He was in pain. His sides hurt, his head hurt, he even threw up. The sound of battle around him became dimmer and dimmer until nothing but silence remained. He closed his eyes, waiting for the eternal sleep to claim him. But it wasn't sleep that claimed him but a pair of strong arms that dragged him slowly from the cold waters of the Trident. Suddenly, the silence was no more. A voice, calling to him from the abyss. Oh, how much he loved its sound! He finally opened his eyes but not to the battle but to the black and red roof of his tent.

"What…" His jaw hurt. The voice from before then finally had a face. A man in armor, his shoulders draped with the snow white cloak of his father's Kingsguard, looked at him with sad blue eyes, speaking with a sad voice.

"My prince, easy! You need to rest."

Rest? How can I rest? "The battle… Barristan… the battle…"

"Easy, my prince. The battle is over. We won."

Victory? But why can't I remember? "Lyanna! I…"

"Rest for now."

What sweet joy! I remember her! "Lyanna…" He then fell asleep again.

He then opened his eyes again. He felt a bit cold. Turning his head to the left, he noticed it was night. The tent was empty except for Ser Barristan. Barristan the Bold, men called him. Barristan, my savior, the prince called him in his thoughts.

"My prince, how are you feeling?"

"I… I feel better, I think." He tried to get up from the bed but he heaved again. Ser Barristan gave him a cup of water.

"Easy, Prince Rhaegar. Sudden movements would only increase your discomfort, or so the maesters said."

Rhaegar nodded. "The battle. What happened?"

"You killed the rebel Robert Baratheon. Don't you remember?"

"I remember only the shouts of men and the clang of steel."

"If you don't remember, the singers would make sure you'll do it. Soldiers already talk about the Stag's Ford. You cracked Baratheon's head like an egg."

An egg… "Are we still at the Trident?"

"Yes. When you'll be able to travel, we'll return to the capital. The prisoners shall be judged by His Grace. We sent ravens to King's Landing with news of our victory."

Prince Rhaegar could only imagine what judgment Aerys Targaryen would pass onto the captured lords. "What about the others of the Kingsguard, ser?"

Barristan lowered his gaze and sadness returned to his eyes. "Apart from my brothers in the south, I am the only one remaining. Lyn Corbray slew Prince Lewyn while Jon Darry was killed by the rebel himself. I am happy that you avenged him."

Rhaegar sighed. "My wife would surely be sad. She and her uncle were close. As for Ser Jon, it took all the strength of Robert Baratheon to end him. Such a man he was."

"Indeed. As the black brothers say, we shall never see their likes again."

"What about the prisoners, ser? Whom did we capture?"

"Lord Hoster was severely wounded. He survived but he lost his foot. We keep him under guard in one of the tents. Lord Arryn surrendered after you slew Robert and more than likely mourns for his lost ward as we speak. As for Lord Eddard Stark, he disappeared. We sent out hunters after him but until now, they haven't returned."

"How many days passed since the battle?"

"Four."

"I lingered here for four days?"

"Count yourself lucky, my prince, that your wounds weren't that serious. You came back to us after four days. The dead shall never return."

He was right. Rhaegar could now see his children and his beloved Lyanna. And his poor wife, too…

"I shall let you sleep, my prince." said Barristan as he left. "Rest shall replenish your strength."

Rhaegar wanted to ask Barristan to remain but he was too weak to even shout. He fell asleep again, dreaming of Dorne, a tower and Lyanna.

In the ninth day since the battle, Prince Rhaegar recovered completely. He now remembered everything about how he killed Robert Baratheon. The rebel lifted his enormous hammer to deliver the final strike only for Rhaegar to stab the rebel through an eye slit of his horned helm. The rebel's hammer fell from his arms onto his head, caving his helm and his head with it. A fitting death for a traitor, to be killed by his own weapon. Rhaegar then grabbed his cloak and covered his still sore shoulders.

"Ser Barristan? I shall see the prisoners."

"As you wish, my prince."

The sun's light hurt Rhaegar's eyes for a bit but he adjusted. He made his way through the camp while his men shouted and sang. The Hero of the Trident, the Slayer of Stags, the Invincible Dragon, these were only a few of the ways they named him. Rhaegar could only smile and continue his way to the tent of Lord Jon Arryn, the Warden of the East. His tent was of a good quality, fitting for a lord like him. Inside, Jon Arryn drank a cup of wine while reading a book.

"My lord?"

The Lord of the Eyrie lifted his eyes from the book and, after getting up from his chair, proceeded to bow before the prince. "My prince."

"I hope you were treated right, according to your rank and noble blood."

"I was, Prince Rhaegar. I was treated with respect and honor. For that, I thank you."

"Shall we sit? I want to talk to you."

"As you command."

After sitting at the table, Prince Rhaegar looked at the book in front of Lord Jon.

"What are you reading, my lord of Arryn?"

"Ah, foolish poetry. My Lost Soul, by…"

"Andrash Belych, the Sellsword Poet. There is a saying in the Free Cities, if I recall… If Lyseni poetry is the shield for the heart, the Braavosi poetry is the hammer that shatters it."

"Fitting, isn't it, my prince? My heart has been shattered in thousands of pieces."

"We were at war, my lord. I know Robert was like a son to you, but…"

"Please, my prince. I know. I… I shouldn't have supported him in this madness. But when your royal father asked me to deliver my wards to their deaths…"

"You did the honourable thing. Wards are like the children of our body. To have a hand in their deaths is akin to kinslaying. My father shouldn't have asked you to do that. That's on him."

"Pardon my bluntness, my prince, but what now?"

"My father knows about my victory here and about the death of Robert Baratheon. He expects me and my prisoners to come to the capital as fast as possible. More than likely, he wishes to judge you."

"Ah, blast it. I know what kind of judgement His Grace shall have for me. The one Lord Rickard Stark got. We need not move to King's Landing just for that. If you wish me dead, end me now. It will be far less painful and far more dignified that whatever torture your father shall prepare for me. Or, if you wouldn't want to dirty your hands with rebel blood, provide me a knife. I shall do the deed myself."

Rhaegar Targaryen frowned. "I shall not kill you, Lord Arryn. Nor I would let my father kill you. You are a most honourable man and if you die, your most ancient line shall end with you, unless you impregnated your lady wife before you left for battle. The loss of such and exalted House as yours shall be a wound the Seven Kingdoms would be unable to bear. I intend to change everything in the realm but I need men like you to help me."

"Tell me, did you intend to change everything when you kidnapped Lyanna Stark? When you caused this whole misery?"

"Everything shall be revealed at the appropriate time. Think about what I've said. You lost a ward but you shall live and have a son of your body to continue your line, I will make sure of that. My father won't touch you, my lord."

"Do what you must, Prince Rhaegar." said Jon Arryn with a voice as cold as the Lands Beyond the Wall. Rhaegar nodded and left Arryn's tent, leaving the Lord of the Vale to his sad Braavosi poetry book.

The next tent he intended to visit was that of Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun. Hoster didn't read but instead, he lied on the bed, face up, lost in thought. Rhaegar Targaryen could notice that his right foot was no more and instead of it, bloody bandages covered the stump. "Lord Hoster…"

Hoster Tully turned his head towards the prince. "My prince. I'd get up from the bed and I'd bow but…"

"No need for sarcasm, my lord. I understand and I feel sorry for your pain but wounds like this are the price we pay for war."

"Don't give me lessons in philosophy, boy!"

Rhaegar was aghast. "You forget yourself, my lord."

"You forget yourself, you mad fool! You took the Stark girl from her lawful betrothed! The realm bled while you enjoyed her Gods know where. Tell me, did you enjoy fucking her while men died because of…"

Lord Hoster didn't even have the opportunity to finish his sentence before Rhaegar grabbed him by his doublet. "What is the meaning of this? Unhand me, ser!"

"Tell me, my lord of Tully, did you enjoy burning the villages of your bannermen who, unlike you, refused to turn their backs against the crown? Against their lawful king? Did your men enjoy putting to the sword men, women and children whose only sins were to be ruled by lords who didn't want the stain of treason to cover them? If we are to talk about mad fools, you, my lord, are among the maddest. Did you forget who made your House what it is today? Who liberated you from Harren the Black? Who stopped the other kingdoms from invading your precious Riverlands? And yet, you were so quick to turn your back against us. After we return to King's Landing, many things will change. You can either be a part of the change or be a part of the Night's Watch, though I'm not sure the black brothers need a one-legged traitor among their ranks."

Without saying another word, Rhaegar left Hoster Tully's tent, leaving the Lord of Riverrun cursing and shouting. Out of the four leaders of the rebellion, Rhaegar only truly hated Hoster Tully. Jon Arryn rebelled because of a parent's love, Lord Eddard because of a sibling's love and Robert Baratheon because of passion. Hoster Tully rebelled because of ambition. To see his daughters married to high lords, to increase his House. Many Houses thought about this. They saw the Targaryens as weak with no dragons and a mad king on the Iron Throne. Rhaegar still remembered the promise he made to the young Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard that everything will change with his return to the capital. In his tent, Ser Barristan awaited him.

"Ser, we move tomorrow at first light towards the capital."

"As you wish, my prince. Tell me, how did your talks with Lords Arryn and Tully went?"

"Arryn is wise and knows it is over for the rebels. Tully is defiant but loves power too much to throw it away for pride. He needs to learn a bit of humility. Just a bit, though. I'm not my father."

"I know you are not, my prince."

"Order the maester to send a raven to Ser Arthur. I would have Lady Lyanna by my side in the capital."

Barristan Selmy frowned. "My prince, wouldn't that be an insult to your lady wife? And to the Starks. If you are to change things and bring peace, wouldn't it be wise to return Lady Lyanna to her family and end this once and for all?"

"I can't do that, Barristan."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand. You don't know the things I know. And I shall explain them to you but not… not now. Now it's the time for father."

The next day, the remaining loyalist host left the Trident and made its way onto the Kingsroad towards the capital. Many of those who left King's Landing with Rhaegar came back to him but many died in the waters of the Trident. The prince rode at the forefront, accompanied by Ser Barristan Selmy and a group of riverlords loyal to the crown, chief among them being Lord Denys Darry. Though he lost three of his sons in the battle, his face was implacable, never showing the pain behind it. "Only my youngest son, Raymun, remains, and my girls, but I would rather lose them all than see an usurper on the Iron Throne." he told Rhaegar when he first saw him after the battle. A rider approached the prince, bearing on his chestplate the green apple of House Fossoway of New Barrel. It was Phineas Fossoway, Lord of New Barrel and the commander of the Reach forces.

"My prince," said Lord Phineas, "With your permission, I shall take half of the reachmen and go reinforce Lord Mace at Storm's End."

"Would that be necessary? We dispatched ravens to Lord Mace. When Stannis Baratheon finds out his brother is dead, he shall surrender the castle. If he doesn't believe the letters, Robert's bones would be proof enough."

"You sent Robert's corpse to Storm's End?"

"Yes. A lord must rest at his castle, among his ancestors. Let's hope the new lord of Storm's End will be wiser than the former."

Lord Phineas, a man of thirty with a pale face and long black hair, had a reputation as a great warrior and a wise battlefield commander. His son and heir, the nine-years old Ryam, was Lord Caron's ward. Thus, Phineas knew much about the stormlords. "I wish I could share your optimism, my prince, but these Baratheons are belligerent and arrogant and from what I've heard from my friends in the Stormlands, this Stannis is unbendable. Give me leave to go to Storm's End and bring Stannis and his men back to the king's peace."

"As you wish, but don't appear before the walls of Storm's End before Robert's bones arrive. If Stannis yields, return. Otherwise, reinforce Mace Tyrell."

"As you command."

A fortnight later, as the host approached the crownlands, a rider in the night appeared before the prince. The man bore a letter from Lord Phineas announcing that Stannis Baratheon has surrendered Storm's End seeing his brother's bones and that the Reachmen will bring him to King's Landing. His men, as well as his younger brother, Renly, were held captive in the castle which was now occupied by Mace Tyrell. Fossoway assured Prince Rhaegar that both Stannis and those who were besieged with him were well fed and treated with honour. Rhaegar was content but inside him, fear clawed at his heart. He heard no news from Arthur Dayne nor from King's Landing. Just a few more days, he thought, and I will be home.

The days came and went and Rhaegar Targaryen, alongside his army, were now in front of the Gate of the Gods. Ser Jaime Lannister, a youth of only seventeen, garbed in Kingsguard white, awaited them. Seeing him, Rhaegar descended from his palfrey and hugged the young knight.

"I am happy to see you, Prince Rhaegar."

"And I you, Ser Jaime. How is the city?"

"His Grace ordered all the gates closed the moment you left. Only ships from the Free Cities were allowed to dock. I have to say, I am tired of Lyseni lobster."

Both Jaime and Rhaegar smiled. "I wish to see my family, ser."

Jaime Lannister nodded and led Rhaegar and the Targaryen army into the city. The streets were eerily silent but the prince expected that. He didn't expect people to cheer and throw flowers at him for defeating a rebellion he helped starting. "How is father, Ser Jaime?"

Jaime Lannister sighed. "The first days after you left the capital were difficult. Very difficult. He… burned men alive. He stopped only after news of your victory against Baratheon reached us. Now he is calm, relatively speaking."

"Mother?"

"Her Grace was sent to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys."

"Thank the gods. It saddens me I can't see her right now, but at the same time, I don't want her to witness… the aftermath."

"The aftermath?"

"Yes… of this horror."

Reaching the Red Keep, the high lords that came with Rhaegar were given rooms in Maegor's Holdfast and the Maidenvault while the soldiers camped in the courtyard. Rhaegar Targaryen wanted to see his wife and children before being stopped by Ser Jaime.

"Prince Rhaegar, we need to talk. Privately."

"We shall, ser. After I see my children and my lady wife."

"You don't understand. We need to talk now."

Rhaegar was concerned and followed Ser Jaime to one of the black cells of the Red Keep. Inside one of the cells, a bald man with a white beard was chained to a wall. In the darkness of the dungeon, Rhaegar could only notice the man's robe as being one worn by the alchemists of the Guild.

"What is the meaning of this, Jaime?"

"This man is Wisdom Garigus, of the Alchemist Guild."

"Why is he your prisoner?"

"His Grace planned to destroy the city with wildfire produced by the Guild… in case you didn't return from the Trident."

Rhaegar's heart sank. Could father be so mad?

Jaime continued. "I slit another pyromancer's throat and threw him into the sea but I captured this one. He will confirm what I said."

Rhaegar approached the prisoner and grabbed him by the throat. "Is it true?"

"Y…yes…" The man was too weak to say more but yes was the only word Rhaegar needed to hear. Jaime then opened Garigus' throat, leaving him to bleed to death.

"The only pyromancer aware of the king's plot remaining in the city is his new Hand, the Wisdom Rossart. Unfortunately, he never leaves the king's side."

As the two ascended the stairs, a young page approached them. "Prince Rhaegar, His Grace requests you and Ser Jaime's presence in the throne room."

"Of course."

In the throne room, Aerys II Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, looking worse than Rhaegar's worse fears. His face was gaunt and his eyes were red from the lack of sleep. His nails were long and disgusting and his beard was long and unkempt.

"My son," said Aerys II in a mocking voice. "Is this how much you love your father? You arrive to the Red Keep in the morning and only now you deign to meet me?"

"Father," Rhaegar knelt. "I have destroyed the rebel Robert Baratheon. The traitor forces are in shambles and I captured some of his most important generals. You can rest easy knowing…"

"REST EASY?" His voice thundered across the great throne chamber. "ENEMIES! Enemies that only want to take my throne! They're everywhere! And you want me to rest easy? Are you with them? Tell me!"

"How can I be with them, father? I fought them."

"You brought them to my doorstep! When you took that whore from the north and her wolf brother came to me sword in hand, did you fight them? No! I had to do it for you! He came at me screaming for your blood! I fought them, not you!"

"I took his sister, true. He wanted revenge, but you shouldn't have done what you did. Good men died because of you killing Rickard and Brandon Stark."

"Tell me, Wisdom, does a traitor have the right to life?"

The Hand of the King, Wisdom Rossart, sat on a chair at the foot of the Iron Throne. "No, Your Grace," he answered in a mocking tone. "Of course not."

"There are still enemies in the realm, oh yeah, they are. The ironborn, the Dornish… Lannister! Lannister will destroy us but I won't let him, no no!"

Rhaegar looked at Jaime who returned the concerned look. Now, Rhaegar realized how far his father was gone. Aerys then started to laugh. "But… but my son is back! Tonight, we shall feast! Lannister! Summon all the lords of the realm! Tonight, we shall eat, drink and make merry!"

Jaime nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. Tonight, we shall feast." He approached the place where the Wisdom stood and shoved his sword in the man's chest, killing him immediately. Aerys's eyes grew so big that they almost popped out of his head. "TRAITOR! BURN THEM ALL! LANNISTER TRAITOR!"

Jaime ascended the steps of the Iron Throne and grabbed Aerys II. The king then scratched Jaime's face with his nails that resembled claws, prompting Jaime to struck him with his mailed fist. The king then fell throat first into one of the throne's blades."

"No!" shouted Rhaegar. "Father!"

Jaime Lannister turned his bloodied face towards the prince. "Better him than us… Your Grace."