Outside the tent a scuffle had broken out between a few men. Rhaegar did not particularly care for it, nor was he inclined to leave the Queen on her own and put an end to the noise. Yet he could not help feeling that it was so very different from the glorious endeavours the bard sang about.

In no song, to his knowledge, were the soldiers portrayed as drinking until their wits had left them and then maiming one another over matters of no value. Rhaegar had thought that the pride of a soldier was a great thing. He'd known they were, most of them, simple men. Yet even so, was it possible to act like they did?

The disillusionment came swiftly upon the heels of making camp before the Dun Fort. Those within the keep were protected, more or less, against attacks from outsiders, yet the settlements around the fort, those that were not surrounded by high walls, were left were left at the mercy of the soldiers. Which mercy, if truth be told, and Rhaegar had little problem in discerning and telling it, was not at all something that painted a good image of the King's army.

The soldiers had barely waited before jumping upon the villagers, demanding food from the inns and bed-warmers from the brothels. Rhaegar ad the suspicion that even some women who were not desirous of offering their services had been brought within camp. Of course, warning against any such behaviour had been given. Yet who could check upon all those men?

With a sigh, the Prince looked towards his mother. The Queen had not been sleeping well, and it was apparent in her face. She worried, he knew, about the King and about the realm and about the children she had left in King's Landing.

"What if we cannot save him?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "How will I explain his absence to the children?" She referred to his brother and Lyanna collectively as the children. Rhaegar had ceased to be included in that group upon reaching adulthood, though his mother did sometimes call him a child, to which he vehemently protested.

"Do not carry on so," he replied, wrapping an arm around her. "We will save him and everything shall be as it was."

And yet the distinct possibility of his father lying dead somewhere in Lord Darklyn's dungeons was as real as the image of his mother weeping before him. The worst was that nothing could be done about it. Not in the current conditions and not ever if they did not manage to somehow reach the King.

Though the army had surrounded Lord Darklyn's home, cutting him off from supply sources, the man had refused to declare himself defeated, preferring to remain behind the walls of his fortress. And he could do so because the king was his captive. Lord Darklyn swore that if the Prince and his army dared attack, he would send them the King's head on a platter. And so the whole united force of Rhaegar Targaryen and Tywin Lannister was made to sit outside the walls.

The men were growing restless. Idleness did not suit their taste. They'd come for battle and since battle did not look like it would come soon, they had turned their attention upon other matters, such as consorting with camp followers, drinking, fighting and thieving. Something had to be done. And soon. They were, all of them, losing their patience fast. Rhaegar released his mother from the hold and helped her into one of the chairs. He

"If we were to meet Lord Darklyn's demands," he tried once more to solve the issue with the help of diplomacy, "perhaps we could get the King to safety."

"Oh, my son, how naïve you are," the Queen answered him. "If we allow Lord Darklyn what he had asked for, he will only ask for more and more, using Aerys over and over again for his vile schemes and when he no longer needs anything he shall just go on for amusement. You know not much of human cruelty."

"There must be something we can do," he insisted. "Else we shall stay here as father perishes in that man's clutches."

The Queen worried her hands anxiously, rubbing them together, then clutching the folds f her heavy back dress. "I do not know, Rhaegar. I do not know. If I knew, you may be assured that I would be the first to suggest it." She continued to fret, unable to put her worries aside even for a few short moments.

Rhaegar knew it would do not good to insist upon something which she could not possibly give him in the current state she was in. "I shall go outside for a few moments, mother," he told her, "pay wait for my return and after we will speak t the Lord Hand."

"If only I were a ghost, to pass through stone and wood alike," the woman spoke quietly for herself, seemingly having forgotten about his presence. Rhaegar turned to gaze upon her but the Queen was shaking her head, urging him on. "Go, Rhaegar. Go and see to what you must and then come back. And we shall speak to Lord Tywin."

Nodding, he stepped outside and looked up at the clouded sky. There had been no rain, yet the sun refused to shine. Was it an omen? A message from the god? But that was foolish. Rhaegar shrugged and looked around. The soldiers had returned to their tents, some men had started drinking, a few were eagerly watching a game of chyvasse between two young lordlings and others were sharpening their swords.

It could not be denied that the atmosphere in camp was tense. The Prince merely hoped the coiled spring would not snap before the battle, for he was certain there would be some sort of altercation. He walked forward, nodding at those lords who offered their greetings, and searched for Ser Oswell Whent. The man should have returned by now.

And indeed the Kingsguard had returned, dragging behind him a tall young woman with messy hair. Rhaegar watched them approach and tried not to be too surprised. After all, it was not something out of the ordinary.

"Your Grace, the King spent the night in the inn of this girl's parents," Ser Oswell reported, bringing the woman to stand next to him.

Tywin Lannister levelled a hard glare at the man standing to his right. Rhaegar was surprised the poor fellow didn't burst in flames on spot. The Seven knew he certainly looked red enough that people might think him on fire. But the unkind thought was swept away soon enough. The Prince leaned over the map the Lord Hand had brought and peered down at it.

Had they been able to siege the keep properly they might have tried taken down the walls. Yet fear of causing injury to the King stayed even the bravest of men from trying anything. The Prince thought upon his mother's words. A ghost would have been, indeed, a blessing.

All around him the men had begun a heated discussion upon which methods would serve them better. None were quite sure what to do and not one of them dared suggest that they charge at the gates of the fort anyway. The King had an heir and had he been a man hated by his people they might have left him to rot in the dungeons and crowned the son. Yet Aerys well loved.

"I say we give the man his right and whatnot. If it allows us to get the King out of that hole safely," someone suggested brazenly, as if the solution had only then just occurred to him. "He does not ask for so much, after all."

That failed to impress the fellow lords gathered there. "You are a fool if you think that," another man answered. "Besides, who is this Lord Darklyn that the king himself would bend knee to him and give him whatever his heart desired?"

The distaste in his voice fuelled a few more of his comrades who hurried to agree. "We should crush him the moment he makes out the gates," a third voice joined in. "That would show him." His fellow countrymen cheered him on. "And then let us dismantle every brick that makes up this keep. Let all remember the power of the King."

As far as speeches went they were all admirable, Rhaegar would not deny that. Yet there was something which not one of the speakers had considered. And that was the impracticality and downright impossibility of their plans. Thankfully, the lord Hand was quick to assure each and ever one of them of their stupidity.

"You fools. Do so and we shall bury the King among the rubble." There was no great love lost between his father and Tywin Lannister, but the Lord Hand depended upon the goodwill of the King and mayhap thought that saving his life could ensure that tie with the Targaryen House which he so desired. "If you cannot be of use, then you had best keep quiet and let those wiser than you run their mouths."

No one offered another plan and from the looks of it they had a hard time thinking about one. They were not to be blamed, though. Rhaegar watched the face of every man present and wondered, not for the first time, whether with such men the realm would survive should his father find his end. But such thoughts did not do him well, so the young Prince chased them away.

A heavy silence fell upon them all, a bitter, biting, clawing thing that rang out like a remonstration. It cried out for satisfaction, but received no answer whatsoever.

To the shock of everyone present one of the Kingsguards stepped forward, his heavily armoured body looking even bulkier in the low light, Rhaegar looked at Ser Barristan Selmy and waited, not without a hint of impatience, to learn the meaning of his gesture. The answer was quick to come.

"Your Grace, my lords," the man began, clearing his throat lightly, "I should like to propose a way of saving the King myself, if I may." Ser Barristan was despite his worth as a knight still somewhat shy of expressing his opinions even when asked directly for them. It was interesting that he would volunteer a plan of his own.

At a nod if lord Tywin's head, the man began. "The most important thing would be to get in undetected. There are few those to whom no one would look twice at, and to mind comes the beggar." Confusion on the faces of some lords made him smile. "I should like to be given this honour, Your Grace," he spoke directly to Rhaegar. "Allow me to dress up as the earlier mentioned character and rescue His Majesty."

The whole tent lapsed into silence. Rhaegar considered the words of the man. A beggar, a ghost. Indeed, he would be as close to a ghost as humanly possible. Standing up from his seat, Rhaegar spoke out. "Ser Barristan, the plan of yours is a sound one and I should not dream of refusing you the glory of it." The Kingsguard looked pleased. "And I myself will join you."

Gasps from all around rang in the Prince's ears. "Your Grace, that is not possible," Tywin Lannister tried to dissuade him. "It is too dangerous a thing to be attempted. Let Ser Barristan go on his own."

But Rhaegar shook his head, not at all impressed by that argument. "Ser Barristan, I doubt neither your skill, nor your devotion to the King. I come with you to aid in the rescue." The explanation was as much for the benefit of those within hearing as for the knight's ears. "Think not that I haven't trust in you."

"Your Grace honours me," Barristan Selmy answered, no doubt understanding very well that the Prince would not change his mind on the matter. As for the others, they would simply have to accept the decision for what it was.

"Tell us more of this plan," one lord asked.

"It is no complicated matter," came the answer. "First we shall disguise ourselves as the poorest of people. Then we should scale the walls. Once inside, finding the dungeon is easily accomplished. There we shall free the King and return with him outside."

"If possible, leave the gates open," the Lord Hand added.

But Rhaegar much doubted they would be able to do so. Lord Darklyn had quite a number of men within those walls. He did not, however, say anything to that. Instead, he ordered that appropriate garb be found and that maesters be ready to serve the King upon their return.

"Let us not waste anymore time then," the Prince said. "Come, my good ser." And Selmy followed, the armour clinking gently as he went. Once outside, Rhaegar asked, "What is our chance?"

Perhaps unable to lie, Barristan Selmy coughed uncomfortably. "Slim, Your Grace. Very slim."

"I see." And he did. But Rhaegar would not allow that to stop him.

The rough material scratched unpleasantly against his skin. But it covered him from head to toe, effectively hiding in a shadow any distinctive feature that might hinder him in the attempt of rescuing his father. Rhaegar tried not to think too much upon what would happen if they failed. Yet even if it came to that, he had brothers to carry on the legacy of their house.

What worried him, however, was the situation Lyanna would find herself in, should they meet with resounding failure. She had been promised so much, and not only by him. Who would protect her if he and the King were no longer? The Queen was powerful in her own right, but she would need allies to keep Daeron on the throne. And Lord Stark was not a proper ally. So Lyanna would not be a likely choice in such circumstances.

"Your Grace," the Kingsguard whispered harshly, handing him a piece of rope. "It is time to climb."

They had made it to the walls of the keep without any problem. No one had looked their way even once. Encouraging as that was, the true test was just ahead on them. Rhaegar nodded his head, took the rope and together they started the arduous climb.

It took some time and quite a bit of searching through the thick darkness, but somehow both of them made it unscathed to the top. There, Ser Barristan jumped upon the guard on duty and snapped the man's neck with such swiftness that he had probably not understood what had happened. They dragged the body into the shadows and hurried down the stairs, hiding their faces with the help of their hoods.

The two of them made their way through the darkness. The Dun Fort was not extremely large. That meant they would not have a very hard time of finding the dungeons. Rhaegar looked around, ruefully committing to memory everything that he could in such a short time. They snuck unobserved through darkened halls. No one paid much mind to beggars, of course; Ser Barristan had been perfectly right about that.

A guard passed them, coming up a flight of stairs. He was yelling something back to a man that had presumably remained down there to do his duty. "And give him some water. The Lord will have our heads if he dies."

"He's dead anyway," the other replied.

Rhaegar resisted the urge to lay the man where he stood, for in his mind he did not doubt they spoke about his father. But, along with his companion, he waited for the man to disappear down the hall before taking the way of the stairs. The guard at the foot of the steps made to shoo them away but Rhaegar, agile as a cat, knocked the man's head into the wall with such strength that he was laid flat a moment later.

That done, they took the keys off of him and opened the door. It led into a narrow corridor where many other doors presumably led into cells. An unpleasant smell attached his nose and Rhaegar held his breath for a few moments in hopes that the dizziness it produced would disappear.

With no choice but to check the cells one by one, they opened the first. It was empty. The second one too. The third one had a man in it but he had been dead for quite some time and was in the process of decomposing. They locked the door back and moved to the fourth cell. Luck was on their side for inside was indeed the King himself. He had taken cover in a corner and was pressing one hand against what looked to be an injured arm.

Rhaegar bolted inside, holding a torch in his hand. The King stared at him disoriented. "If you have come to kill me, be quick about it," he rasped, voice sounding oddly thick.

The Prince bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing. Instead, he pushed back his hood. "No one shall kill you, Your Majesty, not I while I draw breath."

At the sight of his son, the King allowed past his lips a strangled stream of words. Rhaegar, not having the patience or the time to make sense of what he said, made do with helping his father to his feet and then out of the cell. Ser Barristan climbed up the stairs ahead of them, so as to better protect the King.

They were unfortunate enough to happen in the path of a guard making his rounds and though the Kingsguard slew him where he stood, the man had managed to sound out his horn, thus alerting his people of the intrusion. Those close by attempted to stop them. But neither Rhaegar, nor Ser Barristan looked particularly ready to fail, having come so far.

Drawing out his own weapon, Rhaegar fought as best as he could, and in the end they managed to clear a path to the stables. Those who tried to stop them were treated to cutting steel and possibly fatal wounds. Each of them mounted a horse and the three made their way through the yard, Rhaegar and Selmy cutting soldiers left and right, the King riding between them. There was not a man that could stand in their way and before long not even one was trying.

They sped past the gates before they could be barred and rode through the dark and narrow streets of Duskendale to the outer walls and then finally onto the grassy plains where. Behind them shouts could be heard. Yet none would dare follow them beyond the walls of Duskendale, for they had all seen the host that waited there.

Free at last of their pursuers they galloped into camp. There the King was led into the tent especially prepared for his arrival. Rhaegar, of course, had allowed his mother to be the first to rush in after her husband. He waited outside intent upon giving them a moment of privacy. Surely there were some things which could only be said between husband and wife.

The Hand of the King arrived shortly after and maesters rushed behind him, each of the carrying small trays of Rhaegar knew not what.

"The King," Lord Tywin said, more a question than anything else.

"Has arrived as safely as can be," Rhaegar responded.

The maesters bowed but walked past then quickly. They entered the tent and Rhaegar prayed the gods that all would be well.