Merry Christmas! I hope wherever you are, whether you celebrate or not, no matter how your year went, I hope you have a lovely day.
Please see Author's Note for riotarttherite's incredible portrait for a glimpse of the royal family.
As always, thanks for reading, and leave a review if you can! Enjoy!
EPILOGUE
Sixteen years later
SELENE
The sea breeze stirred Selene's hair where she stood before the low wall, watching her princes duel on the sands below.
"Ha!" Robert laughed as his older brother missed his thrust.
But his joy was premature. In an almost effortless turn, Rhaegar smacked his brother's arm hard with the flat of his sword.
Rhaegar and Robert fought well. The same gods that decided to have the children of Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon fall in love weren't done with their jests when Selene's sons were born. The seed is strong, Jon Arryn once insisted on his deathbed, but the gods in their humor gave her firstborn son the silver hair of his grandsire. Rhaegar's silver hair curled like his mother's down to his shoulders, and he also shared her eyes, a deep Baratheon blue. Robert had the Baratheon black hair that he kept short, and his father's grey Stark eyes.
Lyanna's face was screwed in concentration as she attempted to paint her older brothers. Selene had been thrilled at the idea of raising her daughter to fight, but her eldest girl loved nothing more than painting. Except perhaps hawking with her father, for Lya was a fair archer and a better rider. Her violet eyes glittered as she turned toward her younger siblings.
Barristan dutifully practiced his forms. At two and ten, he had just been allowed steel. Despite his age, Selene could see he would be the true talent with the sword. Her older sons were competent enough, but Rhae preferred sitting in on council meetings and learning to rule while Bertie was too restless, favoring exploration and walking amongst the people. Bee was the one who dreamt of joining the Kingsguard and leading men to glory.
Selene smiled. Of all their children, Barristan had inherited his father's serious nature. He reminded Selene of Jon as he was when she first met him.
Near the waves, her two youngest were building castles in the sand. Alysanne and Joanna were inseparable mischief-makers, just over a year apart. Trouble seemed to follow the princesses wherever they went. For Selene, Aly was like peering through a looking glass at herself in her girlhood. Jo was the baby of the family, and like Rhae, surprised them all with her hair. The sun shone off it now like beaten gold, and it had inspired Selene to name her to honor her Lannister uncles.
Selene sighed happily, her fingers curling on the pink marble rail beneath her palm, the Dornish sun warm on her skin.
The Moon Gardens were Selene's favorite place in all the world. The only place where her family could truly rest away from the eyes of the realm. Nestled on the edge of a peninsula in the Sea of Dorne, the Gardens were more manse than castle, where pale pink marble paved the courtyards. Terraces overlooking the numerous pools and fountains were shaded by blood orange trees. Decorated with statues and sculptures, its walls were covered with ivy, grape, and climbing roses, producing a sweet fragrance wherever one stepped.
As an old Prince of Dorne built the Water Gardens as a gift for his Targaryen bride, so did Jon commission this modest manse for Selene as a gift after the birth of their twins. The royal family was sure to visit several times a year, and when they did, there was little talk of court.
Selene felt Jon's presence before she saw him. He took his place beside her.
"Gods, it's boiling, isn't it?"
"You're certainly dressed for the heat," Selene said, raising a brow at Jon's attire.
The king looked down at his bare chest and swimming trousers, "What? It's too hot for anything more than this."
Northern to the bone, Selene thought. "Don't worry, Jon. I have no complaints," she said, her eyes sweeping the strong muscles of his arms.
"I would hope not," Jon smiled. "I'm not the only one dressed for the heat," he said with appreciation, his finger tracing the notches of her spine where the back of her dress was open for his touch.
No matter how many children she bore him, Jon could no more keep his hands from her now than he could in the early days of their marriage. "We're in Dorne," Selene said, attempting to keep her voice steady despite Jon's lingering touch. "I'm wearing Dornish attire."
"I adore Dorne," Jon murmured, kissing her shoulder, much as the sun did.
Selene laughed, looking back to her children. Like their parents, the princes and princesses were dressed in light, loose silks.
Jon's eyes were on his children, too. "Feels like only yesterday they were all sneaking into our bed. I never thought I would miss waking with a foot in my face."
Selene smiled wistfully.
"I can't believe we'll be celebrating the twins' sixteenth nameday."
She knew what he meant. Upon their return, King's Landing would be a bustle of activity in celebration of the princes reaching the age of majority. It would also serve to announce their betrothals to the realm.
"This is the last time we'll all be here like this," Selene realized, her voice sad in her own ears.
"You never know…"
"Rhaegar will claim his seat on Dragonstone. Robert will leave us for his coming-of-age tour, before settling in Winterfell until Serena flowers. If we ever do come back here, they'll bring their…" she shuddered at the thought, "wives. Oh, Jon, I don't think my heart can take it."
Jon chuckled as Jo and Aly began to squabble over whose sandcastle was best. "We still have those two to keep us young."
"For now. Soon every lord and his heir will be beating down our door."
Jon's grip around her waist tightened, "Please don't say that. If one more knight crowns Lya the queen of love and beauty, I'll snap."
Selene laughed, "Such is the lot of a princess."
Jon did not smile, "It will be a rare man to make me part with any of them."
"I expect many fathers will be pushing their sons to speak with our girls during the celebrations."
"We could always confine them to their rooms," Jon suggested with a sly grin.
Selene giggled at the empty threat, "Another Maidenvault? I think not. If I must give away my boys, you have to let go of your girls."
"As you will," Jon sighed. "Can you fault me for protecting them?" He kissed her cheek, "Each one is as beautiful as their mother."
Selene felt a flush creep up her neck, as hot as the Dornish sun. Despite the lines in the corners of her eyes and occasional grey hair she found, Jon could always make her blush like a maiden. She glanced at her sons, "And they are as handsome as their father."
Jon slid a hand behind her nape, turned her face to his and kissed her. When he pulled away, his eyes were deliciously dark, and her heart was in her throat.
Nothing like the Dornish sun to make the blood run hot, Selene thought dizzily, convinced that half her children had been conceived in this very manse for that very reason.
"Forgive me, Your Grace," Selene smirked, "but this is hardly the kind of behavior fit for a respectable mother of six."
"Gods be good, that I should feel like this for a mother of six," Jon remarked, taking Selene's hand and holding it against the muscle of his thigh.
Selene's heart raced, "Gods forgive me that I should feel like this for a father of six," she said, leaning into him.
"Father!"
Jon broke away with a sigh, "Well, I can think of one reason to look forward to the day our children leave us."
Selene chuckled as Joanna threw herself into her father's arms. Jon lifted her with ease and held her to his hip.
"Aly says her castle is better than mine!" Jo pouted.
"It is!" Alysanne said, wrapping her arms around her mother's waist. "Tell her, Mother."
Selene brushed her daughter's black curls from her face, "I'm sure both of your castles are-"
"Someone's has to be best," Jo argued. "Right, Father?"
"Mine is best," Jon said simply.
Jo giggled, "But you haven't built one."
"Not yet," Jon conceded, "but when I do, it will be the greatest of them all."
Aly grabbed her father's hand and pulled, "Come build one with us!"
Jon laughed, "I will, but you two have to do something for me first."
Selene narrowed her eyes as Jon whispered into his daughters' ears. Aly and Jo exchanged impish grins, before dashing down the stone steps toward the sea and their siblings.
"What have you done?" Selene asked, playfully ominous.
"You'll see," Jon said with an expectant smile.
She stared at her husband. Silver hairs were starting to crop up in his brown locks, and faint lines creased his forehead. Beneath it all, she could always see the boy he once was.
Selene turned back to the sea. Joanna dashed over to Barristan and gave him a playful push. Aly did the same with Rhaegar. Selene's sons soon abandoned their swords and chased their young sisters. When sand was kicked up into Lyanna's face, she protested, and was promptly thrown into the sea by Robert. Soon, all six of Selene's children were splashing and laughing in the salt water, sunshine casting them all in golden light.
Selene laughed, her heart nearly bursting at the sight, until Jon swept her into his arms and carried her to the sea to join their children amongst the warm waves.
JON
The cavernous great hall was alive was music, candles, and chatter.
The light of sunset spilled through the western stained glass windows, throwing rainbows across the room, though there was plenty of color in the hall already. Half a thousand guests of just as many colors swirled about, dancing or jesting or conversing politely.
The Iron Throne loomed large at his back where Jon stood beside his wife.
Selene was radiant in a gown of cloth-of-silver, a necklace of diamonds and sapphires around her neck. She was a far cry from the slip of a girl she was when they had met. Time and motherhood had left their marks on her, adding faint laughter lines to the corners of her mouth and eyes, and widening her hips. Though she lamented these things in private, she reminded Jon of Cersei Lannister as he had first seen her at Winterfell all those years ago: a striking woman, as beautiful as men said. Though he would never say that to her. Memories of her mother were mostly unpleasant.
Looking at his eldest daughter now, Jon could not believe Selene had been that young when they met. It seemed only yesterday his daughter was a babe at her mother's breast.
A baby's wail.
Fuck.
"Your turn," his wife groaned.
With the deepest of sighs, Jon stood, and stumbled over to where his daughter lay.
"Shh, hush, now, Lya." Jon picked up the babe and held her to his chest. "It's alright, love."
In the bright light of the full moon, and not for the first time, Jon admired his daughter. Her hair was as dark as her mother's, and her eyes…she had his father's eyes. There was no other explanation for the violet that cried up at him. For the first time, Jon was able to see his father's eyes, and they were beautiful.
After a valiant attempt, Jon went back to the bed, "I believe she's asking for something I cannot give her."
Selene sighed, pushing herself up against the great oaken headboard. "Give her here."
As gently as he could, Jon slipped his daughter into her arms.
Selene's disgruntled face grew soft as she held their daughter. "Hello, hungry. Always hungry, aren't you?" she asked as she pulled down her gown and brought Lya to her breast. The babe latched, causing Selene to wince, but then mother and child both relaxed, and quiet was restored.
Jon beamed at them both, and he knew despite seven kingdoms worth of wet nurses, Selene would be damned if she let any other but her touch their children. And Jon knew, despite the rough wake ups, he would rather be the one to soothe their children in the unholy early hours of the morn.
"I'll go check on the boys."
Selene raised her brows, "I think you'll find them out of bed."
Jon frowned, until he opened the door. Sure enough, his two sons blinked up at him. "What are you up to?" he asked, amused.
"Lya's crying," Rhae said.
Jon turned back to Selene. "How did you know?"
A ghost of a smile rose to her lips, "Mother's intuition."
"Mama!" Robert cried, waddling passed his father, his twin at his heels.
Selene laughed softly as they clambered onto the great featherbed. "Come here, sweetlings. Lya's alright, see?"
A twin nestled on either side of her, both peering down at their baby sister.
"Does it hurt, Mama?" Rhae asked.
Selene shook her head. "No, love. She's hungry, is all."
Jon looked down at his little family.
Selene smiled up at him, her hair disheveled, eyes heavy with sleep, a babe suckling at her breast. She had never been so beautiful.
As he slipped into bed beside them, Rhae and Bertie settled into Selene's sides, their eyes growing heavy with sleep. When their breaths began to grow steady and deep, Selene leaned her head back with a sigh. "Finally."
Jon leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"What was that for?"
"No reason."
In the darkness, he spied a blush across her cheeks. She looked down at their boys, "They can stay the night."
"I'd pity whoever tried to stop them."
Selene laughed softly, and gave a great sigh, "Three is plenty, don't you think?"
"That's not what you said in Dorne," Jon reminded her. It had been their last night in the Gardens before returning to court, and Jon remembered holding her in his arms in one of the many sweetwater pools, the air soaked with blood oranges. He remembered how her voice rasped when she said, "Let's make another," and, as always, he had been powerless to refuse her.
Jon smirked, "One for each finger, remember?"
"Oh, I remember," Selene's smile grew wider. "We're building a nation, my love."
"Three is hardly a nation."
"What about four?"
Jon's head turned sharply.
Selene was glowing, the way she did when she was…
Jon slipped his hand along her cheek, "Are you sure?"
"I'm familiar enough with the feeling."
Jon grinned, drawing her close and pressing his forehead to hers. "Boy or girl?"
"I don't know yet, but if it's a girl-"
"-Alysanne, I know."
"Do you like it?"
"I do," Jon admitted. "We could call her Aly."
Selene adjusted the babe. "I haven't given much thought to a boy's name."
"I have. I've known for a while, actually."
Selene looked pleasantly surprised. "Have you now? It seems a mother should have some say in the naming of-"
"Barristan."
Selene's smile disappeared. Jon sat with an expectant smile, waiting for something, anything, but she was still, her eyes flicking back and forth between his own.
After several moments, she whispered, "Truly?"
"Of course, love," Jon's smile deepened. "Would that please you?"
"Please me?" Selene asked. Her eyes fell to his lips, and she leaned forward and kissed him, soft and sweet. "Nothing would please me more."
Jon placed a hand on her knee over the sheets, looking at his children all curled against their mother. He met her eyes, "I will do all I can for you. Anything, everything, always."
"I know you will," Selene's eyes pierced him to his core. "You already do."
Blinking the memory away, Jon continued to watch his Lyanna dance with the heirs of the realm. She was too beautiful, the boys too eager, and it made him suspicious. For all I know, they could be exchanging fervent vows of forbidden love, as we once did. The thought made him ill.
"My sweet king, you look as if you've swallowed something sour," Selene said softly, the torchlight reflecting off the diamonds she wore and the silver crown on her head.
"You know how much I love big celebrations."
Selene laughed, "Oh, but this is different, Jon. The boys are men grown."
"Men grown?" Jon's eyes were on their sons, where they whispered in hushed tones, nervously glancing at their brides-to-be. "They're only boys."
Selene beamed, "You were their age when you were made Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"Impossible."
"Very possible," said an all-too-familiar voice. "Though they're much better looking. That must be their mother's doing."
Jon smiled, "Lord Tarly."
"Your Grace," Samwell bowed, revealing the patch of thinning hair at the back of his head. The courtesy did not last long, as Jon drew his friend in for a clap on the back.
"It's been too long, Sam," Jon said, missing the time when his friend lived with them in the capital as their master of coin. "What have you been up to?"
"Ruling Horn Hill. Raising my sons."
Jon turned to where those sons had run up to his own. Little Sam was now a man of eight and ten, and walked with a courtly grace. Craster's son, Jon knew, though the boy himself did not. Jon Tarly was of an age with his namesake's twins, as short and dark as his brother was tall and fair. As Sam and his family had spent several years at court, the princes knew the boys well, and were soon drinking and shoving each other as boys were wont to do. That, and looking at girls.
"Ah, Myrcella and her girls have arrived," Selene said happily. She gave Jon a kiss on the cheek, "Be back so-"
Jon drew her close and kissed her full on the mouth.
Sam made a gagging sound, but Selene was left with a fierce blush on her face.
"My sister should visit court more often."
Jon laughed as she walked away.
"You know you're not the only ones here, right?" Sam teased.
Jon looked about the hall, "This isn't our bedchamber?"
"Gods, I hope not. I reckon the realm has seen enough horror."
Jon laughed.
"So how's assembly?" Sam asked.
Jon smiled. The early years of their reign had been grueling. Those who benefited from the wheel were averse to seeing it dismantled, but Jon and Selene had pleased lords and ladies where they could, arranging strong matches for their children and assuring them they would still hold their family lands and wealth. Samwell had been instrumental in drawing up the regions for each kingdom so the people could choose commoners amongst themselves to represent them at court. Twice a year, great lords and commoners would descend on King's Landing for weeks of ruling, whether it be taxation or reforms or otherwise.
"Well," Jon said proudly. "It's taken more than a decade, but I think the lords have finally come to accept that they aren't the only ones in charge anymore."
"Neither are you," Sam reminded him.
The crown was the part of the wheel that was toughest to break, but they had no choice if they genuinely wanted to usher in a new era of peace. Jon and Selene had signed the Royal Charter, which limited the crown's power. It made certain things painfully slow, but he knew it was the only way.
Jon sighed as he turned to the hall. King he was, but not like any king that came before. How many kings have had to placate the commons as well as the nobles? How many kings gave power to their people?
But as he saw his three youngest children laughing with their Dornish cousins, girls dark of skin and eye, with golden curls, he did not feel remorse. Everything I do, I do for my children. To make the realm a better place for them.
"Hello, Father."
Jon brightened, "Amyra! I didn't know you were back."
His ward bowed low, before shrugging off the pretense and rushing into his arms. "I meant for it to be a surprise. You didn't think I'd miss the boys' namedays, did you?"
"Last we heard, you were in the Summer Seas."
"I was. Had a close call with some pirates once or twice, but-"
"Amyra!"
Selene came surging back up the dais from nowhere and threw her arms around the girl.
"Mother," Amyra grinned as she returned the embrace, "I missed you."
"And I you, darling." Selene pulled away, beaming. Her joy curdled on her face. "Your nose!"
"I thought you wouldn't notice," Amyra winced.
Jon frowned, looking again. Their was a slight crook in the girl's nose that was definitely not there before she set off. "What happened?"
"Just a training accident," Amyra shrugged off her mother's concern.
"That wouldn't have anything to do with the pirates, would it?" Jon asked.
"Pirates?"
Amyra groaned, "Father."
"Was that meant to be a secret? Sorry."
"It's nothing, Mother," Amyra said. "Honest."
Selene did not seem to believe her, "If you need more protection, we can give you more ships or men…"
Amyra rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, Mother, truly. Oh, I nearly forgot." She dug around in her trousers for a moment, drawing out a faded and folded scrap of parchment. "From Naath."
Selene's eyes lit up. "Naath?"
"Yes," Amyra smiled. "She's just like the stories."
Selene held the letter in her hand like it was worth all the gold in Casterly Rock. "Thank you."
"Of course. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to give the boys their gifts."
Jon slipped his arm around Selene's waist as their ward strode off, two of her sailors bearing woven cages at her back. "We'll speak more. I promise."
Selene smiled, "I know…it's just…I've missed her."
"As have I." Watching Amyra sail away for the first time was like sending a piece of his heart into the unknown, but it's what the girl wanted more than anything, and so they had.
Selene's smile faded. "To know that soon we'll lose Rhaegar and Robert as well…"
Jon knew what she meant, but wanted to comfort her. "They won't be lost, Selene. They'll be married. They're-"
"-marrying into better families."
Jon turned with a smile at the Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne, their old friends from the war. "It's treason to speak such of your king and queen."
"Then execute us."
"Now, now," Prince Garlan Tyrell said to his wife. "No need to start our daughter's marriage on so bad a foot. Think of Meriah."
"You've always been the sensible one, ser," Selene said. "I see Meriah has inherited her father's nature."
"Yes," Arianne admitted, "she has none of my brazenness. That has all gone to her brother, much to our peril."
The four laughed.
"Did someone say brazenness?"
Selene turned to her uncle. "Were your ears burning?"
"Oh, absolutely," said the Lord of Casterly Rock, his wife at his side. "I'm a brazen as they come."
Sansa Stark rolled her eyes, a hand on her pregnant belly. "That's not the word I would use."
"And what word would you use, my lady? Be gentle with me, mind."
Sansa laughed, "Prudent comes to mind."
"Prudent?" Tyrion asked, incredulous, while the others laughed. "Gods, when did I become such a bore?"
"Sometime after Serena, I believe," said Sansa.
"Ah, to be sure. Fatherhood turns even the boldest man prude."
"How do you explain Jon?" Selene said quickly, ignoring her husband's narrowed eyes. "He was one long before the twins."
Jon's jaw dropped as their friends' laughter rung around them.
Selene had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, too.
"Like I said," Jon's face broke into a smirk, "it's treason to speak such to your king."
"Like Arianne said," Selene shot back. "Execute me."
"I just might."
"Leave it to us highborns to talk of treason and execution on a day as joyful as this one," said Prince Garlan. "Is it time?"
Jon placed his hand on Selene's lower back, drawing his wife to his side. All their playfulness melted away, and Jon only saw the woman he'd been in love with for nearly all his life. He glanced about the hall, his eyes drawn to the children she had bore him, and the king smiled.
"It's time."
RHAEGAR
Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, only had eyes for his intended.
Princess Meriah Martell was beautiful, he had always thought so. The Martells visited the capital often, and the royal family had stopped at Sunspear at nearly every royal progress. Rhaegar watched her from the corner of his eye. Her thick, black hair fell in waves down her back, her eyes burning like molten gold, bronzed skin glowing in the candlelight. Growing up, their mothers encouraged them to play together, but Rhae would always get tongue-tied, while Robert was nothing but charismatic. Rhae had been stunned when his parents sat him down and told him Meriah had chosen him over his brother. Stunned, but pleased.
Meriah was giggling with his sister. Lya is probably telling her an embarrassing story about me, Rhae thought nervously, praying he was wrong.
"Come now, my prince," said their friend Edmund Tully. The heir to Riverrun had his father's flaming locks, and his mother's kind eyes. "You have your whole life to spend with Meriah. Why not enjoy a few choice fruit before settling on one forever?"
His twin threw an arm over his shoulder, "That's simply not Rhaegar's way, Ed. Trust me, I've tried."
"Forgive me if I'm not attempting to sleep my way through King's Landing."
Bertie grinned while their friends laughed, "You wound me, brother. As well as slander my good name with such baseless accusations."
Rhae smirked. Robert's frequent brothel visits was no news to any of them.
"I have no intention of going to my marriage bed a nervous man-maid," Bertie had told him. "Once I say my vows, I intend to keep them, but there is no shame in pleasure."
"Speaking of choice fruit…" Sam Tarly sighed.
The Hightower twins walked by them then, hair the color of honey, giggling.
Rhaegar swore some girls did nothing but giggle.
"Go speak with them," Rhae told the Tarlys. "Be sure to close your mouths first."
Jon Tarly crossed his arms, "Something wrong with your legs, my prince?"
Robert screwed up his face, "I'm afraid I stand with my brother on this one. We can hardly seduce girls named for our own parents, can we? It's nauseating. Besides, if Rhae and I stepped in, you ugly bastards wouldn't stand a chance."
Edmund straightened, "Please. I'll have Joan and Selene eating out of the palm of my hand before the night is through."
The Tarlys and Edmund gave each other a look, before dashing off after the Hightowers.
The Prince of Dragonstone chuckled, "Classic."
Robert grinned, "Why don't you take your own advice? Go to Meriah."
Rhae's mouth felt very dry.
Robert laughed, "Oh, I am so going to miss this when I leave for the Free Cities."
Miss me, he means, Rhae heard beneath his words.
Lyanna came up to them, leaving Meriah behind with her Dornish ladies.
"What do you two know of Leo Tyrell?"
"Leo Longlance?" Bertie asked.
Rhae bit back a laugh.
Lya frowned, "He doesn't ride in tourneys."
"Oh, I know."
Lya smacked his arm, "You're a pig."
Bertie rubbed the spot, "Remember your courtesies, sweet sister, or I'll have no other course but to tell Mother how unseemly you're behaving. And on my own nameday! Does your depravity know no bounds?"
"Leo Tyrell," said Rhae as his sister glowered at his twin, "distant relation to Lord Willas, but heir to Highgarden as Willas has no children."
Lya rolled her eyes, "I know that, but…is he kind? Is he clever? Will you speak to him on my behalf?"
"He's far too old," Rhae said, crossing his arms.
"He's only twenty, and I'm a maiden grown and flower-"
Bertie gagged.
"You two are no help," Lya grumbled. "I'll do it myself." She straightened her dress, took a deep breath, and went to the heir to Highgarden.
"Why is she walking like that?" asked Rhae.
"We women have our secrets."
The twins turned at the familiar voice. "Amyra!" They chorused in surprise, and soon the three were embracing. Their parent's ward was tall enough to lock their heads under each arm.
"And how are my favorite royal brats?"
Robert looked at Rhaegar, "Do our sweet sisters delight in being cruel to us?"
"Cruel?" Amrya raised a brow. "I go all the way to the summer sea to fetch your gifts, and I'm cruel, am I? Well, perhaps I should give these gifts to those who deserve them. Are Aly and Jo about?"
"Gifts?" That got Robert's attention, as did the two men at the ward's back. Strange squawking came from the cages in their arms, drawing eyes from those around them.
Amyra did not pay them any mind. A wide grin spread on her face, "May I present to you, all the way from the jungles of Sothoryos…" the girl unlatched the cages… "rainbow birds!"
Two swirls of vibrant color burst forth. Those around them gasped as the birds flapped against the leather binds on their talons, until settling down on their handler's heads.
Robert rushed forward, "Thank you, Amyra! They're incredible."
Rhaegar watched as the two chattered excitedly about the birds. Their dreams are full of sundering rivers, Rhae thought. Windswept plains and towering mountains with their shoulders in the clouds, green islands verdant in the sun, strange beasts no man had tamed and queer fruits no man had tasted, golden cities shining underneath strange stars… While my dreams have already been dreamt for me. The throne, the crown, the Seven Kingdoms. Growing up, Rhae once feared his brother was jealous of all that was destined for him, but now… Robert thinks himself a free man, and me a prisoner. He would not trade places with me for all the gold in the world.
Bertie turned to the men, "Bring these to the Kingsguard and have them sent to our chambers. Uh oh, look out, brother."
Rhaegar turned toward the throne as a herald commanded the hall's attention. In the shadow of the throne stood his parents, alongside the Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne, the Lady of Winterfell, and the Lord of Casterly Rock.
Meriah and Serena's parents, Rhae knew, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Friends, be welcome in our home and hall," their father the king said in a loud, clear voice. "Thank you for joining my family in celebrating the namedays of Princes Rhaegar and Robert of Houses Targaryen, Baratheon, Lannister, and Stark."
The hall clapped and cheered. Rhae raised his hand dutifully as the eyes turned toward him and his twin.
Robert gave a flourishing bow.
Show off, Rhae thought with dull irritation. He may have been the heir, but Robert seemed to enjoy the attention far more than he ever could.
Queen Selene beamed at them, "It gives me great pleasure to celebrate my sons, and to announce their betrothals to the realm."
Whispers flew about the hall. Maidens and their fathers stood a little straighter.
"A toast!" the queen cried. "To the betrothal of Prince Rhaegar to Princess Meriah Martell of Dorne, and Prince Robert to Lady Serena Stark of Winterfell."
The hall exploded in cheers. Everyone lifted their glasses and eyes to them.
Rhaegar leaned close to his brother. "Come, Bertie. Let's give them a show."
The twins went to their intendeds and extended a hand.
Meriah took Rhae's with a gentle smile that made his stomach flip. Is it just me, or is it like the hottest Dornish day in here?
The musicians began to pluck at their strings as Rhaegar, Meriah, Robert, and Serena stood together on the steps below their parents.
"A dance!" Father boomed. "For the future king and queen of these Seven Kingdoms, and the future Lord and Lady of Winterfell."
Rhaegar led Meriah to the center of the Great Hall. He faced her, heat rising in his face.
As the musicans played, Rhae took the princess in his arms and began to lead her about the hall. At least dancing was something he was good at. He avoided his gaze from where Bertie stumbled to keep from laughting.
Meriah noticed, "Are you alright, Your Grace?"
Rhaegar cleared his throat, "Yes, it's only…my brother is a terrible dancer."
"And that pleases you?"
Rhae smiled, "Immensely."
Meriah laughed, the sound as pleasant as tinkling bells. Rhae's ears grew warm.
"You…" the prince swallowed nervously, "…you look beautiful, princess."
Meriah's cheeks colored. "Thank you, my prince. You do, as well."
Rhae raised a brow.
"Handsome," Meriah said quickly, her blush deepening. "I mean handsome."
Rhaegar had heard as much before. Of all his siblings, he was the only one with the famed Targaryen silver-gold hair. That, and his mother's eyes, made girls all nervous around him, though he never took their compliments to heart. I'm the heir to the throne. Even if I looked like a troll, highborn maidens would throw themselves at my feet. He had always taken their compliments with doubt, but it felt different from Meriah.
"Thank you, princess."
Lords and ladies began to join the dance, switching partners. Rhae was loathe to let Meriah go, but could hardly object when his own brother initiated the switch.
Rhae found himself dancing with his future good sister. Serena Stark was a girl of three and ten, but she moved with a lady's grace. A sweeter fate than my brother deserves, Rhae thought as he beheld her red hair worn in a northern fashion, and her Lannister eyes, which reminded him of his younger brother.
"You look lovely, cousin," Rhae said amiably. Their families were tied by blood on both sides, so cousin was just simplest.
"Thank you, my prince," Serena said graciously. "Are you enjoying your nameday?"
Rhae scrunched his nose, the way his mother did. "I don't like being fussed over, my lady."
Serena smiled. "Then you must be having a terrible time. Everyone here is doing nothing but fuss over you and your royal brother."
Rhaegar chuckled. "At least Robert enjoys it."
Serena's eyes went to her intended. "He does, doesn't he?" She wasn't looking at Bertie the way maidens were meant to look at their husbands. Serena Stark looked at his brother as if she were trying to solve a riddle.
"Robert will be a good husband," Rhae shifted uncomfortably, not wanting Serena to think otherwise. "He'll make you laugh."
"The north is hard, Your Grace. My lords won't take kindly to being ruled by a southern jester."
"He won't rule them, my lady. You will. You're the Stark."
Lady Serena's lip curved, "That I am, only… I had hoped to share the burden with my lord husband."
Rhae glanced at his twin where he danced dutifully with their mother the queen. "I know how he appears, my lady, but trust me, my brother will surprise you. He's quick to laugh and smile, but there is a good lord beneath it all. He's got the north in him," he reminded her. "Our grandmother was a Stark, our father raised at Winterfell."
"You value his opinion." It was not a question.
"I do," Rhaegar said. "More than I'd care to admit. I've often thought of making him my Hand one day."
Serena's brows rose at that. "You must have a lot of faith in him. Thank you, Your Grace."
"What for?"
"For sharing your thoughts with me," Lady Serena said. "If you will excuse me."
The lady went up to Robert and spoke softly to him. Bertie offered his arm with a smile, and the two disappeared into the crowd.
Rhae went up to his mother, "May I have this dance?"
The queen smiled warmly, "I thought you'd never ask." Her eyes were elsewhere. "What did you say to Serena?"
"Only what I thought of Bertie."
Mother raised a brow, "Nothing too terrible, I hope."
Rhae laughed, "Of course not. Do you think they'll be happy together?"
"We can only hope. Serena is a serious child, but you know your brother. If anyone can make the girl smile, it's Bertie. Uncle Tyrion seems to think so, as well."
"What about me and Meriah?" Rhae blurted without thinking. Once the words were out, he realized just how worried he was.
Mother brought him close in a loving embrace. "Oh, sweetling. Of course you will be happy together. You've known each other for years."
"I know, but…" Rhae struggled to find the right words. Well, the right words I can say to my mother. "All those visits, Meriah would spend time with me and Bertie. He always made her laugh, while I-"
Mother cut him off. "Laughter does not mean love. Look at your father."
Rhae's mouth dropped. "Father makes you laugh!"
"He does, but it's not in his nature."
"What if she only chose me to become queen?"
Mother drew back at that, a storm brewing in her eyes. "Listen to me closely, Rhaegar. Princess Meriah is a kind girl. I have watched her grow with a close eye, and her parents are dear friends of your father and I. If I thought for one moment she chose you out of ambition, I would not allow the match. Do you understand?"
Prince Rhaegar had no words. Sometimes, the woman before him was only his mother, the woman who held him close when he had nightmares and kissed his tears away when he'd hurt himself in training. But sometimes he glimpsed the queen who would sit high on the Iron Thone, the dragonrider who rode into battle wielding Dark Sister and Stormsbane.
When he realized she was awaiting his response, Rhae nodded.
Mother smiled, the iron in her gone as sudden as a summer squall. "Good. Now go on, love. Doubtless you'd rather spend the night in the company of friends, instead of your fretful mother."
A rush of affection rose in his chest. Rhaegar felt his heart sink at the thought of leaving his family for Dragonstone. It would be the first time in his life he would be without them.
The prince leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Mother."
Mother blinked, fingers rising to her face. She smiled, brushing a strand of silver hair from his eyes, "I love you, too, my little dragon."
Uncle Gendry swept her away for a dance, and Rhaegar made his way to the Iron Throne, and to his father.
He passed his friends in their attempts to seduce the Hightower sisters. Jon Tarly must have considered them a lost cause, for now he was speaking to the Tarbeck girl.
Rhaegar enjoyed having all his friends gather in the capital, but he had to remind himself that this room, these lords and ladies, was not his realm.
"This is your realm," Mother once told him when he was no more than seven. They were watching children play in the courtyard of one of King's Landing's orphanages. "Remember them, in everything you do. Remember, Rhaegar, kingship is your duty, and a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."
"You should be amongst friends."
"As should you, Father."
The king smiled. "I prefer the quiet. You and I have that in common."
Rhae's eyes went from his twin where he laughed and danced with his intended, to his mother where she laughed and danced with the Prince Consort of Dorne. "How do they do it?"
"Gods above know, but we love them for it."
Prince Rhaegar sighed, his eyes searching for his betrothed.
"I believe the princess is at the back of the hall, with the cousins you share."
Heat bloomed beneath Rhae's cheeks, "Oh…thanks. How…"
The king chuckled, "I know the look."
Rhaegar pressed his lips into a line. He was desperate for his father's advice.
"What is it, son?"
The prince sighed, "It's just…I just…how do I know?"
"Know what?"
"That we'll be happy?" Rhae said. "That she'll be a good queen, or friend, or wife?"
"You've been friends for years."
Rhaegar ran his fingers through his hair, "Not the way I'm friends with Edmund or the Tarlys. Not really."
Father chuckled, "I suppose you're right. Listen, Rhae. The crown is too much for one to bear alone. I could not have done it without your mother. A king and queen must rule together, as equals."
Rhae thought of his parents, and all the times he had watched them rule from the Iron Throne, all the times he saw his mother make his father laugh, all the times he saw them exchange a kiss when they thought their children could not see. He wanted that, too.
"How did you know? About Mother?"
Father blinked, his eyes finding the queen where she danced with her uncle, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. A slow smile spread on his face, "When I was four and ten, I did not understand how it was that to look at a girl could turn my bones to water, yet make me feel I could bend steel in my hands. When I was eight and ten, I did not understand how a woman could be my courage and conscience, how the world could fall away when she was in my arms.
"And when she told me I was to be a father?" The king sighed, "I did not know a man could feel such love. Sometimes love is instant, sometimes it grows, and sometimes it does both." Father placed a large hand on his shoulder, "Be patient, and be kind. From what I've seen, you have nothing to fear."
Rhae smiled, feeling a surge of daring. "Thank you, Father. If you will excuse me."
Father gave him a knowing nod as he descended the dais, walking boldly to Meriah.
"Would you like to see the Portrait Hall, princess?"
The Dornish princess blinked in surprise, a pleased blush spreading across her face. "If it would please Your Grace."
Rhaegar offered her his arm, the way his father taught him.
The Portrait Hall led directly to the royal apartments, and was lined with pictures of the past.
"They're magnificent," Meriah whispered in awe.
Rhae looked to the painting she was referring, and smiled, "This portrait was commissioned in celebration of their ascension to the throne. My brother and I are in that one as well."
Meriah giggled, "What? The bump in her belly?"
Rhae nodded.
"Your mother is beautiful."
"So says every singer in an attempt to win her favor, though she only cares when Father says it. You'll be praised as well, once you're queen."
Meriah's eyes widened.
Rhae's palms grew clammy. "I didn't mean-"
"It's alright, Your Grace," Meriah said. "I just can't believe I'll be queen one day."
"Your Grace is too formal. Please, call me Rhaegar."
"Only if you call me Meriah."
"Meriah," Rhae said with a smile. He liked how it sounded on his tongue.
"Who else calls you Rhaegar?"
"My family, but only when they're cross. When they're not…they call me Rhae."
Meriah smiled, "Rhae?"
He liked how that sounded even better. "Yes. Only my family calls me that. You…you can call me that, too, if it pleases you."
"It does. My father calls me Meri."
Meri, Rhae thought. That's fitting. She makes me merry. He decided never to admit something so embarrassing aloud.
Meriah kept walking down the hall, eyes on the paintings, "Do all your siblings have pet names?"
Rhae followed her, nodding, "Bertie, Lya, Bee-"
"Bertie?" Meriah giggled uncontrollably.
Rhaegar gave her a lopsided smile, "His is by far the most embarrassing."
"Why not Rob? Surely that's less so."
Rhae looked at his feet, "It's too painful. For both my parents."
Meriah paled, "Oh…of course. I'm sorry, I should have-"
"It's alright," Rhae reassured her. "Just please don't tell him I told you."
"I'm tempted to call him Bertie next we meet," Meriah confessed. "It would be such a fitting reward for all the times he's teased everyone else."
"He's always been funny," Rhae admitted, gazing at the most recent portrait of his family, meant to celebrate fifteen years since the start of his parent's reign. Mother and Father stood in the centre, hand in hand, Rhae and his twin on either side of them, the firstborn sons. Bee stood dutifully with his sword at his hip, Lya willowy and graceful, Jo and Aly before the king and queen.
The artist had managed to make them look regal, though Rhae could see the truth beneath the formality: the happy twinkle in his father's eye, the curve of his mother's lip as she suppressed a smile, Bertie's self-satisfied grin, the winter roses Lya had hastily tucked behind her ear, Bee's eagerness to return to his training, Aly and Jo dreaming of ways to cause trouble…
He wondered what Meriah saw when she looked at him in the painting. He was going to ask, until she took his hand.
Rhae turned, surprised at the gesture, and at the look she was giving him.
"I…" Meri started, before taking a deep breath. "I'm glad I'm marrying you."
Rhae felt a flush creep up his neck, and found himself leaning forward, toward her pretty golden eyes, "Me too…" he said, brushing his lips against hers.
God, I hope I'm doing this right. Rhae had never…not really…
Meri slipped her arms around his neck and drew herself up to him.
Rhae's head felt like it was full of sand.
A throat cleared behind them. "I hope we're not interrupting."
Rhae and Meriah whipped around.
To his horror, Rhaegar's siblings were approaching from the Great Hall.
"What are you doing here?" Rhae asked, annoyed to hear his voice sounding higher than usual.
Robert wore an incredulous grin, Jo clinging sleepily to his back, "Mother asked us to put the little ones to bed."
"It's also her way of sending the older ones away," said Barristan matter-of-factly.
"What?" Robert was scandalized.
Lya fought a smile, "My brothers, sisters and I must retire, Princess Meriah. If you will excuse us."
Meriah's face was the same shade of crimson as her dress. "Of course, princess," she squeaked, walking briskly away from them.
Dejected, Rhae watched her go. "You all are the worst."
Aly looked up from where she held Lyanna's hand, "Does Rhae love Meriah?"
Lyanna laughed, "Not yet. Soon enough, though, by the looks of it." She reached up and ruffled his hair, "Come on, Florian."
Rhae swatted her hand away, "I'm no Florian."
"You're as big a fool," joked Robert, ducking Rhae's swing of retaliation. "Hold on tight, Jo. Florian is after us!"
Jo giggled breathlessly as her older brothers chased each other into the common chamber.
The royal common room was Rhaegar's favorite place in the castle. A cosy chamber with six doors in opposing directions leading to the sibling's individual rooms, the common room was where they played together. Where Rhae would read his histories, Bertie would tease Aly, Bee would read Jo tales of famous knights, and Lya would try to capture them all with her paints. His mother and father would curl up by the fire and read, though often, Rhae spied his mother watching them play rather than the words on her page.
Sea air floated through the windows, the sound of gentle waves crashing below drifting in as well. It smelled and sounded like home, like years of comfort and happiness.
"Hello children."
At the unfamiliar voice, Rhaegar, Robert and Barristan lunged for their swords. Lyanna drew her bow in an instant, the muscles in her arms as taught as the string. The four of them stood side by side, keeping Joanna and Alysanne at their backs.
At the sight of the creature near the balcony, Rhae swallowed a gasp of revulsion.
It was squat and warty, with yellow eyes crusted with something vile. The smell of sick was so overwhelming, he could not believe he didn't smell it sooner. She looked like a woman ravaged by centuries, her skin almost green.
The woman cackled at their defensive stances, "You're all certainly hers."
"Who are you?" Rhaegar demanded.
"My name is Maggy."
"These are the royal apartments," said Lyanna. "How did you get in here?"
"I walked."
Robert glanced at the ashen faces of his young sisters, "Leave. Now. Before we make you."
"I've come for what was promised."
"We have promised you nothing," said Barristan.
"Not you. Your mother."
Rhae's sword arm dipped, "What do you know of our mother?"
Maggy walked forward with a smile, revealing gums and decay. Lya gagged as the odor wafted toward them.
"She was just an insolent child when she begged me to read her morrow in her flesh. I tasted her life's blood, and her mother's before her. I knew of you six long before you were born."
Rhae felt Joanna shaking where she clutched him. He felt a pulse of rage and a rush of protectiveness. I won't allow this creature to frighten my sister.
I'm the eldest, Rhaegar thought as he glanced at his brothers and sisters. I can't let anything happen to them.
He brought Jo next to him and knelt before her. Lyanna, Robert, and Barristan gave him looks of confusion, but he only turned to his baby sister.
"Look at me, Joanna."
I never call her Joanna. She knew it too, and turned to him with wide, grey eyes.
"Who are you?"
"I…I-"
"Who are you?"
"Joanna Targaryen, the blood of old Valyria."
Rhae saw the color return to Alysanne's face, and Barristan stand a bit straighter.
"And your parents?"
"King Jon Targaryen, the White Wolf and Queen Selene Baratheon, Winter's Fury."
As Joanna spoke, Rhaegar saw her courage return to her.
"You are a descendant of Kings of Winter and the Rock," Rhae reminded her, reminded them all. "Of ancient dragonlords and Storm Kings. You are a princess of the realm and you are my sister. What reason do you have for being afraid?"
Joanna lifted his chin, eyes blazing. "None."
"Good," Rhaegar turned to the witch. "Now what should we do with her?"
Joanna faced the witch who had terrified her only moments before. Before she remembered himself.
"Get out!"
"You heard her," Rhaegar said as he stood, leveling his sword. His final warning. "Get out."
Maggy took a step back, "A message for your mother. I have come for what was promised. Her oldest treasure. The love between a king and queen. She has two days."
With that, the witch snapped her fingers. All the light drained from the room.
When they looked again, she was gone.
Author's Note
I could never forget good old Maggy the Frog. As you might have guessed, this will be a two part epilogue. The next one will really be the last chapter (I promise), so this is the last chance ever to ask me any questions about the story. Feel free to ask me anything! I'll answer all questions at the end of the next chapter.
Please search for 'Mine is the Fury - Epilogue Portrait' on the website: Game of Thrones Fanon Wiki. I wish I could link it directly, but FF does not like links. Be sure to click 'See full size image' for the highest quality, and to check out all the tiny details in their clothes! Follow riotarttherite on social media for incredible ASOIAF fan art, and I highly recommend commissioning her as she was a dream to work with.
Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! See you next time!
ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Merry Christmas! And no, unfortunlatey not. I already wrote a bit of a birth scene in the nightmare in Ch. 64, so I did not feel the need to do it again. Hope you liked this chapter!
RHarch89: Thanks! It was nice to write some happiness for a change.
reallybadwriter2000: Thank you on all three counts! I totally agree about Sansa/Tyrion and Arya's reaction to Gendry. And of course, love me some baby dragon. Happy to hear you love this story enough for it to be canon!
GreenEyedTrickster: Thank you so much for your kind words! I really appreciate it.
MillieBelle: Thank you!
DarkFriday1408: As always, thank you for your kind review. As far as succession and titles for Lannister / Stark, it will be a sort of split scenario. In the above chapter, we meet Serena Stark, their firstborn who will inherit Winterfell. They have a younger soon (who we won't meet) named Lannister who will inherit the Rock. And thanks for asking about my wedding! We had a really small ceremony earlier this year and it was absolutely perfect! Merry Christmas!
recey2019: Thank you so much! Unfortunately not planning a sequel for this one but hope you like (and will like) the hefty epilogue!
UmiNight Angel Neko: Thank you!
VtrCst: Wow! That is so kind of you to say! Thank you for telling me and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
Zuzu136: Thank you so much! I did debate about ending it there, but I was too obsessed with the idea of their kids, and of course, I couldn't let the whole Maggy the Frog subplot go. Thank you for your kind review!
PinkFlower2: Thank you very much! That means a lot!
