Beron II
King's Landing, 297 AC
The Red Keep
"...so, what do you think of my new dress, Ser Beron?"
He didn't know what to say at first. Then, a few seconds later, he answered. "Well, it's...lovely, Your Grace." He wasn't an expert on clothes and the like, but that dress was truly good looking, and it fit her body quite nicely.
Princess Visenya seemed to beam with joy at his words. She smiled and twirled a lock of her long silver-gold hair with a finger. Out of the three royal siblings, she was the one that had taken the most after their father. Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys, on the other hand, mostly resembled their mother, both in features and personality.
"Thank you, ser. I knew you would like it." she giggled. The princess was a cheerful and intelligent young maid, who got along with basically anyone. It was rumored that she had even managed to make her grim grandfather smile. Overall, she was a pleasant person to have around, beautiful to look at, and a good conversationalist.
There was just one little problem...
"Princess...did you wear this dress just to impress me?"
She looked at him indignantly. "Of course not, Ser Beron. Why would I do that?" Beron noticed her cheeks slightly reddening. The princess may have many qualities, but she was a terrible liar. He had long since noticed her clumsy attempts to seduce him. A smile here, a few words there...she clearly didn't know what to do. Not that Beron would reciprocate her attentions, if she did. A kingsguard's duty was to protect the royal family, not to fuck them.
Besides, at four and ten she was almost half his age, and Beron liked his women a little older than that.
Beron pretended to believe her. "Forgive me for asking, then."
She shrugged. "It's fine." The princess resumed her silent walking. "Ser Beron..." she said after a while. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Your Grace."
"Do you..." She seemed to hesitate. "Do you like girls?"
Beron stopped in his tracks. "What?"
"I asked if you like girls."
He looked at the princess and noticed a hint of worry in her deep purple eyes. She must be wondering whether I'm a sword swallower.
"I...yes, Your Grace. I do like girls." He knew that if he lied, her attempts would stop. However, his pride wouldn't allow him.
The princess looked relieved. "And, if you don't mind me asking..."
Gods, what else now?
"...how do you deal with...well, with your needs?"
Beron's eyes widened. "Princess, I don't think it's something for your ears. And anyway, we should stop wasting time with idle chatters. You know the Septa doesn't like it when you are late for your lessons." He hoped that would be enough to deter the princess from further embarrassing topics.
"A minute or two late won't be a problem." she said, and Beron sighed. "And I hope my questions aren't annoying you, Ser Beron. It's just that I've always been curious about the world around me, and I would be very grateful if you answered truthfully. I hate it when people lie because they think they have to protect me from reality." Then, she added: "Of course, I won't tell anyone about it."
He took a moment to ponder on what to do. In the end, he choose to give her a not too detailed answer, hoping it would finally satisfy her.
"Most times I...I just do it by myself. And when the urge gets too strong...there are women willing to help, in exchange for coins." he said. "Our oath forbids us to marry and have children, not to f...to sleep with women." It was an open secret among the white swords that some of them were loyal patrons of the establishments that could be found along the Street of Silk. It wasn't exactly frowned upon, but neither it was openly allowed. His friend Daven Lannister called it a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
The princess nodded at his words. "Thank you for answering, Ser Beron."
Beron breathed a silent sigh of relief. "We would better get going, now."
He escorted Princess Visenya to the Septa's room and stood guard outside of it. The next few hours went on uneventfully.
That is, until Ser Oswell arrived with news that shocked everybody's world...
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Taken from "Fire and Blood: A comprehensive history of House Targaryen", by Archmaester Yandel of the Citadel
Chapter 18: The Bard King
...Lord Connington died right after his return at the Red Keep. Despite Grandmaester Pycelle's best efforts, his burns were too severe, and the voyage back had taken a heavy toll on him. However, before leaving to join his ancestors in the seven heavens, he managed to recount the events that had led to his hurried escape from a once again burning Summerhall...
...The three fossilized dragon eggs had been sent to King Rhaegar as a gift for the twentieth anniversary of his crowning, by an unknown source. Upon receiving them, the king closed himself in his chambers for an entire day, forbidding anyone from entering. When he came out, he seemed to be his normal self, but according to some rumors there was a strange light in his eyes...
...Aegon the Unlikely's death should have set a warning for his descendants. Unfortunately, King Rhaegar only partially heeded it. No other members of House Targaryen were at the castle that day. However, there were still a handful of workers taking care of the last stages of the reconstruction, a few servants and guards, Lord Commander Dayne, Lord Connington, and of course the king himself. In total, almost a hundred people. And all but one would die in the fire that destroyed Summerhall for the second time...
...There were no further attempts to rebuild Summerhall, and to this day it still stands as a blackened and empty shell of its former self. However, according to some whispers, the ghost of Ser Arthur still haunts the ruins of the castle, crying in silent shame for allowing the death of his king and best friend...
...King Rhaegar's actions are the only mistake of an otherwise flawless reign. A failed attempt to restore House Targaryen to its full might and glory by bringing dragons back into this world, they can easily be forgiven in light of the Bard King's many accomplishments; like the improved relationships with the ironborn, and the much celebrated canal linking the Mander river to the Blackwater, to name just a few.
With the death of King Rhaegar, decades of peace and prosperity the likes of which hadn't been seen in Westeros since the time of Jaehaerys I came to an abrupt end, to be followed soon after by two short but bloody wars...
AN: The king is dead, long live the king!