's demand. Yet he would not cut off the branch from underneath his own feet.

"You know better," he spoke again, as Arthur offered no reply. "You know me. Would I put her in danger if I was no absolutely certain that I could protect her properly?" The two young men looked each other in the eyes. A silent communication commenced between them.

The means by which they managed to make themselves understood were forever to remain unknown And yet it seemed that with one glance, Arthur Dayne was willing to push his misgivings away enough to hear his friend's plan. "I will not let all my good work go to waste," he stated stoically, sitting down as well. "What have you in mind?"

"It is fairly simple," Rhaegar began. The cyvase board rested innocently upon the table, all pieces arranged neatly in their squares. He picked up the onyx king and held it out towards Arthur. Arthur did not hesitate to take it from his friend's hand. "You know Tywin Lannister's power at court have been ever increasing since his appointment as Lord Hand. And I am sure you are aware of his plans. After a general fashion, of course."

"It is not so very different from other plans," Arthur countered. He closed his fist around the dark piece and looked towards the board. Rhaegar smiled, knowing that he had made himself understood. "But that would be a tremendous effort. The Iron Bank." The rest went unsaid.

Much aware of the inherent danger of such a scheme, Rhaegar could but nod in acknowledgement. "That is my concern also. As it stands, the Lannisters are valuable. We would need to gain some leverage before calling them out on their trespasses." Which was no easy thing to manage. Tywin Lannister was not the sort of men people spoke about in anything but reverence and astonishment.

Only jokingly had he heard it said that he was ruled by his wife. But, of course, that was servant talk. No doubt the man had loved his lady wife – who had recently died, if Rhaegar was not mistaken – but that did not mean he had been in any way ruled by her. Nay, he was much too cunning for that, rather like an old fox.

"But that still leaves Lyanna in danger. Cersei is her father's daughter," Arthur pointed out. "Can't you read as much in her eyes?"

"She might be," the Prince half agreed. "But that does not mean we cannot eventually make good use of her." Cersei Lannister was just a girl, barely older than Lyanna and certain to be easily influenced if she could be kept away from her father's sphere. It was no difficult task, to be sure. It couldn't be.

"Say that we do manage it," his friend returned, leaning back in his seat, and allowing the king to drop on the board. The piece fell over and knocked down one of the elephants too. "The same have occurred to Tywin Lannister. If Cersei can be influence, so can Lyanna."

"It won't come to that." Tywin did not suppose Lyanna to have much meaning to anyone but the Queen. That was Lyanna's advantage over the lion's daughter. "Besides, Lyanna shall be closely watched. Arthur, in this game we play, who do you think is ruler?"

With those words, Rhaegar pulled out a small sculpture and placed it on the cyvasse board. There was no white king in sight, but instead, an ivory representation of a woman had been placed down. The delicately crafted queen stood next to a much bigger dragon. "One day, I will tell you what this is about," he laughed at the confusion on his friend's face. "But until the time comes, I need someone trustworthy to protect Lyanna. Arthur, I cannot do this on my own."

"You will always have a friend in me," came the natural and, at the same time, expected answer. "You needn't explain before you wish to, but I hope that someday is someday soon. Else I'll perish from curiosity and your Lyanna will be left to fend for herself."

On that teasing note, Rhaegar took the small queen back. He looked at the figurine and sighed softly. "I wish it were not so complicated. I truly do."

"Life. my friend," Arthur sagely delivered, "is only as difficult as one makes it." He stood up from his seat and gave the Prince a small grin.

"You say that because the burden of responsibility is not yet upon your shoulders. I did not have the blessed circumstance of being a second son." Climbing to his own feet, Rhaegar watched Arthur shake his head. "I would trade places with you in a heartbeat if it were possible."

"Do you mean you would actually be willing to give Lyanna to me?" There was no seriousness in the question, but still Rhaegar could not help being mildly annoyed. Arthur laughed. "Seven kingdoms and a marvellous girl. You know, I've heard worse bargains."

"I would not give you Lyanna, Arthur, even if the Father himself demanded it." The statement was met with a knowing look from Arthur and a rather infectious smile. "Besides, she wouldn't want to go with you."

"Should we ask her?"

Daeron was rather like the plague. Rhaegar gave his younger brother a less than gentle look and bent down to help Lyanna to her feet. "What in the name of the Seven have the two of you been doing?" Lyanna's dress had been all splattered with mud – though where they'd found mud, Rhaegar couldn't fathom, as it had not rained for some time.

His brother mere scowled up at him and clutched Lyanna's arm as soon as she was back on her feet. Lyanna, however, was apt and willing to offer an intelligible answer to the posed question. "His Grace wanted to see the horses and I offered to accompany him." That explained the mud and the disarrayed state of both of them.

Still, there remained one glaring irregularity which Rhaegar could not ignore. "And where, if I may ask, are your companions?" As befitting their elevated station, both of them should have had at least one person watching them. It was rather disconcerting that it was just the two of them, wandering about. "Lyanna," Rhaegar prompted as gently as he could manage.

"It is not at all dangerous, Rhaegar. I know this place like the back of my hand," she answered, not at all concerned. That was her way and it was understandable, as no one had ever tried to cause her harm. But to his mind – older and, he believed, wiser – the easiness with which she dismissed the danger was worrisome.

Her other arms came to rest around Daeron. She was protecting him as she was wont to do. A strange sort of relationship had bloomed between his younger siblings and Lyanna. But by far the strongest bond had been established between her and Daeron. "We did want to wait for you," she offered as consolation, "but then we heard something about a new lady coming to court and Daeron wouldn't sit still after."

"I already said I've seen her," Daeron groused, "and I don't like her."

"You see?" Lyanna said. "I did try to stop him, but how does one go about containing a storm. I thought it would be better to join him."

Rhaegar did not know if she should be relieved or deeply angered. It was all very well that she had wished to help, but not at the risk of her own life. "Lyanna, Daeron, let us move along." Before his temper got the best of him. "Who is this lady Daeron wished to avoid?"

"I believe she is to be my new companion. Cersei Lannister," the girl spoke, her hand coming to rest on his own. Rhaegar wrapped his fingers around her slight hand and looked at his brother, wondering if he should let him claim his other hand. Daeron, however, seemed pleased to remain at Lyanna's other side and hold her hand. "Have you ever met her?"

"Cersei Lannister?" Rhaegar looked down at Lyanna. She was facing forward, keeping her steps short and swift. "I have never met her. Her mother, however, used to be the Queen's lady-in-waiting when I was a child."

"Do you know her?" Lyanna pressed. "What sort of woman is she?"

"Her name was Joanna and I do believe she was a good woman. Cersei's mother is no longer alive, however." The explanation made Lyanna stop. Rhaegar, feeling that, stopped as well. "What is is, Lyanna?"

"If her mother is dead, then she is just like me," she considered, ignoring Daeron who was protesting behind her. "I do believe you were wrong, Daeron. I daresay you did not see it well. Or perhaps it was not Cersei Lannister that you saw."

"Nay!" his brother cried out. "I know what I saw. It was her."

Confused, but not unwilling to look for answers, Rhaegar shushed both if the before they brought the whole Kingsguard down upon them – or even worse, the King himself. "Enough of this, you two. Daeron, what do you think you saw?"

"I did see," Daeron insisted. "And I know it was her because the other boy, the one who looks exactly like her, called out her name."

"What did she do?" Rhaegar asked once more. Speaking to Daeron was often a frustrating endeavour. He would only answer when he wished to and then with only half the answer sought out. There was something of their father's obstinacy in the boy and it was not yet properly tempered despite the attention lavished upon him. Regardless, he was determined to find out.

His brother's mouth thinned in a mutinous line. It was Lyanna's intervention that led to Daeron answering. "If you want to convince us, you have to tell us what you saw," she nudged the boy gently. "What did Cersei do that you did not like?"

The boy mumbled something and for a few moments it seemed that he would not answer. But, in the end, he lifted his head and pouted. "She kicked Sixpence," he complained.

Sixpence, Rhaegar had found shortly after returning, was a three legged dog. At some point he'd been one of father's hounds, but some wild beast had savaged the dog's leg and it remained with only three. Daeron and Lyanna would often go out in search for it and bring food. It was very much like Lyanna to do so.

The discovery that a child could be cruel was not something very new to Rhaegar. It was often the young people, through not thinking about the consequences of their actions, that brought suffering upon others less fortunate than them. "Perhaps she was frightened by the dog," Rhaegar offered. His father's hounds were not particularly friendly and they painted a fearsome picture. It was not out of the realm of belief that a young girl would lose her composure before such an animal, though even Rhaegar found it strange that she would have kicked at it.

"She wasn't." The reply produced a sigh form Lyanna. Daeron clutched at her hand. "You have to believe me. She wasn't frightened."

"We do believe you," Rhaegar assured his brother. "But still, I say we do not cast judgement with such ease. After all, if you dislike Lady Cersei, we can always have her replaced with someone else."

"I quite agree," Lyanna said. "We shall see what comes of it."

And that was that for the moment. Rhaegar thanked the gods and began leading both Lyanna and Daeron away.

Despite the cruel treatment he had endured, Sixpence was quite happily curled up beside the fire in the Queen's room when Rhaegar entered. The dog raised its head lazily and watched him walk in with a strong lack of interest. His mother turned to gaze at him and then she turned to the dog. "Sixpence, show more enthusiasm, won't you?"

"I think he is showing as much enthusiasm as he should," Rhaegar countered with good-humour. "By the by, since when has he been residing here?"

"Ever since Lyanna brought him up from the kitchens. Now, don't ask me how she knew this was Sixpence, for I don't wish to think upon it. Suffice to say that if she could the girl would fill up the keep with injured beasts." Rhaella laughed softly. "But I daresay this is not the reason for which you've come to me." She patted Sixpence on the head and drew nearer to him.

Rhaegar nodded his head. "I have been thinking, mother. I believe we should write to Princess of Dorne. It would be cruel of us to allow them to worry needlessly." He sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs and called Sixpence to him.

The three legged creature hopped towards him and put his hap on Rhaegar's knee. The dog looked at him with round dark eyes and whined softly. "Who named him?" Rhaegar asked out of the blue, brushing his hand against the smooth, short coat of light hair.

"Aegon actually," Rhaella answered a moment later. She brought over a cup and handed it to him. That sounded about right. Rhaegar nodded his head. His father had never named any of his hounds to the best of Rhaegar's knowledge. "He mumbled the word and it took us quite some time to understand what he was saying."

All the mumbling, Rhaegar thought, came from their father. The King had the unfortunate habit of mumbling when he spoke but did not actually mean to give an answer to the question posed to him. His younger brothers had embraced the habit and used it even when it was no needed. Rhaegar did hope they might be cured of that.

"Let us hope the next pet he names will be able to hear it clearly from his mouth," the Prince commented and took a drink from his cup. The wine tasted sweet on his tongue and it flowed smoothly down his throat.

"Now, about those letters," his mother continued, sitting down too. "Aerys should not like it if we were to do that. Your father has his own plans where House Martell is concerned." And he did not take well to being thwarted. Rhaegar did understand. But he was not about to give up. Rhaella, seeing the determination on his face gave him a dry look. "We cannot go against the King's word."

"We won't. But we still need someone there though." Rhaegar glanced at Sixpence. The hound nuzzled against his leg, gave his hand a quick lick and the curled at his feet. "Is there no one trustworthy? Someone who could possibly help?"

"I shall try to find someone, my son. But I make no promises." She smiled at him. "This is an ugly matter to be sure. I truly thought she was my friend."

"It is no fault of your, mother. It cannot be helped that some people desire power over anything else in the world." His explanation was met with a small nod from his mother, but her face still retained a pensive and somewhat thoughtful expression. Rhaegar put his cup down and held his hand out towards his mother.

Rhaella gave him her hand. "It is so very saddening to find one's self unable to trust those who were once close friends. Sometimes I wonder if there was ever a Queen to live as in one of those songs. I truly envy them. So happy and content. While I have nothing but trouble." The Queen spoke in an amused tone, rather like the whole matter was a particularly amusing joke, but Rhaegar was aware of the actual fatigue that hid behind the words.

It had been a lesson long taught to them that crowned heads were not allowed a moment's peace. Rhaegar could not give her any words of comfort as he was one of the many reasons for which his mother had been put in a state of unease. Yet he had a duty, not only to his house, but to the realm and its people, and he had to press on.

"Which song did you have in mind?" he questioned.

She looked at him and pursed her lips. "This is so very strange. I have forgotten." She shook her head. "I do believe we should conclude here, Rhaegar. I truly am tired."

"Then I shall leave you to your rest, mother." Rhaegar allowed her to kiss his cheek affectionately and patted his hand gently. He stepped over the god who did not even bother to raise his head again. Rhaegar left the room with quiet steps.

He walked into the hallway. On the walls the torches flickered, the warm light spreading all about the hall. It was fairly quiet. But the silence did not bother him. Rhaegar walked down the hall towards his own chamber, his fingers reached out to touch the red tinted bricks. There was a feeling of comfort about the space.

He reached the door of his bedchamber. He entered swiftly, without a sound. In the comfort of his own bedchamber, Rhaegar sat at the small table near the window, but not before he lit some candles and filled the chamber with light.

Outside the moon shone, its silvery light bathing the scenery outside and inside a warmer light, coming from the burning flames, flowed freely. Rhaegar breathed in deeply. He looked outside for a short moment. And then his mind was made up. He knew what it was that he had to do. And he would do it.